#i think bringing up source at all will fucking explode me mentally so lets just not test that

[egoistars]

TALKING TO MY GHOST AT NIGHT reo

theres a ghost in the blue lock facility, reo and bachira are sure of it. they also aren't the most reliable sources out there but it was funny, nagi can humor them for a little longer if it means reo will finally get a partner and set him free ( wc : 2.1k+ )

warnings : crack, angst if u blink slowly, reader is a slut for money and so am i, reo is into some weird shit but it's ok they're into each other i promise

“Yo! Yo! Sei-shi-ro!” Bachira called out, once again with glittering stars in his eyes as Reo’s face pales every passing second. “You will never guess what Reo and I found!”

“Nagi, there’s a ghost,” Bachira’s accomplice muttered. “We saw them when we went to eat dinner.”

“You guys are delusional,” the white-haired boy sweatdropped, were they getting enough sleep? Probably not. Ego was absolutely insane and for the first few days Nagi was in the Blue Lock facility, he swore he was losing his five senses ( he was better when he got his phone back but that’s not important ^ _ – ). “Are you guys sure it wasn’t a janitor or cook?”

“We swear!” The dumbass duo retaliated, each one taking hold of one of Nagi’s arms. “They looked like they were our age and they even had the same really ugly dark circles and eyebags as you! There’s no other explanation.”

Nagi was too tired for this shit he just wanted to lie in bed and play mobile games like an elementary school kid. “Well, leave me out of this you guys can get haunted for all I care.”

“What the fuck, Nagi?! Even after all we’ve been through? I’m like the second coming of Jesus to you! I introduced you to the art of playing with balls!” Maybe he could have worded that better but Reo was too deep in the blistering sorrow of betrayal to care about his relationship with the Japanese language.

“Yeah! Listen to Reo! You’re one of us and plus, you and the ghost look equally exhausted so that means you should be the one to talk to them!” Bachira innocently giggled as if he didn’t just set Nagi up for a demonic ritual or whatever the fuck they were planning.

“Can we at least wait until tomorrow?” Nagi whined, his eyelids felt heavy and there was too much stupidity in the room for his brain to handle in a day. His brain was swelling and any more that came out of Bachira or Reo’s mouth would cause it to explode and somehow, his batshit insane rivals teammates will find a way to bring him back to life ( maybe even with the ghost ) and beat the shit out of him for abandoning them ( Reo ).

—

It was getting late and most of the Egoists had gone to their rooms to do whatever was on their schedule next. The reasonable ones went to rest, the weird ones went to train, and then there was the demon named Rin Itoshi who went to follow his yoga routine. Ew, that name sent shivers down Nagi’s spine. He wants to see that guy trip and fall on his ass sometime, that’d be pretty funny, he thinks. It would be even better if his brother did the same. But for Nagi, instead of playing his first-person shooters like how he would like to, the boy was being shushed by Meguru Bachira who was accompanied by an oddly serious looking Reo Mikage.

“Ghost… ghost…” Reo began making different “oOOOoO” noises to mimic ghost sounds from a badly produced Halloween movie. “We come in peace. We don’t plan to hurt you.”

“Yeah! We’re totally cool, you should hang out with us! Look! We even have some random dude who’s like the same breed of human as you! Er… as you were.”

“Bachira I didn’t agree on being a human sacrifice,” Nagi tried saying, but was quickly cut off.

“Shhh! You’re gonna scare it away! No one cares~!”

“Are you mentally well?”

Bachira and Reo let out loud ear-shattering screams, each going straight into Nagi’s head and giving him the most painful migraine he’s ever experienced, so painful that he almost did not realize it was an unfamiliar voice talking to Bachira instead of one of their own. Looking up at whoever it was, it happened to be another teenager who looked relatively normal with no seemingly ghostly features at all.

“Aren’t you guys soccer players? What the fuck are you doing out here ghost hunting?”

“Wait so you aren’t a ghost?” Bachira tilted his head and asked, his eyes blank in confusion while Reo looked like he was short-circuiting.

“No…?” You replied, pinching your skin. “I’m like ninety-nine percent sure I’m alive and well. You guys are hallucinating or something if you think I’m a ghost.”

“T-then why are you here?!” Reo pointed at you and demanded, suddenly thinking you were some intruder or hitman that was hired by one of his family’s rival companies, out to kill him while he happens to be away from home.

“‘Cause I’m that freak Jinpachi’s cousin. I need volunteer hours to graduate so I came here and honestly, I regret it. Nepotism sucks—well, at least this kind. I should’ve been born as some major actor’s kid.”

“Woah! So you aren’t here to kill me, that’s great!” Reo beamed, suddenly very giddy that a cute intern the same age as him would not be an absolute danger to his well-being. It had been years since he felt this electricity in his chest, the last time being when he met Nagi, who had been stuck with him ever since that day on. The purple-haired boy was unsure of whether the pleasure he felt from meeting you was due to a new challenge, or the fact he was genuinely interested in you. After all, he thought you were a ghost the first time he saw you.

“What—huh?! Why would I kill you? What kind of unresolved trauma do you have? Was this Jinpachi’s fault? That man is fucked in the head but he has money so don’t tell anyone about it until he dies and I get all his inheritance, ‘kay?”

Nagi did not know if you morbid words went one of Reo’s ears and out the other or if Reo was weirdly into whatever fantasies you had. Rich people. Bachira, though, was giggling like a devious troll, making squelching kissy noises in Reo’s ear as you went on and on about your plan to save yourself from the world of middle-class living and kick your cousin out of the economic elites so that you could replace him, knowing damn well that Ego could hear you.

And, he did.

A large television screen mounted to the front wall of the Blue Lock Facility cafeteria turned on almost immediately after you stopped talking, displaying a far from happy Jinpachi Ego in all of his bowl-cut glory. The man’s permanent frown was even more of a frown than what Nagi thought was humanly possible, another ew in his book. Man, his coach was depressingly ugly.

Jinpachi Ego was a tired man whose tiredness plummeted into exhaustion every time he had to interact with his hellspawn of a cousin, you. “[name], cut it out and get to cleaning. You aren’t going to get any credits or paychecks if you continue standing there wasting all our time telling people your empty plans of ‘plotting my downfall’,” Ego spoke with his monotone voice, making faux quotes with his hands.

“Oh, shut up old man. You’re literally decaying compared to me. Get to bed, grandpa,” You restored, visibly pissed off but immediately switching your facial expression to a cheery one like a lightswitch as you bid goodbye to the three teenage boys before you and running off to “beat that bowl-cut’s ass”, as you put it.

“Dude, you look like you just met an angel and fell in love!” Bachira laughed in Reo’s face, doubling over and rolling on the floor.

“I think… that’s because I just did,” Reo mumbled, awe still on his face as he blankly stared at the television screen Ego was just on.

—

Once again, Nagi just wanted to go to bed but had his plans interrupted by a very desperate Reo Mikage.

“Come on! Nagi, you just don’t get it. They’re my soulmate, I’m sure of it!”

“Why can't you go alone? Why do you have to drag me into you trying to ask them out? Aren't I just gonna be in the way?”

“Nagi,” Reo whined, pathetically dragging out his name. “I need you there for moral support. I'll piss myself otherwise, you know that.”

“Yeah, and I’ll be sure to laugh at you too when they reject you.”

“I'm gonna punch you.”

“Whatever, just this once, you hear me?”

“Aye, aye, captain!” Reo saluted his closest friend, skipping to the cafeteria to find you. To be honest, he was unsure of whether or not you’d be there but considering the fact you’ve been cleaning the cafeteria at the same times for two days in a row, Reo thought he had a pretty good chance. But of course, luck wouldn't always be on the side of the rich and famous.

Nagi and Reo walked into the large, open room only to find the lights completely out, without a single sound echoing throughout the cold. An eerie feeling took over the previous excitement that Reo felt that evening, accompanying it with a chill down both of their spines.

“They aren't here, let's go back,” Nagi urged. He would never admit it to anyone's face, but the cafeteria was starting to give him the creeps. “Bring Bachira with you next time, he’d be over the moon to help you.”

“No! Wait! This place is creepy as fuck but we haven't even looked yet! Let me just turn on the lights—”

“See? You should be more like your friend here. Why are you in such a hurry to leave? I don't bite!” A voice popped out from right behind Nagi, causing him to physically jump into the air and trip over and onto his knees before violently whipping around, coming face to face with you manically cackling at his reaction. “Man, you're easy to scare!”

“Hi! You're er— [name], right? That's what Ego called you last night,” Reo greeted, “I'm Reo Mikage.”

“Yeah,” Nagi chimed in from on the floor. “He's Reo Mikage.” Reo really wished he followed through with punching Nagi in the face. “He's the heir of the Mikage Corp.”

“Mikage… Mikage… Mikage…” You muttered, trying to remember why that name sounded so oddly familiar to you. Is it the name of a restaurant you went to? No, he said ‘Corp’, that wouldn't make any sense.

“That means he's super rich by the way,” Nagi added one last time before ditching his awestruck friend in the otherwise empty cafeteria that he doubted anyone would go to anytime soon; it was almost nine in the evening.

“Oh my God, you're rich?” You gushed, suddenly very interested in what Reo had to say for himself—well, even more interested. It was like a dream for you; some really pretty dude coming in looking for you specifically, ignoring the part where he thought you were a ghost, of course. But having this same pretty boy turn out to be a super mega rich heir and also be super mega athletic? Jackpot. You won in life. It's God’s apology for making you be related to that bastard Jinpachi Ego. This is your main character moment and you will make sure that boy will be yours before any other trashy gold digger other than you picks him up and takes him away. “That's like, the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“That's not the only thing you're after, right?” Reo cautiously asked. It slightly hurt knowing that you might not actually be interested in him, but only after his wallet instead. It wouldn't be the first time that's happened, but it would be the first time it's happened with someone he was genuinely interested in.

“No, no! Of course not! You're pretty funny and well uh, really cute so even if you were broke I’d shoot my shot.”

If you spoke any more, Reo thought that his cheeks would fucking burst from how hot they felt and he was more than sure his face was a burning crimson red. It was suddenly as hot as a midsummer's day with the sun shining right above his brushed, violet hair, causing his entire body to sweat. “Holy shit I could marry you right now.”

“Hell yeah, let's get married, Reo!” You exclaimed with the same ecstatic eagerness as the boy whose hands you were grabbing onto while jumping up and down.

“[name], get to cleaning. You are not getting married anytime soon.” Before you could start making up your vows on the spot, a shart voice cut through the moment with the click of a button as the television in the cafeteria turned on once again, displaying a displeased, disturbed, and beyond annoyed Jinpachi Ego who was most definitely not pissed off because he can't get himself a partner like how his cousin can.

[snifferz]

get real (rant from stupid idiot host #1)

[semischarmed]

Detour, Part 3

For a few still moments, Scott isn’t really sure what he is looking at. His unconscious friend Alex stands frozen in his previous position, head still pointing upwards, mouth agape. Aside from some light breathing, the only movement of yours that Scott can make out is Alex’s tongue-your first acquisition-twitching slightly. Your tongue then slowly dances around Alex’s lips, greedily tasting the new vessel. Delicious. Your new eyes shoot open, a little bloodshot from Alex’s last performance, and focus on Scott. They narrow, and you make your new, plump lips follow, closing slowly into a smile. “Mmmmm .... Scott, you sick fuck” Alex’s body speaks in half delirium with the vocal cords you borrow from him. You pull a little more of his strings, and his arms stir. In one unnatural motion, like someone moving their arms for the first time in their life- which, granted, this really is your first time- you clumsily run shaking fingers through your new body’s hair. Dread paints Scott’s face.

In his brain, you feel Alex together with you. You push his essence aside to assert dominance over your new bod. Surprisingly, he puts up less of a fight than you expect- no fight at all, actually. You just let a little of Alex leak out of you, which culminates in the radiant smile your body greets Scott with.

“You’re really fucking sick, Scott.” You say with your Alex vocal cords, completely shifting the mood. You start feeling around your new face before you look back at him. “What kind of friend does this?” You lace that word with a poison that Scott has never heard from his friend’s mouth and you can tell it stings him a little.

“You-you’re not fucking Alex, faggot!” he shouts angrily.

Unfazed, you continue. “Now, that’s just plain wrong. I’m fucking Alex right fucking now, with his own body from his insides” you sadistically laugh with your old voice. It’s a little out of place coming out of Alex. “Here, come take a look.” You decide also take a little recording for yourself.

God he looks so good. You can’t believe you’re in control of this little slice of heaven. Or hell. This tight bod runs hot. And you can’t tell if that’s just how he is or if it’s the persistent ecstasy you feel being in the driver’s seat of the human sports-car.

“Look... look what you did to me!” You moan, this time with Alex’s voice. You’re now settling inside of him. “You’re an asshole, Scott, I barely met the guy and the first thing you do is stuff me full of him” you start gyrating his body slowly “well, now we do know each other. Intimately. No one is ever going to know this body, this mind, this soul like he does... like I do” you make Alex state. “I feel like I’m gonna explode, Scott. There’s so much of him you put inside me,” you dig around a little in your new chest until you find the outline of the medallion deep inside Alex’s body and give it a slow rub. “Oh god, Scott, what did you do!” You say, in fake distress. 

“Oh god Scott! [moan] Help! He’s, he’s...[moan] inside meee.” You invoke the medallion’s powers to force Scott to watch you and prevent him from leaving the apartment. 

“[moan] Defiling me”. With your new tone arms, you find the only piece of you not yet integrated into Alex- the outline of your old dick, embedded in Alex’s groin. With his fingers, you dig and grab it and start pumping through your meatsuit’s skin -god that feels good- like an Alex fleshlight. As you grow, it starts to fill into Alex’s limp dick like a glove. 

“[whine] Empowering me”. In the throes of passion, you still don’t have perfect control of this new body. Your new face goes emotionless as you continue pumping your cocks. From Scott’s perspective, it’s unsettling enough seeing his best friend jack off in front of him. It’s even more unsettling seeing him do it with no emotion in his face. 

“[stare] Corrupting me”. As you can feel Alex’s body as well, you are hit with a wave of unimaginable bliss- your old body’s dick is not fully connected to his, so with each pump you give your Alex cock both an internal and external stimulation. In one fell swoop, face still impassive, you climax inside Alex- through Alex- as Alex, and complete the merge. You greedily suck the amalgamated cum off your fingers and gently moan “thank you housewarming present”. You put a deranged, dark smile on this meatsuit’s face and then heartily laugh. 

“And thank you, Scott, for lodging him inside me! [Pant] We can’t wait to repay the favor!”

For a few moments, your new body sits in tranquility. Scott’s does too, though not of his own will. 

From the backseat of your mind, you feel a stirring from your other resident. Your body pants a little, “I think... I think he wants to talk to you. What do you think, Scott? Let’s go see what he’s up to..” your eyes roll to the back of your head and your new body convulses as you slowly let his best friend come out. “Scott! I, I’m... w-what happened?”

A moment of relief briefly flashes on Scott’s face as he sees his friend return and more tears well in his eyes. He’s lived with him for years so he can tell when his friend is being genuine. This was Alex. The real Alex. Relief turns to disheartenment when this Alex runs his new hands across his new face with a sly grin. 

You decide to keep the ‘real’ Alex in the driver’s seat. With Alex in control, your movements are much more natural. You stretch your arms casually and your sweat-drenched shirt lifts ever so slightly to reveal your glistening abs. With Alex behind the wheel, you give a commanding yawn as you gently scratch your balls through your now damp boxers. Your new face shifts into a sleazy sneer. “I think this is gonna work out juuuuust fine” Alex says, licking his lips.

“Alex, buddy, are you ok?” Scott expresses with concern. Alex ignores him and continues his exploration. 

He lifts your right arm, peeling back the shirt sleeve to see his-your hairy pits. It’s wet and it’s rank. “Goddamn we smell, don’t we baby” oddly, perhaps due to your presence in him, he seems to find his own scent alluring. He brings your new face in for a little taste and, involuntarily, winces. It is tart, musky, noxious. It’s good.

Alex then raises his hands, studying them, before reaching mentally instead to the medallion locked inside your combined mass. He effortlessly makes the nervous Scott give you both a little show. “Hey Scott, call me-call us master”. “M-Master!”. Alex gives you a mental wink before freezing Scott back into place.

Alex continues to test your new powers, and their new potency. With the both of you here, you quickly notice how much more of a refined control you have over the medallion. You feel Alex come to the same conclusion.

“I’m already filled to the brim with you swimming inside me,” he chuckled, “it tickles. You’re already using me like a glove. Just finish it, I’m already yours” -he moans that last word, “Fuck Sophie. Since you’re in me, since you are me, I’m a faggot now.”

“And this new faggot wants a piece of that hot, hot roommate-best-friend ass in front of us,” he adds, before giving the still Scott a small wink. Inside Alex, strange shock runs through your core. The medallion no longer surges power through this fleshy conduit, you feel intimately connected to its source. You yourself surge with power. Both bound and freed. Empowered. Invigorated. You are the medallion. You are Alex. This Alex body is wholly yours.

“We feel- no, we ARE a fucking god, Alex aren’t we?!” The Alex piece of you roars. 

He said most of that completely on his own. Intoxicated by the power his body now has as your puppet, he’s corrupted his own self, binding pieces of him to parts of the medallion- to parts of you. Permanently. Alex-the old Alex- body, mind, soul. He’s fully yours. Forever and ever. Evidently, the reason his body runs so hot and steamy is having you inside pulling his strings is turning him on. Evidently, the old Alex had a thing for being bound and controlled. Kinky. 

The medallion, previously wedged between your skin and Alex’s has long since dissolved into your new body, just as you have long since dissolved into Alex’s. You try to liquify a piece of your old self to pull it out of the hand it now occupies to no avail. Instead, your whole arm liquefies into a writhing mass, before recombining. You don’t even think you can even leave this cute little meatsuit now if you tried. There truly was no going back. He is now an extension of your soul- an extension of you. You let Alex take the wheel again, as your body moans and slowly removes your drenched shirt. You start to think, to reminisce back to your old body, your old life that you had unintentionally left behind. Your Alex-self gently places his fingers on his nipples and gives them a small twist, apparently something he did often. Fuck that felt good. Being permanently Alex feels good. Your fingers dance across this body as you feel your self up. Again, your past life flashes before your eyes before you focus on your new skin. Not giving this up. ‘Anyway, who would ever want to leave this tight piece of ass’.

Another moan escapes you as you continue to pleasure your new body. Your eyes slowly fall on this still terrified, still frozen Scott, who’s face you command into one of longing, piercing blue eyes brimming with a hidden hatred. You take your new hands and gently stroke his cheek. “Don’t worry baby, We didn’t forget about you. After all, you're our. best. friend”. 

-End Part 3-

[got-any-references]

What are your fav beetlebabes headcanons? Also, love your stuff <3

Thank you <3. And thank you for the wait cause oh boy if I don’t answer this ask with a ridiculous amount of art how will I live?

*Digging out the dust covered manuscript that is my nonexistent Beetlebabes fic from under the floorboards* It’s showtime.

So...Lydia is the one who falls first. She is about 17 or 18 at the time, so this is very much an “I have a teen crush on someone I am not supposed to” type of deal. Honestly they fell in love with each other way before that but like, platonically 

Beej is...horribly oblivious XD. Honestly its for the best because Lydia spends the better part of her pre-college summer freaking about because any time her best friend walks in the door her heart wants to go bull-riding in her chest and if she actually has to confront her feelings she might just explode.

Then, just before Lydia was supposed to go away to college, Beetlejuice...disappears. He leaves a note, saying he’ll be back, but weeks turn into months, months turn into a year, and no one either in the living world or the netherworld has seen a hair of him. Lydia goes through college without really knowing what to do with herself, missing what was probably the closest person in her life. She graduates with a journalism degree and a minor in photography. She works for a newspaper as an investigative journalist before breaking off over less than great circumstances and going off on her own.

She’s 25 when she establishes herself as a pivate eye, with an enormous amount of anonymous sources being dead people. Also, this takes place in New York City.

(Yes she absolutely does exorcisms on the side).

She’s following a rather stange missing persons case when one of her sources points to a run down establishment that is 100% totally haunted. Except when she goes there she doesn’t find any ghosts, but rather

Beetlejuice. And he looks awful. And very much human.

Lydia: You look like hell.

Beej: Yeah, I just got back.

...

Beej: Also I’ma pass out now so you better catch me.

So he crashes at Lydia’s place, and the whole thing turns into solving the crime as well as Beej’s  mysterious aquirement of a beating heart and working lungs. He doesn’t remember how that’s happened, only now everything is Too Much with Too Many Feelings. Speaking of feelings, you bet your ass there is PINING. SO much pining. Lydia’s best friend comes back and suddenly those feelings she’d dismissed as a stupid teenage crush come FLOODING BACK. 

While Lydia’s internally feaking out over her feelings (it's totally normal and platonic to wanna kiss your best friend while he sleeps, right??), Beetlejuice is, you guessed it, totally oblivious! To his own feelings especially! All he knows is that it's his best friend only now she seems like a completely different person, and hot. She is now hot. His mad respect for Lydia makes him bury that thought deep, deep down. Also the whole marriage deal is a source on bad memories for both of them and he doesn’t wanna ruin the only good thing he’s ever had and-

Anyway, more pining:

Lydia’s feelings bring out resentment, too. She hates that Beej calls her kid, because that means he still sees her as one, and her ego and her desire for him make her want him to see her, the woman who's seen some real shit in the name of finding the truth, who can take care of herself, and who is very different from that angsty 15 year old girl on the roof. 

It all comes ahead to a big confrontation where Lydia is shot, and Beetlejuice has to drag her to the hospital without any knowledge of how human bodies work and he has no magic so he can’t help her-

The hospital needs to know his relationship to her when they take her away, and Beetlejuice knows they wont let him in unless he’s close family so he is blurts out: “Husband. Yeah, I’m her...husband.”

Lydia wakes up with a patched up hole in her side and Beetlejuice clinging to her hand. She’s happy she’s alive, but also angry, because she could have avoided all of this. She was competent enough to not need anyone to rescue her. 

She wants to get back on the case as soon as possible, she found the key lead, but Beej doesn’t wanna hear it, cause he saw way too much of her blood and he’s not big on how human bodies work, but he's pretty sure that shit’s supposed to stay inside. They’re arguing when the nurse comes in and adresses him as “Mr. Deetz.”

Lydia snatches the clipboard away, sees that he’s told them she’s his wife, and is livid. Because crush or not the wedding thing had a whole lot of baggage she does not want to unpack. She has to confront the fact that her feelings are for someone who manipulated her into marriage at 15 and who she’s not supposed to see in that way but she does anyway.

