#literally witnessing his actual nightmares walk up to him and say hey

[chloesimaginationthings]

HAHAHA, THIS EXPRESSION IS GREAT.

HELP IM GLAD YALL LIKED IT!!

[bucketspammer4life]

☆ how the boxers act when drunk ☆

Moe posts without an ask?? How scandalous!!!

Glass Joe

- lightweight, cant walk properly and ends up falling to the floor on his face multiple times

- will not shut up, gets really talkative, only in french sadly

- insists on walking himself home like he can stand on his 2 feet without fighting for his life

- his english gets 100 times worse than usual

- needs to get carried or get thrown in a uber, even then, he'll usually pass out on his doorstep or at the foot of his bed

Von Kaiser

- ever watched a german grandpa transform into a philosopher? Youre about to witness it now,want to wonder "what the fuck is a potato anyway?"

- asks stuff that really makes you think, not anything meaningful but its still gonna make you think

- halfway through his ramblings he just starts dancing

- can actually walk properly, just not to the right direction

- will tell you stories and switch languages halfway through

Disco Kid

- runs away when drunk for no apparent reason or for something he completely made up on the spot, Disco what do you mean you forgot your dog in Oklahoma?? You dont even have a dog

- dances a whole lot more, except hes more likely to fall down a flight of stairs

- even happier, unlike Kaiser he can actually say meaningful stuff without changing dialects halfway through

- picks up people randomly for no reason and spins them around

King Hippo

- hes just.. gone

- passes out the second alcohol hits him

- out cold, this is why he avoids drinking

Piston Hondo

- why is he so sad?? hes just crying please take him home

- will cry over anything, including the fact that hes drunk, poor man crying over thinking hes gonna lose face when drunk

- will cry onto & into anything, bartenders arms? yeah why not, the floor? Yeah why not, will cry you a river

- so worried about losing face hes crying WHILE drunk about losing face

Bear Hugger

- jollier than santa, complete opposite of hondo

- will sing sea shanties, give out free hugs and just be happy

- aware of the fact hes drunk and using it to his advantage to say random stuff

- "i might like raw fish but i also like raw meat"

- "what."

- suprisingly good at walking, also in the right direction i might add

- more likely to laugh at thin air than usual

Great Tiger

- pure chaos, teleporting around to not fall to the floor, only to end up flopping onto another floor

- his clones turn into nightmare fuel, some missing parts of their body, some missing their face, literal body horror

- his magic just degrades into a worse version of itself

- keeps scaring people for no apparent reason

- floats around randomly when bored

Don Flamenco

- flirtier, messier & sadder

- his pick up lines sound like hes having a stroke

- if he gets rejected while drunk he'll just cry

- "hey babygirl.. Are you a 100 bucks?... Because i wanna have you"

- "no thank you"

- "EIGJJHHHSHSHHSHWAHHHHHH"

- holding onto his drinks like someones gonna take it from him, which is most likely true because he needs to be stopped

Aran Ryan

- worse than his usual self, cartwheels around, smacks people for no reason, climbs on top of things and falls then runs away

- you think Disco being a runner was bad?? hes 100 times worse, he just runs without saying anything, hes a fast runner too so hes worse

- somehow speaks irish better when hes drunk, sadly no one can understand him because no one around him knows irish

- fights people for no reason, usually ending in him needing to be held, which ends in him falling asleep

Soda Popinski

- hes just a big ball of anxiety since he was a former alcoholic

- Really worried hes gonna do something dumb so he just curls up into a ball and lays on the ground

- will go home as soon as hes drunk, poor man :(

- if he cant go home he'll try to sober up, much to his failure

- holding back tears

Bald Bull

- wayy more affectionate than usual, giddy and a bit more touchy, hes a sweetheart when drunk and due to this, some people have considered keeping him drunk to avoid his anger, this obviously wouldnt work because liver failure is not fun

- unable to get pissed off when drunk, hes just incapable of anger

- will give out hugs

- also bit of a lightweight, flailing around, trying not to fall, only to fall on his ass

- gets very giggly and laughs a whole lot

- after a few minutes, hes barely able to move and ends up needing to be carried home, even then he doesnt shut up

Super Macho Man

- still a douchebag, but a bit kinder

- very aware of the fact hes drunk, so he finishes every kind sentence with "im drunk so dont expect anything like this when im sober"

- passes out then wakes up again like a windows computer

Mr Sandman

- you cant really tell whenever hes drunk or not, the only difference is him smiling a lot more

- not really aware of the fact hes drunk, Just counts himself as tipsy

- the only person you could trust to drive drunk, except you shouldnt because drunk driving is bad

- randomly falls asleep

[lonelyfanboy48]

Steven Universe Of The Creek Chapter 16 The Wild Star Child Grazer

J.P. took the group to the open field of the creek, which took Steven by surprise. “There’s an open field here?” He looked in his surroundings.

“Yes.” Kelsey replied.

“I assume you’ve gone past multiple fields during your travels, right?” Omar commented.

“Well in the car on highways, but I’ve only gone to one field on foot.” Steven responded. “I still find this place small, but still relaxing.”

“This field is called Horse Girl Meadow, but there’s no actual horses.” J.P. said. “There’s a girl who wanted me to be part of her herd, but I wanted to be a truck rather than a horse.”

After listening to J.P. Steven witnessed four girls running in the distance. With the meadow itself completely empty aside from the four, he may find a way to do something with not only the location itself but also with Craig. “Are those?” He pointed to which J.P. catched on.

“They’re the Horse Girls.”

“I want you to know…I’m not much of a horse person.” Craig filled in.

“Thanks for letting me know, because I might be able to find a horse for you to ride on.” Steven looked back at Craig, which took the child by notice. They made their way to the Horse Girls who’ll just stop in the center of the field. It didn’t take long until they saw them after they jumped over the barricades like they do everyday.

“That girl with the white hair and cat headband is Maney.” J.P. said. “She’s the girl I was referring to.”

As Steven made his way to the herd, the leader of the herd took notice with J.P. and the others by his side. Unlike her encounters with the other kids, she’s witnessing a grown teen in her eyes. “What the hey?” She reacted.

“What is it, Mackenzie?” Marie wondered to which she immediately paid attention to the teen.

“Is that…a teen?” Melissa added.

“Seems they didn’t get the news about you last night.” J.P. commented.

“Perfect.” Steven smiled.

Soon, Maney turned around to witness J.P. again, to which she blushed. “J.P.” She responded with the group walking up to the Horse Girls.

“I have a special friend for you all to meet.” J.P. presented The Crystal Gem. “Steven Universe.”

When Mackenzie and her herd looked up to him, she wouldn’t expect a teen spending his time at this area of the creek. “How did you manage to have a teen as your best friend?” She looked directly at Steven.

“Last night had a lot of danger.” Craig answered.

“Literally.” Omar added.

“Hmm. If it’s dangerous when horses won’t make it out from a thunderstorm, you must be brave to save one horse.” Mackenzie replied.

“Yeah, last night was really scary.” Melissa commented.

“If a small horse was stuck to something during a storm, he or she would catch a cold, or have nightmares forever.” Marie added.

Both Steven and Craig looked at each other, but knew the Horse Girls got the wrong idea. “Well, small horses can still be brave, even during thunderstorms.” Craig awkwardly grinned.

“Not to mention there are more ways for a horse to be out in a storm.” Steven smiled. “Mainly stopping a terrible animal who could take over the meadow.”

“Oh so there's…a mean horse?” Maney wondered.

“A brown and mostly blue mean horse.”

The Horse Girls felt puzzled, even if their leader still had questions despite not as much as others who received the news involving Steven. “What kind of horse are you?”

“Let’s just say, a special breed of horse.” He lifted his shirt up to reveal his gem in front of the Horse Girls, taking them all by surprise.

“Oh my goodness!” Maney looking straight at the gem.

“That looks beautiful!” Marie added. 

“Where and how am I gonna draw that on a horse.” Melissa’s eyes sparkled.

“That can’t be rare for a horse to have.” Mackenzie looked straight at it.

“Believe me, if it wasn’t rare, it would’ve hurt if it’s stuck in there.” J.P. added.

“If you wanna know how rare I am, one of the horses in the herd I’m in has a gem similar to this, and she’s purple.” Steven replied.

“Purple?” Maney reacted. “That’s incredible if your herd has different colors.”

“It is. Her name is Amethyst. Ruby and Sapphire ride on her when they go to the mountains.”

“Amethyst the purple horse?” Mackenzie said while still staring at Steven’s gem. “What other horses do you have in your herd?”

“Pearl who is…mostly the same color as a white horse. Garnet who’s a Red and Pink color, Lapis who’s a blue horse, and Peridot who’s a green horse.”

“Wooow.” The Horse Girls responded.

Despite Craig knowing who the Crystal Gems are, he wanted Steven to have his chances in the Horse Girl Meadow. Even if it was J.P.’s idea to come here, from the way he’s handling it, it’s way better for his health than the events from yesterday.

“Would you be willing to join our herd?” Marie offered.

“Only for a while, since you just got here?” Melissa added.

“Horse Girls.” Mackenzie turned her attention to her herd. “As much as I lay off the rules, having a grown teen ride with us isn’t natural.”

“Yeah, I have to agree.” Maney replied. “J.P., don’t you think this is unusual?”

J.P. agreed with her, but at the same time, he knew they were on a wild ride from Steven’s Gem powers. “Yes, but have you ever played an online game where you can shorten your horse?”

The Horse Girls looked at each other while turning to J.P. again. “Yes, I’ve always wanted to shorten my horses.”

This gave Steven an idea, thanks to where J.P. is going with this. “I may have never played an online horse game, but shortening, that’s my secret of being a horse.” He glowed, taking everyone’s attention around him. His body got shortened with Craig and the others somehow taller than him, aside from Kelsey and Mackenzie’s height. As the glow faded, Steven opened his eyes with a smile on his face. “Steven Universe is here to be part of the herd.” He spoke with his young voice.

“Holy ranch!” Melissa reacted.

“He just became a kid in a matter of seconds.” Mackenzie added.

“This has just gotten better.” J.P. wrapped his arm around Steven, while witnessing his pink coat and pants unable to fit him due to his small size. “Do you want your coat and pants to be placed on the side while you ride with the Horse Girls?”

“Sure.” Steven got out of his pink coat and pants while J.P. placed it by the tall grass. Craig along with his friend’s jaws dropped from behind. They knew Steven told him about his powers but they couldn’t imagine what it would look like in front of their eyes. When Steven turned around, he couldn’t hold his laughter from his friends' reactions. “I guess you can see what I look like at fourteen years old.”

“Fourteen years old!?” Maney reacted while blinking.

“You can’t expect me to believe that!” Mackenzie said shockingly.

“Really, that was the last thing I would expect.” Marie added. “I thought you were like ten or eleven.”

Steven turned back to the Horse Girls, still smiling. “Believe me, Connie couldn’t believe it when she was twelve. What are we waiting for? Let’s go!” Steven went past the Horse Girls as he ran while lifting his arms up in front of him.

“Should we follow him?” Maney asked with J.P. by her side.

“Sure, it’s no longer unnatural.” Mackenzie smiled. “Let’s go girls.”

The Horse Girls and J.P. followed Steven in the Horse Girl Meadow. Craig and the others on the other hand are still stunted in place. “I can’t believe…he wasn’t joking when he had the ability to be younger.” Craig replied.

“If only we had that ability when we all enter our teenage years.” Kelsey smiled.

“Okay don’t go nuts on that, because I wouldn’t even spend my life as a kid forever.” Omar said.

Craig continued to watch Steven running with the Horse Girls and J.P. but as a truck. He hopped over the sticks right before the Horse Girls, he made a horse sound while J.P. made a truck noise, soon they both raced each other around the Horse Girls.

“We’re protecting you all from any danger of menacing animals!” Steven cheered.

“Like the brown and mostly blue mean horse.” J.P. added. “I’ll take her back to horse military school!”

The Horse Girls lifted their heads up in the air, making a squeal noise when Horses were excited. “I have to admit though, he’s way more happy when he’s a kid…despite still being fourteen.” Craig smiled.

“He’s probably enjoying this place because it’s an open field.” Omar added. “You can’t get enough when horses come out in open fields.” Craig and Kelsey both looked at Omar, not forgetting about what Steven stated upon arriving. “Okay, especially Steven himself.”

“Well you're not wrong about horses in open fields, I’m mostly impressed that he’s more happy than he was back at Ramp City.” Kelsey replied. “Hey Craig, why don’t you have Steven carry you?”

“I would but I don’t like being on horses. We only did that for J.P. when Maney wanted to hang out with him.” Craig turned to Kelsey.

“But Craig, that was a long time ago. I’m sure Steven would like to carry you.”

“This is much for J.P. since he chose to come here, I want to give him his time with Steven while you two can have…your…” Craig took notice of Kelsey moving to the left side and Omar moving to the right side. “What?”

“Welcome to the herd.”

Out of nowhere, Steven went under Craig’s body, lifting him up from the ground while landing on Steven’s back. Steven grabbed his legs just in time while Craig held on to him. “Steven!?” Craig reacted.

“Come on, I can still carry you. Be a cowboy like Ruby is!” Steven turned around to head back to the Horse Girls and J.P., he went past them and they followed him immediately with Craig trying to handle being on Steven.

“Whoa! I would be a cowboy if I was ready for this.”

“Expect the unexpected, that’s who Steven is.” J.P. called while running by Steven.

As the Horse Girls are next to Steven and Craig, Craig tries to focus on the moment while Steven’s still caring for him. Even from the weight of Craig, Steven had no problem while still running. He may be in his young self body but he still has strength from his grown teen self. He makes his way to the hill of Horse Girl Meadow, reaching up the hill while stopping on top of it.

The Horse Girls stop next to them with J.P. stopping next to the right. As Craig kept his balance, he looked at the field while Steven had a better view of Horse Girl Meadow. “This is the best spot when the whole herd is together.” Mackenzie said.

“Especially for new horses.” Maney smiled.

“I can tell.” Steven taking the view. “I had a bigger hill that showed the whole area, not just the beach where I lived.”

“If only the meadow was much bigger.” Marie commented.

“We could see what you mean from your childhood.” J.P. added.

Craig looked at Steven from the left who he took notice of. “I’m not gonna lie, you do really feel like someone who goes to the creek like we do.” He responded.

“Thanks.” Steven smiled. “Granted I want more people here to see my true self, but I can change back when a location makes me appreciative like this place.”

“That’s fine, it’s good that this doesn’t hurt unlike the other way around.”

“What’s wrong with the other way around?” Mackenzie wondered.

“Let’s just say…a glitch will happen where a bigger horse turns into a baby horse.” Steven filling in.

“It could happen.” J.P. replied.

“I really don’t want to see that.” Melissa added.

As they all looked in the distance, Craig thought about what he and Steven can go to next once they’re done here. Many options he can choose, but he’s hoping Steven would enjoy it as much as he did with Horse Girl Meadow and Ramp City, all the while also having more moments with him.

[lilac--sun]

WOO BACK TO BACK HEADCANNONS IM ON A ROLL The dark and light sanses have a truce in this btw

Nightmares gang, Star sans' and other's<3

-----------------------------

Reaper could see people's death dates like how the shinigami can in death note but its in wingdings

Killer is extremely bad at remembering names so he comes up with nick names to help himself remember..but he never stopped using them so now he just annoys people with them "hey Ink sack" "please don't call me that"

"whats up glitchy" "ShUut uPp"

"yo all mighty king of goop-" "get out of my office"

Because Horror and Dust used to be a normal sans before the trauma of their Au caught up to them so they often do pun sessions and laugh their asses off

Red has a Nintendo switch and is the master of Mario cart, he will Literally fist fight someone if they don't believe him, Sci has gotten a few bruises from trying to win

(passive)Nightmare and Dream both have a birth mark on their backs, Dream is on the left side in faint shape of a crescent moon and Nightmares is on the right, in a faint shape of a sun, basically reminding them that no matter what they always have a bit of other with them at all times

Reaper was hanging out at Nightmares Castle when Error stretched plus yawned the EXACT same way Geno does and it all clicked with Reaper who let out the biggest "..OHHHHHH OKAY" when he realized that Error used to be Geno

(this is honestly my favorite one) Horror ane Farm often hangout and Horror steals chickens to take home, he usually carrys the chickens in his cracked skull so at random times he'll reach in and just...pull out a fucking chicken and Nightmare has to apologize to Farm

Ink isn't actually all that bad, even tho he doesn't have a soul hes picked up on enough social ques to understand what's happening and how other people should feel, so yes he is pretty mean but only if he doesn't like you.

The gang found out Crosses fear of cows because Killer made him watch Voltron and he screamed when that one cow showed up, they make fun of him for it.

Error can fall asleep anywhere, hes fallen asleep standing up, upsidedown, eating, showering (etc) the gang has to wake him up and he jumps when you wake him up, like a mom

Horror has a large garden, its located behind the castle and he grows around 10-13 different types of food and he secretly takes baskets full back to his Au and gives them to his papyrus

The bad time trio(Classic, Stretch and storyshift chara) Have weekly meetings at Classics house and papyrus makes them cookies :)

Dust's the quietest out of the five of them, while him and killer talk all the time and hes pretty talkative with the others, he usually won't talk other then that

Killer is the complete opposite, hes always talking. No matter what situation is he will talk about anything and everything, he does most of the talking when the gang is outside of their AU

Blue is the master at word searches, he can complete any word search in under a minute, he didn't think it was that special until he saw Cross so frustrated with one and he walked over and did it almost immediately... Cross was stunned.

The Star Sans' often go on picnics and just talk about random stuff, they Usually go to Piratetale and sit on the beach, they'll play in the water for a few hours and fall asleep in a cuddle pile after they get back to Dreams mansion

Nightmare says he doesn't care about Dream but he once witnessed Stretch slap Dream and lets just say Stretch was almost broken in half by Nightmare in a few seconds, Dream wasn't expecting that.