And Beej, a dumbass but also angry cause she almost died out of a stupid reckless mistake is like: "Why are you all mad? It was a green card thing. It's not like it means anything." And that gets Lyds even more upset, with him cause he's an idiot, and with herself because she's still pining for someone who, she thinks, still sees her as a child. 

Lyds, getting her coat: "Fuck off." 

BJ: "Kid-"

 Lydia: "Stop calling me that! I haven't been a child since my mother died. I haven't been a child since you showed up! I haven't been a child since I've started this, since I moved here, since the first asshole tried to kill me. I've been through literal hell and I've had to pull myself out of it all on my own because I was still here and you left."

There's a beat of silence as Lydia realizes what she just said. 

Lydia: "And that's fine. Because I don't need you. I don't need anyone. You taught me that, at least." She yanks her coat onto her shoulders and turns to go.

 BJ, quietly, but its clear he's angry: "Do you think I wanted to leave?" 

Lydia: "I don't know what you wanted. Do you even know what you wanted?" She pauses at the door, turns to him. "Do you know what you want, Betelgeuse?" 

BJ: "I-" 

He stops. He can't look her in the eye anymore. You. I want you. Lydia scoffs, turns to go. 

BJ: "Lydia, wait-" 

Lydia: "Fuck. Off."

She leaves, and he just stands there, floored by his too little too late realization. Lydia thinks the best thing to do after leaving the hospital with a bullet hole in her side and hopped up on painkillers is to go get drunk! Self-preservation? None

Beetlejuice finally finds her drunk off her ass and suddenly in a great mood. He grabs her under the arms like "Whelp. Time to go." 

Lydia: "Nooo come on-" 

BJ: "Aren't you on hospital drugs? Doesn't that shit kill you breathers if you mix it all up?" 

Lydia: ":D I stopped taking them :'D it hurts like a bitch." 

BJ: "I guess I have the shared braincell now. Okay, time to go."

He manages to get her in the car without incident, but when he gets in the driver's seat suddenly Lydia's all over him.

BJ, with a lap full of drunk Lydia: "What. What are you doing." 

Lydia: "Beeetlejuice." 

BJ: "Yeees?" 

Lydia, smiling all dopey as she cups his cheeks: "Beeetlejuuuice."

BJ: "What" 

Lydia's finger hovers over his nose, as if to boop him. He closes his eyes. And suddenly her lips are on his. She tastes like alcohol and hospital food and as she pulls away he can't think. Then she starts laughing. "Ha! Gotchaaa! Classic Bait and Switch!"

And he’s pissed.

BJ: "Ha. Ha. Good one, Lyds." 

He dumps her out of his lap and into the passenger seat. Lydia blinks in confusion. Now she's cold. She wants to ask, but her mental faculties aren't all with her at the moment. He drives them home and helps her up the stairs before dumping her onto her bed. "Well. Bye." Lydia scrambles up the bed. The car ride gave her enough time to be at least a bit sober, and everything before getting here is blurry. "Where are you going?" Beetlejuice turns around, the widest smile on his face. She's confused for a moment before she realizes he's vibrating with rage. "Ya said you want me gone? Great! You don't need me, you can do your weird little suicidal quest thing yourself!" Lydia looks lost. They had a fight but she'd rarely seen him this angry. "If its about the thing at the hospital, I didn't- I didn't mean it-"

Beetlejuice: "Really? You'd think you'd be glad to have me gone. Why would you want a creep like me around? The whole marriage thing didn't just disappear, after all! Great to know you can still pull one on me, huh?"

Lydia: "Pull what, Beetlejuice-"

She remembers, hazily, the car ride.

They stare at each other for a moment Beej is breathing heavily, he's not used to living person emotions, ones you can feel with your whole body instead of just as an abstract thing, but its clear he's holding back

Lydia: "I wasn't-" 

Beej: "You weren't what?"

 Lydia (quietly): "It wasn't a joke."

The angry grin slips off Beej's face. He suddenly looks very, very tired. She might have believed just now that he'd lived for millennia. 

 Beej: “Why are you doin' this, Lyds? Did you know the whole damn time? It's not like I was gonna do anything, I just thought- I just-”

Lydia suddenly realizes that they are having two different conversations. And something else. She looks away, trying to wrap her head around it, and Beetlejuice doesn't read it correctly. He turns to go. 

Lydia: “Wait!”

 She jumps off the bed, feeling the whole world tip over slightly, still drunk, and stumbled over to him. He catches her instinctively as she grips his forearms for support. 

Lydia: “Beej. Beej, look at me.” 

She takes his face in her hands, and turns it toward her. He looks so lost, like one word from her might actually break him. She'd only seen that look on his face once before, and she never wants to again.

Lydia takes a breath. 

Lydia: “Beetlejuice, I-”

Aaand then she throws up all over his shoes.

She doesn't quite remember what happened next, only that she was in the bathroom, leaning against the door, the toilet was flushed, she was sweating, and he wasn't there. 

Lydia: “Beej?” 

Beetlejuice (through the door): “...hi”

Lydia: “What-”

BJ: “-happened? Well, that's a story!” 

His voice sounds cheerful, but it’s shaking slightly 

BJ: “First ya threw up all over us both! then that little experiment of yours with mixing the meds went off, and you started babbling about...rocks? Then we got here, you heaved out the rest of your insides, and then ya kicked me out and said you were gonna shower, and now we're sitting here, so, yeah”

Lydia: “...Are you still covered in puke?” 

BJ:”...yeah”

Lydia: “...sorry?” 

BJ: “Pshh, what's a best friend if ya can't throw up on 'im a couple times.”

They both fall silent

Beetlejuice (quietly): “Lyds, do ya still want me here?”

...

 Lydia takes the time to find the words. Want him here? After everything, he was still asking that question. Did he still think, after all this time, that she'd throw him out at the smallest inconvenience? Would he ever stop thinking that way? Why did he think so now? Was it because he- Because he-

Lydia: “I love you.”

The other side of the door is silent. 

Lydia: “I love your stupid laugh. You sound like a fucking cartoon villain, its so fucking obnoxious. I love your jokes, all of them, even the shitty ones- you always look so god damn proud when you say them.”

Is she crying? She tries to wipe at her face, but the tears keep coming. 

Lydia: “I loved you since that last day on the roof, and when you left-” 

Her throat closes up. She chokes back on her tears, she has to finish it, he has to hear it. 

Lydia: “When you left I thought I might die again.” 

Lydia: “I kept seeing things, dumb branding on cereal boxes, that shitty college play I went to, my first client, and I kept thinking aw, Beej would have a field day with this one. I thought about what you'd say. You were like a voice I couldn't scrape out of my head, I thought I was going crazy, I thought I'd imagined it all, some lonely little girl with no life or friends, needing someone to talk to- But you'd been real, and then you were just gone- “

The words dissolve in her throat as she sobs, pulling her knees up to her chest. She feels like a child now. She feels more childlike than she had at 15. She’s clinging to a scrap of hope she doesn’t have a right to demand from him. And yet he'd said- 

Lydia: “I love you. Please, don't leave.”

They sit is silence for a while. Lydia tries to stop crying. Then, quietly from the other side of the door:

BJ: “You know what I thought when I first saw you?”

Lydia: “Here’s a suicidal teen haha what a riot?”

BJ: “What? No, not then. Like now.”

Lydia: “Oh. What?”

BJ: “I thought wow, who the hell is that and why is she so dang hot?”

Lydia laughs.

BJ: “And then I thought oh God that’s Lydia.”

Something in his voice makes her pause. Maybe it’s the strange fear that she feels coming from him.

BJ: “It’s like, you’re Lydia, and I don’t know shit about you! You’re the same person, but you’re a stranger to me. Lyds, do you know how fucking terrifying that is? You’re someone I never got to know because of a shitty decision I don’t even remember making.”

he falls silent. She can hear the pain in his voice. And something else. Longing. 

Beetlejuice: “I’d like to.”

Lydia opens the door. Beetlejuice scrables up, only for her to throw her arms around him. 

They figure it out. It’s a slowburn 200k fic that I’ll never write so it takes a while for them to actually kiss, or do anything more, but they get there. 

This turned out...ridiculously long XD. I don’t know what you meant by “headcanons”, exactly, but have this instead.

Thanks for the ask! 

[lovelyunholyc]

Sol x (MC) Reader

Smut. 2k words . Light spoiler, takes place on Day (?) of Sol's route.

Sol keeps staring.

His eyes don't move from yours for what feels like eternity.

He's so pretty, you think blearily, the eye contact only making you more dazed. Black hair falling in small tendrils over his forehead, cheeks angular, dusted with roses.Since you walked through those doors and caught his eyes in the reflection of the floor-length mirrors lining a majority of the store, you could hardly think. You could only see, touch, smell the man behind you, so intoxicating, so alluring. Even from behind, he towers over you.

Those icy blue eyes, half-lidded, freezing you in place. Though there is something warm in them, something that stirs your insides and makes your mouth dry.

There is more warmth in his body to match it - so much it radiates off of him in waves, you can feel it, though still he doesn't touch you. The sweet smell of his acme permeates the air around you, between you, pulled tight with tension. It's in every slight huff of his chest as he breathes, caressing the back of your neck with his breath and making you shiver. 

He wasn't doing anything but staring, and yet he was torturing you in every way imaginable.

Did he know that?

He murmurs your name, so softly you have to strain to hear it, even with your heightened senses. "Do you trust me?"

There isn't an ounce of doubt in your answer, though the question catches you off guard. "Sol, of course." When you speak you find yourself matching his volume, your voice only slightly above a whisper, though there was no reason for you to be so quiet. The store was empty except for the two of you - he'd made it so especially for you.

"Lean back." He says it softly but firmly, in the simple, direct way that's purely Sol.

You comply almost immediately, as if his command had power over your body. Your back touches his clothed chest, his arms snaking around your waist, pulling you flush against him. The contact, even through the layers of fabric between you, sends a jolt throughout your body, and you feel too hot to stand still, trying your best not to squirm in his arms because no matter what, you know you don't want him to let go.

"Is this okay?" Sol asks, resting his chin on your shoulder, observing your reactions to his touch closely through the mirrors. His lips are dangerously close to your skin, and at this moment you'd do anything, anything to have them touch you, anywhere, everywhere.

You start to shiver with the need, but bite your lip to try and hold it in. You nod weakly.

"Then why are you shaking?" Sol squeezes your waist, an innocent, comforting gesture in extreme contrast to the other things you wish he would do to you instead.

You struggle to find the words, cheeks flushing further, this time out of embarrassment. "I don't have to say it! It's- it's you!"

You think you see hints of a smile playing at his lips and your face grows hotter still. Serious, thoughtful Sol, teasing you?

"Please just touch me," you breathe in exasperation, and the effect is immediate.

You feel his acme flare, explode into a tsunami of desire within him, and despite his cruel taunting, you pity him. It must be even harder for him to deal with than you.

But then, why was he holding back?

Finally he breaks your gaze, instead following the trails his hands made on your body, sneaking under your clothes and savoring your skin. Sol starts at your waist, going over the smooth bump of your stomach before moving down to your thighs. His hands are smooth and warm, his touch gentle, though it's paltry for your satisfaction and only makes you yearn for more, your own fingers automatically coming up to clutch at his biceps. He gives your bottom a little squeeze, making you giggle despite yourself, before he comes back up to your chest, beneath your sweater, and suddenly nothing in the world is less funny.

"Is this okay too?" This is the first time you've heard Sol sound so hoarse and clearly strained, and it only adds to your desire. He was obviously having a hard time as well. 

At your hummed approval, he cups your breasts firmly, appreciating their weight. He kneads them lightly only for a second before his fingers sneak under your bra to tweak your nipples. 

If you weren't shivering before, now you were positively quaking, thighs rubbing together desperately. "Sol, Sol, please," you whine, barely able to form the words, your mouth suddenly dry.

Sol nods astutely, carrying on as if he's just taking care of business as usual, but his unsteady breathing and slight shivers tell you he's more affected than he lets on. You sigh heavily in contentment when you feel one of his hands move back down to your stomach, somehow unhindered by the material of your skirt. One of his fingers slides beneath your underwear, and you almost fall limp in his arms.

Sol calls you back to him, his knee moving up between your legs to offer extra support. You don't have a moment to thank him, even mentally, before his first touch makes you want to scream.

Sol traces your folds with one finger, then another. His touch is slow, deliberate, savoring the sticky sweetness that coats the pads of his fingers, making for a smooth glide when he makes his way to your entrance; savoring the sweet sounds that come from deep within you, your hips swaying with his movements so nicely, as if you were dancing, just for him. A private performance, in its own way. Every little strum of his fingers had you singing, swaying, unbalanced and weak in his arms.

He was playing you like an instrument. And by God, if he wasn't a master of the art.

All the while, he watches you through the mirror in absolute wonder and admiration. He'd found not too long before that watching your reflection provided a better view of you than looking down, though he did so occasionally for a different angle. This, coupled with the overwhelming feeling of you against him so wholly, writhing, calling his name deep in the throes of pleasure, is enough to drive him insane. He is absolutely mesmerized by you, your body, every little movement, every little sound, too focused on giving you all he can to pay much attention to the growing need in his own abdomen, grinding his hips distractedly against your ass every so often.

You whine, almost pained, when his two fingers leave you momentarily to trace along your folds once again, one digit on either side, pressing in slightly. Your fingers clutch weakly at his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, panting at the short reprieve. "Sol, Sol," you manage, mostly unaware of what you would say. "You're so good, so good, fuck."

He bites your shoulder playfully, and you see his teeth glint through the mirror. "If you keep praising me, I might do something I'll regret," he says lowly, a breath short of a dark chuckle. 

His words send a pleasant chill down your spine. A smile makes its way onto your lips. "You're amazing," you whisper, mustering up any compliment you could give as occupied your mind was otherwise. "So good to me, so lovely." You reach up and brush your fingers through his hair with one hand before clutching at his soft strands, forcing his head up to look directly into your eyes. "Sol, you're such a good boy."

You think you hear him curse, but your heart is beating too loudly in your ears, and you have no time to reconsider your boldness before his fingers snap into you once more, without warning. Your back arches sharply, the pressure of his palm against your clit unexpected yet full of promise. Your head falls back against his shoulder, and his hand moves from your chest to your hair to hold it back up, forcing you to meet his gaze in the mirror. He pauses momentarily at your neck, and you both marvel at how nicely it fits in his hand. Then his fingers are back in your hair, maneuvering you to bare your skin for him. All the while, his fingers are pumping steadily, fucking you with an expertise that seems impossible as your first encounter; he abuses the spot that makes you see stars with hardly any effort. 

You watch, powerless to do much else, as Sol leaves a trail of kisses from your collar to your jaw. You shiver when his tongue pokes out to lick playfully at the skin on your neck.

And then, he releases his acme into you through that point on your neck.

You practically scream his name, losing any last bit of sense you'd been barely holding onto. You only just miss him lose his composure as well, groaning and biting his tongue behind you as white spots dot your vision. Your orgasm swallows you whole, wave upon wave of pleasure racking through your body, leaving you quaking. You have no control over the way you move, your walls convulsing around his still-moving fingers and releasing your juices into his palm still grinding down hard on your clit, your hips stuttering and pushing sporadically against his thigh between your legs. Your senses are so overwhelmed yet everything feels good, so, so good, you can't focus on any one thing, mind numb with euphoria. You gasp and shudder, a string of curses mixing along with his name falling from your open mouth, and you clutch desperately onto his strong biceps, his hold on you like a vice, grounding, comforting. 

He was the source of your blissful little chaos, yet was a beacon of assurance at the same time. How very like him.

In what seems like hours, you finally fall limp in his arms, utterly, satisfyingly spent. "Sol." Your voice is raspy, and you can't bring yourself to meet his gaze just yet, cheeks heating in embarrassment. If this was the effect he had on you with….just that, how much more wild would he render you when...when…-?

You're distracted by his fingers leaving you, and you almost weep at the loss of warm pressure. You look up just in time to see him bring his sullied digits to his lips, and he sucks on them diligently. Something warm and familiar shoots down your spine, and your face only grows hotter still. "Sol!”

Sol only smirks imperceptibly, releasing his ring finger with a barely audible pop that makes you flinch. He reaches down to straighten up your skirt, and abruptly catches you when your knees buckle. He scoops you up in his arms without another word, letting you bury your face in his chest in unspeakable humiliation as he carries you to a lusciously cushioned chair. He brushes his fingers through your hair soothingly, letting you recover in comforting silence. You hug him tightly and focus on his breathing, until it matches up to yours.

"I'm sorry," he says finally, and his deep voice is a soft rumble against your spot on his chest. "I don't want to hurt you."

You peek at him through your lashes, and blush again when you find him staring intently at you, those icy blue eyes so sincere. "Don't apologize, you didn't hurt me." You reach up to straighten the lines of worry on his forehead with your finger, admiring how adorable he was even when he was so concerned. Which was almost always, as you've come to know. "I promise. I'd tell you if you did."

He only looks at you, unconvinced.

You take one of his hands and press your lips to each of his knuckles, grinning as a thought takes root in your mind once more. You know exactly how to distract him, to tease him. 

"So, you like it when I praise you….."

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Loyalty

A/N: I got inspiration for this piece from the Tumblr account @xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx​ (I got their permission to tag them!) however I think they’re a wonderful writer and always one of the top ones with a huge amount of Gerard x Reader fics that I keep on crawling back to. They have a work called “Gotham City Rivals” (with two parts) that I fell in love with and decided to do my own spinoff of with their idea. I also don’t know that much about any DC comics, most of Gerard’s character in this is based off of Bruce Wayne, but I didn’t do a bunch of research so I apologize for any inaccuracies. Hope you guys enjoy! Pairing: Batman!Gerard x Catwoman!Reader Word count: 2,781 Warnings: Angst, minor fighting, swear words, injury, mentions of blood.

You slipped off your skin tight suit with a harsh gasp, your teeth grinding together at the rough cuts that the latex and leather of your suit now brushed against. Yet the sounds of a hot shower and the steam that you could already see promised some element of relief to the pain. “You alright?” You heard your boyfriend walk in the room, armor still on in it’s completion besides his mask and gloves that he was currently carelessly throwing on the marble counter.

“Yeah, I think so.” You responded, examining the damage of your wounds in the mirror. “Not the worse I’ve taken.” Reflecting back on the various gun shots and stabs you’ve received over the years.

He came over, standing behind you. His metal armor always looked so good on him, solid black with small decals that you felt lucky enough you only got to see. He gave small kisses on the cuts and bruises along your shoulder and collarbones. It wasn’t in a sexual way, more in a caring one.

He finally decided to take off his suit as well, revealing his soft muscles but well built frame. You always found it funny how comic and cartoon artists portrayed real life heroes. They ignore your hip dips, made your waist the size of a pencil, and even overemphasized your boobs. And with Gerard, well, he was actually a lot like what artists portrayed him as, maybe just a little less triangle shaped.

“Next time,” You sighed as you look at him in the mirror that was now fogging with steam, his eyes on yours through the reflection, “You’re taking more hits.” He lightly laughed.

“Fine.” He agreed with a kind smile, “If you insist.”

“I’ve told you a million times, Gerard, I don’t know anything about those two!” You paced around his marble office trying to explain to him, “They are batshit crazy. They hold no patterns, no compunction, it’s part of their game and it makes it fun for them.” Your feet hastily moved back and forth on the gray tiled floor, the only light source was the sun creeping through the gray clouds outside and small desk-lamps around the large room.

“You’ve worked with her a few times,” He argued back from across his desk where he sat, “You have to know something.” “Those ‘two times’ happened probably five years ago, and it was exchanging files for some cash that’s it.” You sighed, “They don’t have a plan, ever, that’s what I’m telling you. Gerard, I know you’re incredibly smart and think with a plan. And the Joker’s really fucking smart too, but he’s also mentally insane and has no grip on himself other than to kill. He’s like a wild fucking animal.” Your boyfriend leaned back in his chair with a heavy sigh, his finger holding his temple together as he collected himself. “If I could help you on this, you know I would in a heartbeat.”

“Would you though?” His anger was growing, both he and you knew it. In fact, the entire room and all its objects were now drowning in the tension.

“What?” You asked barely above a whisper and through teeth clenched together, eyebrows furrowing as your vision grew red. There was no response. “If you’re questioning the integrity of my current work then fuck off. You’re too scared to kill the man, and now you’re gonna put some of this one me?” You snapped, he remained emotionless. Damn he was good at his job. “Go fuck yourself Gerard.” And with that, you stormed out of the room and up to your shared bedroom.

This stupid mansion he lived in was still a maze to you, and stomping through it in your utter fit of rage didn’t help, the sound of your feet bouncing off the large halls. It made your head want to explode.

You had never once blown up on him in your two years of dating and partnership. But never had he ever questioned your morals, or more importantly your loyalty. And you were expecting some form of an apology in the least.

Sure, you felt a little bad about bringing up his own methods of working. He had his extremely valid reasons, but it was a button to push in response to him pushing yours. You knew you would apologize eventually, but you needed him to come to you first.

After all, he was the one acting like a child. It was almost like an interrogation of you, despite the fact you had told him countless times that you knew nothing about the Joker or Harley. Other than the two deals you made with them in your early days for some extra money, those two were wild cards.

So you sat in the absurdly big California king with decorated in a gray and black and decided to do some breathing exercises so you didn’t use the wall as a knife throwing target.

It was hours, no, more than hours before you saw your lover again. And if it wasn’t for your stomach grumbling in hunger you would’ve stayed cooped up in the room. You wandered your way into the grand kitchen, beginning to look for whatever you could.

Grabbing a cookie from a batch you had baked just the day before, you began brewing some coffee for yourself. Of course you didn’t hear Gerard walk in, since you two had begun this whole partner/dating thing he had begun picking up on some of your specialties, such as being extremely quiet. On missions and such you were thankful for it, considering his armor was quite clunky, but now you regretted it.

The two of you didn’t even acknowledge each other’s presence, despite the fact that you were only a few feet a way. It was like a silent game, but just completely ignoring each other. It was like the other person didn’t even exist.

But the tension was a whole other level. You literally felt suffocated by how tense it was. And you knew your lover felt the same. With the extremely small glances you took you were able to piece together how he was definitely a form of uncomfortable, his emotions starting to break through, which you knew they would eventually.

You decided once your drink was done to leave the room, leaving Gerard and the extreme conflict behind. Well, some of it at least. And back in your room you grew bored, fast.