Ink and Error Train together and it always scares everyone because they don't worry about eachother so until one of them says "stop" the training will go on, the problem is that neither of them want to lose so Nightmare or Blue usually has to yell at them to stop

Ink and Error actually get along really well when they're not fighting, Ink's Sketch book is filled with sketches of Error because of how he sits/stands/sleeps, its very sketchable according to Ink and Error makes Ink a whole bunch of stuff while knitting, ink has new clothes every other day because of Error and Error finds it easy to make stuff for him because of how short he is

Error gave Nightmare and his gang access to the Anti-Void Incase of emergencys

Killer loves to find frogs and catch them then let them roam around the Anti-void...Error almost had a heart attack when he entered the Anti-void and saw 600+ frogs everywhere. Killer had his anti-void privileges taken away permanently

[the-devils-girl94]

Distracting Thoughts

Prompt: Stranded On A Boat

Characters: Beelzebub x Fem!MC

Content Warnings: Masturbation, MC has thalassophobia(a fear of the ocean and other large bodies of water), MC fantasizing about Beel, lots of smutty good times with Beel

(I like how there is a word for how I feel about large bodies of water. Did not expect it to be this long ass word though.)

Another fic for @voltage-vixen ‘s Summer of Smut challenge! Enjoy!

“How on Earth did I end up in this mess?”

A heavy sigh left your lips and you buried your face into your hands.

Right now, you were stuck in the middle of the sea on a boat that Lord Diavolo had outright purchased. Not everything was going so bad, but you wouldn’t be feeling so slighted if everything was going good either.

Oh no, no. It was simply terrible.

For one thing, while you weren’t in immediate danger, being stuck in the middle of the freaking ocean was downright terrifying! All you could think of was scary scenarios of you drowning in this never-ending sea. Like the boat could sink and you could drown, you could fall over the edge and drown, or you could fall over the edge and a nearby shark could see you as a tasty snack and that could be your end. Your mind just kept coming up with the most exaggerated and impossible one-in-a-million chance scenarios that really did no good for you.

You hated being anywhere near large bodies of water, but there was one thing that kept some of the thoughts at bay. And that was you weren’t entirely alone.

You sat on the back deck of the boat Diavolo had purchased, far away from either edge that you didn’t want to be near, and before you was the ever-so lively Demon Brothers of the House of Lamentation. In short, your lively roommates who just make everything so much better...sometimes. Lord Diavolo and Barbatos was there as well but they mostly kept to themselves with Diavolo mostly sunbathing.

Your mind felt more at ease with the guys around since you knew if any of the scenarios did happen, they would not hesitate to immediately step in to save you. Though you still hope it would never have to come to that in the first place. You felt most safe around Beelzebub, the sixth born. 

Your eyes caught him in the pool that was several feet away from you. He was joined by his twin and locked in a fierce game with the second and third born. Well, you say fierce but its clear that Beelzebub is the victor. Mammon and Leviathan were no match against Beel’s pure strength. And had Belphegor been with anyone else besides his twin, he definitely would not have stood a chance against a team up of his older brothers.

You weren’t too interested in their game play, however. Your eyes were trained on Beel. Even before this boat fiasco, your eyes have never strayed far away from the gluttonous demon. For a long time, you didn’t know if it was a crush or if you’re just naturally drawn to his sweet nature.

“Or maybe that chiseled body of his.”

The tips of your ears grew hot as the thought crept in, replacing your previous anxiety-ridden thoughts. Your mind soon became riddled with images of Beelzebub’s torso. Mostly of his glorious pecs and washboard abs because this demon was built like a freaking Greek God. God knew exactly what he was doing when he made him, but him being a demon made his appeal so much greater! It was, in every sense of the word, sinful.

You were brought back to reality when you heard a large splash and some yelling. You looked up in time to see Levi and Mammon getting flung out of the pool by Beel, all while Belphie napped out on a floating donut. The whole thing brought you to tears as you laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. Mammon had caught you laughing and scolded you.

“Hey, (Y/N)! Don’t laugh, it ain’t funny!,” he yelled, but you continued to chuckle. You felt a little bad, but it was so unexpected as Beel had grabbed them by their feet and literally threw them out.

“(Y/N) witnessed our defeat...how uber lame,” muttered Leviathan as he rubbed his now aching back.

Wiping away your tears, you let out an amused sigh and went off on your own to explore the boat. You were unaware of Beel calling after you as you walked away.

________________________________________________________________

You thought it would be a good idea to explore the boat since Lord Diavolo had bought it and anything he buys is always luxurious. And it was but...

As you wandered the halls, you suddenly understood what sailors meant by sea legs. Although the boat was mostly steady, there would be an occasional gentle rocking of the boat. And had it been anyone else, it would have been fine but no! It completely unsettled you and your thoughts once again became filled with disturbing scenarios of that all ended in you meeting your end in some extreme way or another.

“Oh why did I think it was okay to go off on my own?,” you thought.

Feeling sick to your stomach, you thought it best to just retire to your room and calm your incessant thoughts. You flopped onto your bed and buried your face into your pillow. You hope this day would end so you could finally get off this nightmare. You tried to refocus your mind on something else, because even with you running through every possibility of drowning in every way possible, you were aware that you were in safe hands. None of the brothers would ever let you meet such an end in this never-ending sea full of wonders and mysteries.

You thought back to earlier and found yourself thinking of Beel once more.

The images from earlier made you kick your legs as your face became hot and flushed. You groaned into your pillow with frustration.

“Fuuuuckkkk!,” you screamed internally, feeling slightly ashamed for thinking about Beelzebub in such a manner. But thinking of him did make the other thoughts fade away to the background. Plus you may have a crush on him, so..was it totally wrong to fantasize about him showing up to your room, body dripping with water and looking at you with lust filled eyes?

....Okay, hold up, that actually is kinda hot.

It was the most prevalent image in your head. It made you wonder if you would have the chance to actually have Beel in your room and let him take you. Or maybe have the courage to be that daring?

You felt a tingling sensation between your legs and rolled on your back, blushing. You dwelled on the thought a little more to the point that it became a fantasy. And you imagined Beelzebub crawling towards you on your bed until his face was a couple inches away from yours. His rough hands were on your thighs, lifting them up so your clothed sex could feel the hardness of his bulge clothed from the thin material of his swim shorts.

The heat within your core began to grow and before you knew it, you were already trying to calm the growing heat with your hand. You were craving for the imaginary touch that only existed in your mind. Rubbing against your clit, the fantasy progressed into Beel removing your clothes and pushing his shorts down to free his hardened member. You imagined him stroking his cock against your sensitive slit that was getting wetter and wetter in reality.

Your breathing became heavy and you brought up a free hand to go under your shirt and bra to twist at your nipples. The fantasy continued as you imagined Beel dipping his fingers inside of you, stretching out your pussy to prepare you for him.

Moans started to escape from your lips as your hands worked on your body to bring you the stimulation and release you desperately searched for. You weren’t aware of it but you were also moaning Beel’s name. Apparently you were being a bit loud, because you failed to hear the knocking at your door and the sound of it opening until...

“(Y/N).”

You snapped out of your fantasy-filled haze when you heard your name. Suffice to say, you were extremely embarrassed to find a blushing Beelzebub in your room, half-eaten snacks in his hands. You quickly covered yourself up with a shout, but it was much too late. You were sure that he had saw everything. He probably even heard you too.

“Waah! I’m so fucking embarrassed! Oh my God,” you cringed, trying so hard to fold in on yourself so you could disappear. 

“Ah, (Y/N)! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to barge in like that,” he apologized profusely. He saw your covers move a bit but no sign of you poking your head out. You whined as you stammered out, “It’s fine! I should have locked my door. I didn’t mean for you to see me...like that...so.”

Ahhh, if anything was more worse than drowning in an ocean where your body likely won’t be found, it was definitely having your crush walk in on you masturbating to him. Ok, maybe not that much worse but still! Tears began to well up in your eyes and you fully expected for Beelzebub to walk out as this situation must have been a bit awkward. But instead you felt your bed dip in a bit as another weight was added. A hand was placed on your back and started rubbing in circles. Your lip trembled as your tears fell, because WHY WAS HE SO FREAKING SWEET!? 

Yeah, you were definitely crushing on him. This is why he was the only one on the crush list.

Beelzebub could feel you trembling and his face was still red from walking in on you. Though if he had to admit it, seeing you like that really turned him on. And to hear you moan his name so wantonly was like music to his ears. But he still felt bad because it was your private time that he interrupted. All because he wanted to hang out with you since he wanted to do so earlier, but you didn’t hear him calling after you.

But now there was a massive elephant in the room and neither of you knew how to bring it up without it becoming more awkward. Or your in case more embarrassed.

“(Y/N)?”

“Yes, Beel?”

“I’m still sorry for earlier. I wanted to hangout, but do...do you want me help you a bit?”

You shot up like a rocket and turned wide-eyed to face a startled Beelzebub, who was feeling a bit pervy for asking you that question. But to you, he didn’t need to feel like that because this was the moment you were thinking of earlier! You started to laugh at the irony, causing Beel to become confused which you noticed.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’m not laughing at you, Beel!,” you chuckled out. “It was just that earlier I was thinking of what would I do if I had you in my room all to myself.”

At that, the gentle giant smiled at you, understanding why you were laughing. He crawled towards you, his face a few inches from yours. You were smiling but your face grew warm.

“So is it a ‘yes’?,” he asked, though his lips were drawing in close to yours.

“Y-yes-mmph,” his lips had closed in on yours and you felt his hands come up to your shoulders. Sliding off the covers from your body, Beel gently laid you back on the bed. You wrapped your arms around him as he coaxed your mouth open with a bit of prodding from his tongue. You could taste the sweetness of the snacks he had earlier as your tongues became entangled. You gasped when he pulled away.

Beelzebub set his focus on leaving kisses on your neck, starting a trail. He got to your breasts and cupped them in his hands, firmly squeezing them. A squeal escaped from your lips when you felt his wet tongue teasing your nipple. He sucked it into his mouth, pulling before letting it go with a pop.

"Ahhaaa, Beel! Please," you pleaded as he devoured your chest. You couldn't take it with him pulling, twisting, and sucking on your sensitive nubs. Your hands had moved to his forearms and you held a firm grip on them as Beel sucked away.

With a final tug, he left your poor nipples alone, going back to his task of leaving butterfly kisses on your body. Your body trembled with ecstasy but soon jolted from a shock when you felt a wet appendage lapping at your swollen clit.

Once Beel had finished leaving you kisses, he came across your pussy, still wet and glistening from when you were masturbating to him. His eyes darkened as his mind drifted back to that scene of you pleasuring yourself, seeing your delectable juices dripping your core.

He just knew that he had to taste you. To devour such a pretty, pink platter that was meant for him to sample. As soon as his tongue made contact with your clit, he felt you jump but he continued to lap at it, enjoying the taste and fragrance you gave off. You squirmed and your pants started to fill the room. Your toes curled and your feet had a hard time not slipping off your sheets as you encouraged Beel to keep going.

His tongue parted your puffy, pussy lips and he noticed your legs trembling. So he hooked his hands underneath your knees, spreading them further to her better access. He let your legs rest on his shoulders, all the while keeping his mouth on you.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," you chanted over and over as your back arched, wanting to rub your sex over his tongue. You could feel yourself coming undone and on the verge of cumming. Beel's member twitched against the thin fabric of his swim shorts as he could tell your release was imminent, but...

Reluctantly, he pulled away from your pussy. He really wanted you to release all your tasty juices over his cock. He wiped away the mix of his saliva and your own cream from his chin.

You groaned but it turned into a squeak when Beel crawled back on top of you. Your legs were still over his shoulders and so you felt your body being folded in half but it wasn't too uncomfortable. But it aroused you more as you could feel his bulge heavy against your sex. You wanted it inside, for it to stretch your walls as you take every inch Beel gave you. For you to cream all over it so you could lick it off him and he could do it all over again.

Beelzebub's lips pressed against yours and you wasted no time parting your lips so his tongue could share the taste of your pussy. You could feel Beel's hands fumbling to pull down his shorts to let his cock finally breath. His lips never left yours, even as he guided his cock to your hole. You had braced yourself but was pleasantly surprised when he sanked into you with ease, but it still raised a moan out of you as your wall stretched to accommodate him.

Beel broke the kiss to let out a hissing sound as your pussy took him in so smoothly. He could feel you clenching around him, wanting to greedily take in more. But he was fully seated inside you, his balls pressed firmly against the plumpness of your ass.

"Shit...(Y/N), you feel so fucking amazing," he said as he recaptured your lips with his and rocked his hips to get a little friction going. He pulled back until only half of his dick was inside and slammed back into you. He repeated the action a few more times, drawing out moans that ended up getting swallowed up by him.

You pulled away from the kiss to cry out freely as he set a hard, quick pace as his hips connected with yours repeatedly. The slapping sound of your skin colliding overcome the sounds of your moans and cries. Beel couldn't help but groan at the way your pussy tightened around him with every thrust. Your body trembled against his as the heat became overwhelming. Your hands scrambled to grip at something, changing from scratching at Beelzebub's back or balling up your sheets into your fist, as you feared that the pleasure was going to take you away.

The seams were tearing and Beel could feel you were close as your pussy convulsed around him. So he sat up, holding your legs up, and pounded away at you. Your moans turned to screams and chants of Beel's name as his cock wrecked you.

"Beeeeel! I'm cumming, cumming!," you screamed, but it didn't deter him even as your released overflowed on his cock. The consistent clenching of your pussy finally drove him over the edge and his seed coated the inside of your walls, a deep growl erupted from him as he pressed his cock deep inside you.

With the both of you spent for the moment, Beel slipped out of you and collapsed beside you. However, he wrapped his arms around you to bring you closer. You sighed contently, feeling very much satiated as well as Beelzebub.

You felt lips pressing against your forehead and giggled before giving Beel a chaste kiss on the lip.

"That was amazing," you smiled. You saw his cheeks redden and the hug tightens.

"I-I would like to do that again...maybe sometime," spoke the blushing giant as he looked into your eyes.

The tips of your ears turning red as you agreed.

You figured this boat nightmare wasn't too bad as you snuggled up to Beel's chest, wondering if you had the courage to say you like him.

You saved the thought for another day to ponder later.

[navalcriminalimagines]

Hi it's me again! 🤭 May I request for angst "Do you even still love me?" and end with fluff "Please just kiss me already" for Gibbs? 🥺

Thank youu!! ❤️

I hope you’ll like it! Let me know ❤️

Distance

You thought that after catching Harper Dearing, things would go back to normal, but Gibbs is still distant with you as he's been for months. You don't know what to think, you barely see each other, he doesn't call to pick you up after work so you can spend the night together. You can't remember the last date you two had. It's driving you crazy.

So, you decide to surprise your boyfriend at work. You walk into the NCIS headquarters, and you can see they are still remodeling all the damages that was caused by the bombing. As you get to the bullpen, you realize that only Tony and Tim are here. "Miss Y/L/N, nice to see you here!" Tony greets you with a warm smile.

"Hi Tony!" you return his smile, "Tim," the agent waves at you but keeps typing on his computer. "Is Gibbs around?"

"Down in Abby's lab. You can go if you want,"

You thank him and walk to the elevator to join Abby's lab. Unlike Tony said, Gibbs isn't there. You can see Abby doing her thing on her computer, so you knock before getting in. "Y/N! Hey!" she basically jogs to you to give you a hug.

"How are you, Abbs?" you ask. You know that she's been having nightmares since the bombing and her reflex is to call Gibbs in the middle of the night.

"I'm fine. Nightmares are less regular. I'm sorry if I wake you up by calling Gibbs,"

"It's okay. I understand why you do it,” to be honest, you aren’t with Gibbs when Abby calls. You don’t spend the night over anymore. You only witnessed her calls a time or two. “Was he supposed to be here, by the way?"

"He was but now he's either down in Autopsy or back upstairs," she informs you, "Are you mad at him for going after Dearing by himself?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

At this very moment, Abby realizes she made a mistake. Apparently, you didn't know the details about Dearing's death. Gibbs hid that for you. At first, Abby doesn't want to tell more about it, but she caves in when she sees the sadness and hurt on your face. "He went there without backup. It could've been--terrible,"

Things are actually worse than you thought. Gibbs could've died by going after that guy. Of course, he can die every day on the job, but he took unnecessary risks, and the worst part is, he didn't even tell you about it.

You don't want to chase him all over the headquarters, so you just go back into the bullpen and wait for him with the boys. Gibbs appears a few minutes later, obviously surprised to see you here. "Elevator?" you just ask and he nods, following you.

Once inside the elevator, you turn off the switch. Gibbs can see you're pissed by the way you stand.

"Kiss me," he says with a smile but your reaction is to shook your head no. You would've taken a step back if you weren't in this little space.

"You don't deserve a kiss, Leroy," you tell him. "Are we still dating?" you ask, clearly annoyed.

"Why wouldn't we be?" he asks, innocently.

"Cause you're distant. Cause we haven't been together for months. Cause you're fucking avoiding me! Cause you lie--"

"Hey!" he interjects, "I do not lie! Especially not to you,"

"Oh really? Didn't you go after Harper Dearing all by yourself, without any backup? You literally threw yourself into the lion's mouth but you didn't give him a heads up! Do you even think about how I would feel if something happens to you? Do you even-- think about me, at all?"

You try to fight your tears but you've been holding back for a while now, you just let them go. It breaks Gibbs's heart to see you like, he never imagines his behavior would hurt you like this. He feels really bad about himself right now, he doesn't care about Rule 6.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I--"

"Do you even still love me, J?" you finally ask. This has been on the tip of your tongue for weeks, you had to ask. You're scared of the response he may give you, but it's better to know. If he wants to break up with you, he should just do it.

Gibbs closes the gap between you two, his hand immediately finds its way to your cheek and he locks his piercing blue eyes into yours. “Of course I do, Y/N,” he says, taking your tears away with his thumb.