You didn’t want to show your weak side, determination to not be the first to apologize flowed through your veins. So, you decided to relieve your stress the way you always did.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You heard Gerard’s voice echo through the hallway next to you. Your skintight suit hugged your body, kitten heels hitting the ground in rhythm.

“Going out.” You replied.

“In your suit?” He questioned, this time grabbing your arm tightly with his hand. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh?” You questioned, turning to him and eyeing him through your mask, “And what are you gonna do about it?”

“Don’t test me.” He warned, his voice growing deep. This time, you pulled your arm harshly from his grip, which he didn’t fight back.

“That’s what I thought.” You spat, walking off.

Patrols were not the most enjoyable thing, the only time they were was when you were stressed and needed something to take your mind off of all your problems. A relationship limiting argument between you and your boyfriend was a perfect example.

Very rarely, if ever, did big stuff happen in Gotham. Small crimes like robberies, domestic cases, so on and so forth could be dealt with by the excuse of a police department the city had to offer. You were wondering when the federal government would finally come and kick a shoe up their ass.

It was funny, Gerard with all his power, I mean being the Gerard Way (despite the fact absolutely no one knew he was Batman) still couldn’t convince major officials to bring in more backup despite his numerous requests hidden in comments within conversations. The excuse was always that Gotham didn’t need help: they had Batman.

And let’s not forget his stealthy partner who did a lot of the work as well, the wonderful Catwoman who always got overlooked by the patriarchal influences that still flushed their way into society today. You scoffed at it.

On your earpiece you heard an incoming for an “escalating situation” at one of the prisons, which was just icing on the already destroyed caked for “a bunch of dangerous prisoners just got out.” Great.

It took you less than five minutes to be at the scene, strutting in and flashing your badge. It wasn’t that you actually needed one, it was just for good measure.

You got led through the dozens of police cars lining the outside of the prison all with flashing lights and a few sirens still going, escorted by one of the main detective inside where you were met with another officer talking to the one and only man himself.

Those hazels eyes hidden well under the mask looked up and met yours, softening just a bit from the black optics of Batman’s as you approached him. “Catwoman.” He said in a stern tone.

“Batman.” You responded the same, arms crossed over your chest.

You were briefed on the situation: A bunch of highly dangerous criminals did escape and were on the loose. The police felt that they needed help because some may or may not have ties to the Joker, therefore it made it a case for you and Gerard to deal with.

“Be careful,” Gerard told you, the two of you walking side by side in the street on patrol and looking out, “I don’t want you getting hurt again.” “Please,” You scoffed, “These guys probably have guns and a destructed god complex. I don’t see a problem.” “Some of these are former Arkham patients.” He warned, “They could be dangerous. And crazy.” “Like we haven’t dealt with that before.” You reminded him, “Or more specifically me, because I could have connections, ya know?” A verbal stab for sure. He looked over and glared.

“We’re not having this conversation right now.” “So when we get home are you finally going to grow up and have one after the entirety of today?”

“I told you-” Before he could even finish the two of you were surrounded by men with guns and various other forms of highly illegal weaponry. “Shit.” He muttered.

“Yeah shit.” You responded as bullets began shooting towards you. A few of them managed to ricochet off of nearby metal beams hitting your attackers, while other nearly missed you as you managed to jump behind them. With a few solid kicks and swings you were able to disarm and knock out four or five of them, Gerard getting the other 10 of them or so considering his suit and physical ability was greater than yours.

“How many were there again?” You asked him.

“15.” He responded. You looked around, mentally counting the bodies.

“Perfect, 15.” You responded with a sigh. “Do they not know how to scatter?” He shook his head.

A deafening silence filled the car on your way home, the only thing being heard was the soft engine rumbling of the mobile. You were still going to be strong about this whole thing, despite the fact that you wanted it to be over with.

You looked around out of boredom, and down at your suit to see if there was any damage. And, well, there was more than damage. “Well, would you look at that,” You lightly laughed, looking at the left side of your torso where a big slash and blood was seeping through. You hadn’t noticed any pain or anything until you looked down.

“What the fuck?” He asked, looking down to from the road.

“Gee, pay attention to the road.” He reluctantly huffed and put his gaze back there.

“You have a huge fucking slash on your side.” “I know,” You commented, “Oh well, we’ll fix it when we get home.”

You hadn’t noticed his increase in speed or the extra few minutes he cut off as you pulled into the large and modern mansion. Before you could even step out of the car in the garage Gerard had already opened your car door and picked you up, carrying you bridal style.

“You know I can walk.” You lightly laughed, holding on to his arms, “I think it was just a bullet graze.”

“I don’t want you hurting yourself.” He placed you down on the couch, “Let me grab the first aid kit.”

He was gone for only a few moments, coming back with the kit in handy, no mask and gloves this time, with no time to remove his armor. It wasn’t a life threatening wound, that’s for sure. “May I?” He asked, motioning to the zipper on the back of your suit. It was so cute to you how he always asked, despite your years of being together. You nodded, moving your hair out of the way.

He took your suit off with ease, helping you step out despite the harsh feeling you got from the slash. Carefully he sat you back down, dabbing your wound with a bit of alcohol and making sure not to directly touch the affected area. There was a certain spot where he had to touch the wound with the cottonball. You couldn’t help but cringe and gasp at the painful feeling, shutting your eyes as it felt like your flesh was burning. “I’m sorry baby.” He commented, squeezing your thigh for support. “You’re doing so great.”

It took him only a few more minutes, and the two of you deciding stitches may be stretching it too far, for you to finally be all bandaged up. You slowly got up, Gerard coming right to you and helping to hold your hips up. “I would suggest a bath but-” “Not a good idea.” You lightly laughed, placing your head on his shoulder. “Thank you.” You mumbled.

“No problem.” He responded, kissing the top of your head. “You alright?” You nodded as he picked you up again, taking you to the bedroom to rest.

He placed you lightly on the bed while removing the covers on the side you always slept. You crawled into the open area he had created, placing your wounded body onto the sheets and covering it up. “Do you want some pajamas?” He asked, now removing some of his suit, his unbrushed and tangled black hair fell just below his eyes.

“Yeah, actually,” You lightly smiled, “If you wouldn’t mind. This sports bra is kinda tight.” He nodded, walking into your closet and grabbing some sweatpants, while walking into his own to grab an old t-shirt, knowing those were your favorite things to wear.

He gave them to you, and stood there watching to which you rolled your eyes, “C’mon now, turn around.” You instructed, his eyes went wide with a form of embarrassment, “You don’t get to see my tits, yet.” He sighed, complying with you as you slipped your bra off and shirt on in a few seconds.

You decided against pants, considering that would take a lot of extra effort. So you just pulled the covers over you, sinking back in. “You can turn around now.” And Gerard did, looking at you with the shirt on and residing to his own side of the bed next to you.

You chose a petty play next, completely ignoring him, waiting for an apology. “I’m sorry.” He said, leaning back on the frame of the bed and looking at you. You looked back at him signaling him to do more explaining, “I’m sorry for questioning your loyalty and moral of your work. I know those two things matter to you very much, and I had no right to question either of those.” You took a moment to let the words settle in.

“Thank you,” You responded, “I’m sorry for bringing up the way you work. I know why you do it and I, too, didn’t have the right to do that either.” “Thank you.” He responded, both of you taking sighs of relief as most of the tension alleviated. “I love you.” He told you next. It had taken him a full year to speak those wonderful three words to you, and whenever he said them you always cherished the way they sounded.

“I love you too.” You responded with a small smile, placing your head on his shoulder which he happily complied with.

[anightflower]

Come and Find Me Chapter 6: 24 Hours

Hello my darlings, here is chapter 6 FINALLY. Thank you for letting me work on my mental health, I can’t express how much every interaction I’ve had with you has helped, whether it be a like, comment, or reblog, you guys have brought me SO MUCH JOY. 

Masterlist 

Spencer Reid x Reader 

Warnings: Violence, swearing, mentions of rape

Spencer clenched his fists to keep his hands from shaking. “What do you mean never see her again? Don’t you dare fucking touch her-”

“Tsk, tsk Doctor, there is a lady present. Though she can’t hear us at the moment.” The voice murmured condescendingly. “But I am a fair man Doctor, I will let you speak to her, eventually.” 

“Let me speak to her now.” Spencer growled. 

“So demanding Doctor, but I suppose I’ll oblige you, if only because she looks so broken right now.” The voice cooed. 

There was silence on the phone for a moment, the beeping of buttons and then, your voice. 

“What do you want now you sick bastard?” You sounded tired, defeated. Spencer felt his heart break. 

“(Y/N), can you hear me?” Spencer asked urgently. On the live feed, you head shot up and looked around. 

“Spencer?” Your voice broke and tears blurred your vision. “Am I dreaming?”

“No, no! I’m coming to find you baby. I promise, this sick bastard is not going to win-” Spencer said encouragingly.

Hope filled your eyes, but quickly disappeared behind nerves. You had to tell him the last place you were. He had to find you and you didn’t know how much time you had left. 

“Spence, I made it to Florida, call the hotel I was at. They might have security footage-” Your voice was cut off. 

“Now, that’s no fair. She can’t help you.” The voice said angrily. 

“No, put her back on the line you sick f-” Spencer yelled into the phone desperately. He could see that you were still talking on the video feed. Tears slid down his face as he watched you mouth “I love you.” You didn’t even know that he couldn’t hear you anymore. 

“24 hours doctor.” The voice said and hung up. The live feed went black.

“It’s a burner phone. I could triangulate it to two cell towers, but that could put it anywhere in Miami.”  Penelope explained.

The room was silent as they waited for Spencer’s reaction. His shoulders were tense, he still eyed the screen, his back completely turned to the team. 

“Spencer?” JJ asked, gently coming up to him. 

“JJ, I’m going to give you the number to (Y/N) hotel. I need you to get any security footage you can from them. Penelope will use face scan and analyze it.” Spencer ordered, his body still tense and unmoving. 

“I’ll contact them and the local police down there, have them start looking for (Y/N)  and set up a place for us at their precinct.” JJ reassured. 

“I’m going to call Hotch and Rossi, I’ll tell them to meet us at the jet.” Emily said. “Maybe they got something out of Curtis that can help us out.” 

Spencer nodded, unable to form words around the tightness in his throat. 

“We’ll get her back Reid, and then we want a proper introduction.” Morgan teased, trying to ease Spencer. 

As they all began to move to grab their go-bags, Spencer’s phone rang again.

Spencer took a deep breath, as he glanced at his phone. It was Ava’s contact. 

He quickly answered it. “Ava?” 

“Spencer,” Her voice sounded terrified. “I need you to come to this address, I think (Y/N)’s in danger.”

________________________________________________________________

You jumped as the door to your “room” slammed open. 

“You stupid bitch!” The voice wasn’t as deep now without it’s automated assistance, but his voice was still muffled behind a mask. It was a cheap plastic Halloween mask, the one you get so you can decorate it however you want. It’s blank white stare covered his whole face. 

He stalked his way toward you angrily, causing you to push yourself further back onto the bed. There was no place for you to go. 

“You just couldn’t keep your mouth shut huh? You are so moon eyed over your Doctor that you fucking cheat. You whore!” He grabbed your ankles and pulled on your chains, dragging you down the bed, causing you to scream. His grip was hard enough to leave bruises. 

“Do you know what happens to whores?” He growled. “They get what they deserve.” 

He tried to push your legs open, but you clawed at his arms, hard enough to break your nails and draw blood. As he tried to draw his arms back, you scratched at his face, ripping the mask off and catching one of his eyes.

He let out a pained scream and backhanded you across the face. You yelped as it sent you flying back against the bed.

You quickly pushed yourself up, readying yourself if he tried to advance on you again. He was hunched over, grabbing at his face, blood leaked from where your nails had dug in. 

“It wasn’t supposed to go this way.” He said enraged. 

Your body froze at that voice. A voice that you knew all too well. A voice that didn’t speak much, but when it did, there was always a smile on his face. 

“No.” You whispered softly.

________________________________________________________________

Andrew Curtis, 29 years old, 6’4. Auburn hair, brown eyes, and a friendly smile that had made women trust him when he had come into their home. 

The man in front of him was smug, too smug for someone who is going to be behind bars for the rest of their life. Hotch wished he could tackle him to the floor and wipe the gleeful look off of his face. 

5 innocent women, almost 6. Women with families and lives just wiped from the world because of the sick bastard in front of him. 

“Oh Agent Hotchner, Agent Rossi, what brings you to my humble abode? I’ve recently redecorated, I hope you like it.” Andrew Curtis laughed. 

Hotch and Rossi didn’t deign to respond, hiding their disdain behind a stern blank mask. 

“Ouch, so cold as always, here I was hoping something interesting happened for you to come visit me.” Curtis said with a pout. 

“Rumor has it you’ve been receiving letters from an outside anonymous fan, care to enlighten us more about him?” Rossi said, voice cold. 

“Not even a greeting, a little catch up? How is the rest of the team, Prentiss, JJ,- oh and my dear favorite doctor Reid.” Curtis purred.

“I did always find your connection to Reid fascinating, you only let him talk with you and a little bird told us you keep newspaper clippings about him and much of his thesis and research work.” Rossi pushed, ignoring Curtis’s taunts.

“Oh my guards are such gossips, but I suppose there's not much else to keep them entertained around here.”

Hotch let out a growl. “Let’s skip the games Curtis. You know you have nothing over us, you’re locked here for the rest of your miserable existence and then some. We will not be your source of entertainment. Who have you been communicating with?”

“You know, I never thought you guys would catch me, and it truly took a toll on me when you did. But I had a small victory knowing that you had gotten some of my profile wrong.” Curtis smiled and it made ice fill Hotch’s veins.

“Oh and how is our profile wrong? You’re still in a cell aren’t you? Everything we said turned out to be correct.” Rossi said confidently.

“You might have profiled me correctly dear Rossi, but I am afraid you missed a small crucial detail.” Curtis hummed proudly. 

“And what would that detail be.” Hotch urged. 

“The kind that costs ya Hotchner. Maybe a nicer cell, with a little less security.”

Hotch and Rossi exchanged a look. Could it be worth it? 

Hotch dipped his chin in agreement. Yes, if only for Reid.

“We will see what we can do.” Rossi said slowly.

A smug look crossed Curtis’s face as he leaned back in his chair, satisfied. He looked like the cat that got the cream and the male Agents across from him hated it. “Allow me to let you divine profilers know, that you were wrong and that you might have caught me, but you did not catch my prodigy.” His victorious laugh bounced off the walls, grating the tense room.

“Your prodigy?” Hotch probed, his voice dangerously low, a sign that he would explode if he wasn’t careful.  Rossi gave him a side glance, an attempt to remind Hotch to keep a steady head. 

“Oh yes, it’s a thrill really, knowing that he is still out there, maybe he already has a new victim! But guessing by the fact that you are here, he already took someone, didn't he? Did he leave a calling card?” 

Rossi and Hotchner remained silent and stern faced. 

Curtis cackled, ”He left my calling card didn’t he? Your faces say it all! Oh boy, he really is my best student.”

“Who is he Andrew? We need a name-”

“He finally did it, he got the girl didn’t he?”

“Got who?” Hotch asked. “Curtis is a narcissist, play to that and he will give everything up in no time.” Rossi reminded him before they went into the room.

“Your dear Doctor’s girl! He left hints, but I wasn’t sure that the kid had it in him to be honest, he always seemed too soft.” 

“You sure talk a mean game for someone who doesn’t know what’s going on.”  Hotch growled, knowing this would rouse up Curtis. 

“Oh come now Hotch, don’t play coy with me.” Curtis growled, “He’s got (Y/N), pretty (Y/C/H) haired thing, who if my little brother didn’t care so much for, would have been one of my own victims.”

“This prodigy is your little brother?” Rossi asked, not allowing Curtis to find out if he was right or not. 

“No, not blood related, just someone I took under my wing.” 

The door to the interrogation room opened and a guard popped his head in. “Agent Hotchner, you have an urgent call from an Agent Prentiss?”

“Of course, excuse me.” Hotch said, getting up and making his way out of the room.

He came back less than a minute later. “Agent Rossi, they’ve found a lead.” 

Now it was Rossi’s turn to smirk. “Looks like we won’t be needing you after all Curtis, but do enjoy your current view.” 

Curtis growled and yanked at his chains. 

Rossi rolled his eyes as he got up to leave.

Right as Rossi was about to leave the room, Curtis’s voice piped up, “Nothing brings me more joy than knowing I tricked you, that you profilers failed to figure out that I didn’t work alone. Your devout profiling method was wrong and now my prodigy lives on, achieving his dreams, and ruining you and your doctor in the process.”

Rossi slammed the door shut to block out Curtis’s manic laughter. 

________________________________________________

I was thinking of doing a permanent taglist for all of my fics, if you’d like to become a part of it please let me know!

TAGLIST 

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[frostahesmegabite]

How would he react, if he were transported into a "Steampunk" or "Cyberpunk" universe? 🤔 (I'll let you choose between the two.)

[ Good question @jacobdcheshyre! Thankfully with WoW and the Mechagon patch we had, I pretty much got to have that Steampunk sort of vibe for a little bit with the whole scrap yard piping everywhere sort of bit. Albeit, I know that's not 100%, but it gave me a good feel for how excited Mega would be! Needless to say, he walked away from that expansion with several new weapons designs and ideas as well gadgets and a new-found sense of purpose and inspiration. So, for a quick IC post, I'm gonna roll out with Cyberpunk. Now, forewarning, my knowledge here is limited, not out of lack of caring, just never got much time to explore it and my knowledge comes pretty much from Cyberpunk 2077 game, so I'm gonna essentially adapt him for that sort of lore/canon. ] A blinding flash of light and colors occurs! This isn't right! They're not only offensive to the eyes, but each sudden shift comes with a smash of concussive energy as if being hit by a sudden wash of air from an arriving hurricane. The largest problem isn't that it isn't just one, but a reoccurrence whose frequency is picking up in rapidity while being accompanied with the sudden shift of falling! Meghes begins to flip and roll, losing any track of what's up and down and he screams out into the cascade of colors! "Turn tha fuckin machine off! Bring me back!" Panic wasn't setting it, it was already there and was choking him out as he couldn't stabilize due to the turbulence and lack of identification on what was up or down, left or right! Bam! Bam! Bambam! BamBamBam! BAMBAMBAMBAM! Each forceful blow sent him flying in a whole new direction and he'd suddenly vomit, near ready to lose consciousness from it. Then... it settles and a bright light nearly blinds him, forcing his hands up just for him to realize that it's the Sun! Thank the Light! Maybe that was a bit to early though as he realizes he's still in freefall. This he can handle now that he has direction and he quickly flips around, gaining his bearing just to realize this sure as fuck isn't Azeroth anymore! As he flies down towards the ground, smooth towers of steel and glass stab up at the morning sky as if they were pointing up at his point of entry! He tries to scream, asking where the hell he's at but at this speed, words at lost and someone might as well have a leafblower pointed at his mouth. Around this moment is where reality kicks in and he sees the ground coming up -fast- and he casts a Feather Spell! Nothing. Panic sets in and he tries again. Still. Nothing. His mouth opens to scream but it sounds more akin to a blarglglgh! than actual vocabulary. He begins to slap himself, patting himself down for anything, mana crystals? All gone. No recharge. What the fuck?! His hands get to his vest, feeling around. Magical items all gone. Gold damn it! His hands go to his belt buckle, every goblin hand one and thank what the hell ever was watching over him, his belt was still there! His fingers twist off the buckle and he's given a small remote that's palmed and he hits the bright red button upon it, instantly activating his set of rocket boots so he can slow his descent! This wasn't going to save him, there wasn't enough fuel for that, but he had to slow down for the next part or he'd surely just fall to his death! With a few stalling blasts, the device in his hand begins to go off with alarms, warning to a low fuel source and with his other hand, he goes to his work vest and jerks on a rip cord! His clothing explodes out the back (thankfully not out of his ass!) and Goblin Glider's wings extend to the left and right above him as the boots propel him forward as opposed to down, helping to offer leverage so he can steer and glide down properly! Mega would need to thank Maxwell for that. Now though that this emergency was coming to a standstill, he begins to look around, trying to figure out just where the fuck he's at. "Tha hell did that Portal Machine take me..." Mega's body shakes from the adrenaline spike, but he maintains a grip as he soars overhead some mile up off the ground. His red eyes look

over the ground, trying to figure out who the hell built all of this! Was it Goblins? No. Not enough pollution or explosions, at least not here anyways. Gnomes? Maybe... but they tended to favor underground facilities and this certainly wasn't that either! Slowly, people come into better view and the site of vehicles and street vendors and people come into view and the signs! Oh all the signs! So many colors and advertisements! If it wasn't for all the humans plastered and shoved into all of them, he'd swear this was some kind of Goblin City centered entirely on Commerce and Trade, but that's when it hits him. This is nothing but Humans and Humans weren't like this... At least... not back on the Azeroth he knew. He needed time to process this, but with all the new sights and sounds, it was hard to do, even from way up here! "Where the fuck did that portal put me?!" He screams out, a new type of concern coming to mind now as he begins to look for a place to land. There's fucking people everywhere and while he's not familiar with what type of vehicles he's seeing, he sure as hell knows a road (Thanks Kezan!) when he sees one and he makes sure to steer clear from the Highway and the massive metal boxes going gold knows how fast! He starts to scan quickly, there! Trash bags! A heap of crap and junk on the ground, perfect! He begins to steer his glider into an Alleyway, bringing himself in and slowing his assent along the way until his feet touch down and he's left running. He plants his feet and pulls back against the Glider, using it as a counterweight to bring him to a skidding stop just before his crash pad of foul smelling trash! Phew! Mega didn't care about the Glider anymore at this point, nope! It was spent and he'd begin to rush towards the Alleyway entrance, hiding behind a dumpster to scan the area around him. "Well... smells like trash and shit here but... these humans." He pauses, seeing a human walk by with a set of massive mechanical arms that look like they could pulverize stone! But, they move so smoothly! They surpass anything he ever saw with Naturasu's prosthetics or anything the Gnomes or even Draenei came up with! These things moved as if they were essentially organic, but they weren't! Something in Mega's brain breaks in that moment and any fear or concern he has, suddenly floods out of him and is replaced by pure unadulterated excitement and he rushes into the street, scaring the every living fuck out of someone who thought he was some kind of overgrown rat or lab experiment until they see him dressed and moving with purpose! Megahes runs into the crowd and ocean of people, awe and amazement clear on his face as he gets way to close to several people with clear prosthetics and even some of them with weapons right there on their hips or backs! And some of their suits! Mega was in heaven! So many new things to explore! So much to try to take back... [For the sake of this already being -massive-, I'm gonna OoC cut in here and say that I think it's very fair that Megahes would probably have mental orgasms as he learned about everything and while he would try to find a way home, he'd also be working to try to learn as much about all of this that he can so he can take these ideas and designs home as well. Even if he wouldn't ever get back home, his apartment, home or where ever the hell he ended up staying would end up stuffed with nearly every schematic and idea design he could think of to take back. ]

[babylooneytoonz]

Warnings: Well, I just want to apologize in advance for what you're all about to read. Your truth is revealed, not to Bucky. You are not who you think you were.