“Say it,” you whisper.

“I love you. I never stopped loving you,” he admits, “I’m sorry I’ve been distant with you lately, I’ll make it up to you, I promise,”

One thing you know about your boyfriend is that he always keeps his promises. He wouldn’t promise you anything if he didn’t plan on doing it. You can’t doubt about that.

“Then, kiss me already,” you say and he does. Gibbs brings his lips to yours, you can smell the coffee he’s been drinking on them. What started as a chaste kiss becomes more intense. While his tongue slips into your mouth, your hands ran through his Marine haircut. Gibbs moans at the feeling. He missed you. He missed how you touch and kiss him.

He won’t ever be distant with you, again.

[keiichikuzuryuwu]

Place Your Bets

Implied (Future) Keiichi Kuzuryuu x Reader

Summary: This is a reimagining of the manga’s version of the Four of Clubs game, featuring a very stubborn, very smart mother hen Y/N instead of a gentle girl.

A/N: I have literally never seen anyone write for Kuzuryuu and that made me sad, because I love him. Also I know very little about how to actually take care of a baby so please be forgiving.

TW: Blood, leg injury, a crying baby

Walking along a deserted street, a man in a hat was making his way toward tonight’s game. Based on his body language, you would think he didn’t want to go, but in honesty, he was tentatively looking forward to it.

“Oh my god, another person!!” The voice of a woman caught his attention, pulling his gaze away from the lights in the distance. As he looked over, he took note of how clean she was, all glow and innocence compared to the world around her- a new arrival, clearly. But what truly surprised him was the fact that she was carrying a sleeping baby in her arms. It was rare to come across a child here, much less a baby. Perhaps it was her’s, which was why she hadn’t abandoned it yet, “You wouldn’t happen to be this baby’s father, would you? Or at the very least have seen anyone who could possibly be their parents?”

So it wasn’t her’s. The man wondered how long it would be until she gave up on it.

“No, sorry. I’m on my way to a game, so if you’ll excuse me,” He tipped his hat and took a step, only to feel his arm grabbed.

“Wait, what game? Should I be heading there too?”

“You… don’t know about the games? Are you new here?” He already knew the answer, but no point in signaling that to her. She may end up a Heart Specialist and get into his head, after all.

“Yes, actually! One moment, I was going to meet up with my friends, and the next, the entirety of Shibuya was powered down and empty except me and this little one here,” So she’d walked all this way from Shibuya in just a few hours? Maybe a Spades Specialist, then.

“Well then you should come with me. We need to get you registered for a game so you don’t end up a day one victim.”

“Woah, what?? Day one victim??” The color drained from her face, before she grabbed his hand and began walking, “What and where is this game? Is it Trivial Pursuit? Because I’m really good at Trivial Pursuit! Wait, but that’s a one winner game and this is looking more and more like the set up for a death game manga but in real life,” She looked back at him, “Did I get stuck in a death game manga but in real life?”

“Um…” He didn’t really know how to respond to this woman. Regaining his wits, he caught up to her brisk pace and pointed in the direction of the lights, “See those lights? That’s where the closest game is. And, yes, you unfortunately did…”

“Brilliant, let’s go,” She still held onto his hand as they walked, confusing the man. They were complete strangers and he’d just told her that she was walking towards her probable death, yet she continued to hold his hand as though they were allies.

Walking up to the glowing tunnel, the man spotted the registration phones on a table, three of them already missing. The already registered participants were scattered nearby, looking at them strangely. Did they perhaps think he, this woman, and the baby were a family? The thought almost flustered him.

“So what do I do?” The woman asked him when they got over to the table, “Just take one of these phones?”

“Yes, here,” Handing her one, he watched as she tapped to turn it on.

“I don’t like the fact that this facial recognition already had me registered with an ID number,” She scoffed, putting the phone in her skirt’s pocket before hesitating, “Wait, do I need to register this baby too? I mean, obviously I’m not gonna abandon it, but… they’re a baby, they can’t really play a game.”

“No, unfortunately they need to be registered… Here,” Picking up another phone, he held it up to the face of the babe, the ping of the completed registration sounding a moment later, “You keep hold of this one too, since you’re holding the baby.”

“Alright, sounds good to me,” Placing the other phone in her pocket, she cooed at the baby, “You better hope this isn’t Trivial Pursuit or I’m gonna have to kick your butt, baby~ That’s right, that’s right~”

“Please don’t taunt the baby like that. It’s… unnerving…” Nervously pulling on his collar, the man was surprised when she just laughed.

“Sorry, I cope with stress by joking around…” She placed a hand on the back of her neck as they walked over to the others, “The only way this baby isn’t surviving is if it’d be better to do a mercy killing. Other than that, I’m fighting tooth and nail to make sure they get through this with me.”

“You for real??” One of the men closest to them, with spiked, pitch dark hair, scoffed, “You really think you can keep a baby alive here? Put yourself first if you wanna live, lady!”

“Come on, don’t say that!” The woman snapped back, before taking a breath and calming down, “Here, how about we start over and introduce ourselves?”

“This could be a Hearts game, or the rules could state we need to kill each other,” The only other woman there, a stark, gothic contrast to the Mori girl aesthetic of the woman with the baby, stated coldly, “I’ll pass.”

“One minute until registration closes,” A calm, female voice suddenly came from all of their phones, startling the woman with the baby.

“Huh?” Taking out her phone, she looked it over, “Guess it speaks too… These are my least favorite part of this nightmare so far,” Then, she took note of the camera app, “Ooh! Hey, wanna take a selfie?”

“You want to… take a selfie with me?” The man she’d arrived with questioned her, utterly befuddled by this woman.

“Yeah, come on! This might be the last chance we ever get to take a good picture!” Moving in close, she held up the phone, making sure to get both them and the still sleeping baby in the shot, “Awesome! Thanks for indulging my possibly last request!”

“You are way too chipper, lady,” A new man spoke as he walked up. Short cropped hair with designs buzzed into it and a mean face, this man screamed gangster. In reaction, the woman held the baby tighter.

“Entry has now closed,” The phones spoke again, “There are a total of seven participants. Please proceed into the tunnel.”

“I just hope it’s not Spades… I’m not very good at physical games…” The man in the hat grumbled, causing the woman to raise an eyebrow as they walked into the tunnel. About 100 feet in, the woman suddenly stopped, “What’s the matter?”

“I hear something…” Straining her ears for a moment, she suddenly looked up at the top of the tunnel’s entrance.

“Wha?! What the hell?!” Just as the words left spiky haired man’s lips, a barrier fell from the ceiling, creating debris and, more importantly, blocking them in.

“UWAAAHHH!!!!” The baby had woken up due to the world shaking from the force of the barrier’s impact with the ground, only for the woman to pull out a pacifier from her purse and stick it in the infant’s mouth.

“Thank goodness I thought to grab that…”

“W-We’re trapped in??” Goth woman shouted, panic taking over, “But that isn’t the standard!!”

“Guess they really don’t want us to be able to choose the coward’s way out this game…” Gangster guy placed his hand on the wall.

“ARGHH!!” Everyone’s attention was directed to the man in the hat, who was sitting on the ground, blood gushing from his leg, “Some rubble… it went into my leg!!”

“On no!!” The woman with the baby was the first to react, rushing over to him, “Hold the baby, we need to wrap this up and restrict the blood flow!”

“O-Okay…!” Carefully, he took the baby, doing his best not to shake as she took an extra baby blanket out of her bag and used it to create a makeshift cotton bandage.

As she worked, their phones chimed again- “The game will now commence. Difficulty: Four of Clubs. Game: Runaway. Rule: Endure the four trials and reach the goal within the time limit. Clear condition: Reach the goal safely.”

“Trials? Goal? What’s it talking about?” The goth woman mumbled.

“It looks like these are the trials it’s referring to…” At a man in glasses words, everyone turned around and saw what he meant.

In the floor, walls, and ceiling were various doors and hatches. The first door was in a wall, marked ‘Trial One,’ with a timer stating the lock released in fifteen minutes. Next to that, several round hatches labeled ‘Trial Two’ were going to release in thirty minutes. Trial Three’s vents in the ceiling were releasing in forty five, and Four’s hatch on the floor was set to release in an hour.

Spiky haired man noticed a placard on the wall by Door One, and walked over to inspect it.

“The distance to the goal is written here… But I can’t read the most important part. Damnit…” Sure enough, where the number should be, instead was worn down metal.

Looking down at the ground somberly, Glasses stated, “A conjecture… ‘Runaway’ means to flee… Something will come out of each of these four doors after a delay. Perhaps it means we should run towards the goal while running away? If the fourth lock opens after an hour, and we were to run for that amount of time, then the distance to the goal is around ten kilometers…”

“Ten??”

“Game… start.”

At that moment, the timers started counting down, and their phones switched to an hour long timer as well.

“Ten kilometers in an hour is cutting it too close! We can’t afford to waste a second!” With that, everyone save the woman with the baby and the man in the hat started running.

“Can you stand?” The woman asked him as she took the baby back, genuinely concerned about this stranger.

“With help, I think I should be able to…”

“Hey, you lot! Care to help a lady out??”

“I make no promises that I’ll hold on to you till the end…” The gangster helped lift the man to allow the woman to continue carrying the baby safely.

“Thank you in the meantime…” The man got out through labored breaths as they walked.

Within the first five minutes, everyone reached a bus covered in graffiti, the first car they had seen since the game began. By the time the man, woman, and gangster got there, it seemed their fellow players had exhausted it.

“There’s nothing here except junk, and it’s not going no matter how hard I hit the gas!!!” Spiky hair complained as glasses looked underneath the bus.

“The belt is cut, that’s why. Looks like this isn’t meant to be our method of transportation…” Getting up, he began running, “Looks like we have to run! We lost time here, so let’s hurry!”

“Gaaah!! I’m at my limit… There’s no way I could run…” The man in the hat groaned, “Don’t worry about me anymore, you all should hurry on ahead…”

“But-!”

“It’s like he says,” Goth woman cut off the other, “The first trial is about to start… In order to survive in these Borderlands, sometimes we have to do callous things. If you don’t learn that quick, you won’t be long for this world,” With that, she began running as well.

For a moment, the man, woman, and gangster didn’t move, until the gangster helped the man over to the first step of the bus and set him down before walking away.

“You too??” The woman angrily called out after him, “You’re going to desert us??”

“I tried helping… But now, things have changed…” He picked up speed, quickly catching up to the others.

“Selfish cowards!!” She yelled, shaking her fist at them. Sighing, she turned to the man, “Guess it’s just you and me, huh?”

“Are you sure? You should go run-”

“Nuh uh. I’ve decided I’m staying here, so I’m staying here,” Scooting around him, the woman gently placed the baby into the dip of the driver’s seat before helping the man up and to a seat so he could prop up his leg, “Let’s see…”

“What are you doing?” He raised an eyebrow as he watched her go up and down the bus.

“In order to slow the flow of blood more until we can get you help, we need to raise your leg. By doing that, the blood will- Here-” She took the baby and handed them to him again before looking around more, “The blood won’t be able to pump up there as fast, and it should give us some wiggle room.”

“You seem awfully knowledgeable about this. Are you perhaps a doctor?”

“Hah, no, I just remember a lot. Picked this up from a medical book I read when I was sixteen for fun. I’m actually a Masters student working towards simultaneous degrees in Psychology and Religion with a focus in cults,” Before the man could comment on how impressive that was, the woman sighed, “I’ve found a Japanese to English dictionary, a space heater, a set of keys that turn on this motionless bus, and a gum wrapper, but nothing to prop up your leg,” Sitting in the chair across the row from him, the woman took the baby back and gently bounced it, “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see what happens…”

“I’m sorry I’ve dragged you down with me…”

“Nonsense!” She waved her hand dismissively, “I’m not much of a runner, and I’ve got this little angel to look after. There’s no way I could run to some mysterious goal even if I wanted to. Besides…” Her eyes shifted back and forth before leaning in and dropping her voice as though they were being watched, “Something about this game is striking me as odd.”

“What do you mean?” The man leaned in as best as he could, voice dropping as well.

“Before I tell you my theory, could you explain what exactly the card level of this game means? You said you hoped this game wasn’t Spades because you weren’t good at physical games, while the woman stated we shouldn’t tell each other our names in case it was a Hearts game. That means the different suits represent different types of games, while the number represents how hard it is, right?”

“You picked that up quickly. Most people don’t realize that their first game, it generally takes someone explaining it to them their second or third game for them to get it,” Thinking for a moment, he nodded, “Very well, since we’re going to be here for at least an hour, I’ll tell you. Yes, the number on the card connotes how hard the game will be, with Ace being the easiest, while King is the hardest. As for the suits- Spades represent physical games, lots of moving around and exertion. Diamond games are intelligence and wit based games, and are the least physically demanding. If you were to find a game of Trivial Pursuit here, it would fall into that suit.”

“I see,” She sounded enraptured.

“Hearts,” He paused, considering his words, “They’re psychological games…  They mess with your mind and your morals, and are widely regarded as the most brutal of the four suits. If possible, you do not want to join a Hearts game.”

“And Clubs?”

“Clubs games like this one refer to team battles and a mix of the other’s elements. It’s an unofficial rule that there is always a total win scenario, that it’s possible for all participants to make it out alive.”

“Then that puts us at an advantage!” She nodded decisively, “If Clubs are a team battle, then by sticking together, we have a better chance at survival!”

“But we’re just sitting in a bus?”

“Look mister, I’m trying to remain positive here, so if you could work with me a little?”

“Alright, alright,” The man put his hands up, chuckling. From the sound of it, it was an unfamiliar noise to come from his mouth, “We’re at an advantage because we stuck together while the others are only thinking of themselves.”

“That’s the spirit!” She held out her hand for a fist bump, which the man would have returned, had it not been for the bus suddenly lurching forward, “The hell??”

“UWAAHHH!!!” The motion woke up the baby again, but neither the man or the woman had time to calm them down again, as water was quickly rising around their enclosure and leaking in through some gaps in the windows.

“Oh no, you take Yuuji, I’ll stop the water!” Handing the baby to the man, the woman began to shed layers of clothes, using her jacket, cardigan, tights to plug the gaps. In the end, she was left in just a camisole and her torn up skirt, having even used parts of that to slow the water, “There, that should keep us relatively dry as long as the water goes down soon.”

“You called the child ‘Yuuji,’” The man commented, a bit surprised.

“Huh? I did, didn’t I?” Laughing sheepishly, the woman sat back down, “Don’t know why, they’re not my kid. I don’t even know if they’re male or female.”

“Well, I suppose they do look like a Yuuji,” He looked down at where he was bouncing the slightly calmer baby on his shoulder, “Can I ask why you chose to take this baby with you? You even grabbed their diaper bag.”

“Guess I felt bad about them being abandoned by their parents,” She shrugged, “Something just told me I needed to hold onto them and protect them; which makes no sense, given that it’s not like I grew up with great parental role models.”

“Maybe you just possess a natural maternal instinct, bad parents or not.”

“Who knows? Maybe you’re right.”

For several minutes, neither of them said anything as the man calmed down the baby, lulling them back to sleep.

“It seems as though the water is going down,” The man finally commented, the woman looking out the window to see that they were no longer surrounded.

“Yeah, but now it seems like the temperature is dropping fast!” The woman was right, the air was indeed getting colder, “I’ll go turn on that space heater before Yuuji wakes up again!”

“Sounds good to me.”

With the space heater on, the bus quickly warmed back up, keeping the baby asleep in the man’s arms.

“This cold must be the… how much time has passed?” Looking at her phone’s timer, the woman's brow furrowed, “Forty five minutes?? When the heck did the first trial happen??”

“We must have missed it somehow while we were talking.”

“Weird. Maybe it just passed right by us,” The woman didn’t let it bother her too much, just grateful to have not had to deal with it. Silence passed for a few more minutes as the woman held the baby, before she spoke again, “Okay, something’s been on my mind for the last half an hour, and I gotta know before we die… You were totally faking your personality when we got here, right?”

“H-Huh??” The man’s eyes widened, and he could feel his pulse quicken.

“Acting timid and stuff. Fake, right?”

“I… I…” Sighing, he looked her in the eyes, “How’d you know?”

“I sorta guessed around the time you told me about the suits. Your speech pattern started getting more eloquent, your sentences became longer, and you didn’t bat an eye at the fact that I’m working towards two Masters degrees at the same time. That last thing doesn’t really have to do with the timid thing, but it did tell me that you’re smarter than you seemed. That accident with your leg was very real, something you didn’t account for that truly did leave you near helpless; but before that, it was all strategy so we’d underestimate you in case this turned out to be a single winner game.”

“That’s… phenomenally impressive,” He stared at her in awe, “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“Because I’ve been having fun talking with you and didn’t want to make it awkward,” Laughing, she shrugged, “But my natural curiosity got the better of me. I want to die with as few regrets as possible, and I’d regret not getting to see your actual personality,” Tears welled up in her eyes, and she kissed the top of the baby’s head, “I hope however this ends is clean and painless. I doubt it would happen, but if my family were to ever find my body, I wouldn’t want their last image of me to be tainted by something like decapitation, y’know?”

“Yes, I… I understand,” Moving closer, the man took the woman’s hand and squeezed it gently, “I promise you, if we survive this, I’ll do whatever I can to help you survive long enough to reunite with your family.”

“Aww, thanks,” She smiled sadly at him, “That means a lot. You’re a really nice guy, even if you are a crafty strategist.”

“I-”

KABOOM!!!!

An explosion violently shook the bus, causing the baby to once again wake up and cry.

“Quickly, on the ground!” The man pulled the woman and baby into his arms and got on the ground, shielding them with his body as the bus continued to shake. It seemed to go on forever, the shaking, as the bus grew warmer and warmer, far warmer than the heat the space heater would have been able to produce. But, finally, the shaking did stop, and the world became quiet outside of the baby’s cries, “Are you two alright?”