Coffee Stains Masterlist here.

"Hey, look at me, you're alright, okay? Nothing's gonna happen," Bucky's warm flesh palm felt over your bump, and instinctively, you winced when his fingers brushed against something just underneath the base of your bump, towards the left. That's when he felt something sticky and warm in his palm.

He was pulled into the grip of silent panic, his eyes wild and his pupils dilated as he looked at the blood coating his fingers; it was only then that he realized what had happened. You had been shot. His heart had begun to race, and his temples throbbing in an incoming headache, like a bomb that had exploded in his brain.

"Buck.. I don't feel so good."

"It's just a graze, love. It's nothing, trust me, yeah?" Bucky's metal arm slid underneath your thighs and in one sweep, he pulled you into his arms, and reflexively, your eyes now droopy, you let your head rest against his chest, feeling the symphony of his breaths, that seemed to be relaxing you.

Bucky used his other hand to slide his phone out of his pocket and the first person he dialed was Steve.

"Y/N has been shot. I'm taking her to the hospital," he looked down at you to see that your eyes were almost closed now, but you were breathing, although shallow, "it's not looking good, Steve. I need you here. I need you right now. Please." 

You let out a cough, which was more of a laugh, but it sounded like a cough as air was lodged to your throat, mumbling barely incoherent words, "Winter... Soldier, you really need Captain...America..to save your ass don't you?" He just smiled, pulling you tighter against his chest, as though you were slipping away, "Fuck Winter Soldier, you know I'm nothing without you now." You were trying ... fighting to stay awake, even more so upon hearing his words, as you clung on to your boyfriend, your hand locked around his neck. You somehow managed to open your eyes, and your eyes caught the sight of a hospital.

"Bucky?"

He looked down at you, and a weak smile draped over his lips when he saw that you're awake. What you said to him, however, broke his heart into two and he wished that this hadn't happened to you.

"Will you promise me something?"

"What?" He asked.

"If something does happen to me, make sure you don't raise this one alone, you should raise them with Natasha."

He blinked, struggling to mask the tears that had now surfaced in his eyes as he bit down on his tongue, and shook his head. The two of you fought like cats and dogs, but he couldn't think of you not being here, even for a second.

"I would never promise you such a thing, because there's no one else I want to raise our kid with. And I mean, you."

You parted your lips, and all that came out was a weak sounding exhale, so you just succumbed against his chest, humming slightly so he knew that you had heard him, but just didn't have the strength to reply.

"I've seen you single-handedly take out five men, and that too, pregnant. You kicked some ass that day," he chuckled, finally letting that thick, warm tear roll down against his cheek, "And if you're telling me, it's one fucking bullet that's gonna be the end of you and end of us, you're just crazy."

He tried to make talk with you, hoping the back of the mind that you will find this urge to stay awake and to fight this for him as the hospital came into view. He muttered something under his breath; pulled out his cellphone again and saw that it was Nick Fury calling him. He received it, and was instantly greeted by a bark on the other end. The call didn’t last long, but Bucky informed him of the hospital that he had taken you into and he told him that he was bringing Y/N's doctor along, as he knew all your stats and vitals.

The instant Bucky stepped into the hallway of the hospital, a glimpse of his metal arm was enough for them to know that he was the Winter Soldier. He laid you on a gurney, and looked at the nurse who was looking down at you questioningly, “Yeah, well, my girlfriend's been shot. She’s seven months pregnant.”

“Sergeant Barnes, you’ll have to wait here, we’ll have to take her in –“

Before either Bucky could reply, or the nurse could even complete her sentence, Fury and a short heighted man dashed into the hospital, and headed straight towards where Bucky was, Fury instantly bending over the gurney so he could look at you.

“I’m her doctor,” you were wheeled into the trauma room and Fury and Bucky fixed themselves on either sides of the hallway, Bucky glancing down at his hands that were coated in your dried up blood. This was all his fault, if only he had been honest with you, honest enough that what happened today could have been avoided.

“I told her that she was making a wrong choice.”

Bucky’s strained, blood shot eyes lifted themselves and he fixed them on the man with the eyepatch who was leaning by the wall on the other end, as he continued speaking, “but she didn’t want to listen to me. She kept telling me that you were the best thing that had happened to her. Look where it’s gotten her now, Barnes.”

“Fury –“ Both Bucky and Fury turned towards the source of the voice, as Steve, Natasha and Sam rushed to where the two men were, Steve leading the way. “leave him alone. Y/N is a grown woman, who can make her own decisions. Besides, how is any of this Buck’s fault?”

“T’s alright, Punk, he’s right though –“

“Excuse me, Sergeant? Mr. Fury?” Y/N's doctor stepped out, his white gloves having turned bright red.

“Doctor, is she okay? Are they okay?” Bucky mumbled as all the Avengers crowded around him.

“Well, although things don’t look bad, the bullet did rupture the amniotic sac, which is why, we’ll have to do an emergency C  - section. Sergeant, looks like you are going to meet your child sooner than you anticipated. You can go and meet her before we wheel her in.”

“Holy shit.” Bucky took a step away, his jaw almost hanging, and his eyes wide; this felt surreal. He felt unprepared suddenly and scared. “Bucky?” Steve’s hand on his back pulled him back from his thoughts and his head snapped towards his bestfriend, Steve noticing the fearful look on his friend's face, “Want to talk about it?”

He swallowed, looking down at his feet and then back up again, almost shaking his head, “Do you think I am ready for this Stevie? I just, I am freaking out.”

Steve gave him a soft smile, reaching out and placing a steadying hand at the back of his friend’s neck, “You’re ready Buck. You’re just scared, but trust me, when you’ll have that little Barnes right there in your arms, you won’t feel so scared anymore. Now go and talk to her, I’m sure she needs you right now daddy.”

“Yeah, punk. Do not say that again.” Steve just chuckled, and Bucky kept smirking as he walked towards the operation room where you were being prepped for that emergency c section.

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

You were laying down on the operation table, your fingers delicately kneading over the fabric of your hospital gown. The bullet wound had already been taken care of, but you could feel the sting from it, along with a throbbing pain radiating from inside your belly. Bucky stepped in, his eyes falling on you, and his heart almost snapped into two when he saw the state you were in.

“I’m so fucking sorry, I’m such an idiot,” he muttered in a low voice as he made his way to you.

“Five minutes, Sergeant.” The nurse whispered, as she stepped out, leaving you and Bucky alone inside.

He pulled the stool, lowering himself on it and placed his palm on your forehead, stroking over your warm, sweaty head. You smiled, blinking at him, your eyes coated with your tears; you weakly lifted your hand and placed it on your boyfriend’s metal hand, that was resting on your stomach.

“How are you holding up, daddy?” You grinned, in a weak voice and he just snorted, leaning close to your face.

“Shit scared, I am freaking out, I’ll be honest, I thought I had two months to mentally prepare myself.”

You nodded, clasping your fingers against his metal ones. “Cold feet yeah? Listen, it’s going to be okay. Whatever happens, I know, that you’ll be there for our kid.”

“Hey, you’re not gonna go anywhere. Don’t say that.”

“Mhm, we don’t even have a name yet. Jesus, we are so unprepared. Are we bad parents, Buck? What are we going to call this one when they're here? Little Buchanan Barnes?” You drawled, squirming slightly so you could get a little comfortable.

“Its time Y/N,” your doctor stepped in, and this was Bucky’s cue to leave, so he stood up, placing a chaste kiss against your sweaty forehead, whispering, "Don't worry , this doesn't make us bad parents, we didn't know that little Buchanan Barnes will want to join us early. Now I'll be outside, waiting for you to give me a healthy little mini you." He smiled down at you, before walking out of the operation theater.

Once he had left, the doctor walked up to you, and gave you weak smile, almost shaking his head, “He deserved to know, Y/N.”

“He would have shattered, doctor. I can’t do this to him. Besides, it is my call right? I’m asking you to save my baby by doing this.”

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

“Something isn’t right, what the hell's going on in there? It’s been two hours.” Bucky ’s pacing didn’t stop, no matter how much Steve or Natasha tried to get him to calm down, and to sit and relax. Something kept bothering him at the back of his mind, something didn’t seem right. Y/N's conversation kept ringing at the back of his mind, on repeat, whatever happens, I know, that you will be there for our kid.

However, the first cry of his little child, from inside the operation room made him forget all his fears. Steve pulled his bestfriend to his chest, clasping his back in a congratulatory way, even Nick Fury was smiling for a change.

The door finally opened, and the doctor stepped out, holding a tiny, wailing bundle in his arms. Bucky swallowed the lump in his throat, his breathing hitched and he gasped, taking a step closer. The baby was so tiny, so fragile, his heart strummed inside his chest just at one look at that baby, “Is it–”

“Its a girl, a healthy little girl.”

Who could have known that the Winter Soldier would finally break at the sight of his own daughter? Tears freely fell down his eyes, and he could feel his lips quiver as the doctor placed his little girl into his arms. He was so scared, he didn’t let his metal arm near her. It was as though she was made of glass, delicate and breakable. That morning he held his new daughter, this was the most perfect feeling he had ever known as it swept through him. He knew he would do anything in the world for her. He would be her hero, her keeper, the one who gave her cuddles and kept her safe. He would be this little girl’s Winter Soldier.

“She is beautiful,” Natasha cooed, staring at the little girl, in awe. Although she wasn't her mother, and she could never be one, the sight of a newborn baby always made her heart swell. She placed her palm softly over the baby's fuzzy little hair, stroking over her matted black hair, “I’m sure you didn’t think of names?”

“I - Y/N would want to name her I think,” Bucky whispered , looking down at her, and suddenly, he looked up at the doctor. “How is she? When is she going to wake up?”

“I, uh..”

Bucky raised his eyebrows in suspicion when the doctor didn’t answer him and instead, averted his eyes.

“How is she?”

After almost a minute of silence, the doctor looked down at his feet, and then back up again, mumbling in a low voice, “We, uh, we couldn’t save her. She couldn’t make it.”

What was once whole suddenly shattered and the baby that wailed in his arms, the happiness of watching her didn’t feel as warm as before. Where there was once was peace , suddenly it was just emptiness, and now her words made sense. She knew this was going to happen, but she chose not to tell him.

“Take her, Steve.”

“Buck, it’s –“

“Not now.” He growled, his eyes raging red, as he slid his baby girl into Steve’s arms; and walked out of the hospital. He didn’t know where he was going or what he was going to do, but he felt betrayed, and suddenly, left alone.

He lost her.

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

Five weeks later,

“Oh, you’re one happy baby aren’t you?” Natasha looked down at the baby. She sat in the recreation room, the little one month old girl they now called Sasha Y/M/N Barnes, as she rocked her on her knees side by side, playing with the girl.

“He still won’t step out of his room?” She asked, when she saw Steve dejectedly step into the recreation room and he just shook his head.

“Let him be, he will be here when he feels he is ready.”

“I’m here now.” A voice called out, from behind Steve, and all heads turned towards Bucky. He stepped in, his hair a mess, his eyes swollen and puffy like he hadn’t slept well in ages but he walked up straight to where Sasha was and threw out his hands towards her. Natasha stood up, gently handing him his daughter whom he immediately brought close to his chest, rocking her slightly.

 Meanwhile, a thousand miles away, in an old HYDRA base in Hungary, you stood in a room, in a center, with almost a hundred men in HYDRA uniforms surrounding you.

“Джоанна, ты позор для ГИДРЫ.” (Johanna, you’re a disgrace to HYDRA.)

You bit your lip hard, running your hand through your short cropped hair, as you mumbled something under your breath, “ Если бы ты не продолжал посылать своих людей выслеживать нас, моя дочь была бы жива.” (If you didn’t keep sending your men to hunt us down, my daughter would be alive.)

“Твоя работа заключалась в том, чтобы заполучить Зимнего Солдата, ни тебе это не удалось, ни ты не мог дать нам ребенка.” (Your job was to get the Winter Soldier, neither did you succeed in that, nor could you get us the baby.)

You threw your hands in the air, exasperated, as you growled in frustration, “ Опять же, мой ребенок не умер бы, если бы один из йойренов не выстрелил в меня.” (Again, my baby wouldn’t have died if one of your men hadn't shot me.)

“Просто забери ее. И приготовь ее стереть все воспоминания.” (Just take her away. And get her ready to get all the memories wiped off.)

You took a deep breath, but didn’t argue or protest when you felt arms grab you by your arms and started dragging you towards the lab. But your mind kept thinking of the things that you had witnessed, before they wiped it all off.

Your name was Y/N, but HYDRA knew you as Johanna. You were a HYDRA infiltrator, working undercover at SHIELD. James Buchanan Barnes had been your mission. You were expected to get close to him, and bring him back, but little did you know, that he will get through to you, and you will end up falling in love with him. You had exploited him, exploited his past, used the torture and the pain that he went through, and fabricated everything. There was no Danny, and no Wallis. Well, there was Wallis, but he wasn’t your real husband, just a decoy that the two of you used when on HYDRA missions. You knew you had to eliminate him, to make sure no one doubted you and that your story looked believable to all the Avengers, and so far, it worked. However, when she came into your life, your little girl, you wanted nothing more than to protect her life; and the love you felt for James Buchanan Barnes grew even stronger, making you run away in the end. But somehow , Bucky ended up finding you and bringing you back, and your plan failed. You had thought that maybe you will pull yourself out from the mess you had landed yourself into and make a home here with Bucky, and your baby, but HYDRA just kept coming back, again and again, trying to get you.

You had to do something, so you could end this once and for all. And it was only one of the two options. You could tell him the truth, of who you were and risk him throwing you out, along with your baby. Or, you could leave your baby with Bucky, and leave him so he could be with the woman who made him feel human once, long time back, Natasha Romanoff.

As for HYDRA, your super serum baby was dead, atleast that's what you told everybody. You doubted now that they would find out about her for a while now, for she was safely at the Avengers Towers, with people who could protect her. You knew that she was safe, safe with Bucky, who would love her more than any other thing in the world. And you were dead, at least for the records. At least for James Buchanan Barnes.

It was a weird night, when thousands of miles away, in the city of Manhattan, Bucky and Natasha stepped into the penthouse suite that belonged to Tony Stark, Natasha holding your daughter against her chest as she cooed to her in Russian, stroking over her little head. Bucky had remembered the promise he never made to you, and perhaps, he owed you this much in death, so he decided to request Natasha to help him raise his little girl with him. At the same time,  somewhere far away from them in an icy cold base in Hungary, you were ready to be put into that memory wiping machine, and be made ready to go for your next mission, whatever it was going to be, but deep down you were at peace, knowing that the man you loved, and your beautiful little girl, were safe and together.

"Till we meet again, my soldier," You smiled, and let the doctor place a metal helmet over your head, and stuff the rubber in your mouth to bite down on.

(Well, bam. I know you guys exploded. Really sorry about that. Well she's HYDRA, and he's just .. always ready to kick HYDRA's ass. Now wouldn't it be a scandal when he finds out that you're not dead? And you're actually one of them? Keep tuned, book 2 will be following this one, and it will be a much darker theme, as compared to this one. Thank you to all of you for reading this one, and for all the love! ❤️)

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@really-dont-forget-it @thepeakygurl @all-art-is-quite-useless @baumarvel @janajjj @chipilerendi @nyotamalfoy @skittychat @allidoiswritewritewrite @jessyballet @x0xchristine @evansgirl7 @supraveng

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[chaotic-noceur]

if you love something, let it go

[ day 2 | angstageddon masterlist ]

pairing: Javier Peña x reader

summary: Javier is familiar with the concept of love, but it is not something he’ll allow himself to indulge in.

warnings: heavy angst, swearing, degradation (DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE NOT IN A GOOD MENTAL SPACE)

credits: shout out to my loves @din-damn-djarin @ezrasarm for beta reading and letting me hurt them at too-early-in-the-morning o’clock! Some dialogue was prompted by this shadowhunters clip.

a/n: I AM SORRY. I love every single one of you reading this but I’m an angry sad soul and it had to go somewhere 😬also, im a little all over the place rn so i might be a little slow on replies but im sending all of you virtual hugs!

Seriously, DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE NOT IN A GOOD HEAD SPACE.  

gif by @pascvl​

You lose your breath every time he walks into the room. Your heart beats faster when he passes by. Your skin tingles when his breath kisses your skin as he hovers over your shoulder. You think this is the feeling that they talk about in the movies. You think this is love. The thought makes your heart flutter.

His mind goes blank every time he sees you. His heart flares when he hears your laughter and he’s not the cause of it. His mind replays your conversations on an endless loop. He thinks this is the feeling that his father had told him about. He thinks this is love. The thought makes his stomach churn. 

●●●●

The betting pool is started by a new trainee looking to make some quick cash. He bet that he could get a confession out of Javier Peña before the year was through. When word gets out that there’s a wager for the office’s resident grump to finally ‘get his head out of his ass and admit his feelings’, agents from every department are quick to place their bets. It didn’t take a trained agent to see that the pair of you were hopelessly in love.

The pool gets spread so far up the ranks that even Messina hears the whispers. She turns a blind eye to the childish game. She knows that the rumours of their infamous philanderer in love were only that: rumours, half truths, lies. A man with his history wouldn’t know what love was even if it was staring him in the face.

Days turn into weeks, which turn into months but no amount of meddling by the trainees is enough to draw out an admission of his affections. Steve watches you from his perch on Javier’s desk as his partner stabs at the typewriter keys. “You could just talk to 'em instead of destroying government assets.” There’s a smugness in his voice that tells Javier that his meddlesome partner is smirking. 

“Fuck off Murphy.” Your laughter cuts through the bustling office chatter. Javier looks up to see a fresh-faced trainee leaning against your desk, taking up too much of your personal space for his liking. He grits his teeth and once again the sound of his furious typing takes over the room. Steve throws his hands up in mock surrender.

●●●●

The clearing of a throat has you turning your head over your shoulder, coffee pot in hand. Steve is leaning against the door frame with one eyebrow raised. You roll your eyes at him as you return to your coffee making. 

“What do you want, Murphy?” you call over your shoulder, feigned curiosity lacing your voice. You know what he wants. He has that look in his eye, the one that says ‘how many more times do we need to have this talk’. 

“Don’t give me that shit,” he starts. You raise an unamused eyebrow at him in return. He puts his mug down beside you, leans his hip against the counter and folds his arms as he turns to you. “If I have to slap him out of his daydream one more time, he won’t have a face anymore.” You scoff.

“You have no proof that he daydreams about me.” He opens his mouth to speak but your finger strikes his chest before he can. Coffee splashes against the inside of the pot dangerously as you move. “And even if he does, that doesn’t mean he’s in love with me.” Steve snorts at your words.

“Oh, he’s in love with you alright. He talks about you so much that even Connie’s getting fed up.” You shake your head in mock disbelief, an attempt to hide the sheepish smile creeping its way onto your face. The blond man sees right through your charade. “Just, tell him for fucks sake. I need my partner back if we’re gonna take down Escobar.”

You open your mouth to counter him but he’s out of the room before you can organise your thoughts. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice his empty cup sitting beside yours. You huff out a laugh, “idiot.”

●●●●

Two months and countless Steve-terventions later, you’d decided that enough was enough. You were getting tired of living in the ‘what ifs’. You wanted to love and be loved by Javier Peña. 

The thought of planning some kind of grand extravagant gesture had crossed your mind but this was Javier you were talking about. He hated grand extravagant gestures. So you settled for just… telling him. No beating around the bush, no carefully-worded metaphors. Just you, your words and your heart. God, you hoped that was enough.

You’re getting ready to leave when the light reflecting off a nearby desk lamp catches your attention. Tracing it back to its source, you find Javier hunched over a heap of files. Spreads of paper are sprawled across every available surface. The corner of your lips turn upwards when he pulls a face at the document in front of him. 

You purse your lips as you contemplate your options: talk to him now, with nowhere to hide from the consequences of your declaration or talk to him during official work hours, where you could be spared prolonged embarrassment. Dozens of scenarios play themselves out in your head, your familiar daydreams altering themselves to fit the scene before you. You let out a puff of air as you settle on talking to him now. Fewer witnesses, for good or for bad. 

You dig around your drawer for your secret stash of snacks before making your way to him. He looks up when he hears the familiar rustling of the packet. A tired smile graces his face as you pull Steve’s chair around, dropping the packet onto his desk as you sit. You fall into the familiar routine and he hands you a nearby file. Occasionally, your elbows kiss and you exchange quiet apologies while pretending you don’t crave each other’s touch.

You’re sweeping stray sheets of paper into your hand when it dawns on you that the ‘right time’ will never come unless you make it. A determined exhale leaves you as you reach across his desk while he files the last of the paperwork. “I need to tell you something and I need you to listen to me.” 

The way you’re looking at him sends a chill down his spine. There’s a fire behind your eyes that he’s never seen before and he doesn’t know what to expect. He nods solemnly instead. This is it, he thinks. She’s going to tell me that I’m a burden or that I’m a fuck up. He braces himself for the news.

“I…” his eyes are fixed on you and you glance away briefly as your confidence wavers. Just tell him. He loves you too. Steve assured you of it. The sheets of paper rustle in your hand as you tighten your grip. “I love you, Javi.” 

Deep brown eyes widen in shock. His heart falters as the weight of your words sink in. He blinks at you hesitantly, wondering if he’d misheard. When you say nothing, fireworks explode in his belly as he searches for his words but- oh.

Why? Why him? Don’t you know of everything that he’s done? He left his high school sweetheart at the altar without so much as a goodbye. He didn’t even have the decency to send her an apology and he can barely bring himself to feel guilty. He’s lied, cheated, and killed without an ounce of remorse. Worst of all, he’d do it all again if it means getting Escobar. He was a monster and a killer. He doesn’t deserve love. Not after everything he’s done. Not after the way he treated his first one. So he does the logical thing. He pushes you away, puts up the barricades and lines them with barbed wire.

“You shouldn’t,” he replies. He jerks his arm away and turns his back to you, moving to store the file in the cabinet behind him.

“But I do. Javi, I-”

“No!” He slams the metal cabinet shut for emphasis. The scraping of rusty metal echoes through the room. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. But Steve had said!

“Just tell me you don’t love me too and I’ll stop. Tell me you don’t feel what I feel. Tell me that your heart doesn’t skip a beat when you make me laugh. Tell me that you don’t count the hours until you get to see me again. Tell me that you don’t wish it was me that you wake up next to instead of-” you choke on your words, instead of your ‘informants’.

He spins around sharply and you fix your gaze on him, desperately willing your heart to stop pounding in your ears. Fiery brown orbs stare back at you instead, void of their previous tenderness. He holds your gaze as he takes curt steps towards you. He’s close enough now that you can feel his breath on your face and your heart clenches in misplaced hope. Your breath hitches as he leans in. 

“I don’t.”

With two words, you see your world shatter before your eyes. You flinch back in response but he keeps going, leaning closer as you draw away. “I don’t love you.” His voice is cold and deadly. It’s icier than you’ve ever heard it and you’ve seen him threaten the devil’s right-hand man. You bite the inside of your cheek in a feeble attempt to stop the tears from welling in your eyes. He doesn’t mean it, you lie to yourself. He can’t mean it. He-

“I never have and I never will. You are nothing but a distraction to me.” He slows his words as he speaks, as if needing to emphasise them. “Do you think you’re important? That you matter? I can’t even tell you what colour your eyes are without looking at them first.” It’s a lie. But you deserve better than a screw up like him. He can’t give you the life you deserve, the life he needs you to live. The life that he wants but can never have. He can’t drag you into the endless pit of darkness that he’s learnt to call home. He won’t. 

He clenches his jaw and brings his lips to your ear, shoving down the urge to kiss you. “I could never love someone as pathetic and weak as you.” He whispers his words like a slow-acting venom, delivering his final blow. He knows he’s hit the mark when he hears the choked sob that leaves your body. He pulls away to see your fists balled at your side as tears glide down your face.

He didn’t have to do that. He could’ve just said no but he didn’t. Instead, he’d rubbed salt into unhealed wounds that you’d made the mistake of showing him. He wanted to hurt you and that made you angry. A quiet voice whispers that he’s hiding behind his words, that there’s more to the story. You silence the voice without a second thought because right now? You don’t care why he did it. All you feel is anger, and pain. 

The fire from before morphs into something sinister and you let the flames grow. It licks at your heart, daring it to explode, to unleash everything you’ve been holding back. So you let him burn in your rage. You let him burn and you drown out the screams.

“Fuck you, Javier Peña!” Your finger stabs into his chest in time with each word. “Fuck you and everything you fight for!” You flail your arms out wide. He flinches but you don’t notice. “All you care about is Escobar. You don’t give a shit who you hurt along the way, as long as you get what you want.” 

You scoff as you fold your arms across your chest. You’re breathing hard out of your nose and you hate the way Javier holds your gaze. You hate the way it challenges you to keep going, almost like he’s enjoying it.

You grind your teeth together as you calm the raging flames inside your chest. “No matter how you spin it Javier, whatever bullshit you tell yourself to get yourself to sleep at night... it’s just that. Bullshit.” You shake your head in frustration as you spin on your heels, turning to leave. 

A picture of him and Murphy falls into your line of sight and something sparks within you. An ember in the dying flames. You drag all the emotion out of your voice before speaking. You need him to hear your words without them being clouded by your fury. “When Murphy walks away from it all, he’ll have someone to go home to. You?” you glance over your shoulder to look at him, “you’ll never have anyone.”

He stays frozen in place until the sound of your shoes tapping against the floor has long since faded. A single tear rolls down the left side of his cheek. I wish it could be you.

——angstageddon tag list

@din-damn-djarin @ezrasarm @chaoticspaceidiot @engineeredfiction @pedropascalito @dreamgirl-67 @hillarymurray4 @wille-zarr @oloreaa @this-cat-is-dea @marydjarin @roxypeanut @cryptkeepersoul @agirllovespasta @wickedfrsgrl @dindisneydjarin  @opheliaelysia @aeryntheofficial @adikaofmandalore​ @goldafterglow​ @yespolkadotkitty​ @chibi-liz05​ @scarlettvonsass​ @rpcvliz​ @cinewhore​ @basura2319​ @theravenreads​ @mxndoscyarika​ @jaime1110​ @f0rever15elf​ @pancakepike​ @phoenixhalliwell​

[ceealaina]

Title: You’re Feeling Just the Same Link: AO3 Rating: Teen Major Tags: MIT Era, Fluff and Humor, Idiots in Love, Pre-Relationship, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Shenanigans Summary: Rhodey's a softie at heart. So when he's walking to campus one day, and sees what appears to be a dead groundhog on the street, he goes to move it out of the way becauses he's just that kind of guy. Only it's not dead, it's just sunbathing in the middle of the road like a dumbass. 

He names it Tony. 

What follows is a series of ridiculous events in which one James Rhodes accidentally adopts a groundhog, and finds himself trying to hide both it and his feelings from the real Tony.  Word Count: 6,774

My long-awaited (by me) fic for the IronHusbands Big Bang. I had an absolute blast working on this. You can find Jay's incredible companion art here, and if you love yourself at all, you'll definitely check it out. Thanks, Jay, for being so wonderful to work with! 

And thank you to feyrelay for letting me scream about this story over and over again!

*****

It started, as these things always seemed to, on a Wednesday. Rhodey was walking to campus, lost in thought about how ridiculously, desperately in love he was with his roommate, when something caught his eye on the road up ahead. There was a small, brown shape on the pavement, still too far away to make out exactly was, but Rhodey had a pretty good idea. 

“Please be a paper bag, please be a paper bag,” he muttered to himself as he moved closer. He’d woken up this morning to Tony looking absolutely gorgeous in worn sweatpants and a threadbare tee. His hair had been a wild mess and his eyes had held a manic gleam behind those adorable glasses of his. Rhodey has wanted to kiss good morning him so badly that for a moment he had thought his heart might explode.

He couldn’t take anymore heartbreak today. 

But as he moved closer, his fears were confirmed. A small groundhog was lying on the road, sprawled on his back with his little feet up in the air. Rhodey felt a pang in his chest. He’d always had a soft spot for animals, and this little guy looked so innocent that it hurt to see him like this. Strangely there wasn’t a mark on him, no sign of blood, and Rhodey wondered if he had maybe scared himself to death instead. That felt even worse, somehow. 

The road was usually fairly quiet, but his location might make it difficult for cars to see him. Rhodey hummed a minute; the groundhog might already be dead, but the idea of leaving him there to be crushed beneath the wheel of a car felt wrong. Making a decision, Rhodey stepped off the sidewalk. He’d just move him off the road and into the grass, where he could rest in peace or whatever. 

He had just bent over to scoop him up — making a mental note to wash his hands very thoroughly the second he got to campus, and to start carrying a pair of work gloves in his bag — when the groundhog shot to life with a low ‘chuck-chuck’ noise. Rhodey yelped, equally startled, and the groundhog shot up onto the grass. For a long moment the two of them just stared at each other in mutual surprise before the groundhog chattered at him angrily and then waddled off into the bushes on the far side of the sidewalk. 

“Well, fuck you too,” Rhodey called after him, a little disgruntled. He hesitated a moment longer after it had disappeared into the shrubs, and then continued on his way to class. “Excuse me for tryin’ help. Not my fault you decided to sunbathe in the middle of the street like a dumbass.” He huffed a laugh to himself. “I’m gonna call you Tony!” he threw back over his shoulder before making at face himself. “Oh my god, I’m yelling at a groundhog. Pull it together, Rhodes.” 

***

Rhodey usually liked to vary his route to campus, but the next day he found himself heading down the same street, telling himself that it was just in case and that if there was no sign of the groundhog, he could stop worrying about it. But, as it turned out, he was right to worry because sure enough, in almost the exact same place, he found the groundhog again, lying apparently lifeless on the side of the road. 

“Okay, seriously?” he asked as he moved closer. This time he could hear actual snores, little snuffling sounds that were kind of adorable. “What, would you like me to bring you a little trifold mirror next time, so you can work on your tan?” 

The groundhog opened its eyes, blinked at him, and apparently deeming him No Longer a Threat, closed them and wiggled against the hot pavement. 

“You are one weird marmot,” Rhodey informed him, moving closer still. “Come on, get up you dumbass rodent. You’re gonna get run over by a car and then we’ll both feel bad.” The groundhog still didn’t move though, not even when Rhodey was standing right next to him. Wondering if groundhogs were people biters, he took a risk and nudged it with his toe. Looking very puto out, it finally got to its feet, chittering at him again as it wandered off into the bushes. “Ungrateful!” Rhodey called after it. 

That afternoon, after Tony had headed back to the lab with a “bye, Honeybear! Save me some dinner!” Rhodey found himself digging out the Yellow Pages, trying to find someone who could safely rehome his new little pfriendet. But apparently groundhogs were considered irrelevant at best and a pest at worst. The city’s animal services didn’t care, and after the fifth private company he called talked about gasses and poisons, he gave up on that route. 

Really all it came down to was tricking the groundhog into new habits. When Tony kept sleeping through his eight am Physics class, the one that demanded mandatory attendance, Rhodey had ‘trained’ him into getting up with coffee; he figured this wasn’t really that different. If he could figure out what the groundhog liked, he could lure him away from the road and then get him to associate the designated safe zone with food. Three weeks tops and the groundhog would be safe and Rhodey could stop worrying about it, easy peasy. 

Problem number one was, of course, that he had no idea what groundhogs even liked to eat. One trip to campus later, and he found himself immersed in the reference section of the library, sitting at a table with three different ‘G’ encyclopedias, two ‘W’ encyclopedias, and a handful of possibly relevant farming and gardening books that he’d been directed to by a bemused looking librarian -- he supposed that groundhogs weren’t the biggest research topic at MIT. 

By the time he made it back to the apartment, it was dark out, Rhodey was exhausted, and he knew more about groundhogs than he’d ever planned. But he also had a good idea of how to lure Tony Jr. away from the road. There’d been a few different ideas about what groundhogs liked to eat, but he planned to start with apples, carrots, and -- weirdly -- cantaloupe (five different sources had sworn by it). He let himself in the door, distracted by planning when he could make a trip to the grocery store, and nearly jumped out of his skin when he was greeting with a, “Fucking finally!” from the kitchen.

“Jesus,” he muttered, glaring as Tony came out of the kitchen.

“Where the fuck were you?” he demanded. “You weren’t home when I got back, no note, no nothing. I was worried , Rhodey. I thought you’d died .” 

“Drama queen,” Rhodey grumbled with a fond eye roll. “Chill out, Stark,” he added, shrugging off his jacket.

Tony huffed, striding back into the kitchen. “You laugh, but it only takes a minute to get kidnapped, Sugarlumps.” 

“Yeah? Sounds like you’re speaking from experience,” Rhodey said, following him down the hall but detouring past the kitchen to flop out on the couch. 

“Uhh… Only the one time. I don’t know, I think that’s kind of an outlier though. They weren’t very competent kidnappers. Like five stars for the actual snatch and grab, and 0.001 stars for managing to hold on to the target.” 

Rhodey shook his head; he couldn’t tell if Tony was kidding, but he had a funny feeling he wasn’t. “Your life is weird, man.” 

“No shit.” Tony reappeared in the kitchen doorway. “Hey, where were you actually though. This is supposed to be your free night.” 

Rhodey ignored the warm little thrill that lit up his belly at the thought that Tony knew his schedule. It didn’t actually mean anything, Tony’s brain was just… Like that. He may not always know what day it was, but he did know what was supposed to be happening at any given time. “At the library,” he told him honestly. “Last minute research project. I forgot all about it.” 

That was at least mostly true, but Tony still squinted at him suspiciously. “That doesn’t sound like you…”

He shrugged. “Happens to the best of us, right?” 

Rhodey felt like the fact that he was hiding something was written all over his face, but after another moment of suspicious staring, Tony shrugged too. “Yeah, guess so,” he acknowledged, sliding back into the kitchen. “Still, leave a note next time! I was expecting dinner.” 

Rhodey rolled his eyes, grinning up at the ceiling since Tony wasn’t there to see the besotted look on his face. “Ain’t your housewife, Tones.” 

“Luckily your sugar daddy’s got it covered,” Tony retorted, returning this time with two plates piled sky-high with Chinese food. He passed one over to Rhodey, who took it with an appreciative groan, before flopping onto the couch beside him, leaving almost no room between the two of them. (That didn’t mean anything either; Tony had never had a sense of personal space.) He held up a forkful of food, pointing it in Rhodey’s direction with a crooked grin that he couldn’t quite interpret. “To last minute research projects.” 

***

Rhodey wasn’t even surprised when he arrived the next afternoon -- after a detour through the grocery store -- to find his groundhog friend sleeping on the road again. “Dumbass,” he muttered under his breath, pretending he didn’t hear the fond note in his voice. “Okay Tony,” he announced in a louder voice, waiting for the groundhog to open his eyes. “Here’s the deal.” He slid his backpack off his shoulder as Tony watched him warily, reaching in and pulling out a fresh bunch of carrots. Tony’s nose wriggled in interest. “You get your dumb ass off the road, and in exchange you get a nice juicy bunch of carrots. Sound like a fair deal?” 

Tony made a couple of interested grunting noises that Rhodey chose to interpret as a yes. Snapping the first carrot into haphazard, uneven pieces, he put the first one right by Tony’s head, the next one a little farther, then a little farther until he had a trail of carrot pieces leading to an empty lot that had overgrown into something resembling a meadow. In the middle of said meadow, he dumped the rest of the carrots in a little pile. 

It took a few minutes, but Tony’s nose wiggling increased and slowly he rolled over onto his stomach and wandered over to the first carrot piece. Still eyeing Rhodey a little suspiciously, he bit into the vegetable, eating it quickly. Rhodey held his breath, but when nothing happened Tony wandered over to the next carrot and then the next one. Rhodey followed him from a few feet away as he slowly moved over to the field. When he found the pile of carrots in the middle, he made a startled squeaking noise that sounded like nothing more than pure delight, running over to the pile and shoving his face into them. It was adorable, and Rhodey beamed, feeling entirely too pleased with himself. 

“Phase One a success,” he crowed, whistling all the rest of the way to campus. 

For the next week, Rhodey showed up every single day with some kind of snack for Tony. He’d follow the same routine, luring him safely to the field where he’d leave a whole pile of treats waiting for him. It seemed to be working, and even if it was wreaking havoc with Rhodey’s schedule a little, he figured it was only for a few weeks. 

“Okay dude, what the hell?” Tony hissed as Rhodey slid into his typical seat beside him, late for the third time that week. “Why are you always late to labs now?”

Rhodey busied himself with pulling his notebook and pencils out of his bag. “Reasons,” he hedged, not meeting Tony’s gaze. Sure, he could probably just tell him the truth, but he could just imagine the jokes that Tony would level him with. Somehow it was easier to just… not. 

There was a moment of silence from Tony, long enough that Rhodey started to get a little nervous. Did Tony somehow know? Had he seen him with groundhog Tony, and now he was going to get made fun of extra hard for not even being man enough to own it? But then Tony made a sudden noise of understanding. 

“Did you meet someone?” he demanded, a note of delight in his voice. “What’s her name? Ohhhh. What’s his name?”

Rhodey swallowed hard, going full dumbass in the face of Tony’s sudden interest, and his easy acceptance of the idea that Rhodey had a secret boyfriend. “His name is Tony?” he offered, before he realized how that sounded and his eyes went wide. “Fuck! I mean — not you. I mean, not not you, you’re very attractive, but…” 

He trailed off hopelessly, wanting to bury his face in his arms but feeling like that would make him even more pathetic. Tony was watching him with a strange glint in his eyes, but before he could say anything there was a throat clearing from the front of the room. 

“Mr. Stark, Mr. Rhodes. Unless you would like to teach the class yourselves…?”

Tony opened his mouth like he was going to offer to do exactly that, but Rhodey gave him a swift kick in the ankle first. He rolled his eyes but relented and didn’t bring the subject up again. 

***

It was on the second week that Rhodey realized he may have created a problem for himself. He and Tony Jr. had developed something of a… Working relationship. The groundhog seemed to know him now, had gone from perking up at the sound of Rhodey’s footsteps to actively waiting for him at the same time every day. The problem was, he was waiting for him in the road. And Rhodey had been so sure that his plan would work that he hadn’t bothered to think of an alternative. The luring him away part was working like a treat, but he had no idea how to get Tony Jr. to start waiting for him literally anywhere else. 

He had kept up with his routine in the meantime, hoping that maybe Tony Jr. would suddenly clue in and start waiting for him on the sidewalk instead. Which is why he was there on Friday, when the car full of rowdy, probably newly-licensed teenagers came flying down the road. 

He had been a few feet away, grinning when Tony sat up on his hand legs to ‘greet’ him, nose wiggling rapidly in anticipation of whatever the snack of the day might be. He heard the car before he could see it and reacted on instinct, racing to close the distance between he and Tony -- who, amazingly, didn’t run further into the road -- and snatching him up just in time. He lost his balance in the process, rolling to the far side of the sidewalk and ending up lying on his back in the grass, a very bewildered groundhog nestled against his chest as the oblivious car flew by. 

For a minute, Rhodey tensed. He and Tony may have had something of a rapport, but he also knew that groundhogs could be vicious little fuckers, even beyond being a wild animal. He was fully expecting a bite to his arms or chest, but after a moment Tony wiggled and yawned, stretching out on his chest like a damn cat, before shifting enough to nose at Rhodey’s backpack, squashed uncomfortably beneath him. Rhodey let his head roll back, staring up at the sky before he sighed. 

“Fuck it,” he decided. “Let’s go home.”

Rhodey would never say it out loud, but there were times when Tony -- the human one -- being the heir to the Stark empire worked in their favour. For example, he was pretty sure he had Maria Stark to thank for the fact that, when they’d started out looking at dinky, one-bedroom apartments, there had ‘suddenly’ been a nice, two-bedroom-plus-office available in their price range. Or how it was Tony’s last name that had given him unfettered, private access to one of the MIT labs, letting Rhodey claim that apartment office for himself. 

Or for Tony Jr, as the case now seemed to be. 

It had been surprisingly easy to get Tony Jr. set up in there. He’d built him a little cardboard box tunnel system, piled some hay and alfalfa in the corner, brought in a little kiddie pool and then some bunny toys he’d found at the pet store, because he figured a groundhog was still a rodent, right? He’d been worried that there wouldn’t be enough stimulation for him, but Tony Jr. had delved right into everything, and definitely seemed happy enough. 

So now he had a groundhog secretly living in their No Pets Allowed apartment with Tony carrying on none the wiser. What even was his life sometimes? 

***

Rhodey slipped out of the office after refreshing all of Tony Jr.’s supplies, and nearly jumped out of his skin when he found Tony waiting for him at the end of the hallway. “Jesus Christ, man,” he gasped, keeping an ear out for any strange, groundhog-related noises that Tony might be able to hear. “Don’t do that.” 

“Okay, twitchy,” Tony replied with an arched eyebrow. “What, were you watching weird porn in there or something?

“No!”

“Cause you know if you find weird porn you gotta share. That’s the rule, Rhodes.” Tony nodded like he’d made some kind of actual point, and Rhodey rolled his eyes. 

“I will keep that in mind. What’re you doing sneaking around like some kind of troll?” 

“I wasn’t sneaking! I was looking for you. Because I wanted to know what the fuck this is.” He hefted up the full cantaloupe that Rhodey had been storing in the fridge, lifting it up above his head.

“It’s a cantaloupe, Tones.” Rhodey didn’t hide the way he was laughing at him as he pushed past Tony, moving to flop down on the couch in front of the television. “How do you not know that?” 

Tony followed him, still cradling the melon in question and peering down at it speculatively. “I don’t know, I’ve only ever seen it cut up in fruit cocktail. I didn’t know it looked like this.” He frowned, lips pursing in that adorable little pout that Rhodey found absolutely irresistible. “It kind of looks like a brain.” He grinned then, holding it up against his forehead and taking wide, staggering steps toward Rhodey. “Yarrrrrrgh,” he groaned in what Rhodey was pretty sure was supposed to be his best impression of a zombie. “You’re going to eat my braiiiiiiiiins.” 

Rhodey blinked back at him, trying very hard not to laugh. “See, now I’m just confused. Are you the zombie, or the zombie victim?” 

Tony stuck his tongue out at him. “Spoilsport,” he grumbled, setting the cantaloupe down on the table and sprawling out beside Rhodey instead. “But really, why do we have a cantaloupe in the fridge? I’ve known you for three years, Rhodeybear. I’ve never once seen you eat cantaloupe… Oh shit!” He sat up, a manic gleam in his eyes. “Is it for your new boooooyfriend?” 

He dragged the word out like a 12-year-old girl at a slumber party, and Rhodey huffed, squirming a little. The only boyfriend he wanted was Tony himself, but it wasn’t like he could just say that. “Shut up, Tones,” he grumbled instead, turning on the television and missing the little frown that crossed over Tony’s features. 

***

Rhodey had heard about skunks, and raccoons, and even foxes being kept as pets before, but never groundhogs. As it turned out, there was apparently a reason for this. 

Tony Jr. liked him well enough. He perked up as soon as Rhodey stepped into the room, nose twitching in a way that was the cutest thing that Rhodey had ever witnessed, outside of Human Tony’s attempts at waking up before eight am. He’d started rushing Rhodey at the door, nosing at his pockets for whatever treats he’d brought him, and if Rhodey sat on the floor with him for a bit, Tony Jr. would snuffle around him before snuggling in with his back along the lengths of Rhodey’s thighs, sometimes munching on a snack he’d dragged over, sometimes just drifting off to sleep with soft little snores. He was adorable.

But he was also a destructive little fucker. And Rhodey hadn’t even known that groundhogs made sounds before, but he was loud. There had been a few times where he’d had to fake a sudden coughing fit while watching TV with Tony, so he wouldn’t hear Tony Jr. skittering around over the floor, doing whatever it was he did to entertain himself. On one particularly memorable night, Rhodey had picked up the phone while Tony was in the kitchen and proceeded to hold a very loud, very fake fifteen-minute conversation. He’d hastily mouthed to Tony that it was “a guy from his lab” and then, feeling incredibly stupid, pretended not to notice the way that Tony’s scowl grew deeper and deeper as his TV watching was interrupted. 