“Y-Yeah, I think so,” After she was helped up by the man, the woman grabbed the baby’s pacifier and returned it to their mouth, “That was the fourth trial, right?”

“I believe so,” He nodded, looking out the window, “All I can see are scorch marks, so I can’t tell, though.”

A little fanfare like tune emitting from their phones answered them, however.

“Game clear. Congratulations! To the survivors of the game, we will now supply you with a Visa.”

“G-Game clear?” The woman’s eyes widened in surprise, “You mean… we won? But that would mean…” Handing the baby to the man, she threw open the door to the bus and hopped out, running around the bus, almost immediately spotting the confirmation she sought, “The goal… It was the bus…”

“It was the bus??” The man limped out of the bus, handing the woman the baby due to feeling shaky as he saw what she’d found, “The graffiti… G-O-A-L… Dear lord…”

“Your injury saved us,” Tears flowed down the woman’s cheeks as she suddenly hugged the man, laughing almost manically, “It saved us! I don’t normally believe in luck, but tonight I think I’ll make an exception!”

“I can’t believe it, though! You were right!” The man laughed as well, “We stuck together as a team instead of only thinking of ourselves, and we survived!”

“Wait- oh no!” Pulling away, the woman frowned, “Those poor people that ran on ahead!! They… If the trials didn’t kill them, then… what did?”

“Anyone who breaks a rule like leaving an arena before the game is over or doesn’t achieve game clear… They’re struck down by a laser from the sky…” His words cause the woman to gasp, a hand covering her mouth, “I hope for their sake, their deaths were as clean and painless as the one you had wished for…”

Taking his hand, she squeezed it gently, “I’ll carry their memories with me, and push forward. As ill as they treated us, I can only hope that wherever they are, they find peace.”

“You’re an incredibly kind woman, Miss…?”

“Oh wow, we never did introduce ourselves, huh? If we’re gonna be sticking together, we should probably at least know the other’s name,” Wiping away her tears, she laughed, “My name is Y/N L/N, Y/A years old, Masters student, and guardian of this little angel until further notice. It’s nice to meet you, Mister…?”

“Kuzuryuu. Keiichi Kuzuryuu, 37 years old, attorney at law, and Diamond Specialist here in the Borderlands. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Miss L/N.”

“Please, we just nearly died together! You can call me Y/N. Mind if I call you Kuzu?” She looked at him so hopefully that he couldn’t find it in himself to refuse her.

“Alright, you may call me ‘Kuzu’… Y/N.”

“Excellent! Now let’s get out of this place! I’m tired and we need to get you off that leg.”

“I believe I saw a furniture store near here that we could use as shelter before finding something better tomorrow,” He offered as she helped him limp out of the tunnel, the barrier to the outside having been blown off in the explosion.

“Perfect, let’s go there. There’s some supplies to take care of Yuuji in this diaper bag I grabbed, but we’ll need to find some more tomorrow as well.”

“Sounds good to me.”

An hour later, as Y/N and Yuuji slept soundly in one of the spacious beds on display in the furniture store, Kuzuryuu stood outside and pulled out a walkie talkie.

“HQ, please respond. This is Four of Club’s observer, Kuzuryuu,” Taking off his hat, he pushed back his hair and slipped on his glasses, “Surviving players- two of six. Dispatch the cleanup squad to deal with the disposal of tools and materials.”

“Copy that, sir. Anything else?”

“Yes… Tell the others I won’t be back for a while,” He looked back through the doors to where Y/N and Yuuji slept, a small smile on his lips, “I have a player I’d like to place my bets on.”

Y/N L/N

Clubs Specialist

End of Day One of Sojourn

[ramzawrites]

IronGolem!Hybrid!Reader - Protector - Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

Male

Pairings: none

Characters included: Quackity, Fundy, Tubbo, Punz, Technoblade, Philza, Dream

Warnings: blood, character death, cursing

Series: Part of my Iron Golem request series! 💙

Summary: Y/N helped the Butcher Army to escort Techno towards his trial only for this trial to turn into a surprise execution. An execution that finally gives Y/N the chance to flee that he was so desperately looking for, all along. Even if others had to push him towards this opening.

Words count: 2684

Authors Note: Woops I thought this would be the last part but there will be a part 4 after all o7

As they begun moving Techno followed along quietly. Never pulling on the chains, just dutifully following behind Y/N. His eyes mostly trained on the horse that Quackity was now riding.

They walked back to where they left their horses and got back up on theirs. Y/N got Quackity’s horse and let Techno on it, leading that horse along as he rode his own black steed. Sometimes petting his horse, his rough hands weaving through the long black mane, more as a way to calm himself down rather than the horse.

Riding between Quackity who was at the front while both Fundy and Tubbo stayed at Techno’s side while Ranboo stayed at the end of the group. Ensuring that Techno didn’t try anything too stupid.

Throughout the whole ride Fundy and Quackity began taunting Techno, Tubbo would occasionally chime in as well while both Y/N and Ranboo stayed quiet.

It surprised Y/N a bit that Techno actually responded to some taunts with his own snide remarks that would usually shut the other party up, for a short moment at least. He certainly had his wits about him.

Y/N couldn’t help but look up to Technoblade in a sense. He himself was escorted away in a similar manner but other than Techno, he immediately gave up and just followed along with his captors. Not even saying a word against them and while Techno did follow them along as well, he still talked back, made them feel stupid about their own thoughtless comments.

And Y/N enjoyed the frustrated exclamations of the group whenever Techno made one of his targeted comments. This was not a good situation for the warrior but he kept his dignity and a part of control and power in this situation.

Technoblade was strong and Y/N was not.

No, Y/N was weak willed and naïve. He should have fought more. Tried to escape or tried to send along a message to his home, to his people. Should have asked Ranboo to maybe check up on the town, after all he seemed to be the most reasonable one of the group but he didn’t. He was too scared and just gave up. What kind of protector was he?

Then again, he couldn’t fight, and he had to work with what he can do. Sometimes staying alive was the best and even most rebellious thing someone can do. Maybe if he was just patient enough, he would find a chance to flee! Though whenever this thought crossed his mind he feared that he had missed his one chance already due to his cowardice.

It didn’t take long for them to reach L’Manberg. Getting off the horses to walk back into the town middle. Y/N still holding the chains that were keeping Techno’s wrists bound.

As they walked further into the town, they passed Philza’s home.

The winged man stood on his upper balcony, staring down with a cold expression “You actually got him.”

“Get inside! You are on house arrest!” Tubbo just yelled back as an answer but Techno turned to face his friend, pulling on the chains in the process. Y/N pulled them back again, scared with what could happen next.

“Phil! Phil! What did they do to you!”

Fundy got his axe back out and pushed the flat side against Techno side, urging him to keep on going. This unspoken threat seemed to be enough for him to ignore his old friend and instead continued to follow Y/N who in return followed Quackity and Tubbo.

Though as Y/N pulled his gaze away from Philza, he could see a fond softness in his eyes. Worry mixed with anger. It was the first time he saw genuine emotion on his face, rather than the forced smiles he portrayed usually.

“Lead him up there, keep the chains around his wrists in there and stand close by.” Tubbo ordered the Iron Golem Hybrid, pointing at what looked like a cage right beneath a strange structure that Y/N couldn’t immediately make out what it was for.

But there was a foreboding feeling in the air.

Y/N opened up the door and without a word Techno just walked inside. The gate crashed shut again.

He could finally let go off the chain that he held on to. Dropping it as soon as he could. But the feeling of disgust stayed or maybe it was guilt. Maybe a mix. The less he thought about it the better, so instead Y/N just concentrated on Tubbo who begun a speech.

What kind of trials does L’Manberg have?

This wasn’t really a trial was it?

“Hey, Y/N, right?”

Y/N didn’t respond but stared at Techno from the corners of his eyes. Why was he talking to him? How should he react? Should he even react? Would the others hurt him if he visibly reacted?

“I know of you. You were-“

Though Technoblade didn’t finish his sentence. Smoke appeared in front of the stage and a person covered in armor appeared. They wore a white hoodie with netherite armor on top. Not even waiting a beat as they begun to attack the Butcher Army with their axe and crossbow.

Tubbo pulled his shield in front of his face, barely catching the arrow that came flying directly towards his face “Pull the lever, Big Q!”

Lever? What lever?

Even Techno seemed surprised letting out a quite frankly comical confused noise.

There was no hesitation on Quackity’s side. He immediately sprinted towards the structure and pulled the lever. Y/N could see a redstone pulse running up the build.

What the hell was going on?

Technoblade pushed his hands into his pocket, pulling out a small golden figure. Y/N couldn’t see it very well, but he immediately knew what it was.

A totem of undying.

Surprised Y/N stared at Techno only to see something black falling down.

He completely tuned out the sound of the fighting and screaming, his senses concentrated on Technoblade. His eyes directed at the black anvil that was flying with incredible speed down towards the cage.

Before Y/N could properly process what was happening, or the implications of this whole ordeal, the anvil was already on his eye level.

It connected with Techno’s skull with a sickening wet crack, immediately followed by an explosion of green light. It was so bright Y/N had to shield his eyes with his arms. Surprised by the warmth that came off the magic that engulfed Technoblade and revitalized his body. Pulling him away from the land of the dead and stitching his broken body back together.

As fast as the light appeared, it was just as fast gone. Y/N removed his arms and saw Techno jumping off the anvil and over the iron bars.

The man literally, just died but he didn’t waste any time to flee once he had the chance. Was it jealousy or admiration Y/N felt? He didn’t know, either way he was impressed.

While Y/N seemed to be a bit dazed, still trying to process this, Techno used the chance in between the chaos all around them to take a look around only to spot a masked man leading his horse away.

“He has Carl!”

He then proceeded to grab Y/N’s forearm and pulled him along. Techno’s grip was strong and unrelenting. Pressing down uncomfortably on a few burns that were just beginning to heal properly hence why Y/N’s first reaction was to pull his arm away, but the Pig Hybrid was holding on. Not giving him a chance to protest.

Why did Techno do this? Why did he tug him along? He clearly knew of Y/N but how? What did he know?

So, the best option was to follow him, right into a little opening at the side of a hill. Inside there was a room, lined with chests and another opening that seemed to lead into tunnels.

But what really caught Y/N’s attention was the man that held the reigns of Carl. A white porcelain mask with a smiling face hid away his face. A cloak hiding his physique and probably weapons.

Once inside the room Techno let go off Y/N to snarl “Dream, give me Carl.”

This masked man was the infamous Dream? His green hood was pulled up, the mask looked already unsettling but with the added shadow of the hood? As he stared at Y/N it felt like he was sizing him up. As if to wager something out.

Once again Y/N felt incredibly small under someone else’s gaze.

Dream slowly got closer and gave Techno the reigns of Carl “You brought him with you? I’m surprised, Techno.”

Techno walked up to Carl and pressed his forehead against that of the horses as a greeting “I don’t think we have the time to talk about this Dream, besides weren’t you the one trying to get him out of there?”

“Yes, I suppose you are correct. We don’t have the time to talk about this though. You two better get going. There should also be some armor and potions in one of the chests. And Y/N?” Dream turned towards him now “We’ll meet again, I promise you. You will get your revenge.” With that he ran off through the opening that Techno previously pulled Y/N in.

Techno rummaged through one of the chests. Letting out a disappointed sigh as he spotted some iron armor. With trained movements he slipped surprisingly fast into the clunky armor. Fastening it around himself and hooking the potions to his belt.

Hooves clicked on the stone ground as Techno lead Carl towards the tunnels “Not to put too much pressure on you but if you want to get out of this mess you better come with me.” Techno’s eyes rested calmly on Y/N. He was serious and looked like he was calculating something but there was something genuine and almost friendly mixed in.

“I- uh, understood.”

This honestly felt unreal. Like a dream. Though Y/N hasn’t decided yet if this was just another nightmare. It felt like a trap. Too convenient but what could he do? Run back out towards the city? He can’t fight like Dream or Techno, he wouldn’t get the chance to flee. Besides they would just capture him again and he didn’t want to think about how he might be treated afterwards.

His best bet really was with Technoblade but why he would do this for him after he escorted him to his own execution, he didn’t know.

Hell, how did he even know of him?

“Now, Y/N.”

Techno just begun moving into the tunnels. Y/N made sure to stay close. A spark of hope inside his chest. Something he hasn’t felt in ages. Is it okay if he takes this spark and holds it close? Just in case it breaks out into a fire?

Almost as if to answer this question both Techno and Y/N heard a voice coming from behind them. It wasn’t Dream’s. No, Y/N knew this voice too well. It was Quackity. Quackity has found him and would bring him back.

That spark seemed to dim after all.

“What the fuck is this? What is this Techno? How the fuck did that Anvil not kill you? And now you are stealing my things? Stealing my blacksmith?”

Techno let out a cackling laugh as he made sure to stand in front of Y/N. Grasping the hilt of his netherite pickaxe in one of his hands.

“Listen here Quackity. I tried telling you that the root of the problems here was government! I fought alongside you to show you! And you used me! So, I retaliated with force, to prove my point but you still formed a government! After that I was content with getting away from it! I tried to retire! I swore off violence! You still hunted me down! You-“

He moved his head around a bit, looking at Y/N from the corner of his eyes only to snap back to Quackity “You hurt my friends!”

Quackity didn’t seem to have noticed this but Y/N did. Techno referred to Y/N as his friend? He somehow felt like he was missing some vital piece of information. Never in his life has he even talked with him before this. Maybe he really just meant the horse, it stood off to the other side but surely, he must have only meant Carl. Perhaps Philza as well? Yes, those he must have meant. No way did he group Y/N in there as well.

Not after he was the one who escorted Techno away from his peaceful life with chains around his wrists.

Quackity bit down on his lip in anger before he answered “Techno, I don’t care about that. All that I care about is that you are on my hit list.”

“Hit list? What kind of Hit list?”

“I’m building up a nation and this nation needs direction, organization and I swear no matter what it fucking takes me, I will fucking kill you.”

Once again Techno laughed “Quackity, do you really think you are enough to kill me? Even unarmored and only in iron armor?”

At this point Y/N was straight up jealous at Techno’s confidence and cockiness. He would have just cowered in fear, given up but Techno did not. He stood strong, calm. Like a boulder between turbulent waters.

That spark that seemed to dim inside of him seemed to flare up again. If he just stayed close to Techno and trusted in him, maybe he is allowed to hope. Just this once.

Obviously Quackity tried to stay calm and collected beforehand but this seemed to push him over the edge “So be it! I’ll fucking kill you right here and now!”

He immediately took his axe out and jumped towards Techno who confidently blocked the attack with his pickaxe. With a simple twist of his arm and body, he hooked Quackity weapon with his own and then used his whole body to pull it out of his hands.

The axe flew through the air, landing with a loud clanging on the ground in front of Y/N. He didn’t think much about it as he slowly stretched his hand out and grabbed it. Holding the weapon close to himself. Seeing how he couldn’t fight, this weapon would be useless in his hands but at least he could ensure that Quackity didn’t pick it up again.

It was the first time he rebelled against him. It was the first time he took some sort of control over this situation. He did not give up. He did something.

As he looked up he could see a shocked Quackity.

“I only have this pickaxe, Quackity, but I’ll put it through your teeth!”

There was this bloodlust to his words. A malice that Y/N expected from Techno before he met him. As his only idea of him was that what the butcher army told him.

He realized that their stories relied on a kernel of truth though in this moment he wasn’t scared of this Techno. No, he saw pain, self-preservation and conviction in his actions right now.

Quackity evaded one of Techno’s attacks only for his second to hit. Hitting his open mouth with the pickaxe and dragging it across his face. Resulting in Quackity to fall down motionless. Blood spilling to the ground as his body slowly dissolved into gold dust. He was respawning.

Technoblade just took Quackity’s first life. Just like that. It went over so fast. Like it was nothing.

Without seemingly missing a beat he turned around to look Y/N dead in the eyes, now calm again “We need to go. Now. I’ll explain everything to you once we are safe. I promise.”

He didn’t even wait for an answer and instead begun leading Carl through the tunnel again.

Y/N took a second to stare at the dissolving Quackity only for Techno to pull him back out of his thoughts “Y/N!”

“Why are you helping me. Just- Just tell me this. I’ll follow you, I promise, but I need to know.”

Techno sighed “Because how couldn’t we? How can you see injustice and not do anything?”

____

Tag: @plaguedoctorsnake

[i-cant-sing]

Yandere red hood with an Christmas angel/ghost s/o? A twits on the Christmas carol story? Please

Christmas Carol: Yandere Jason Todd

I had to read the story's summary on Wikipedia for this. Literally jeopardising my studies for this. :')

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Yandere Jason Todd:

Jason doesn't know when he saw you. Was it when he was dying? Or when he was dead? Or when he was in Lazarus pit, coming back from the dead? He knows, he knew even when you visited him in his "dreams", that its not real. That you weren't actually there with him when he saw it all. The past, the present, the future. But what he experienced during this period was eye opening for him.

In his "vision", he was visited by you. Or something that looked like you. You had a bright glow around your body. He thinks there might have been a halo too but he's not sure. All he remembers is that you looked holy. Like an angel. You walked towards his bloody body, and you caressed his cheek, and all the pain disappeared. "(Y/n)? What- what are you doing here?" With a soft smile, you said to him "its okay. I'm here to help you." "What? You need to get out of here, (Y/n)-" but you cut him off, "come with me Jason." A bright light flashed before his eyes and suddenly he was outside a cafe. Jason was perplexed. How the hell did he get here? And where is he? The latter question was soon answered when you appeared by his side, a calm smile gracing your face. "Do you remember how we met?" He followed your gaze, looking inside the cafe. There you were, looking as dead as possible with a customer screaming in your face. And then he, or well past he, walked in the cafe and saw the commotion. Jason butted in and intimidated the customer, making him leave the cafe. You smiled and thanked Jason, giving him his coffee on the house. And just like that, you guys became friends. He would frequent your workplace a lot at first, making you laugh with his corny jokes. You were a cool friend, in Jason's eyes. A sweet girl really. Your friendship became even stronger when you found out that he was Red Hood and promised to keep that information to yourself.

The scene changed before his eyes as another flash of white occurred; now he was in your apartment. Jason looked around your apartment, and located you when you came out of your bedroom. Opening the lounge window, you let a dark figure in. It was him again. You had allowed Jason to let himself in your apartment during his patrols for some coffee breaks. You were a great barista. You and his past self were talking about random stuff, as you guys usually would. "Do you remember what happened that day?"your angelic form appeared beside him. What happened? Jason looked at the scene in front of him. You were laughing at his jokes again, his past self was looking at you with pure adoration in his eyes. Jason remembers now. He stepped forward to stop his past self but you called him back. "They can't see us Jason" you replied. And so, Jason had to relive the embarrassing moment again. He confessed his feelings for you that day. He thought you felt the same way, but you didn't. You turned him down, as politely as you could. He was a little hurt but he didn't take it to heart. And you were glad for that. You didn't want to lose a good friend and neither did he. So you both continued on with life as if that night never happened.

As Jason wondered why you were showing him his past and whether he was really dead, a bright flash came again. This time he was again in your apartment, but it was all dark. He could hear sobs coming from your bedroom. Panicked, he hurried in there, and the sight broke him.

There you were on your bed, crying yourself out. Your eyes were all red, lips all wobbly, your face flushed and puffy. Your pillow damp with your tears, as your body racked with your sobs. You were having trouble breathing. Taking in little breaths before you continued crying. His heart clenched in pain. A phone in your hands as you stared at your screen. Why were you crying? Jason moved to see what was on your phone, ready to beat up whoever put you in this state. It was him. You were looking at pictures of him. You played a video of you both laughing and talking about random stuff. Was he- was he really dead? This time, Jason didn't even have to look away from you before angel you came beside him. He fisted his hands in anger. "Why am I here?" You sighed, resting your head on his shoulder. "I'm just trying to help you. Look at her. What your absence has done to her. Your death has caused this, Jason." You confirmed his suspicions. This was the present. And he really was dead. "Take me back. I don't want to be here anymore."he whispered. "Just one more stop." You told him, before yet another blinding flash occurred.

This time he was on a street. Looking around, he knew this was the bad part of town. He hoped you weren't wandering around here. And that's when he heard it. Your scream. It came from the old warehouse in front of him. He dashed towards it, anxiety and fear kicking in as to what he was about to witness. He heard him before he saw him. His laugh. Joker was here. With you. As he bashed through the doors, he wished he could gouge his own eyes out. There you laid on the floor. Your body bearing witness to the torture you had been put through, body violated in all ways possible. Joker was...mutilating you now. He was now cutting your legs off. And you were both screaming and laughing. Your eyes full of tears as you howled in laughter. He must've tortured you mentally. Jason tried to stop him. He tried to get Joker off you, but his body just went through. Jason felt like he stopped breathing. Suddenly, you turned your bloodied head towards him, looking him straight in the eyes. A scared look appeared on your face. Like a little girl. "Jason." You whispered, reaching out for him with your hand, before you stopped breathing, arm falling down. Your eyes were empty. Time had stopped. Jason didn't realise he was crying until you, or angel you came to him and wiped them. "She's dead?"Jason barely managed to whisper. You shook your head, "she will be. This happens in her future. A future without you. She doesn't have anyone to protect her. You need to be there for her Jason." "But I did. She doesnt want to be with me-" Jason replied but then you interrupted him. "Then look what happened to her. She needs you. You need to make her realise that she needs you. Do whatever you must in order to protect her. Save her from this fate, Jason. Or be prepared to see her lifeless eyes again." Jason looked at you. Something snapped in mind when he looked at your dead body. But your words delivered the final blow. You can't be dead. You need to be saved from this filthy world. He'd rather die again then let anything ever to you. "Do you understand, Jason?" Jason's eyes hardened, an unreadable expression on his face. "I understand. Take me back."

And then Jason woke up in Lazarus pit. He had been resurrected. But his main concern was you. As soon as he was healed enough, Jason went to look for you. Turns out you had left the city. You were still alive and that's all that mattered.

It was Christmas by the time Jason had found you. He was in your apartment, waiting for you. You had gone to a friends Christmas party. Jason snooped around your bedroom, collecting all the stuff you'll be needing when you'll live with him.

Of course he was going to take you. You need to be protected. He can't let his nightmare come true. He'd rather die.

You still had a framed picture of you and him by your bedside table. Once Jason heard the door knob jingle, he hid himself in the shadows of your room. You entered your room, still on cloud 9 from the party to notice Jason. As per routine, you said "hey Jason."to the picture frame on your table. Precious. Jason moved out of the shadows, before saying "hey princess".

My fav boy. Anyways, hope you guys liked this. Requests are OPEN but, BUT, my inbox is full of deathnote requests and I will write them, but alternating them with other fandom requests. So send requests for fandoms other than deathnote. :)

[2-cute-4-school]

NCT Dream reaction to you getting your wisdom teeth removed

Mark

babysitting the dreamies is part of his daily job so he thinks ‘how hard can it be to take care of you for a few hours pffft’

he’s never regretted underestimating you so bad in his entire life ◑.◑

you’re not just a nightmare

you’re THE ULTIMATE NIGHTMARE

he was so embarrassed when he had to gently drag you out of the dentist’s office while you were crying cuz

“mY TOOTH!! mark, i lost my tooth, what am i gonna do?!?! i should have put a leash on it, i knew it!!!! now it’s gone and it’s all my fault!!!!” (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )

*ugly sobbing* *mark awkwardly patting your back while pulling you away from the scrutinizing glares of a few karens in the waiting room*

“mark. i didn’t even get to name it!!!”

poor bby cheetah mark is SO lost

“baby, hey, don’t cry! we’ll uh…. i’ll get you a new one!” ヾ(ﾟДﾟ;ヾ)

you look up with your glassy eyes and your right cheek chubbier than your left from the cotton lodged where your tooth used to be, your bottom lip trembling oh so cutely 

and mark just…stops functioning for a moment because

‘HOW CAN ANYONE BE SO CUTE BUT SUCH A PAIN IN THE ASS AT THE SAME TIME IT’S NOT FAIR !!??!?!?’

“ rweally? would you really do that for me, markie?” (◞‸◟；)

“ASFKSFRDACGCS YES LOML ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING JUST SAY THE WORD AND I’LL BRING THE MOON TO YOUR FEET YOU PRECIOUS LIL BABY” ⊂（♡⌂♡）⊃

 and he still insists he’s not 120% whipped for you can you believe it

he ends up piggybacking you all the way back home because your giggles were just too cute for him to resist so he can’t even get tired with how happy he is to witness you so carefree and joyful

and his heart just melts when you leave a huuuge kith with the loudest *MWAH* ever on his cheek and you nuzzle your nose in the crook of his neck that’s like the fatal combination of cute acts ʚ♡⃛ɞ(ू•ᴗ•ू❁)

in conclusion : this man just adores you with every bit of his heart :((((

Renjun

probably asked kun to pick you both up from the dentist 

you’re just too much for him smh

you’re cute and all but renjun is a tired uncle

so you’re both in the backseat with kun as your driver and it’s silent

renjun just knows something is wrong there’s no way you’re so calm 

but you’re just staring at him like ◎_◎

“uh..babe, you alright?”

silence and then *GASP*

renjun just knows he’s about to facepalm himself into another dimension when you grip his cheeks in both hands

“you’re a fAIRY!!!!!!!” (*ﾟﾛﾟ)

*sigh* *muffled words* “y/n let’s calm down and just-”

he doesn’t get another word out before you shove his face in your lap and literally raise his shirt up to the nape of his neck

damn beach you know what you want huh go off

“where are they???!!?!?! where are you hiding them you impostor??!!!?”

and then you start slapping his back

“ow ow OW, Y/N WTF ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?? STOP !!”

“YOUR WINGS!!! WHERE ARE YOUR FRICKIN’ WINGS ?!?!?” (╬ Ò ‸ Ó)

renjun is this 👌 close to knocking you out for good with a karate chop

so he just pushes you off and straps you to your seat with a second safety belt as he huffs under his breath

“i can’t guarantee you’ll live to see next week” (⊙_◎)

kun watching in the rear mirror like （͡°͜ʖ͡°）

“you know what? i’d really eat some chicken wings right now!! jun, let’s go get chicken wings!!!” ⊂((・▽・))⊃

he’s surprised you even remember his name

but you eventually exhaust yourself and pass out in the backseat of the car so renjun and kun drag you to bed 

and renjun just tucks you in like the soft loving boyfriend that he is

and he just stares at you fondly and smooches you all over your face cuz

“how tf can you be so cute, you lil overexcited evil? you’re like the cutest thing in the world and it just!!!not!!!fair!!!!!” (♡ ‸ ♡ )

so even though he complains about you a lot, he’d sell his kidney just to see his lil cute bub happy i’m so soft :((((

Lee Jeno

“let’s go to the playground!!”

“y/n, no, let’s go home and put some ice on that cheek”

“but baaaabe i wanna go one the swing” ( ´•̥̥̥ω•̥̥̥` )

“then we’ll have to ice both cheeks”

“what did ya say???!!?!”

so jeno’s headache only worsened once you both arrived home with no prior stop to the playground

and as much as he loves you he also wants to bang his head against a wall and end his suffering yay o((*^▽^*))o

“just stay still for a second please, i’m really trying to tie this thing properly around your head”

you’re just so restless and jeno is just so done

“does it hurt?”

“ywes, my heart hurts because my own boyfriend doesn’t love me!!!”

“y/n, we already had this conversation, now just-”

“i just wanted a swing!!!” *bursts into tears* *jeno sighs half of his soul out* ଽ (৺ੋ ௦ ৺ੋ )৴

so jeno sits down beside you and pulls you into his lap gently, rocking you back and forth in an attempt to soothe your sobs jeno best boyfriend no cap

“there there, baby, we can’t go out-” *sobs intensify* “BUT i promise i’ll get you a swing right here if you let me take care of you first”

you leech yourself onto jeno’s sleeve and wipe your tears on his shirt but he doesn’t seem to mind the wet patch left on the material as he watches you with that soft look of his (´-ω-`)

so you let him patch you up after his reassurance and after he just pats your head affectionately and motions for you to stand up

and this man just flexes his arms and nudges you to latch on

that’s how jeno ends up with a squealing you as you swing back and forth with your fingers gripping his arm ╰(✧∇✧╰)

Lee Haechan

you want to pretty him up

because “since my left cheek looks like it’s stuffed with a tennis ball, i can’t carry the visuals in this relationship for a while, so i need to hand the responsibility over to you”

“who even said you’re the one carrying the visuals” ℃ↂ_ↂ

“oh honey you’re only now realizing?”

(╬☉д⊙)⊰⊹ฺ

he blames the anesthesia for your severe accusations

but the only way to shut you up is give in to your wishes

so that’s how he found himself seated down on the carpet of your home with your legs draped over his and your totally professional make up applied over his face

“i look like a clown”

“not even make up can cover your true identity, hyuck”

deep breaths, donghyuck, in and out, take it easy (◎ω◎*)

“any preferences for the nail polish color?”

“to match my soul”

“so hot pink” o(≧∇≦o)

*poker face* “you know i could obliviate you if i wanted to clown you”

*pout that hurts hyuck’s lil heart* “but you wouldn’t do that to your hurting baby, would you” *blinks rapidly with puppy eyes*

“you bet i would” (no he wouldn’t you’re just too cute and he loves you too much) *totally not whipped (♥ω♥*)*

painting his nails is the hugest struggle in your entire life

“WHY TF ARE THEY SO SHORT, ARE THEY TAKING AFTER YOU”

on second thought, mercy is no longer available for you

“hyuck, you should tape your fingers so you won’t bite your nails like a preschooler anymore”

“i’ll tape your mouth shut, that’s what i’ll tape” *_*

“hUH???!?!!?”  (*ﾟﾛﾟ)

Na Jaemin

“okay jisung is an easy task compared to you right now”

even though this man is used to being the mom of the group

he’s still most likely in disbelief watching his otherwise angel flap around like a headless chicken 

but you’re even cutter with your swollen cheek so he forgives you (︶▽︶)

“hey, jaem, did you know i’m closely related to snails??”

“entertain me” (∩_∩)

“they can sleep for years at once. that’s like my main talent.”

“it would be great for me if you’d put this talent of yours to work now”

jaemin ends up sprawled over the couch and watching dramas like a tired mom of 3 hyperactive children with you curled up at his side playing games on his phone

*hiccup*

jaemin’s brain before he even registered the sound : something’s wrong

“y/n baby?” (｡•́︿•̀｡)

*hiccup* *sniffle* *hiccup* 

jaemin’s overprotective instincts kicked in ಠ╭╮ಠ

he knocks the phone out of the way and swings your legs over his lap to cradle you against his chest and hush you with the gentlest coos while rubbing your back up and down softly

“what happened, my love? does it hurt? tell nana what’s wrong and he’ll get rid in a second of what dared hurt his precious baby” just imagine this man this would be like the peak of my life  🥺

so in between your boyfriend’s comforting whispers and your harsh breaths of air you managed to let out a few words

“e-elephants, nana”

he already knows the biggest facepalm is coming his way -_-

“tHEy CAn’T jUmP, tHE poOR ELephANTs”

(ノ-_-)ノ~┻━┻

he just sighs and continues rocking you in his arms until you doze off, slumped on his chest, your head cushioned by his shoulder

he softly shakes his head at you and lays a butterfly kiss on your forehead

“i would make elephants jump just for you, my cute big baby” ♡♡(￫ε￩*)

Zhong Chenle

he halfway panics at the way you act

you’re usually the one who takes care of him so your childish act that surfaced because of the anesthesia took him by surprise

“dude they brainwashed y/n” (ﾉ｀□´)ﾉ

once you start babbling to him about the end of the rainbow and the elf that awaits there with a pot full of golden coins he knew you lost it

calls renjun

“hyung i’m sorry for saying you’re batshit crazy with your conspiracies, but aliens kidnapped y/n”

*muffled voices on the other side*

“NO, I’M NOT DRUNK!! they brainwashed y/n or even worse… returned a cheap copy of them”

renjun probably just tells him to put you to sleep and advises chenle to do the same with himself -_-

so chenle just approaches you very carefully, his voice barely above a whisper

“hey, babe, aren’t you tired?”

“actually no, how about a walk in the park???”

“idk y/n, it doesn’t seem like the best idea”

“PLEASE”  🥺

“THIS IS THE BEST IDEA OF THE YEAR BABY!!!11!!”

this man is royally whipped for you so he takes you to the nearest park and keeps a careful watch on you as you bend down to pet every dog that passes by ⊂((・▽・))⊃

while he would do anything for you, he’s very panicky about your safety so he has to hold your hand the entire time and you’re not allowed to leave his side for even a second overprotective boyfriend check

mid walk you take a break on a bench and you lean your head on cheble’s shoulder before muttering sleepily

“lele, i’m tired, imma take a nap”

“are you serious rn” (ಠ_ಠ)

but you’re already a goner and chenle is left fuming by himself

despite his annoyance he still adjusts you so he can piggyback you home and hums songs softly every time you stir (灬♥ω♥灬)

you’ll have to baby him an entire week to pay him back

Park Jisung

this boy is actually quite pleased

because for once he can take care of you and not the other way around without any complaints coming from you

so you both end up curled into each other under a blanket while watching the Frozen movies :((((((((

and for once he ends up watching you more than he watches the movie because you’re so cute reciting all of Olaf’s lines ꒰˘̩̩̩⌣˘̩̩̩๑꒱

but the fun can only last for so long

and when your mouth starts feeling ‘funny’ jisung’s mind goes haywire

“sung, i’m gonna die”

panic panic PANIC (ｼ;ﾟДﾟ)ｼ

“they poisoned you didn’t they??? i knew it!! i knew dentists are evil, how am i gonna explain i let crazy doctors perform dark magic on you???!!?!?” no offense to dentists y’all are life savers

so you have at least 2 ice packs and a bag of frozen peas clutched against your cheek and you swear you’re about to die from frostbite rather than the weird feeling coming from your teeth 

and then jisung wraps you in a mountain of blankets cuz ‘we can’t have you catching a cold now too’ as if sweating your ass off is gonna fight off the numbing cold on your face  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

but babie is confused a tad lot bit scared for both his and your life

and you’re kinda very dazed so comforting him isn’t really in your agenda

he probably worries within an inch of his life ヾ( ๑´д`๑)ﾂ

too afraid to let you fall asleep just in case

so every time you doz off sweet cutie jisung just kithes you (๑°꒵°๑)･*♡

and you wake up just to kiss back your cute boyfriend

and he just chuckles and blows raspberries on your neck man jisung would be such a cute whipped boyfriend

but he ends up asleep next to you with his face buried in your hair and arms tightly wrapped around you cocooning you close to himself ah i’m getting soft again ♡(㋭ ਊ ㋲)♡

[asset35-maya]

for better, for worse

Canonverse Contina, Mild TW: android injury

//

Tina woke up with a start. The digital clock on her bedside table told her it was 4:34 AM. She shifted underneath the covers for a few uncertain seconds before realising why she’d woken up. There was nothing to it. She just needed to pee. Quite badly, come to think of it. She quickly clambered out of bed without bothering to check on her boyfriend. He could sleep through anything… not that he really needed to.

Tina blundered towards the ensuite bathroom and grasped the doorknob. It didn’t yield. Sleepy-eyed and irritated with herself, she rattled it from side to side. No traction. The door was locked from within… but there was no light shining under the crack. Tina glanced over her shoulder at the empty bed and her heart flew into her throat.

Most girlfriends would have just banged on the door to be let in. “Hurry up. I gotta go too.” But not Tina. She let go of the knob and stepped back with trepidation. She could only imagine the worst… and honestly didn’t know whether she was welcome to witness it. A few moments of painful indecision passed and then Connor’s voice rang out.