Unfortunately, whatever Tony’s suspicions were, Rhodey didn’t manage to do much to assuage them over the next few weeks. It was a few days later that Rhodey slipped out of the office, locking the door behind him (just in case) only to turn around to find Tony leaning against his bedroom door, watching him with an expression somewhere between suspicious and confused. 

“You don’t usually lock that, do you?” 

His tone sounded more curious than upset, but Rhodey felt himself breaking out into a sweat anyway. “Uhh. I have… Gifts in there. For… People.” 

Tony’s expression shifted, going blank. “People,” he repeated, clearly disbelieving. 

Rhodey winced, but if living with Tony had taught him anything, it was to dig in his heels. According to Tony, show enough confidence and you could get away with anything. (Funny how that always seemed to work out so much better for Tony than it ever did for Rhodey.) 

“People,” he repeated anyway, as confidently as he could manage. “For… Christmas.” 

Tony’s eyebrows arched. “Wooow,” he drawled. “The first week of October. Look at you go, Rhodes.” 

It was probably a sign of just how far gone he was for the other man that Rhodey recognized the exact tone of Tony’s voice, the ‘hurt but trying to mask it with sarcasm’ edge that he usually only reserved for conversations with his father. Rhodey wasn’t sure what about his dumbass behaviour would cause Tony that much pain, but he hated being responsible for it with every fibre of his being. For a minute he almost caved and confessed everything then and there. But while he was working out where to even begin, Tony just sighed and shook his head. 

“Sorry,” he told him, like Tony had absolutely anything to apologize for when Rhodey was secretly hiding a groundhog in their apartment. “I’m just having a day. I’ve gotta run though. I’ve got a meeting with the engineering department -- apparently they don’t know if I’m making use of my excess of lab time responsibly.” He waggled his eyebrows and grinned, back to being Rhodey’s Tony, and the moment passed. 

It was a couple weeks after that that Rhodey, alone in the apartment, had gone in to check on Tony Jr. only to find him happily munching on one of Tony’s spare EuroAV cables. 

“Oh shit,” Rhodey yelped, lunging toward him because he was pretty sure there was no way that was part of a healthy, balanced, groundhog diet. He was starting to wonder if his groundhog was part cat though, because the second he saw Rhodey coming his eyes went wide and he started to back under the chair in the corner, dragging the wire along behind him. 

What followed was a truly embarrassing twenty-minute wrestling match in which Tony Jr. got the better of him many, many times. Rhodey’d had no idea that groundhogs could be so fast. Or so crafty. 

Eventually he’d emerged victorious -- or as victorious as he could consider himself when he was flushed and sweating and was going to have to buy Tony a new EuroAV cable -- and locked the cable’s remains away in the cupboard while Tony Jr. went to sulk in the corner. He went back out for some water and very nearly screamed when he came across Tony, standing there and staring at the door. 

“Tony!” he yelped instead, resisting the urge to grab at his heart as he narrowly avoided a heart attack. “Jesus Christ, man. What are you doing here? I thought you had class.” 

Tony shrugged. “Dr. Campbell cancelled.” He paused a moment, considering. “I heard noises,” he told him, looking Rhodey up and down. Rhodey followed his gaze and fought back a wince when he saw how rumpled his shirt was, and how a couple buttons had popped off, letting bits of chest peek through the fabric. “Everything… Alright?” 

“Oh yeah,” Rhodey said airily, internally panicking. “Just… Physics problems. You know how it is.” 

Tony stared back at him, unimpressed, but before he could speak Tony Jr. decided to wreak havoc with something, a large crashing noise echoing from the room behind him. Rhodey tried to keep his expression from revealing anything and Tony’s face fell, whatever he was thinking left unsaid. 

He stayed suspiciously quiet the rest of the evening, stuck in his head, and Rhodey tried to push down the guilty feeling pooling in his stomach. He ordered in the barbeque ribs that Tony liked for dinner, hoping to make it up to him a little, and Tony at least joined him to eat, the two of them camping out in front of the television. 

There was an old Star Trek rerun playing, and they watched in relative silence until halfway through the episode when Tony, apparently, just couldn’t stand it anymore. 

“I don’t understand why you won’t just tell me his name!” he burst out. 

Rhodey startled, so caught off guard that for a moment he couldn’t even parse what Tony was talking about. “Who??” 

This seemed to bother Tony even more; he huffed and folded his arms over his chest. “Your boyfriend! The ‘guy from your lab’ that you’ve been seeing. The dude you were fooling around with in the office earlier. Honestly, Rhodes, we’re supposed to be best friends. It’s getting a little weird that you haven’t even introduced us.” 

“Oh. Uh…” Taken aback, Rhodey scrambled for any kind of explanation. “It’s not… I mean… There’s not really any introductions to make. It’s nothing, really. It’s not… Like that.” 

Tony stared back at him for a long moment, squirming like he wanted to say something else, but all he did was lean back into the couch cushions again, arms still folded across his chest. “Right. Okay.” 

Rhodey didn’t know why Tony would be so invested in meeting his supposed hookup, even if he actually had one, but bringing it up didn’t seem like that best plan either. He wanted to get Tony as far away from subjects that could circle back to the groundhog residing in their apartment as possible. 

The thing was, Rhodey was a mission oriented kind of person. He could compartmentalize, focus on one thing at a time. And he became All. About. The groundhog. (Because, if he was truly honest with himself, focusing on Tony Jr. meant he didn’t have to think about how desperately in love with Tony he was, how his feelings were only getting stronger every day despite knowing there was no chance in hell of them being reciprocated.) So it was easy to put it aside when Tony started acting… Quirkier than usual, to tell himself that it was nothing, just Tony going through a phase. 

He started to worry a little, when on the nights that it was Tony’s turn to cook, he started making (or ordering) food for one. The first time he figured was a one off -- he’d had a late appointment with one of his profs, and then a meeting with a project group, so he’d given Tony a heads up that he might not be back until late. He probably just hadn’t known when to expect him. And Tony’d never been great at figuring out portion sizes anyway, always cooking either far too much or not nearly enough. It wasn’t a big deal; Tony always bought too many groceries too (although Rhodey had a feeling that was slightly less accidental), so it wasn’t too difficult for him to scrounge up a late meal for himself. 

But then it happened again. And again. And again after that. 

After the fourth time in a week, Rhodey was feeling panicked. Maybe Tony had heard the scratching or the little squeaking noises that Tony Jr. made sometimes, and thought they had rats or squirrels or something. Maybe he was trying to avoid leftovers, so he didn’t encourage them. He was hesitant about asking Tony about it; if that was what he thought, he wasn’t sure it was the best idea to draw further attention to it, in case Tony started to wonder why those noises only ever seemed to come from Rhodey’s suddenly locked office or something. Rhodey never been one for avoiding, though, and he couldn’t fix it if he didn’t know what was happening.

But when he finally asked him about the lack of dinner, mentioning it as casually as he could manage, Tony just gave the wall over Rhodey’s shoulder a very pointed look. “Oh sorry,” he told him, a forced, off-hand tone to his voice. “I just didn’t know if you’d be around to have dinner here. You know, with your active social life.” 

“Uh…” Rhodey scratched at the back of his head; Tony clearly had his knickers in a twist over something, but he was fucked if he knew what. He hadn’t mentioned the groundhog at least, so he probably hadn’t found that out. Maybe he’d had another hiccup with the robot he’d been working on for the last few months. “Sure man. Active social life, right.” He considered asking, but honestly the last few weeks had him exhausted and if it was anything serious, he knew Tony would end up telling him eventually. He wasn’t great at keeping things to himself. 

And sure enough, a couple days later, Tony seemed more or less back to himself. He’d locked himself in his room for all of Friday night, while Rhodey had holed up in the office with Tony Jr., blasting Star Wars at high volume as his rodent friend tore around the room, chasing the tennis ball that Rhodey had picked up for him. 

Presumably Tony had solved whatever coding issue had had him all wound up in the meantime, because when Rhodey got up on Saturday morning, he met him with a triple batch of pancakes (only a few of them burned) and a sheepish smile. They didn’t talk about it -- they never did -- but Tony made a point of being extra nice, letting Rhodey take the syrup first and grabbing him the juice when he moved to get it from the fridge. Rhodey just beamed back at him and some of the guilt evaporated from Tony’s face. 

They talked about nothing for awhile, just normal, mindless Saturday morning stuff until Tony cleared his throat and shifted a little. Rhodey arched an eyebrow, watching him expectantly. 

“Uh, you know… I heard you watching Star Wars last night. We could all watch a few movies together, if you wanted? I’ve had my shots, Rhodey, I promise.” 

Rhodey felt his eyes go wide, knew that panic was written all over his face. His shots? Was Tony talking about rabies? Did he know? “I…” He croaked out the word, trying to figure out what to say next, but almost immediately Tony seemed to reconsider, his face falling a little. 

“Unless you guys are like… Doing stuff. You know, while the movie, and… Okay, never mind.” He cleared his throat again, awkward now, and took his empty plate to dump in the sink. 

Rhodey blinked at him, head spinning from the whirlwind that had just occurred. “Who’s we?” He was pretty sure they were talking about two completely different things.

Tony just rolled his eyes. “Haha,” he drawled, “You’re hilarious.”

And before Rhodey could tell him that he hadn’t actually been joking, Tony was heading back down the hall for his bedroom and leaving him even more confused in his wake.  

***

They continued on like this, Tony running hot and cold -- but definitely veering into cold territory more often than not -- as Rhodey threw himself harder into caring for Tony Jr. in turn. Mostly that went okay, but Tony Jr. would go through phases where he was just the worst (not, Rhodey supposed, unlike his namesake). Which was how he ended up spilling an entire can of soda on himself one evening when Rhodey was just trying to hang out and watch a movie with him. Rhodey sighed hard, staring back at Tony Jr. as he blinked up at him with the sugary drink dripping from his snout, startled into stillness. 

“Come on, man,” Rhodey protested. “You’re not helping me out here at all.”  

Tony Jr. just made a soft little chuck-chuck sound, something that Rhodey thought sounded almost apologetic, and he couldn’t help grinning a little. 

“Alright, you twerp,” he sighed, picking him up. Tony was at the lab again, so Rhodey didn’t hesitate to take him into the bathroom. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” 

Tony Jr. waited patiently as Rhodey filled the tub, checking to make sure the water wasn’t too hot or too cold. He was a little nervous putting Tony Jr. in the tub, in case he lost his shit entirely and went feral, but he actually seemed to enjoy it, making happy little chittering noises and wriggling around as he settled into the warm water. Rhodey hadn’t wanted to add soap, worried it would disrupt a groundhog’s delicate little ph balance or something, but rinsing him off with fresh water seemed to do the trick just as well. Tony Jr. splashed around happily, and Rhodey found the entire experience surprisingly pleasant, laughing and talking away to the little guy as he got him all clean. 

He hadn’t heard the front door opening, too distracted with what he was doing, but he definitely heard the sharp, sudden knock on the bathroom door. Tony Jr. chirped but before Rhodey could respond, Tony was flinging the door wide open. 

“Okay asshole,” he announced without preamble. “I get that you’ve found the love of your life, and that he’s a million times better than me, and you’re a week away from leaving me forever because you’d never fall for me, but this is still a communal space and I would appreciate it if I could shower in a space that doesn’t contain a stranger’s come.” 

And then, as Rhodey was still trying to process what the fuck had just happened, Tony stopped and looked around the bathroom. Breathing hard, he took in Rhodey, crouched shirtless on the bathmat, and the full bathtub containing Tony Jr. 

“This… Is not what I was expecting,” he admitted. “Is that a groundhog?” 

“Yes it is,” Rhodey replied without hesitation. “But I’m a lot more interested in what the fuck you just said.”

“Oh, uh…” Tony was flustered now, all his bravado gone, and he edged toward the doorway. “I wasn’t, I mean. I didn’t… I wasn’t saying anything,” Tony finally managed to mumble out. “Just… Long day.” 

“Yeah, I can tell,” Rhodey told him dryly. And then, because there was no way he was letting it go at that, “What was that about me being a week away from leaving forever?” 

Tony whined under his breath. “Do we have to do this now?” he grumbled, eyes dropping back to the groundhog, still splashing around in the bathtub. “You seem… Busy.” 

And true, Rhodey probably had a lot to be embarrassed about here too. But Tony was shifting side to side in that way that meant he was feeling especially awkward, and so Rhodey called his bluff. 

“You explain what on earth you’re talking about,” he told him, folding his arms across his chest. “And I’ll explain, uh… This.” 

Tony huffed again, unconsciously mirroring Rhodey as he crossed his own arms. Hunching his shoulders up around his ears, he settled his gaze somewhere above Rhodey’s head. “I just… You’ve been so busy lately, with your new guy or whatever. And he’s here all the time, and I hear you laughing and you sound like you’re having such a great time and it's not like jealous, I’m just -- okay, I am jealous. I fucking love you, you asshole. And I’ve missed you the past few weeks, and I never see you, and I know we’ve both dated before but you won’t even tell me about this guy, and… I don’t know. It just felt like this time it was maybe something more serious. And I know it’s not like you were ever going to get that kind of serious with me but I just… I’m not ready to lose you yet.” 

Rhodey blinked at him, feeling a little like he was going to pass out. 

And the rest of what Tony had said caught up to him. “My guy?” he repeated, wondering what on earth Tony meant. And then Tony Jr. splashed the water, catching Rhodey’s attention. He looked over at him, back at Tony, over to Tony Jr. again, and his eyes went. “Oh,” he breathed, catching on. “Oh.”

And then he couldn’t help it -- he started to laugh. 

“Okay, seriously?” Tony burst out, staring incredulously at Rhodey, apparently over his inability to look directly at him. “Seriously ?” He grabbed a spare roll of toilet paper, throwing it at the other man who was bent in half on the bathmat, laughing so hard there were tears in his eyes. Tony Jr. chittered angrily at him. “I can’t believe I even like you. I just confessed my love and you’re fucking laughing at me.” He threw another roll of toilet paper at him for good measure. “You’re such an asshole.” 

Rhodey shook his head, still choking on his laughter. “I’m not… I’m not laughing at you.” He cleared his throat, beaming up at him. “You’re in love with me?” 

“I’m…” Tony shook his head, sliding back into a mumble. “Don’t make fun of me, man.” 

“I’m not,” Rhodey promised, getting to his feet and moving toward him. “I swear I’m not. Tony, the ‘guy’ I’ve been seeing? Is the fucking groundhog.” 

Tony wrinkled his nose, looking adorably confused. “What?” 

Rhodey just sighed. “I’m saying, I don’t have a boyfriend, doofus. You’re the only guy in my life. And, uh…” He stepped closer still, catching Tony’s hands to unfold them from his chest. “I’d kind of like it to stay that way.” 

Tony squirmed a little, a pleased smile crossing his features. “You would?” 

“Yep.” He nodded, running his thumb over Tony’s palm. “We seem to suck at the communication thing, so let me be very clear here. I’ve been embarrassingly in love with you for an embarrassingly long time. Forget asking you out. Tony, I want you to be my boyfriend. Are we on the same page?” 

Tony gave an adorable little giggle, and then he was standing on tiptoes, giving Rhodey a soft, sweet kiss on the lips. Rhodey let him, for a moment, and then he was looping an arm around Tony’s waist, pulling him up tight against his bare chest and kissing him properly. Tony made a startled little sound before he melted into it, giving just as good as he got. 

They kept kissing until there was another splash behind them, Tony Jr. chittering in annoyance at being ignored. 

“Ah, right.” Still grinning like a goofball, Tony leaned back and arched his eyebrows at Rhodey. “I think you said something about an explanation for the groundhog in our bathtub?” 

“Yup,” Rhodey agreed, stepping away first to take a towel and scoop Tony Jr. out of the tub. Tony watched in bemusement as the groundhog snuggled right into Rhodey, the other man slipping past him to take him back to office. “Just let get him resettled first. I don’t want Tony Jr. to catch a cold.” 

Tony nodded in understanding, then frowned as he watched Rhodey carry him down the hall. “Wait,” he called after him. “Tony Jr.? Rhodes, did you name your groundhog after me??”

@ironhusbandsbigbang

[chillassimagines]

Behind These Doors - Landon Kirby Smut

(REQUESTED)

Watching Landon fly with his wings in full fire mode was absolutely entrancing. Landon obviously wasn’t a very graceful human, but he looked absolutely flawless as a Phoenix. Watching him learn how to control it was the only thing reminding you that he was still your little dork, because when he wasn’t gliding across the sky, he was knocking into trees and even falling back down to earth.

“Babe, why don’t we give this a break for today. I don’t know how many more times I’m able to watch you “fall from grace” as you call it.” You called up to him. He sighed and slowly came back down to earth on both feet in one piece. You walked up to him as his flames went up into dust.

“No matter how many times I fall, when I get back up into the air, I feel invincible.” You smiled and placed your hand at the nape of his neck, fiddling with his curls.

“You’re so cute. Remember Landon, please don’t try practicing without someone here, you are still very breakable.” You winced inwardly as you remembered when he broke his nose. It was all sorts of messed up looking and he was in a lot of pain. He asked you to spell the pain away, but no way were you going to break his nose back in place. So, he had MG break his neck so he would die and come back with a perfectly normal nose. You preferred not to go through a similar situation again though.

“Leave me alone, super wolf healer.” He laughed as he put his forehead to yours. You joined in with his contagious grin.

“My bark is as equally strong as my bite, so you’re best off to listen.” You stated seriously. He cocked an eyebrow up.

“Oh really now?” Those words were fighting words. Landon knew as well as you that when those exact words were spoken in that tone with that face...you got extra hot.

“Can you guys chill that out? I’m getting uncomfortable.” Lizzie spoke up from her lawn chair a few feet away. Lizzie was a good copilot for Landon, with her magic she’d held his take offs and his come downs. She just wasn’t always available, so her time was precious.

“Geez, uh, I’m sorry Lizzie. I didn’t mean to um, make that, uh-“

“Calm down little grizzly head,” Lizzie rose from her chair and patted Landon’s head of curls as she walked past. “I’ll see you guys later!” She called over her shoulder walking away. Landon’s cheeks were pink, but you were on fire.

“I really am the worst at timing things.” He whispered as he watched her walk off. You extended your claws and ran them lightly down Landon’s neck, causing him to shiver at the sensation.

“You really, really are.” You rasped as you felt your wolf coming over you. Landon’s eyes widened slightly.

“You know, I don’t know when I’ll get over those.” He pointed at your eyes and you were sure they were shining bright yellow.

“Landon, you know you can’t just say that!” You grumbled as you felt your wolf and hormones mixing up a storm. Landon cupped both sides of your face.

“Hey, hey, calm down, breathe-“

“You need to do something.” You attempted to get your breathing under control.

“O-Okay, let’s just get back to my room.” He grabbed your hand and started walking back to the school. You knew that would take way too long.

“Fly, goddammit.” You pulled him to your chest and wrapped your arms around his waist. He nodded and spread his fiery wings. You only prayed he wouldn’t fall or drop you.

~

“Take it all off.” Landon mumbled as he closed the door to his room and locked it. On the way over your wolf had some fun taunting Landon. With touches, words, and things that had him matching your anxious energy. You followed his order with no hesitation.

“Landon.” You whispered as he gripped your waist harshly when you only were able to strip down to your underwear. Couldn’t finish the job if he wouldn’t let you go.

“I change my mind, get on the bed.” He then captured your top lip in a dirty kiss before releasing you. When you had first had sex with Landon it was a sweet awkward. You both knew what you wanted to do, but the execution was far from the dream. However, as time went on you both learned from each other, gained knowledge from outside sources (Lizzie and Rafael), and Landon opened himself up when you were intimate. Few things actually phased him when he was in this element.

And it was hot.

You sat on the bed and backed up onto the middle as Landon removed his shirt. You were damn near butt naked, but you didn’t care about the fairness, because you were still on fire. He moved to hover over you before pressing his lips to yours again. You held onto his soft curls as you made out. One hand moved to your side and moved to cup your breast. It made you want to howl, because the wolf in you was fueling this desire.

“Landon, please.” You broke from his kisses, but his lips soon found the valley between your breasts. His lips felt cold against your raging hot body and it was exhilarating. He traveled lower to the hem of your pink panties and you knew what he was up to. “Don’t tease.” You begged, raising your hips up to his face. He smiled softly and looked up at you.

“Only because you said please.” With his thumb he gathered your panties to the side and brought his mouth to your core.

“Yes! Landon!” This was his favorite move. He liked the look of you still in your underwear while he made you come undone. You had no idea if what was an actual kink, but he treated it like one. It turned him on to no end for unknown reasons. “God, you’re so good at this it’s, no fair.” You whimpered our your two last words.

His response was him humming against your beating clit. Your thighs were slowly closing in on his head, and your hands buried in his forest of curls made sure that he wouldn’t be going anywhere.

“I’m so close!” You rasped out again, feeling your wolfish urges becoming sated slowly. Your stomach was in so many knots for this boy and his mouth.

“Cum, Y/N.” He managed to break away briefly before diving back in to finish you off. You raised your wrist to your mouth and bit down as you came, fighting from hollering. You rocked your hips slowly into his face as you came down.

“Everytime, I dont know how you do it.” You breathed out in satisfaction as he rose to his knees. You readied yourself for him to pull down his bottoms by hooking your legs around his waist, waiting for him to pull them down and enter you. It was almost routine, and you had not one problem with it. At you readying yourself for the next position, Landon seemed to not be with it.

“We’re gonna do something different, babe.” You raised your brows and Landon flipped you over like a sack of potatoes. He pushed your thighs forward, making your ass rise in the air. He ran his hands up your back, applying pressure in his thumbs for a brief massage. Your face was in fact pressed to the bed and your ass was up. You were in shock at this turn of events you couldn’t bring yourself to say much.

“What are you doing?” Seemed like a reasonable question, right? Apparently you were wrong.

“Stay put and find out.” Your eyes widened like saucers. Landon was never outwardly dominant like this and it had your tummy doing flips. His hands placed themselves on your ass cheeks and began massaging them slowly. His thumbs would slowly inch towards your slit at every motion and the anticipation was killing you.

You were so glad he didn’t have súper hearing, at least not yet, because your heart was like a rock concert right now.

“Different’s good right? Exciting. Behind these doors I’m usually different for you in this situation. Behind these doors you make me feel just as invincible as flying. Free...like I can do anything. Like I can make you come apart while I do anything.” Those words reignited your flame and you knew he sensed it.

“I-I’m ready to find out.” The room fell into silence when you said that. It didn’t last for long before you filled it with your moans again. Landon pulled your panties to the side once more and ran two fingers down your slit. “Landon, I’m going to explode.” You pleaded.