“Sorry, love. You’ll have to wait.”

Tina flinched at his light and cheery tone. The one he reserved for reporting the worst possible mission statuses.

“Con, are you alright?”

“Yes!”

She bit her lip, wondering whether to press further. He didn’t like her interfering. He didn’t even like her worrying and asking after him. Even at work, she’d be the last one to know if something went wrong on one of his cases. She supposed it was his way of protecting her…

“Con, what’s going on in there?”

“Nothing. Just a bit of maintenance. It got a little messy so this bathroom’s currently out of commission. But don’t worry, I’ll clean up!”

She closed her eyes. Maintenance in the middle of the fucking night. No sane android would attempt that alone and with no equipment.

“I’m not worried about the mess, babe. I’m worried about you. Can you let me in?”

“Hmm… actually… um…”

Androids didn’t usually say that. Not even the ones with advanced social programming.

“Let me in.”

“I need a little longer.”

“You have one minute.”

“Liiiittle longer.”

“Con, I need to pee and I’ll break this door down if I have to.”

Connor seemed to grasp that neither the state of her bladder nor her police training were up for contention. There was a click and the door swung open. Tina flipped the light switch and took a shaky breath before stepping in. She mentally steeled herself for a sea of blue blood, a flood of thirium. Literally everything her nightmares were made of.

Inside, the tiles were pristine. Unmarked by any liquid, let alone the blue kind. Connor was shirtless and slumped against the wash cabinet, LED spinning yellow and left arm splayed at an odd angle. Most shocking, was the maze of cables and wires hanging out of the open panels along his forearm and bicep. The amount of space it took up on the bathroom floor was incredible. It was impossible to tell where one wire started and where another began. A veritable tangle.

Tina sighed and came to stand beside him. She ran a hand through his hair, bending down briefly to press her lips to his forehead.

“What happened?”

Connor shook his head.

“Hey…”

“It’s kind of like a pinched nerve…”

“Hmm.”

“Bothered me all week.”

“Hmm.”

“Thought I could fix it myself.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I didn’t want to do it when you were awake because I knew you’d make me go to a stupid technician. And you’d have been right…”

Tina nodded and stepped away. She sat on the toilet and eased her underwear down. Connor pointedly stared at the floor until she stood up and flushed. She walked over to the sink and leaned over him to wash her hands, making a rather deliberate point that there were no boundaries left between them. Connor didn’t miss it. He lifted his good hand and caught her thigh in a silent apology. Tina playfully nudged his jaw with her knee and he kissed it. She then sat down on the floor beside him and gestured at the heap of wiring.

“So what now?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do we do? Where do we go? Doesn’t Cyberlife have an ER that we could drive to?”

“They do but my insurance wouldn’t cover this.”

“What!? Why?”

“It might have started out as a repetitive stress injury from work… but this damage…”

“Self-inflicted.”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Is there someone we could call? Maybe Nines would be able to-”

“Absolutely not. He’ll never let me hear the end of it. And he’ll probably bring his ogre of a husband with him.”

“Hey, that’s my best friend! And he can be good with his hands. You know that!”

“NO.”

“Sixty?”

“He’d just laugh and take pictures.”

“Hank?”

“He’d just start swearing and yelling and then offer to buy me a new arm.”

Tina fought off a smile and leaned her head on Connor’s shoulder. He reciprocated and they sat in silence for a while.

“There was this healer android I met at Jericho. She used to look after injured deviants who ended up there. Way before Markus even started the revolution. She suffered a lot of damage herself but she had this… gift. She could bring people back from the brink of shut down.”

“Yeah? What was her name?”

“Lucy.”

“She sounds kind. I wish she was around to help you now.”

“I was actually going to say that even she wouldn’t be able to fix this mess.”

They looked into each other’s eyes and burst into laughter. The exposed wires in Connor’s arm sparked a little as he moved.

“Oh Con, why are you like this…”

“What are you talking about? I always accomplish my mission.”

“Oh shut up.”

Tina got onto her knees and began looking through the sink cabinet. She retrieved her brow kit and laid out a set of precise instruments. Scissors, multiple tweezers and a delicate wand. Connor watched with a thoroughly bemused expression.

“My love, you can’t be serious.”

“I absolutely am. I helped Gav and Eli untangle wires from all their robot projects when we were little. I didn’t understand shit but they always asked for my help when things got twisted.”

“Okay. I guess it can’t make things worse…”

“Oh you have got no right to talk.”

Tina gently took hold of the wires and spread them out as best as she could. She separated out the distinct chunks with her hands and then grabbed a tweezer to work on the smaller sections. At one point Connor sighed with relief as Tina inadvertently coaxed out the kink he’d originally been looking for. She threw him a glance that anyone in a relationship would instantly recognise. “You owe me one.”

Eventually the tangle came loose and all the sets of wiring were laid out neatly on the bathroom floor. Tina sat back on her haunches.

“Is this good?”

“Very.”

“Do you know how to put everything back? Be honest. No shame in calling Nines and Gav.”

“All androids are familiar with their own system blueprints.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I can… guide you.”

“Sure.”

Tina detected some distress in Connor’s warm brown eyes. She reached out and squeezed his ankle reassuringly.

“I got you.”

“I know you do. I’m just… I… sorry to put you through all this in the middle of the night.”

“That’s literally what I’m here for.”

She reached for the longest lengths of wire and and began coiling them around the shorter lengths. Connor nodded approvingly and began to give her more detailed instructions. In seemingly no time, she was tucking everything back into his arm and closing the panels on his arm with sharp little clicks. Connor’s synthetic skin reappeared and he gave his arm a few experimental flexes. Everything appeared to be in working order.

Tina stood up and held out a hand. Connor took it and let her haul him to his feet even though he was more than capable of getting up on his own. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into a hug.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t say that.”

“What should I say then?”

“That you’ll actually tell me next time something’s wrong.”

“Nothing was wrong… per se…”

“Con, don’t bullshit me. It’s not just tonight. It’s been like this for a while. I want you to stop shutting me out for my own good or whatever.”

He didn’t respond but gripped her tighter. She pulled back and took his face between her hands, forcing eye contact.

“I mean it, babe. I need you to be real with me.”

“You should go back to sleep. Try and catch a few hours before work.”

“Nah. I’m wide awake and hungry now.”

“Oh no, Tina! This is why I didn’t want you to find out. I’ve disturbed your sleep and-”

“You can make me pancakes.”

They looked at each other for a moment. Tina was smiling confidently. In the distance, somewhere outside the apartment, birds were chirping. Connor’s LED slowly emerged from its yellow cycle and went blue. He understood her implication. Give and take. Reciprocity. Balance. In love, there was no need to be a hero. And if one of them ever was, the other could just make pancakes. Metaphorically… or in this case… literally.

“How many?”

“Just one. With a blueberry smiley face.”

“Coming right up.”

“Throw in an extra for the LED.”

“I might have to put a raspberry or golden raisin there.”

“Not on my watch.”

Tina leaned in and pressed her lips to his temple, and then his mouth.

[louiseleblancdiggory]

Speedy one night stand

Ok, so this is an old scene that i never posted because I never thought it was good enough, but since I wanted to post smth before ‘Tis the Damn Season, here it goes! I’m sorry for any typos, it’s 3 am and I don’t have the patience to proof read rn. There are mentions of a car accident but I swear it is not a sad or angsty scene. It’s bad and not at all a believable situation, but I hope it’s ok enough to be mildly enjoyable!

Aelin was having a spectacular day.

She had woken up around six, laying near the hottest man to ever walk on this Earth. In the previous night, she had drank enough to practically guarantee her a bitch hangover, but apparently her beautiful, silver-haired stranger had fucked it right out of her. A few times.

Not so proudly, Aelin sneaked out of his house without making a single sound. Maybe she should have stayed, maybe asked for his name. But she was also almost sure she had given him her number yesterday, and so if he wanted to continue things, he could call her. If not… Well, it had been a fun night.

Understatement of the fucking century.

And thanks to her stranger, once she got home, Aelin felt energized and inspired enough to finally give the painting a try.

The painting had become Aelin’s nightmare for the past year and a half. She had the idea, had the ability, but didn’t know how to do it, how to tackle it. She tried a few times every few days, and left the room hating it more and more. The painting started to be a mock to her abilities— she would finish other works, beautiful works, and yet the messy canvas would always stare at her from the corner of the room.

Aelin was mainly a sculptor, not a painter, and so she didn’t even know why it bothered her so much but it did. Oh, it most certainly did.

For the past eighteen months, staring at that taunting canvas was like staring at yourself on the mirror for too long. The vision started to blur, and it didn’t look real, evoked a deep panic.

For the past eighteen months, Aelin hated that fucking painting.

And yet, when she got home earlier, all she could think is that she might be able to finish it. The painting was supposed to be of Oakwald, a beautiful forest that extended for the whole expanse of the west of Terrasen. She hadn’t been at home for so long now, and all she wanted was a painting of how she remembered the forest to be. She wanted to capture its light, its life. She wanted it to look exactly how it was in her memory, but the colors never seemed right. Her fondness of the memory was becoming stained with that stupid canvas.

All she needed was the right palette.

And he had walked in a bar and sat by her side yesterday.

Her stranger was the literal embodiment of her memory, so much so that for a split second, Aelin had thought she had gone officially insane. His silver-grey hair was the exact shade of the sky on the cloudy mornings when she and her dad would go for a walk. Eyes a combination of a few shades of green and small specks of brown that reminded her of how the trees were. His demeanor was cold, and yet Aelin found him somehow so welcoming— just like she felt back at Oakwald, back home.

Her stranger had given her the thing she had needed for the past eighteen months, even if he hadn’t given her even his name.

Aelin was staring proudly at the now finished painting when the phone rang. She was glad her roommate wasn’t at home to witness her staring at the painting for that long like a crazy person, and honestly hoped it was Lysandra calling to ask if she wanted to go out and grab something to eat.

Or maybe it’s your stranger.

Aelin forced herself to shove every single spark of hope down until they were nothing more than cinders. To be honest, Aelin knew that she probably wouldn’t get a call from him. It was his first day in town, they both had been drunk, and, even though the sex had been great, her stranger didn’t seem like the dating type.

At least not the dating type with a woman who left his house unannounced at six in the morning after leaving him with no note other than her number that could potentially be wrong since said woman was already tipsy when she gave it to him.

A fucking shame.

“Hey.” Aelin said, putting the phone to her ear as she looked for her car keys. She wanted to be in the elevator by the time the word “eat” left Lys’s mouth.

“Is this Aelin?” A female voice she had never heard in her life asked, uncertainty and hesitation lacing every word.

Aelin withdrew the phone from her ear and looked at the unknown number.

Aelin rarely gave her phone number to strangers, and lately it had only been to…

Oh fucking shit.

He had a girlfriend?

Fuck fuck fuck.

“Hum, yes?” Aelin sounded as uncertain as the girl. “I’m sorry, but who is this?”

Maybe it wasn’t what she thought. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe—

“Do you know a Rowan?”

Well.

“Maybe?” Aelin wanted to bang her head against a wall. Almost seven months without touching a guy, and the first one in her way back to the land of the social people had a girlfriend. At least she knew his name now. Rowan seemed fitting, matched his appearance somehow. “Silver hair, green eyes, looks really pissed even when he’s sleeping?”

Please say no.

“Oh, yes.” The woman said, sounding… relieved? “I’m doctor Towers, and—“

“Doctor?” Aelin blurted out, all anger and nervousness being substituted for confusion. “Doctor?”

“Yes. Well, actually an intern since I’m still halfway through my first year here and—“

“I swear I mean no offense, but I am a little confused.” Aelin interrupted her after she started mumbling. “You’re Rowan’s girlfriend?”

“No!” The woman shouted loud enough that Aelin had to take the phone from her ear. “Gods, no. I thought you were his girlfriend.”

A moment of silence passed through the two women.

“What the fuck?” Was everything Aelin managed to say. She cleared her throat, mind trying to catch up with what was happening. “Why would you think that?”

“You’re the only contact on his phone.”

“I am?”

“You are.”

“I am.”

“You are.”

“I— Why are you calling me?” Aelin shook her head, her grip on her keys strong enough that started to be painful. She didn’t know if this was some type of joke her friends were pulling on her, or if Rowan was just some sick asshole that was fucking with her now that he had her number but she sure as hell wasn’t enjoying the experience.

“Well, you see.” She cleared her throat, voice tone becoming more serious, more professional. “Rowan was admitted into the Torre’s hospital a few hours ago. He was involved in an accident, and all the emergency contacts we could find are not in town as of now. I know it is not protocol, and I’m breaking so many rules here, but I went through his phone to see if I could find a contact of someone who was around. We didn’t know if his injuries were serious or not, but…”

Doctor Towers didn’t finish the sentence, and dread mixing with some type of anxiety started rolling inside Aelin’s stomach. “But?”

She didn’t respond the question, instead changing the subject. “You’re the only contact, Miss Aelin.”

Aelin slowly sat down, the dead silence of the apartment mixing with the expectant silence from Doctor Towers. She didn’t know the guy, didn’t even know his name until two minutes ago, and yet the image of the painting in the other room kept flashing in her mind, the colors in the canvas mixing with the colors she saw on his face. “I— Is he alive?”

“Yes, yes. He’s in surgery, I believe.” The initial apprehension came back to the woman’s voice. “I don’t know, actually. Again, just an intern. People don’t tell me much here.”

“And I suppose hiding somewhere after stealing a patient’s phone isn’t the best way to pick up on any information they might be sharing in the halls right now.” Aelin said, some amusement for the girl showing through her voice. “Where are you? Storage room?”

“Coma patient room.” Doctor Towers laughed nervously. “I thought I was helping.”

“It’s fine.” Aelin said even though she didn’t feel it.

The line went silent once more, and after a minute, Aelin said. “Well, bye, I guess.”

“Wait.” The doctor’s apprehensive voice sounded again. “Couldn’t you… Can you still come? Even if you’re just his friend?”

Aelin sat frozen on her chair. “I’m not his friend.”

“Oh.” She sounded disappointed. “Ok. Sorry. Have a great night, Miss Aelin.”

Before Aelin could respond, the call was ended.

—————

The first thing Rowan noticed when he opened his eyes was that he was not at the rented apartment he and the rest of his friends had gotten for the summer.

The lights were too white and too artificial, the bed too uncomfortable to be the same one he had slept the previous night.

And there was also the fact it felt as if he had been thrown from the top of a building, broken every single bone in the impact and, somehow, survived.

He tried opening his eyes a little bit more and acute pain shot to his brain.

Unfortunately. Unfortunately survived.

Shit, maybe he was in hell.

“I don’t know if the struggle is amusing or pathetic.” A low and sultry voice sounded from the left corner of the room. “Maybe try not staring directly into the light and then try opening your eyes.”

Rowan turned his head to where the soft voice had come from, pain burning his neck with the movement but he found himself incapable of not looking at her direction. But the woman was right, and Rowan managed to open his eyes enough to see her seating in one of those uncomfortable hospital chairs, legs crossed in front of her and fingers laced on top of her stomach.

Rowan mentally scratched his last thought. If he had actually died, that certainly was tilting a lot more towards heaven than hell even with the killing pain.

“Fuck, I think I died.” Rowan blurted out.

“I’ll pretend you just compared me to an angel, not to the devil.” She said, getting up and walking in his direction. Despite her hurt tone, she was smiling as she approached his bed. “It’s the least you could do after you ruined my perfectly perfect day. I was having a blast, you know?”

Hell, heaven, or Earth— it honestly didn’t fucking matter because the pain was the same, but her voice seemed to soothe his muscled, make the pain secondary to the pleasure of listening to her voice.

“Yeah?” Rowan rasped out, hoping she would continue talking.

“Oh, yeah.” She sat by the edge of the bed, straightening his sheets. The light wasn’t so blinding anymore, and he could see every detail on her face.

Heaven. Definitely heaven.

“I’m an artist, you know. Sculptor mostly, but I’m a decent painter. There’s this painting I’ve been trying to get done for over a year now, and today I did not only make progress I liked, but I also finished it. I thought today was going to be a terrible day, you know? Yesterday I found out my flight back home had been canceled and I would only be able to get another one by the end of summer, so I went to a bar and planned on getting drunk. Today was a day for tears and hangovers.”

“But?” Rowan asked automatically, all too focused on the woman sitting next to him.

She smiled, raising a hand to brush his hair from his face, fingers intertwining with the shoulder-length knots he most certainly had after whatever it was that had happened. She seemed too focused on her hand gently undoing the knots, but thankfully kept talking. “But I met this guy, you know? Definitely not from here, accent gave it away immediately. Also not from where I am from. Just that made him interesting enough. And,” she turned her eyes to him, eyes glinting with mischief. “Very, very fucking hot. That definitely made him even more interesting.”

“What a guy.” Rowan could feel some of the life coming back to his body, and even managed to weakly match the grin she had on her face.

“Oh, yes, what a guy. Fucked the hangover and artistic block right out of me. A hero, if you will.” Her grin extended into a smile, and she shook her head. “So imagine how ruined my day was when I got a call saying my amazing bar guy had been in a car accident.”

Rowan let out a broken laugh, his ribs screaming in pain when he did so. “So irresponsible of him.”

She assented solemnly. “And there I was, hoping he would have called me to go out on a date. I’m not picky but hospital is a huge downgrade from mind blowing sex in his expensive apartment.”

Rowan laughed again, not even caring about the pain.  “I’m sure the guy would have asked you if you hand’t left the expensive apartment at the crackass of dawn without telling him.”

“And instead of calling he let his car be smashed by a fucking truck to get my attention? Tsk, tsk, tsk… Maybe I didn’t dodge a bullet with this idiot.”

Rowan’s lips were taken by a grin. “Well it worked, didn’t it?”

“Next time try something a little less dramatic.” She said, eyes narrowing but Rowan could see how she was trying to contain a smile.

“The girl really seemed into dramatics tho. Gave it away last night when she—“

“Since I didn’t know your name until your doctor called me, Rowan, I’ll save you the embarrassment of asking mine.” She interrupted him, slender fingers going from his hair to the top of his lips. “I’m Aelin.”

“Aelin.” He said against the finger sushing him. “May I ask how you got here?”

She blushed a little, taking the finger from his mouth and straightening her spine. “I was the only contact in your list. They called me.”

“Lost my phone in the airport yesterday and had to buy a new one. Still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, small nose frowning. “You’re very talkative for someone who could barely open his eyes a few minutes ago.”

“Am I?” Rowan said, hoping to push some of her buttons. Consciousness had been coming back slowly, and Rowan certainly remembered every single detail. Remembered being pissed by losing his phone, impatient because he would have to wait two more days for his friends to arrive.

Remembered all the pissy and impatience leaving his body once he sat on the bar by the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She had been quick-mouthed, with no filter, and absolutely hypnotizing. She wasn’t just fucking beautiful, but also funny, smart, and had the ability to make him forget every single thing that was making him irritated.

And the rest of the night… It was a shame Rowan was bedridden, he certainly wouldn’t mind reenacting last night again.

And again. And again.

And again.

Rowan had wondered earlier if she had been that amazing because he was drunk. The answer was obviously no.

Aelin pursed her lips, red coloring her cheeks. She cleared her throat, rolling her eyes. “The doctor guilty tripped me.”

“Yeah?” Rowan knew he was smiling like an idiot.

“She said you were in surgery and she didn’t know how serious.” Aelin finally looked him straight in the eyes, and Rowan noticed how beautiful hers were. “No one deserves to have no one in this situation. She said your friends were out of town, and the girl sounded desperate enough that it sounded as if you were fucking died. Again, no one deserves to die alone. Specially someone this good in bed.”

It took Rowan a second to understand everything she had just said. When the last sentence finally registered on his brain, Rowan laughed. Aelin shook her head, a small smile appearing again.

“Also, you’re the first guy I slept with in seven months. Letting you die alone seemed like bad luck.”

“I am honored you put so much consideration into coming to stay with me.”

“Shut it.”

“If it makes you feel less embarrassed—“

“I’m not embarrassed.”

“I would have come too. Make sure my best fuck wasn’t dead.”

“Awn, best fuck? You’ll make me tear up like this, Ro. So romantic.” Aelin pretended to clean fake tears the moment the doctor in darker scrubs and a few on lighter ones entered the room.

“Good to see you awake, Mr Whitethorn.” The man smiled at him, checking his charts. “It’s always good to see wives crying of happiness rather than sadness around here.”

“Of course.” Rowan agreed, turning to Aelin and raising an eyebrow.

“They wouldn’t let me stay if I wasn’t family.” She whispered low enough so that only Rowan would hear. Her face slowly broke into a grin, and she winked at him before turning to the doctor. “So he’ll be fine, right, doctor?”

Rowan had to bite his cheeks from laughing at how obviously fake she sounded, but no one other than him noticed. “Yes, yes. Other than a fracture to his right wrist, your husband is completely fine. Some bruising and soreness that painkillers can help, but nothing major. You two are free to enjoy your vacations when he’s discharged tomorrow.”

“Oh, great.” Rowan said, nodding seriously. “My wife here has just informed me that a hospital is no adequate place for a first date.”

All the people in the room laughed, thinking Rowan meant their first date in Antica.

Not their first date ever.

“I’ll leave you two. Anything you need, ask a nurse and they will page me.” The doctor in darker scrubs said, leaving the room with all the ones in lighter scrubs following.

“Where do you live?” Rowan asked the moment the doctor was out.

Aelin turned to him, fingers going back to his silver hair. “Have been living here for the past two years in an art internship. Going back to Orynth, Terrasen by the end of the summer.” She curled a strand around her finger before looking to his face. “You?”

“Have been and will continue to be a very happy resident of Orynth.” Rowan said, a smirk appearing on his lips. “Definitely happier after the summer.”

“Haven’t even asked me out and you’re already thinking about the end of the summer.” Aelin shook her head and clicked her tongue even though she was smiling. “No surprise you got into a car accident, so speedy.”

His smirk grew into a smile. “My dear wife, would you like to go on a date with me?”

She narrowed her eyes, taking her sweet, sweet time to answer. “I’ll think about it.”

“And, seeing how the doctor talked about all my grave injuries—“

“Grave.” She snorted.

“Do I get kisses to feel better?” Rowan’s tone was full of mockery and some laughter.

“If I kiss every place you’re hurting after being hit by a fucking truck, I think we’d be here for a long while.”

“You didn’t complain yesterday.”

Aelin half laughed, half snorted. Rolling her eyes, she bent forward, and even though she was trying very hard not to, Rowan could see the start of a smile just before she pressed her lips against his. They were sweeter and softer than he remembered, and despite the pain on his arms and specially on his right wrist, Rowan raised his hands and put them in her golden strawberry hair.

“One more thing.” He said against her mouth.

“Has anyone ever told you that you ask for too much?” Aelin said impatiently.

“As our situation is already as fucking weird as it’s gonna get—“

“You don’t say!” Aelin said, voice dripping with so much fake surprise Rowan couldn’t stop but smirk up at her.

“As our situation is already as fucking weird as it’s gonna get,” he repeated forcefully, eyes narrowing at her as her smile widened. “Tomorrow, when my friends arrive.”

“Yes?”

“Can you please still pretend you’re my wife?”

Aelin stared at him blankly for a moment before letting out a full, lovely laugh. The bed shook with her laughter, and Rowan joined her— a little weakly due to the pain, but joined her nonetheless. She bent down to kiss him again, nodding as she did so. “Of course. What type of person would I be if I didn’t help such injured person find some happiness in their lives?”

Rowan kissed her back, fingers playing with her hair. “So this means you’ll go out with me?”

“We’ll see.”

.

.

.

.

.

@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jlinez @courtofjurdan @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ladywitchling @lexflame @sleeping-and-books @annejulianneh111 @perseusannabeth @linshryver @mu-si-ca-l @camilamartinezdunne @dank-queen7 @minaidss @starborn-faerie-queen @booksofthemoon @loveofbooksandwine @jesstargaryenqueen @bluejaberry @multifandommessblog @yesdreamblog @superspiritfestival @ireallyshouldsleeprn @woollycat22 @julemmaes @claralady @abookishfreak @faerie-queen-fireheart @morganofthewildfire @queen-of-glass @heirofthenightcourt @booksbqueen @heirofthrnightcourt004 @fromthelibraryofemilyj @rowaelinismyotp

* if your name is in bold i cannot tag you

[captainsimagines]

To Topple A Giant || Chapter Six

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

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

Part 6 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

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

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

Word Count: 21,400+

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

~

An Avengers Safehouse, 2023, 10:45 pm  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Where’s Steve? Is he okay?’

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

‘He’s… he’s not coming, doll.’

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you avoiding me?”

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

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

You will not cry right now. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t joke about that-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Business as usual.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ll what?” 

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

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

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

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

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

You were still speaking.  

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

“Don’t start-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You hate me that much-”

“Y/N-”

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

“Please...”

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

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

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

“I think that’s for the best.”

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

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

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

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

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

Present Day, 2025, 7:02am

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

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

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

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

Steve really wasn’t here. 

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

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

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

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

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

‘Hey, what’s up?’

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

‘Back up. Explain?’

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

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

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

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

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

‘Did you and Steve actually…?’

“No, no! But we… touched and stuff.”

‘Is this high school? Spit it out.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ugh, don’t scare me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘You didn’t have to.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I need to tell someone.”

“I’m all ears.”

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

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

“And we messed around a little bit.”

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

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

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

“That’s calling it like it is?”

“Am I wrong?”

“Very. We just… touched and stuff.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t deserve it,” Steve mumbled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That didn’t make any-”

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

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

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

God, he really fucked up, didn’t he?

“We got a plan?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

“You protect her, alright?”

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

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

“I will.” 

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

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

Anyone who thought or assumed otherwise was an idiot.

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

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

“Good to see you again!”

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

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

“You’re weird when you’re nice.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ew.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steve shrugged, “The good ole’ days.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You played dumb. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

      “There are worse ways to go.”

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

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

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

“Is everyone on?”

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

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

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

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

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

Wait, where were you?

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

“Does anyone have eyes on Y/N?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, let’s go!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See this as a means to inform you.”

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

“Do we have a deal?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Scott’s eyes lit up. 

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

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

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

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

For you, stealing Steve’s fries was simple. 

Maybe because he didn’t stop you. 

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

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

Yes, that would have been great. 

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

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

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

“Please… don’t shoot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your men were followed, too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Prove it.”

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

Scott nodded, “According to legend-”

Steve blinked at him, “Scott.”

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

Steve squinted, “Saw us where?”

“The phone videos on Youtube.”

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

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

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

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

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

Ramirez chuckled, “Seems not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And fuck, Steve knew the kid was right. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, PR didn’t have a nice night.

     “What about the videos, Omar?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steve chuckled under his breath, “We know.”

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

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

“I mean, half of it is for drugs.”

“Omar,” you demanded.

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

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

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

Steve stuttered, “Drugs and refugees?”

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

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

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

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

“Exactly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What kind of favor?”

“Protect my daughter.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Promise me.”

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

“We promise.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you getting at?”

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

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

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

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

“We can’t let her know right now.”

Torres held the same expression as Steve.

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

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

Steve hates that his reasoning is valid.

“Can’t tell her what?”

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

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

“Multiple.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But wasn’t that what you all wanted?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because he will tell you. He promises himself that. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Steve?”

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

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

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

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

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

“If you say so.”

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

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

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

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

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

It was now or never. 

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

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

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

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

“You don’t?”

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

“No, I just-”

“Do you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steve hesitated, “Do you want to fight?”

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

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

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

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

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

“When I apologized, I hardly meant it.”

You nodded sarcastically, “Good start, Steve.”

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

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

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

“Oh.”

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

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

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

“I wasn’t the only volunteer-”

“You were the first.”

“So you’re interrupting me, now?”

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

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

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

“Tired of me?”

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

“Steve…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How can you say that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, you shouldn’t have.”

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

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

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

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

“What are you thinking about?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I only want you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And righteous.”

“Downright patriotic.”

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

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

“Pretty brave of you to admit that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You gonna let me?”

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

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

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

“Safe word?”

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

“Safe. Word.”

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

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

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

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

“Where do you want me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steve short-circuited. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N, are you sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You didn’t know if he could hear himself begging, but he repeated that sentence several more times before you spoke. It was like you chose for him. “Come inside me, Steve. Please, please, please!”

That strung-out whine of yours did it. Steve pressed his mouth against your skin with a breathless groan as he spilled into you in long spurts. Simply feeling him coat your walls with what sounded like a painful cry had you coming for the third time tonight. You didn’t have enough energy to vocalize it so just pushed your head into the pillow and prayed you could still walk tomorrow. 

Steve’s heartbeat is in his ears as he comes down from his high. He enjoys it for a few more seconds before finally snapping back to reality, lifting himself from you and slowly pulling out. He groaned deeply as he watched his spent drip from you and onto the pillow hoisting you up. He wrapped a hand around himself to milk whatever else he had as he watched. 

You two lay beside each other for several minutes, chests heaving and blood settling to its normal speed again. 

You glanced to your left and giggled as you witnessed Steve’s blissed out state, tip of his nose still pink, eyelashes creating such a lovely shadow on his cheeks, cock giving a few spent stutters as the rush of blood found another body part to supply. 

He turned to you as well, a lazy smile greeting you. “We’re good at that.”

This time you laughed loudly, throwing yourself over his chest and hugging him close. He laughed with you and kissed the top of your head as he enjoyed the feeling.

After another couple minutes, you both decided it was time to clean up. He resisted the urge to laugh when you stood up, legs wobbly and chest still trying to catch full breaths. You looked drunk, eyes glossy and hair disorderly. The look suited you, really. 

You thought the same about him. 

Steve swore he was about to crumble when you both returned from the bathroom and you headed for your own bed. It was a betrayal for only a millisecond before you commented on how you were not sleeping in soiled sheets and that he could ‘obviously’ join you in your bed tonight. You kept talking, telling him how you weren’t necessarily a cuddler but you would sacrifice one night for him. But ‘do not be alarmed when you find me on the other side of the bed in the morning!’, and the good ache in his chest swelled once again. 

     Once, in 1935, when Steve was seventeen and too weak to breathe in a lick of clean air, the pneumonia eating away at his lungs and taunting his mother, who was rotating between cold and hot rags; that 1935 sickness was one of the few times he was hopeless. Sure, he pulled through because he’s Steve Rogers. But not being able to breathe really scares a person, and so he didn’t feel hopeless - he was hopeless. His own body betrayed him and made his mother, who nursed him while Bucky worked extra shifts at the dock to help her with groceries, cry like a blubbering newborn - well, Steve was forced to put his faith in God. It’s what his mother would have wanted him to do.

And when he couldn’t reach far enough to grasp Bucky’s trembling hand, when he watched him fall into that icy ravine to his supposed death in 1944, he was hopeless. Completely obliterated from the bottom of his heart, up. 

In 2018, when he lost the ultimate battle and saw half the world disintegrate, and the itchiness spread itself far and wide to all the crevices in his crumbling soul, pouring into crack after crack after crack - there was no need to even label himself hopeless anymore. He hadn’t had hope in anything after he caused the destruction of one of his only true 21st century friendships; not since he dropped that shield at the feet of one friend while he walked away with another. There was no hopelessness - simply less. 

But now, with you in his arms and treading lightly along his second chance, his heart was bursting with the possibility of relearning the definition of hope, craving to feel human again - to feel like Steve Rogers again. Sure, he may still believe his glass is half empty instead of half full, and he was pushing the ideals of that shield far too much down the line, but Steve swore the awe in your eyes was the hope he had lost. 

He couldn’t believe you were the host of it all along. 

So he settled in his new home, in his new hope, praying God would let him have it, and closed his eyes. This Steve, who was asleep for over seventy years and was robbed of the life he was supposed to live. This Steve, who wished he could erase all the lost time filled with stupid tantrums and half-assed apologies and pretend it never happened. No lies about ‘maybe it helped you two grow!’ He had poisoned his happiness years ago and god forbid he would let himself do it again. 

This Steve, who only wanted to protect and be protected. Steve, with all his heart, his mind, and his soul, burning brilliant.

~

A/N: man i know this is long but i literally write the chapters in sections and i don’t realize until I paste them together omgggg xxMoni

Taglist: @dumb-ass-writer @justab-eautifulmess @supraveng @mycosmicparadise @missnighttigress​ 

[vidavalor]

Bucky’s dual-era dog tags in TFATWS (and when & where he decides to wear them) are giving me some SamBucky-related vibes...

...in addition to the just interesting stuff related to Bucky’s various identity issues. So let’s talk the dog tags. 

First things first, these really do not seem like they’re Steve’s dog tags-- they’re Bucky’s own. Why? Look at the promo still below which is the best view I’ve seen of them in TFATWS. Notice that they are not of the same era. One of the dog tags is a WW2-era tag-- the darker, wider one is not only period-accurate for WW2, it’s identical to the ones Bucky was wearing during WW2 in the movie canon already, most visibly in the “let’s hear it for Captain America!” moment. The *other* dog tag Bucky is wearing in TFATWS, though, is of a more modern issue. It is the kind that would be made for soldiers now and over the last couple of decades. So, how does that mean that they’re Bucky’s and not just Steve’s and what does this have to do with Sam? 

Dog tags are only meant to be separated off the chain in the case of death, as everyone probably knows. Soldiers wear two tags with the same information on them into battle so that one remains on them if they die and the other can be pulled off the chain as proof of a fallen soldier during battle, with the army then usually passing the single chain to next of kin. If Bucky were wearing a pair of WW2-era dog tags in TFATWS, I’d say it was more possible that he was wearing Steve’s tags because Steve didn’t actually have them on when he went into the ice so, somewhere, Steve’s pair of WW2-era dog tags exist as a set, still on the chain. They probably wound up in the Smithsonian at some point but back to Bucky-- his, based on the canon we know, would have been separated after the freight car. 

Bucky was wearing his dog tags when he fell off the train car because he was at war. We know that the Russians found Bucky and then handed him back over to Zola. The Russians, to cover this up, would have taken one of Bucky’s dog tags and given it to the U.S. Army, claiming that they had found them washed up on the shore near where he fell or something. What did the U.S. Army do then? They didn’t know what Zola had done to Bucky beforehand that would enable him to survive the fall so they wouldn’t think to question the Russians on this-- they’d just be like hey, thanks for this and we’ll continue to do the same for you. They would have taken the dog tag and marked Bucky off as dead and then done the next thing, which is to give the dog tag to the soldier’s next of kin. 

Bucky died during war time and everyone knew he and Steve had been friends before the war so whatever general got the dog tag probably just gave it to Steve. Steve *could* have given it to Bucky’s sister at some point-- and we know she exists in the MCU because Bucky briefly mentioned her in TFATWS but we don’t know if he’s gone to see her yet-- but we also have no idea what she’s like in the MCU or if Steve might have just decided to keep the dog tag for himself. Given the trauma Steve went through of witnessing Bucky’s death and them not finding Bucky’s body, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume that even if Steve was the one who told Rebecca about Bucky’s death and all that, that he kept Bucky’s dog tag. The other one, that was on Bucky at the time when he was given back to Zola, was destroyed by Zola during him being brainwashed into The Winter Soldier. 

So, maybe through seeing Rebecca but probably really through Steve, Bucky gets one of his WW2 era dog tags back. Given that he isn’t seen wearing dog tags again until TFATWS, it’s likely that Steve gave it back to Bucky sometime in the Endgame aftermath before Steve went back in time. Let’s unpack how Steve’s heart was in the right place but that was a bit of a loaded gift here...