“I know.” He answered shortly before rubbing your clit.

“Ahh, shit.” You whimpered, grinding your ass back into his rotating fingers. You felt his other hand release your panties leaving his fingers trapped inside of them as he continued pleasuring you. You heard the ripping of plastic and you mentally cursed yourself for not even thinking of a condom.

“Tell me if it gets uncomfortable.” He leaned over your back moments later, his naked chest pressing into your skin. You couldn’t barely comprehend what he said while you were lost in the pleasure. But the head of his member slipping inside of you sure woke you up.

“Landon!” You cried, muffling your voice in a pillow. He thrusted into you, not letting up on your clit. You felt yourself repeatedly clench around him and it matched up with his grunts and moans he muffled against your back. “Faster, please.” You groaned as he angled his hips in an upward motion, hitting you exactly where you needed him. He sped up at your request and feeling the sensation of his breath along your back gave your heightened senses a push.

“You close? Because, fuck I’m so close.” He asked before pressing a kiss to your skin. You angled your hips just right to rock back into him while moaning out. “I’ll take that as a “hell yes, Landon”.” You smiled and moaned once more as you clenched around him so tightly it made his thrusting pause. You felt his thighs vibrate against your ass and it was the most empowering feeling ever. “Y/N, relax for me, I can barely move.” He pulled his fingers away from your clit and moved the panties even further out of his way.

“Sorry baby.” You whispered and took a deep breath, trying to relax yourself. It was quite hard to do with a fully erect man inside of you.

“No, no, no, don’t be sorry.” He whispered and began pressing kisses everywhere on your back as you calmed down. He was able to slowly begin thrusting inside of you at a slow pace and you felt consumed by it.

“I’m there, I’m there, Landon.” You whimpered once more letting your head comfortably press into the pillows as you basked in your orgasm.

“Good, good.” He cooed before he gave you a particularly sharp thrust. You gasped out as you felt the pressure of his release against your walls. He pulled out and moved from on top of you to stand and throw away the condom. His pants hung low on his waist as he made his way back to your collapsed body. He laid next to you and moved your hair out of your face.

“You’re so pretty.” You both said at the same time. Landon raised an eyebrow and you bursted into laughter.

“You are something else, Y/N.” You scooted closer into his chest and moved his hand to rest on your bare bottom.

“You are someone else sometimes, Landon. I love it just like I love you.”

[sincerelyreidburke]

won’t you lay me down

Hi, I wrote some CCU hurt/comfort fluff. I know that sounds like an oxymoron, but bear with me.

In which: Derek has a bad mental health day. Will has his back.

Also on ao3!

///

Will doesn’t see the text at first.

It’s not really his fault. Monday mornings are busy. After morning practice at 6:30 (Will likes that better than evening practice, and as captain he’s tried to keep the practice schedule relatively consistent), he has a meeting with Hall and Murray for thirty minutes while the rest of the team filters out to their respective morning activities and routines. It’s the last he sees of Derek until the afternoon, every Monday— because after Will’s meeting with the coaches, he’s straight off to his internship in Boston for the rest of the morning, then comes back to campus for his 2:30 CS 381 class.

So when the text comes in, he’s mid-transit from Boston to Samwell, sitting in traffic on 128. As a general rule, he doesn’t check his phone while driving. Also, why the fuck is there so much traffic in the middle of the day on a Monday.

He doesn’t understand Massachusetts drivers.

Anyway. It’s when he gets back to campus that he sees it, sitting in his lockscreen over the wallpaper of him and Derek.

18m ago

Derek: do u mind if i chill in the basement

Derek: can’t focus in my room, c is playing music

Oh. Will unlocks his phone, sitting in his student parking spot. He and Derek use each other’s rooms all the time, even outside of their constant sleeping-over in each other’s. Many a time has he returned from class, internship, or other obligation to find his boyfriend hanging out in the bungalow.

They have their own spaces in the Haus, but they do their fare share of, well. Sharing.

Sry just saw this , he sends back. Was drivung. Of cuorse you can use the basment

He looks at the text thread for a second, then sends a <3 after his message, and tucks his phone away again.

On to the next thing.

Class is sort of tedious today, but what’s worse than it is the actual trek back to the Haus from the compsci building, because it’s frigid outside, a chill that gets to his bones even in his winter jacket and the beanie he stole from Derek. In typical New England February fashion, it’s supposed to snow tonight, or at least that’s what he thinks he heard from someone at his internship this morning. He spent most of his shift working out a kink in his supervisor’s code, and he was lost in the numbers and symbols for hours.

He likes it. It’s satisfying to figure out a program.

When he reaches the Haus, finally , Whiskey and Ford are hanging out in the kitchen. He waves to them on his way by, then wonders if he should bake tonight. Maybe after his homework, he can make cookies. The pie he made this weekend is gone already, because all three of the freshmen were here yesterday, nothing he bakes lasts long in their presence.

Will heads straight downstairs, and the door to his room is closed; the lights inside look like they’re off. He eases it open, reaching for the light switch. Derek must have finished whatever he was doing.

Or— not.

Derek is here, and he can tell because he hears Dwayne Johnson singing. He freezes with his hand on the light-switch before he can turn it on, and steps all the way into the room instead, where he catches sight of him— or at least catches sight of what he knows is him, under several layers of cover.

Derek has burrowed himself into Will’s bed with his laptop, and he’s watching Moana , the light of the screen on his face the only source of any light in the room at all. He’s wearing Will’s Samwell hoodie, the good one with Poindexter and 24 and C on the sleeve, and its hood is pulled over his head, strings drawn to make his face look like a blue-lit mask poking out of it. He looks only half-invested in the movie, because he’s resting his face on his arm, scrunched up to the pillow.

Will’s stomach turns. Bedridden Derek in his stolen sweatshirt and Moana are a combination that can only mean one thing.

He closes the door, gently, behind himself. “Der?”

It appears that this is the first Derek actually notices that someone else has entered the room. Will hears the click of the space bar, and the Rock halts mid-chorus. “Oh,” comes Derek’s voice from his blanket cocoon, and it’s small and drawn, the opposite of his loud bravado. “Hey, babe.”

“Hi.” Will drops his backpack at the door, then goes directly to him, crouching on the steps that get him to the loft bed. “Hey,” he says, across the laptop. “Are you okay?”

Derek pauses. He purses his lips at his computer screen, then sighs and lowers it. “Ch’yeah,” he mumbles. “I’m alright.”

With the laptop closed, Will reaches for his face. He cups his stubbly cheek in one hand, runs his thumb across his cheekbone. Derek looks blank, drained. Will knows this demeanor well by now.

“No, you’re not,” he whispers. Without the light of the laptop, it’s nearly dark inside. The slivers of gray daylight from where Derek pulled the shade on the window are all that remain.

Derek breathes in like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. He nuzzles his face into Will’s pillow a little more.

“Der,” Will whispers. He kneels on the steps, pauses his thumb by Derek’s ear. “Gray day?”

Derek whimpers a little, like it pains him to admit it, but nods. “Yeah.”

Will keeps gentle. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks. “This morning?”

Derek bites his lip. “Didn’t feel it this morning.”

“Oh.” Will pauses. “When did it hit you?”

He closes his eyes. “When I got back to the Haus.”

Will frowns. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

Derek’s eyes are still closed. He shakes his head. “You couldn’tve known, babe.”

For a moment, the room is quiet. Will pushes Derek’s laptop aside a little. “What can I do?”

Derek takes his time, answering. Will is patient. He knows how to do this. He slides his hand into his curls under the hood; they’re matted, and they’ll be worse if he just lays in bed for the rest of the day. “You want to tie your hair?”

Derek takes a long breath.

“You don’t have to,” Will adds. “But if it’ll help you for later…”

“My scarf’s upstairs,” Derek mumbles, weakly, like upstairs is a continent away.

“It’s okay,” Will tells him. “I can get it, baby.”

Derek’s face contorts a little, like he’s about to cry, but he doesn’t; he just opens his eyes. His eye contact is distant, like he’s staring more into space than back at Will, but he’s trying, and Will knows that. “I love you,” he whispers, and then, “I don’t feel well.”

“I know,” Will hushes. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here.”

“I’m sorry,” Derek groans.

“Never be sorry,” Will says. “Ever.” He kisses his forehead, feather-light, and then tells him, “I love you too. And I’m gonna go get your scarf, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Derek winces again, like something hurts. He nods, though, slowly, and rests his cheek on the pillow again. Will pulls back to go, but God, it’s hard, because he knows how much Derek hates being alone when he feels like this, and he’s already been in here by himself for God knows how long—

Okay, he’ll only be gone a minute. But even so, he feels the need to fill that space. He climbs down to his bookshelf, reaches onto its center shelf between Derek’s poetry books, and grabs hold of his oldest friend.

“Here,” he whispers, bringing Cromwell up so Derek can see. “Do you want a friend?”

Derek eyes the plush lobster, and though he doesn’t look like he has an ounce of energy to smile, his eyes soften. “Yeah,” he mumbles. “Please.”

Will hands him over, and Derek engulfs the little red thing in his sea of blankets, resting him right under his nose. The visual would be cute, if Derek weren’t in such a bad spot. Will caresses his cheek again, then smooths the few curls that are poking out of the hood. “Be right back, baby,” he says. “Do you know where your scarf is?”

Derek pauses, then shakes his head.

“It’s alright,” Will assures him. “I’ll find it.”

This was hard, at first, being so new to this side of him, and not knowing how to help him. But they’ve been together for eight months, and Will knows Derek’s gray days by now, knows the tells for when he’s feeling down, knows a few remedies that help to ease the numbness.

He makes a beeline for Derek’s room upstairs as fast as his legs can carry him. The space itself is even evidence that Derek isn’t feeling himself; there are more clothes on the floor than usual, and the bed is unmade, and his desk looks like his notebook exploded. Will sifts through his dresser drawers, between Samwell shirts, pairs of gym shorts, random articles of Will’s own clothing that’ve been stolen, but there’s no sight of the green headscarf he wears sometimes to bed. He moves his search to the desk, and then to the actual bed, and he’s about to give up when he finds it tucked between the down comforter and the sheets.

Success. He heads back downstairs.

“Hey, Dex, is Nursey in your room?”

“Oh—” Will halts in the kitchen doorway. The question came from Ford; she’s still at the counter. “Yeah,” he replies, poking his head around the corner. Tango has now joined the kitchen gathering. “He’s just watching a movie.”

“Oh, cool.” Ford nods. “I just didn’t know if he was in the Haus. I thought I saw him go down there, like, two hours ago.”

“Yeah,” Will says, “he’s with me.”

Tango waves. “Hi, Dex!”

“Hey, Tango.” Will opens the basement stairs door.

Chowder knows this version of Derek as well as Will does, but the rest of the team doesn’t. It’s what’s buried under the chill, what he could never stand to let people know about himself.

Derek’s brain is awful to him sometimes.

Back in his room, he finally takes off his winter jacket and closes the door behind him, then climbs up the steps to his bed again. Derek is still snuggling with Cromwell, but his laptop has moved; he’s pushed it to the pouch adjacent to Will’s headboard where he keeps his phone, occasional book, and other random stuff while he sleeps.

Will unfolds the scarf. It’s silky smooth. “Gave up on Moana ?” he hums.

Derek rolls over and nods. Will kicks his sneakers off, then crawls onto the mattress, which squeaks a little under both their weight. He slides a hand under his back— Derek is very, very warm, but that’s the way he likes to be when he’s like this— and eases him up into a sitting position. “Sit up for me, babe?”

Derek moves with his touch, nice and easy, and when Will has him sitting up, he slots himself against his back, lets Derek lean on him. “You want me to talk?” he asks as he pulls the hood off his head. “Or do you like the quiet?”

Derek hums a little. “Talk. Please.”

“Okay.” Will combs through his curls, then pulls the scarf tight around them. He learned this on YouTube, after his third time hearing post-funk Derek lament that his depression was ruining his hair. “It’s supposed to snow,” he tells him. “Five inches.”

Derek groans. “Fuck that.”

“I know,” Will mumbles. “But if classes get cancelled, I’ll make cookies.”

“Mm.” Derek hums again, as Will pulls the knot at the back of his neck tight. “What kind?”

“Still deciding.” He hooks his arms around his neck, pulls him close, and kisses his cheek. “You can file a request, if you want.”

“Snickerdoodle.”

“Done.”

“Thank you.” Derek pauses. “For tying my hair.”

Will noses into his neck, drops a kiss there, and then moves back up to his face. “Of course, Der.” He turns him a little, cups his face in one hand. Derek still looks gray, and he looks, God, he looks so tired ; he always does when he’s like this, but it pains Will every time.

He wants to take every ounce of hurt away from him.

“What can I do?” he asks.

Derek takes a long breath while he thinks about it. His words, on these days, come slowly. “Um.” He nods to himself, like he’s thinking about it. “Do you have homework?”

Will shakes his head. “I have plenty of time to do it.”

“Okay.” Derek pauses, then, “Lay with me?”

“Yeah.” Will nods. “Ayuh. Of course.”

They wind up curled into the blanket pile, with Derek pressed tight against Will’s chest, a little further down the bed than him so he can tuck his face into his shoulder. Will presses a kiss to the top of his scarf, holds him as close as he can. He knows the pressure helps him, eases his brain a little. Cromwell rests on the pillow, somewhere near the both of them. He’s a little extra moral support.

“Thank you, Will,” Derek says, with an exhale, as he nuzzles into his chest.

“You’re welcome,” Will replies. “Always.”

“Mmf.” Derek wraps himself around him, arms and legs and all. His voice is muffled when he speaks again, but Will knows the words anywhere. “You and me.”

Will nods. “You and me.”

It’s a mantra and a promise. Hell or high water. Good days and gray ones.

“I’ve got you,” he tells him, and he’ll never let go.

[imaginaryelle]

Meta: Luminaries and Power in MDZS

Apparently I’m doing meta for the Untamed Winterfest “star” prompt (day 14) because I keep thinking about “rising stars” and “falling stars” and supernovas and the sun and guiding stars, which makes me think a lot (a lot a lot) about Wei Wuxian, and the Wens, and Jin Guangyao, and Lan Wangji.

Like, we have the Wens here, right?

And the Wens are basically the cautionary tale for the whole rest of the plot. “Do Not Covet Power” the story tells us over, and over and over, “Power Will Turn Against You,” but the Wens come (chronologically) first. They wear the sun, and the phoenix. They stand triumphant, the brightest star in the sky, and they start thinking that means they are the sun, the source from which all other power flows, the unkillable generator of life. And so the sun turns scorching—there are too many suns in the sky, shoot them down or all life will burn—and the rest of the world snuffs them out, one by one (until one single sun is left, excuse me while I cry over A-Yuan; okay, we’re good).

Pretty blatant, in-your-face cautionary tale for a whole generation, right? Maybe even two generations? “Hey, look, those people over there, they tried to gather up all the power and they died horribly, maybe we should not do that.” Except none of them learn anything. Anything. They still all think it’s about who’s right, completely ignoring the fact that they’re all operating under a “might makes right” mentality, the lot of them (Especially Jin Guangshaun, of course).

Wei Wuxian starts out as a rising star—the child who came from nothing, but he has so much talent and he shines so bright that no one can ignore him. Even when they hate him, they can’t look away. (He’s also pretty much the only cultivator who regularly talks to the everyday people of the world as if they’re equals, but that’s a whole other thing.) He freely gives power away when he gives Jiang Cheng his golden core. It doesn’t define him, it’s just a tool, which has been very useful but which he can do without.

Honestly, I think if Wen Chao hadn’t found him and dropped him in the Burial Mounds he would have found something else to do. He’d likely stay with Jiang Cheng (who would have to know about him not having a core, once he found Wei Wuxian basically half-dead in that town, I don’t think Wei Wuxian was originally planning to hide that part once it was finished), and still be part of the Jiang sect and consult on tactics and do work that you don’t have to be a cultivator to do (which is a lot, really). He’d still have all the competent-gentleman-skills: archery, riding, calligraphy, etiquette and math, as well as all the general knowledge he’s collected from a truly rarefied education. He can’t use a cultivator’s sword, and he’ll never attain immortality, but there are plenty of other cultivators whose sword skills and quest for a longer lifespan are suspect. Maybe he’d still go on night hunts. Maybe he’d write excellent training manuals or mentor Jiang-sect kids. Maybe he’d make lots of talismans and just wave that in everyone’s faces, idk, it’s really hard to say how talismans work in this universe. Point is, I think he would’ve made things work in a less drastic way than what he ended up with, because at the time the power didn’t matter to him.

But instead Wen Chao does find him and does drop him into the Burial Mound, and whatever happens there (I really, really want to know what happens there), he comes out of it with TOO MUCH power. Power no one has ever seen before. It’s the only way he can survive there. He hoards power for good reasons, for his own survival and (later) to ensure the survival of others, but he is absolutely biting off more than he can actually deal with, and it immediately starts fucking up his life. He’s a supernova in the making. That bottomless source of power not based on his own physical limits + the Tiger Seal + his apparently endless well of traumatic life events means that he is absolutely going to collapse in on himself at some point. He loses reputation, and standing, and then people. He is almost universally reviled, with multiple actions both correctly and falsely attributed to his name. He knows it’s happening—Who can tell me what I’m supposed to do now?—he’s lost every reason he had for hoarding the power in the first place, he’s having uncontrolled explosions of power where thousands of people die, and so he tries to give the power back by destroying the seal so no one can have that power, but power doesn’t work that way: it has to go somewhere, and it goes through him in an event that people are still talking about over a decade later.

And yet. Does anyone learn anything? “Hey, that seal seems like a super dangerous tool there, maybe it should … not be used ever again? Be destroyed? It made that guy incredibly unstable and then he exploded over the whole cultivation world, maybe we should… not?”

No, of course not. (Aside from Lan Wangji, the Nie sect and Wei Wuxian. Lan Wangji seems to have developed this knowledge early. Wei Wuxian learns the lesson; it goes hand-in-hand with his (novel) daydreams of leaving the life of a cultivator to be a farmer with Lan Wangji. I think Nie Mingjue knew it too, because the Nie sect has some themes going on with the damage power can do, but he didn’t get a chance to talk about it much. Nie Huaisang, in addition to Nie sect things, is very observant and doesn’t have strong ambition at all until he starts getting fucked with, so he has less to figure out on this front.)

Everyone else still thinks it was about the Wens, and “corruption” and that Wei Wuxian was just wrong, even though they were the ones you know… killing children and elderly people in a culture that supposedly values both quite highly. Power is just power, right? Nothing wrong with power, in fact, maybe we should expand that power even more, with a centralized system of control. Supervisor posts? No, no, these are watchtowers. They’re for your benefit too, I promise. Also blackmail, lets use lots of blackmail and some really deep dungeons, but it’s totally okay because it’s us doing it, right.

Jin Guanyao is Hou Yi, the archer who shot down the sun (that link again), and rose to become an imperial tyrant—whose cruelty led his wife to abandon him (I’ve read multiple versions of Hou Yi, but this one fits here) and cut short his quest for immortality. His whole life is about gathering power, and justifiably so given how aware he is of the precarious nature of his position for most of it. Anytime someone feels like it, they can cut him down with a single reference to his mother. It doesn’t matter what his talents are, or how clever or well-spoken he is. Everything he’s built up for himself can be taken away in an instant, because he’s the son of a prostitute and that means he doesn’t matter. This is not to say that he doesn’t deserve Nie Mingjue’s reprisal or Nie Huaisang’s revenge, of course. He absolutely does horrific, terrible things every step of the way, and for entirely selfish reasons. But he’s Wie Wuxian’s closest foil: here’s what happens when someone of merit, rather than bloodline, seeks power: they’re creative, and innovative, and oh boy are they going to shake the world. This is what happens when cruelty and manipulation take the place of love and affection in a child’s life: each perpetuates itself on a larger scale—I will kill even those closest to me vs. I will die to protect a stranger. This is how the quest for power plays out when the motivation is selfishness, rather than selflessness. In the end, both are inherently flawed, because the power itself is the root of the problem.

Unlike Wei Wuxian, Jin Guanyao holds onto his power until the very last second. Literally, any scrap, even just Lan Xichen’s affection for him. His fall is fast, and guttering—so fast that it’s over before most of the world even knows it’s started. He’s a meteorite, his origins worse than obscure, growing ever brighter in the sky until he crashes to earth, leaving devastation in his wake. And I mean that literally, the power-structure of the world is shattered by the dual events of his exposure and his death. It’s so completely broken that in their rush to consolidate power once more, the person all these leaders turn to is Lan Wangji, who just happens to be the most reputable guy still standing at the end.

So, let’s look at Hanguang-jun, the Light-Bearer.

Lan Wangji is the lodestar. He’s a constant that rarely, if ever, wavers in his convictions, and for the purpose of the plot he’s effectively the example of what an “ideal” cultivator should be (I know other people have written about LWJ and the Confucian ideal, especially @rustycol so I’m not going far into that here). He’s arguably the most successful character in the canon. He has both bloodline and merit working in his favor, and he’s pretty much the most respected cultivator in the world by the time he’s 35 (ages in this canon are a mess). He can disobey or even betray his clan and not be uprooted, which is a luxury literally no one else has (yes, he’s punished, yes, there are consequences, but he attacked 33 elders and didn’t get kicked out or killed! He’s still respected and part of the clan! Don’t tell me that’s not because he’s the clan leader’s bloodline—there are a lot of things that can be said about LWJ and his clan and morality but they’re for yet another post).

The protagonist thinks highly of him. The next generation looks up to him, pretty much universally. He is respected even by people who don’t like him, and has almost zero actual enemies (Su She isn’t even a luminary in this meta analogy, Su She is a dude with a lantern trying to blame the stars for the fact that he can’t fly). Lan Wangji is the guiding light that goes into dark places where chaos reigns and brings clarity, and calm, and (often unforgiving) justice. He doesn’t seek power, and he doesn’t hoard it. In the novel, the only prize he takes away from Jin Guanyao’s fall is the certain knowledge of Wei Wuxian’s love. He doesn’t want anything else, and that’s why he gets to walk off into the sunset with the love of his life and keep his peerless reputation, even in a culture as steeped in homophobia as the novel’s world. Obviously the drama has a different ending, but I think the point still stands: Lan Wangji is so well-respected and utterly reliable that I doubt anyone even thinks twice about offering him the position of Chief Cultivator. Who else could they choose, shocked and appalled as they are in Jun Guanyao’s wake, but the star that never moves no matter how the heavens turn?

It’s been a rough 15 years. Between Lan Wangji, Nie Huaisang and that last Wen child, maybe they’ll finally get that lesson about hoarding power to stick in a few more people’s minds. We can only hope.

[havenesa-sera-fina]

Hidden Marks [3: What are you Hiding?]

Summary: Wrapping his own arms around her shoulders, Namjoon pulled her in, resting his head on the crown of her head, his heart beating steadily, which Sera heard and smiled to herself. Even with his odd lengthy limbs, they fit together perfectly, "Sera, I'm falling in love with you, that I want to convince you not to go, but I trust you. I just want you to be happy, to never cry over us again. I can't promise you that if you choose to stay with us, everything will be rainbows and sunshine, but I promise you that we won't give up on you, on this relationship. We're not perfect like everyone thinks we are, we're not the perfect bunch of soulmates, we have problems as a group and individuals, secrets that we all keep, burdens that we try to carry on our own. Though we all have each other, to fall back on when things get brought, and that includes you now. We're soulmates, so if anything happens, don't be scared to tell us. 

(Poly BTS/OT7 x Reader/OC)

College Au / Soulmate Au

Disclaimer: Bts isn't my or any real life people (obviously.) Any other characters are my though. This is my story so do not republish this anywhere or I will report.

There maybe some triggers, but I will address them within the chapters.

Sources: Wattpad

Word count: 2281

Monday night I emailed my professors to let them know I wouldn't attend classes for Tuesday, and exhaustion finally caught up to me that night as I went to sleep, with several needles in my arm, an oxygen mask around my mouth, with the beeping of the monitor. I woke up like that Tuesday afternoon.

Groggily, I removed the annoying mask from my face and pushed my hair away from my face as I glared weakly at the open curtain, as the sunlight was the one to interrupt me from my sleep. The temptation to just knock down the beeping monitor next to me was strong, but I just shifted in the bed, my sore muscles tensed slightly when I shifted to my side a bit. A groan escaped my mouth, wanting to fall back to sleep, but I couldn't.

Reaching for my phone in my bedside table, I winced slightly at the dozens of missed calls and text I received, mainly from Lilia, Kimie and Baekhyun.

Feeling slightly guilty, but not knowing what to say, I sent them a mass message that said I was fine, before putting my phone on mute, so I didn't have to deal with their endless questions of where I was at.

However, I sent Baekhyun a private text:

Can you come to the hospital whenever you have time? Please don't tell anyone I'm here.

I felt like absolute garbage, but at least the burning from my marks ceased, and the headache was gone.

Soon the same nurse from last night came, with her usual bright smile, "Miss. Han, how was your sleep?"

"My whole body is sore," My voice was scratchy, as I gratefully took the water that the nurse offered, "When can I leave?"

The nurse checked my vitals and told me everything seemed to be normal and would inform the doctor before giving me an estimate of when I'll be discharged. She left me alone to my own thoughts, as I settled back into my bed, my eyes heavy, but refusing to sleep. While I may be physically better, it didn't mean I was mentally better. It didn't stop that aching feeling I felt in my chest, the loneliness and emptiness I felt.

After a bit the nurse came back with the doctor, who went over my vitals and charts again, before asking me how I was feeling and replied that I was much better.

"There's this procedure in America," The doctor suddenly spoke, as she was typing away from the computer, looking away from me, "That gets rid of the soulmate mark, and terminates the soulmate bond. It hasn't been approved in Korea, but in America, it has an 80% success rate."

I didn't reply, but I unconsciously shifted the covers to hide the marks, which I knew would be black instead of gray now, as the therapy worked it's magic to repair the bond and in the end my soul. However, there was only so much it could fix, especially when I've been doing the same treatment for nearly four years.

"I assumed you already called someone to pick you up, I'll have your paper works prepared. You can leave in about two hours."

*****

"What is going to be your excuse to Kimie and Lilia? They've been worried about you all day," Baekhyun asked, breaking the silence in his car. The radio was on low, nothing more than a buzz in the background.

Shifting my eyes to glance slightly at the pick haired guy, I turned my body farther away from him, "Just tell them I went a male strip club and I had some fun," I snorted out, not wanting to think about how to deal with my two friends. That was also the reason why we were currently heading towards Baekhyun's apartment, so I can rest more before I return to my dorms and most likely to an awaiting Kimie with a Lilia by her side.

"You're getting worst Sera," he spoke once more, this time his voice more serious causing me to stiffen up a little, "The treatments been getting less and less effective. Give or take a couple of months before those don't even work. Then what?"

"Then I head to America."

"For what?"

"To get rid of the soulmate bond, and probably go to medical school there."

*****

I was mentally and physically exhausted as I walked up the stairs. Nearly falling several times, and I just wished some unknown being would just come, sweep me off my feet and to my bed. Then I wouldn't have to face Lilia and Kimie, after facing Baekhyun.

All we did for a straight hour was scream at each other, yell, fight, and insult one another.

After my announcement of going to America and for what reason, Baekhyun exploded, calling my decision stupid. I of course argued back and tried to defend my decision. We hurled insults after insults at each other, both angry for completely different reasons, and I was the first to break. After our hour of fighting, I spent an hour crying with Baekhyun trying to comfort me, both of us apologizing, before I decided it was time to go back to my dorm.

I wished I accepted the offer to stay at his place for the night, as I pushed my key into the door and pushed it open.

Along with Kimie and Lilia, were two other people that I just wasn't mentally prepared to deal with. Even so, my heart skipped a beat when I saw them.

Sitting on one of the couches in the living room was some would say, the perfect man to exist. With his broad shoulders and slim waist, every girls dream body for their boyfriend. Well-defined facial features with slight cat-like eyes, which were a rich brown color, with a pair of plump lips. His dark black hair stood out against her perfect skin, and he really was a worldwide handsome guy.

Sitting next to him was another breathtakingly beautiful person, large brown doe eyes could make any girl swoon, especially his double eyelids that many people in Korea dreamed to have. He was still well-defined but had almost like a child aspect to him, and whenever he smiled he looked like a bunny. He was Mr. Heartthrob.

"Where the hell have you been!" It was Lilia to speak of more yell once I closed the door, "Do you know how worried we all were! And all you offered was a lame-ass, 'I'm fine, don't worry about me."

I didn't respond, didn't even think as I just stood there, blankly staring back at Lilia who looked furious.

"You didn't even come back last night and came back late today! What in the hell is going on with you Sera?"

What is going on with me?

Is there something wrong with me?

The answer is most certainly.

"I've been trying to be a supportive friend, but it's getting hard when all you do is push us all away! Did I do something wrong? I'm your fucking friend, just talk to me!"

I watched as Jin stood up, and walked behind Lilia and placed comforting hands on her shoulders to try to calm her down. It caused an immense pain within me and it took everything in me to not double over in pain.

Of course, it didn't calm Lilia down, as she only pushed Jin's hands away, and took a step closer to me.

"Do you even consider me a friend? All you ever talk to now is Baekhyun, is he your soulmate? Just tell me something, anything because I have no idea what's going on with you anymore."

There's the odd word again; soulmate. The very word I used to swoon over in middle school, to dream about finding my own. Now it's the bane of my existence.

"Let alone how mean you've been acting to my boyfriends! They've done nothing but try to befriend you, but all you do is push them away!"

Because it hurts to be around them.

"And you're moving universities and you didn't even tell me. Did you even plan on telling me?"

Without thinking, I opened up the white paper bag I was holding the whole time, and pulled out a clear orange bottle, with paper around it. The prescription my doctor gave me.

Overwhelming anger came over me, as I suddenly raised my hands and threw it harshly against the wooden floor, causing the lid to fly open. Several small white pills scattered across the floor, as the loud sound caused the room to go silence. The only thing that can be heard was my heavy breathing.

Bringing up a hand to run over my temples, to try to comfort myself, I didn't dare to look at Lilia, "I'm tired Lilia," I spoke quietly. My voice was raspy as I tugged at the collar of my shirt. It was becoming hard to breathe.

Kimie finally stood up from the couch, and with a concerned expression, she walked towards me. Instinctively I brought my left arm to my chest, and backed away, and lowered my gaze

She seemed taken aback from this, as she stopped in her track and frowned, "Sera, we were just concerned about you, ignore Lilia."

"I just..." I stuttered as my voice shook and I hated it, "I'm just tired. I'll pick up my stuff and head to Baekhyun's. Sorry for bothering you."

When I made an attempt to move around Kimie and to escape my room, Lilia roughly grabbed my left arm, stopping me. However, her stopping me wasn't the problem, it was the fact that her hands were on my marks. Without even realizing it, I began to tremble, as I tried to yank my arm out of her grasp, but she had an iron grip on it.

"You're always covering your mark, what the hell do you have to hide? Do you even see us as your friends?" I watched as her other hand reached up to my left arm, towards the ends of the bandages, with intent to take it off.

Panic overcame me, as with my free hand I roughly pushed her away, causing her to bump into Jungkook. The sight of Lilia in his arms only caused everything to be worst. Backing away, I bumped into Kimie who was yelling at Lilia.

I couldn't think straight, my mind was everywhere, and I was having a panic attack. With my breathing heavy, I wrapped my arms around myself, and closed my eyes. The feeling of Kimie's arms around me, trying to comfort me, only made the pain and anxiety worst, my left arm burning so painfully as I chocked out a sob.

"Please-" I wheezed out, unable to say anything else as I crouched down, trying to wrap myself into a ball. All I wanted to do was disappear and be alone, "It hurts," groaning out, I hissed out in pain, almost tempting to tear away at my own bandages. But that would only ruin everything, "I'm sorry."

"Sera," Kimie spoke worriedly, crouching in front of me, but I refused to look at her, "you're having a panic attack, you need to breathe slower.

It was easier said than done, as it felt like my heart was going to leap out of my chest. Especially when I heard the two men in the room whispering comforting words to Lilia. There was unbearable pain, something that I haven't felt before as I forced my eyes open and met Jungkook's concerned brown eyes staring back at me.

Breaking away the eye contact, I forced a reminder that he was only concerned for as a friend. Nothing more.

I don't know how long we all stayed like that, Lilia staring at me with uncertainty written on her face, Kimie standing slightly in front of me as if protecting me from Lilia. Jin kept his hands on his girlfriend, to calm her down as Jungkook stared at me with an unreadable expression.

Swallowing hard, with shaky legs, I stood up, and pushed Kimie to the side slightly, just wanting to go to my room.

No one made a move, but their eyes were on me as I moved past them, with every intent to just disappear until I was forced to go back to class.

However, when I passed Jungkook, I don't know what force overcame him, but suddenly he raised his arm to grip my left wrist. So dangerously close to my marks.

When I snapped my head to look at him, he had a concerned expression, and he opened his mouth as if to speak, but just closed it.

There was a familiar spark where our skin touched, and any other time it would make me feel much lighter, the mark to hurt just slightly less. This was different though, as my heart constricted, the mark on my left arm flaring up once more.

Without thinking, I harshly yanked my arm out of his grip, "Just leave me the fuck alone!" I all but screamed out, not caring when he flinched away from me, "You and all your stupid soulmates, just leave me the fuck alone!"

I didn't wait for a reply, as I stormed into my room, making a note to lock it behind me.

Throwing myself onto my bed, I was breathing heavy, and waited for the tears to come as I stared at the empty ceiling. It never came though, instead of overwhelming emotions, all that come was numbing and emotionless feeling. I knew exactly why I was feeling this, a dry laugh leaving my dry lips.

I basically just rejected my soulmates. 

[2281]

[anika-ann]

Hands Too Cold, but Heart of Gold - Pt.4

The Impossible Task

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader, Matt Murdock x reader (no SR x MM x r)

Word count: 2070

Summary: Avenger!reader AU, love triangle. You were given an impossible task. Will you give it a try? You probably should. Because your teammates seem to think you’re Steve’s only hope.

Warnings: swearing, injury, seizure, unconsensual drug use (kinda?)

(Yes, I’m using Caitlin Snow gif, sorry not sorry.)

Story Mastelist

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“Are you insane?!” you rephrased, because what the fuck did he just say?!

“Yes. No! Listen – he was injected into his calf. We need to prevent it from spreading further-“ Bruce started, his expression almost delighted as if his friend wasn’t lying there, metal clinking as he was writhing in pain and resembling a person with epilepsy.

Shit. Had Steve had epilepsy before getting boosted by the serum? You knew he had several conditions, but you couldn’t remember all of them, definitely not now.  Was the antiserum working that fast?! You shook off the thought for the sake of your own mental health.

“Did you notice that everyone I used my power on got a frostbite or lost a part of their body completely? You could as well cut his leg off!” you shouted back.

“Too radical-“

“Then apply a fucking tourniquet!” you yelled at him, not caring if you had an audience.

“His metabolism is too fast, Anderson!” The fake last name didn’t help you to snap from the hysteria building in your chest. “It already is spread, but you can cool him down-“

“I can’t do that!”

“Why couldn’t you?” Tony interjected and you turned to him, incredulous.

“Because they fucking call me FROSTBITE, not COLDBITE!”

“Come on-“

“He’s calling me Frosty,” you sobbed into your palm, your world swimming in front of your eyes as you were drowning in tears. “Fuck, fuck, fucking shit-“

Everyone fell silent, the only sound created by Steve’s body falling back onto the bed, then arching again.

“Haven’t you tried it before?” Natasha questioned and you didn’t even look at her, your gaze glued to Steve’s body fighting the antiserum. You had never seen anything scarier and you had seen what your powers could do.

“No! Don’t you get it?! I fucking hurt him the first time I met him! I’m-”

“First time for everything,” sounded calmly behind you, gloved hand suddenly resting on your forearm. You followed the lines of the arm in disbelief, meeting Devil’s half-covered face. It was ridiculous how unfazed he was by all this. Then again, why wouldn’t he be? He didn’t care about Steve, hell, he- “He trusts you.”

“Yeah, he has before and I gave him a frostbite-”

“You can stand in a distance, cooling the air. Can’t you handle that?” he offered slowly, his head bowing down slightly. You swallowed loudly, wondering how he could think of your abilities with such ease without knowing a thing and why the hell hadn’t you shaken off his hand yet?! “He has a reason to trust you, everyone on your team does. And… he was right. I trust you too.”

You drew in a sharp breath, filling your lungs, expanding your aching ribcage. Did he just say-

“I trust you, kiddo,” Tony shrugged, still rather calm about the fact that his friend was lying there unconscious, occasionally spasming and de-seruming, because of some experimental shit. People experimenting on people. You would freeze their fingers off and their too intelligent brain would follow.  

“He’s right. We all do. And you’re the only hope he has.”

You glanced at Natasha and she gave you a reassuring nod. You threw away that stupid eye-mask of yours before your shaking hands went to hover over your closest friend.

This was insane. They all belonged to a mad house.

“Then he’s screwed,” you muttered darkly, closing your eyes, releasing more tears.

You felt the gloved hand squeezing your forearm with the lightest pressure, fingers running lower, thumb caressing the back of your hand.  No one dared to comment the gesture and the fact the Devil was touching you with such ease. You had no idea what the fuck was happening, but you had to backburn the issue.

Steve. You needed to focus on Steve and on summoning your powers on such a low level you had never managed to.

“Just around zero. More as if you wanted to put him in ice, not cold-dry him, okay?”

“Stark, shut up, I can’t focus my hearing when someone’s talking bullshit,” the Devil snapped and to everyone’s surprise, the billionaire actually fell silent. You mentally thank the man in Devil’s mask; Tony was not helping. The hand on yours caressed you again before only moving to the back and soft voice sounded in your ear. “I’m gonna tap on your hand in the rhythm of his heart, alright? Everyone will see the frequency and you’ll be able to feel it – you can keep your eyes closed. It’ll be just like a heart monitor, but without the annoying beeping.”

You could feel the air shift as your powers started their work. Cool him down. Do not completely freeze him. Gently. As gently as the man tapped on the back of your hand. He was standing few inches from you, the heat radiating from his body enwrapping you, his chest almost touching you. His presence was… comforting.

The noise faded away – Steve’s body stopped spasming with one dull thud. Before you could panic, Daredevil’s voice soothed you again.

“You’re doing great. The convulsions stopped. But that’s a good thing; you can still feel his heartbeat, can’t you?”

Truth to his words, the Devil kept tapping, slower now. You trusted him and the others to handle it if you would have gone too far.

You mustn’t go too far; that was your only task now, the rest was on them. Team work. Cooperation. Just like Steve liked.

Your hands started shaking harder at the thought. Another hand caught your right wrist this time – fingers free of gloves, smaller hand too. Natasha.

“Hey, you’re good and he’s getting better. Banner’s gesturing to keep the temperature now. Can you do that for me?”

You didn’t respond, inhaling through your mouth. Honestly, you were getting tired, intrusive headache building in the back of your head, shooting down your spine. Keeping the temperature sounded even more difficult, requiring more control. You gulped and tried.

“Atta girl,” Natasha whispered encouragingly.

You clenched your jaw to bite the bullet. You would be fine. It was just a headache. You could walk that off. Steve on the other hand? Not so much.

“Ease up,” a vice like velvet pleaded lowly and you felt a dread in your stomach – were you hurting Steve now? Did you lose your focus due to the pain? “No, not because of him. For you. You’re hurting.”

Oh. You didn’t count on the distress display not going unnoticed. You ignored the plea.

“Don’t make me tap out your heartbeat for them too. They wouldn’t like it.”

“Go to hell,” you strained through your teeth, pushing the pounding headache that spread into your temples as well to the back of your mind.

Keep fucking going. This is Steve’s life in your hands now. You mustn’t let him down.

“What’s going on?” Tony questioned. You didn’t have the energy to reply to him. You settled for reciprocating the Devil’s threat.

“Say a word and I swear to God himself I’m gonna freeze off parts of your body one by one, starting with your dick,” you whispered soundlessly, only for the most sensitive ears in the room.

You could hear his breath catch.

“I’m not afraid of you.” His lips touched your ear, his quiet voice almost challenging.

You squeezed your eyes tighter, white spots dancing behind your eyelids. You switched tactics.

“Please. He’s family.”

His lips parted and he sucked a breath in, putting some distance between you two. While Steve’s heartbeat was slow and steady on your skin, you would swear that at the moment, your own heart stopped – could the Devil hear it? Did he know it was a lie and that it wasn’t?

“I can hear-“ Please. “-the blood flow redistributing. Centralizing. The area that was hit isn’t supplied much. I guess I was distracting her by telling her. I’m sorry.”

You thanked God and the Devil himself as well. He didn’t tell them.

“ETA 2 minutes,” Tony informed you, relieved smile in his voice. When had you taken off? You hadn’t even noticed.

The white spots in front of your eyes merged into one and grew despite the euphoria that should have helped you catch your breath and bring new wave of energy into your veins. Your whole head felt like it was about to explode any moment and a burning shiver ran down your spine.

The tapping on your hand disappeared – instead, two arms locked around your waist, pulling you away.

“Okay, that’s enough, Gerda,” you heard a voice, but you suddenly couldn’t place it. You were angry with it, but you couldn’t remember why.

You aimed your icy powers towards the source, pushing them towards completely different levels to get rid of him.

And then there was darkness.

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You blinked your eyes open, only to see nothing but white. For a moment, you were sure that you were dead – that this was the light at the end of the tunnel. You shielded your eyes from the brightness that was hurting you. You squinted.

It wasn’t white everywhere. There was blue too – the sky. The sun was shining so bright that the snow was reflecting the light.

It was snowing. Snowflakes silently fell, helping to build huge snowdrifts. When you brushed the snow with your gloveless hand, the snow flew – it was light as feather, the lovely powdery snow you loved watching from your window as a kid.

You looked around to find where you were, but the very same moment, a pair of warm hands covered your eyes from behind.

“Guess who?” a male voice asked, boyish laughter in his voice.

Your lips spread in a smile automatically, your hands covering his.

“Someone blond and blue-eyed?” you guessed playfully and a groan sounded from behind you.

“How do you always know, Snowflake?”

His hands dropped and you turned around, taking in his handsome face. He seemed fine. His cheeks were red from cold, just like his nose, but his eyes were shining with life, smiling.

“You’re the only one who does that,” you whispered, fascinated. Did it mean you saved him? Where were you, how had you got here? You definitely weren’t in New York now—but that wasn’t important. Steve was here – alive and well. “Did I save you?”

His lips touched your forehead lightly and you closed your eyes at the display of affection, you throat suddenly tight.

Please, say yes. I don’t care if you’re just a dream, just say yes.

“You did, Snowflake. You kept me alive and the rest was taken care of.”

You searched on his face for any hint of a lie when he withdrew. You found none, his eyes examining your expression. His thumb brushed away a tear you didn’t realize had escaped you. He seemed worried now.

“What is it, Steve? Are you okay?”

“I am. You saved my life, but-“

“But what?” you whispered, horrified. His expression turned sad, his voice heavy with sorrow.

“But it won’t be for free.”

You screamed at the sudden pain that stabbed your right side, curling up in a ball as if it could help. Tears sprouted from your eyes at the burning sensation, your cry dying in your throat as you continued to scream soundlessly, no air in your lungs left.

“Sorry, kiddo. This is gonna hurt,” another voice joined, but you couldn’t open your eyes to look at the source. Your mind was blank apart from one single thought.

Agony.

“Come on, give her more, you won’t do shit if her body won’t relax-“

“One vial-“

“Aspirator, now-“

“Sorry, kid.”

“You’re going to be fine, Snowflake. You’ll handle this. I believe in you-“

Just as Steve’s voice whispered the encouragement, indescribable agony cut through your spine, making you let out another silent cry. Pain, pain, pain, everywhere— was this how having your spine ripped out felt like?

Pain, pain, pain… dulling. Floating away. You breathed in furiously, your body throbbing with something you couldn’t place.

Gentle hands squeezed yours once again and you opened your eyes just to be blinded by the white once more.

Warm brown eyes appeared in front of you, soothing the strange feeling.

“Hey, Gerda,” the man – Kai, you figured, if you were Gerda, he had to be Kai – said softly, his fingers caressing the back of your hand. “You’re gonna be okay.”

Kai was supposed to be your best friend. So you trusted him and allowed your eyelids to fall shut again.

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Part 5

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Tags: @mermaidxatxheart​, @murdermornings​, @elisaa-shelby​ @ask-hellbent-tweek​

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Oooookay, I’m not sure if I didn’t push the Snow Queen references too far, but that’s totally Matt’s fault; it’s not like the Gerda nickname is from my head right? (Totally from Matt’s)  *leaves whistling innocently*

Thank you for reading! I’m alright with tagging people, if anyone wants in or out, let me know ;)