Free from being brainwashed-- as free as he’s been *since* WW2 anyway-- Bucky is essentially handed by Steve the symbol of what he just can’t be anymore-- that guy that Steve used to know. He’s still somewhat that guy but he’s been through so much that he’s not going to ever go back. Steve is into going back-- back to the same girl, back to the same era, back to a time when things felt less confusing and safer to him, where things will hurt less. Bucky has always been the absolute opposite of this-- while Steve was always desperate to fit the mode of the model man of the WW2 era, Bucky-- a good-looking, able-bodied soldier who can hot-blooded American male with the best of them-- was never a man of his time, always a bit ahead of it. Steve is Captain America-- Bucky is Captain World of Tomorrow. He’s more realistic about what America is because as a guy putting on a show for the world to pass in the society that Steve worships, Bucky has a very different perspective on all of it than Steve did. (See also, obviously, why Bucky and Sam understand one another and are better for one another than either of them with Steve.) Bucky is touched that Steve had this and is trying to do something nice by giving it back to him but it’s the singular dog tag bearing ‘James Buchanan Barnes’ like it’s literally being his own next of kin at this point as Steve’s about to go back into time-- it’s being handed a reminder of the demise of his sense of self and his *literal almost actual death* right when he’s trying to figure out how he’s going to view himself and what he’s going to do in this world now that he’s going to stay in the present. 

So, he’s not wearing it. He doesn’t really know what to do with it. He’s with Sam at the time (maybe not *with* Sam but I mean they’re sharing a lot of the same space, either at the Avengers compound or Sam’s apartment, in the whole Endgame aftermath time period but pre-TFATWS) and Sam sees it and Bucky tells him he’s putting it away because he can’t wear it. Steve was trying to do a nice thing but Bucky’s like I can’t wear one of these things, my old WW2 one-- it’d be like I was a walking corpse. Sam agrees. So, from here two things could have happened...

One is that Bucky could have made the decision to just get himself a modern secondary tag but keep in mind that Dr. Raynor actually had to clear Bucky for active duty and that wouldn’t have happened right away. More importantly, some military guys basically never take off their dog tags but we have evidence that Bucky used to actually *not* be like this so much. While he had them on during the war, much has been made (and should be made, for sure) about how Bucky’s wardrobe changes after his first encounter with Zola compared to when he first left for war. The Bucky in uniform on the double date with Steve is spiffy and spotless; the Bucky in the bar with Peggy and the Howlies is barely hanging on. The most major difference is how much he pushes his uniform away from his neck and stops wearing a hat-- some have theorized that Zola was trying an early version of the mind crown on Bucky before Steve found him, prompting Bucky to develop a trauma-induced need to have things away from his neck. 

This actually doesn’t change that much after Civil War, when he’s free from his handlers and on the run. By necessity, there’s a baseball cap at times but he wears a lot of henleys and there’s not actually any necklaces or dog tags until TFATWS. So, what changes? The addition of the modern tag and his reclaiming of the idea of being a soldier. So, the two options for how Bucky got the modern dog tag are really either a) he went and had one made for himself or b) Sam gave it to him. Let’s look at why the former would be kind of a healthy choice for Bucky but why it’s probably not likely to be what happened. 

One scene that stands out for me is the single scene in TFATWS where it’s really obvious that Bucky is *not* wearing the dog tags. They show up all over the place-- he has them on for basically the entire series. He’s even *sleeping* in them, waking up with them on during a nightmare where they’re prominent in the scene and then also in its contrasting scene, on the couch in Delacroix. So, the one scene we don’t see Bucky wearing them? His first therapy scene with Raynor. 

It’s made pretty clear that while Bucky got a thing or two out of his time with Raynor, it’s not really because of Raynor herself, who is basically a terrible trauma therapist. It’s also clear that Bucky doesn’t trust her and for good reason. We see that he really shouldn’t-- she’s forcing him into rules he can’t actually live by instead of helping him find ways through those scenarios when they invitably pop up (“don’t hurt anyone” is a recipe for failure) and she’s treating a man violated in every way under the sun in a way that’s invasive. She’s monitoring his phone. She threatens his compliance by *bringing out a book that she’s writing his secrets in* like... this isn’t the healthiest scenario here. What we also see is that Bucky subtly rebels against her. He somehow got himself cleared for active duty by her so he’s been b.s.ing her. He is later seen with a smart phone he knows how to use at Zemo’s (and had to have something on which he was online dating profile perusing) but Raynor thinks he just owns an old flip phone. So, it’s something really interesting that this is the one scene where we can’t see the chain of his dog tags. Why? Why doesn’t he want Raynor to know about them? 

Because he’s hiding what they mean to him. If he wore them in, he’d have to talk to her about them. The dog tags represent his real efforts to reconcile his identity and what he wants that to look like-- he’s vulnerable about them because they represent what little hope he has left. If Bucky had gone out and gotten that modern dog tag for himself and began wearing them, it’d be something healthy to share with Raynor. He’d want to show it off, all eager to show the doc the decision she’d see as healthy and let her analyze it with him. We know that Bucky is struggling to reconcile his identity-- it’s literally his whole story arc in TFATWS-- and yet, he’s wearing dog tags that cut to the chase of it, in a lot of ways. Which is why those dog tags were on in New York all the time except for with Raynor-- why he wore them to bed, even-- and why he leaves them on when he goes to see Sam. 

Sam got Bucky that newer tag. Probably when Raynor cleared him as a congratulations thing or maybe just when he saw Bucky left with a friend who went back in time and left him with nothing but a notebook of things to check out and a corpse necklace and felt for him. In essence, Bucky is wearing around another pair of dual identities in TFATWS-- the Bucky who died in WW2 and the Bucky who is still alive again now in the present-- as given back/given to him and represented by the once and future Captain Americas, who also happen to be the guys he’s loved (in different ways) the most in his life. That he’s wearing them is a sign that he wants to be Sgt. Barnes again-- this newer version of himself. It’s progress from the man who shuddered at stuff around his neck and TFATWS shows us that in other scenes as well, in other ways (his hoodie & jacket combo when they go to talk to Zemo; his signature jacket with a higher collar than we’ve seen him in since he left for war.) The wardrobe choices show an evolution-- a willingness to try to a new place of managing what he’s been through. 

But wearing those dog tags around Sam in TFATWS? (And wearing them when he and Sam weren’t really communicating ahead of it?) Yeah. The parallel to Bucky showing up in Delacroix with a whole new outfit for Sam’s new identity as Captain America is that it was Sam who gave Bucky the modern half of his dog tags (and the chain, which is lighter silver and from the present era) and that’s why Bucky has been wearing them. Steve gave him a reminder of the guy he used to be, even if that guy was still pretty dead but Sam gave him a duplicate-- one that represented the guy who belongs to more modern times and is alive. One tag is death; two is life. 

[romanceimp]

Bitter Taste Pt. 2: Iwaizumi x reader

Part 1 is here 

tw: mentions of uncomfortable relationships, situations with drinking, and excessive sadness. but this piece is actually pretty fluffy and sweet overall xx Iwa turns the lock inside your door for you and you stumble inside. He reaches out and catches you for the nth time that night. “Hey, whoa, I’ll help you, okay?” You groan in protest but cling to his arm. “I- umm- wanna brush my teeth, because of…” “Yeah,” he nods. He doesn’t want to add to your embarrassment. He stares around in the dark of your house before finding the light switch.

The kitchen is painted a light green and the clock on the wall shows that it's a little after 2AM. The clock ticks and the sink drips. You release his arm and shuffle towards the stairs but turn back before you go. “I’m really okay, you don’t have to- babysit me,” you giggle, eyes tired. Iwaizumi makes no moves to leave and instead takes in your state; you’re always beautiful but there’s something new to you that he hasn’t seen before. “You can stay if you want of course… but I’m going to get cleaned up… oh, would you mind-umm...” You turn your back to him and peer over your shoulder. “Could you?” you ask again and gesture to the back of your dress. “Oh! sure,” Iwa moves closer to you and examines the dress. He’s surprised to find small silk buttons up the back instead of a zipper. “I can normally undo them myself, but my head feels funny,” you mumble. “I don’t mind helping…” He works his way down the back of the dress. It’s difficult for his large fingers to undo such delicate buttons but he manages. Staring at your spine he realises you’re missing the wings of your costume. They looked so natural at the party he was sure they were sprouting from your back. Your arms clutch the loosening garment to your chest. He undoes the last button and tries his best to not let his eyes linger on your bare back out of respect. “There you go,” he announces. He takes a step back and you thank him before scurrying up the stairs.

Iwa blinks. He walks through the open room past the kitchen and towards the section of your space that's your living room. There’s a small desk in between two large bookcases off to the left and the desk faces a window. A wide variety of books sit on the shelves in seemingly no real order, except the mangas. Psychology, philosophy, mythology, fiction, non-fiction, adventure novels, crime, Crime and Punishment, and a few poets' collected works. He turns his attention back to the desk. A plant grows in the window sill, and a mess of papers cover the surface of the desk, hiding an old laptop. His eye is caught on the curvy letters of your handwriting in an open book. He begins to read and then stops himself as soon as he realises what the writing is. It’s a poem and not for his eyes. He didn’t read much, not more than a couple lines… but he now sees a side of you and he hates himself for not seeing it before, though he supposes you hide it very well. You are not nearly as happy as you want others to perceive you... or perhaps it’s better to say you’re not nearly as happy as you desire to be.

“Hi again,” Iwa jumps feeling like he was caught. Your  smirk is sleepy but still playing across your face. “Are you snooping?” you probe. Iwazumi starts to explain but you laugh and brush him away, “it’s fine Iwa, I have nothing to hide from you.” The smile on your face is full of lightheartedness and understanding… normally you’re quick witted and bantering back and forth with him or Oikawa but perhaps it was because you didn’t feel well? Or maybe because you’re at home? But you’re different here… softer. Those words you wrote flash through his mind. “Are you alright?” he asks before thinking better of it. You ‘mhm’ a small reply then pad into the kitchen. “Do you want some tea?” you gesture to the powder blue kettle. “I’m good, thanks,” you nod in response and flip the kettle on for the water to boil. “So Iwa-” you start but he stops you. “Please call me Hajime?” A soft smile paints your expression as you lean against the counter, “alright then, Hajime.” He swallows hard hearing you say his first name like that. The rasp in your voice, the lilt, oh how he wanted you to say his name again. But the water now boiling, your attention was on making your tea. ‘Hajime’ ringing in his ears, he pictured how many ways you could say it. And for once, he indulged in imagining his name spilling from your lips as he lay between your thighs.

“Hey,” you pull him from his thoughts as you sit down next to him. “Any of your girlfriends ever call you Haji-bae?” you ask, that impish grin now back as you giggle to yourself. “No,” he laughs softly, more amused with you than your joke, “no they have not.” You sigh and place the mug on the coffee table, “that’s a shame, opportunity missed if you ask me.” Hajime narrows his eyes, “are you going to start calling me that?” You stare at the ceiling carefully considering your answer, “nah, I like saying your name too much.” Hajime looks down at his hands. If the situation were any different he would ask you out right there, but after the night and how weird Ushijima had been, he knew now wasn’t the time. Iwaizumi wasn’t a patient man, but for this, for you he would be.

“Wanna watch cheesy reality tv?” Iwaizumi chuckles before answering, “sure.” You flip on the tv and settle down on the couch.

Tonight~ on Kitchen Nightmares, Gordon helps a failing Italian restaurant whose sanitation standards have gone down the drain, ‘what is that?!?!’

You both watch in silence for a moment before you look over at him. “I’m really okay, and I don’t want you feeling like you have to take care of me,” you lean your head on his shoulder. The weight of that night, mixed with the heaviness of your head made your eyes start to droop. “I’m just- I’d rather you be here because you want to be, not because I got too drunk and made a fool of myself.” You pull your knees in closer to your chest. Hajime looks down at you, “I want to be here… and that wasn't your fault. Ushijima shouldn’t have pushed you like that.” You sigh, “I mean I guess, but I should have been more clear, should have told him no.” Iwa moves his arm and pulls you in closer. “Hey, I was watching… it’s not your fault, at all, okay?” Your head on his chest feels warm and his heart jumps at the way you nuzzle against him. You nod softly, eyes closed. Looking down at you Iwa thinks back to those words on those pages. “Here,” he murmurs as he moves both your bodies. Now he’s laying on his back, and you’re on his chest, one arm draped over you. Your hand rests on his free arm, your thumb drawing circles on his skin. You still almost completely and Iwa assumes you’ve fallen asleep, which is what he wanted. But he perks hearing you whisper, “you’ve got goosebumps.” There is something about you that’s so pure. He’d noticed it slightly before but it was so evident in your exhausted state. It’s something that Hajime wants to protect and he feels relief in holding you this close. No one can hurt you when you’re here. And suddenly Hajime hopes that he will never be someone to cause you pain. But laying with you at 3:07am, he makes the promise that if he ever were to hurt you, he would then make amends. Because promising to never hurt someone is unrealistic, people are unintentional with their cruelty at times.

You’re so warm, and your breath pattern is synced to his. It’s a new feeling for him, one he can't begin to define as his eyes grow heavy. The light of the tv, the sound of the clock ticking, you, sleep.

“Hajime, hey,” he’s awoken to the grey light of dawn and your voice. You sit up slightly, squinting and rubbing an eye. It’s raining, the water droplets falling rhythmically against the glass.  “We fell asleep,” you grumble, your voice raspy. Iwa can’t help but to wish you both were still sleeping.  You climb off the couch and stand looking at him. He sits up slowly and yawns. The tv, still on, asks if you’re still watching. He takes a deep breath and then stands as well, stretching. He was still wearing his jeans from the night before.

You pad towards the stairs and start to climb. Iwa looks for where he left his keys. “Are you coming?” you ask, turning around. Hajime blinks, “you want me to?” he checks. You roll your eyes and extend your hand. He takes it and follows you up the stairs. “Hajime, we were already sleeping on each other, and its like, 5-something, would be silly for you to go now.”

You push open the door to your room, stripping off your hoodie, revealing a simple tank top. You fling the hoodie into a chair and flop into your bed. “I don't mind if you take your jeans off,” you mumble into the pillows. “You sure?” Iwa confirms. “Yes I’m sure,” you laugh, “I wouldn’t say it otherwise… I’d say something like ‘keep your jeans on’ if that's what I meant.” You roll your head over to look at him. He squints down at you, a playful smirk slowly creeping across his face. “Is this just a ploy to get me out of my pants?” You huff a laugh, and brush away the idea with your hand. “Nah, you’re a gentleman, so I trust you.”  His smirk fades into a genuine smile, you’re so sincere saying you trust him like this. Perhaps it’s your exhaustion that makes you more literal.

He slowly takes his jeans off and climbs into your bed. He lays on his back next to you, his arm slightly extended as an invitation. He wanted to let you break the space between you. He would have understood if you’d kept your distance, but his heart fills as you lay your head on his chest. Your fingers draw lazy circles over his clothed shoulder. He relishes in the intimacy of the situation. The faint smell of perfume on your skin and the sheets, the way you sigh every so often, not yet asleep. You blink up at him and then smile, eyes closing once more and you cling to him tighter. “I didn’t want you to go,” you whisper. “Is that selfish?” “Maybe, but it doesn’t matter, I wanted to stay.”

Hajime watches as your breathing slows again. His thumb rubs up and down on the exposed skin of your back. The grey light, crisp sheets, rain on the roof, you, sleep for a second time.

This time Hajime awakens to the sound of your phone ringing somewhere in your room. You’d both moved, he was spooning you now, holding you close to him. The sound ceased, you remained still and he was hopeful it hadn’t woken you. Then the sound started again. You stirred, turning to bury your face into his chest. The sound stopped eventually, and he found his hand stroking your back in an effort to lull you back to sleep. It was starting to work when your phone went off again. “Oh my god, who is that?” you groan and climb out of bed. You follow the sound to your hoodie crumpled in the chair and remove your phone from your pocket.

Upon examination you see 3 missed calls and 8 texts from Ushijima. You utter a sound of disgust before unlocking your phone. A 4th call starts to come through but you hit the red button and quickly type out a message beneath what he had earlier sent.

Are you home?

Did you make it home?

Was Iwaizumi a gentleman?

Are you okay?

Hello

Y/n

Y/n

Pick up

I'm sleeping off a hangover

“Is everything okay?” Hajime asks. You nod and stand up, facing the window. “Who was it?” You keep your back to him as you grumble, “Wakatoshi.” Iwa watches as you take a deep breath and turn back to him with your usual bright smile. “You wanna go get breakfast? It’s umm-” you check your phone for the time, 3 new messages, “it’s almost 11 now.”  “Sure, I’d like that,” he smiles.

to be added to the taglist 

[malfoys-demigod]

You, Me, and Salsa Nights

Leo Valdez x Reader

A/N: It was brought to my attention that @kwilliamoon thinks my Leo fics are bomb and I love them so much for that. Enjoy, all! 

Request from them: PLS PLS UHHHH CAN I REQUEST LIKE A LEO FIC WHERE HIM AND HIS GF ARE IN THR MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT AND THEY CANT SLEEP SO THEY GO INTO THEIR BIG LIVING ROOM AND HE KINDA TEACH HER SALSA OR SMTH AND THEY DANCE LIKE THAT IN A CUTE WAY??

Word Count: 1.6k 

After another long-lasting and draining day at Camp Half-Blood, Leo Valdez was finally done with the day. It was Friday, which meant he went through the last of many things for the weekday. He was finished with the last cabin inspection first thing in the morning, greek classes, battle training, various activities and chores, competition, and campfire sing-along, which he was glad to avoid during the weekends, now that he could have the option to dodge the favorite hobbies of the children of Apollo. 

With it being eleven o’clock in the evening, it was curfew time, and Leo felt a wave of relief the moment he crashed into his comfy single-bed. ‘Happy Friday indeed,’ he thought to himself as his eyes closed, breathing in slowly as he tried falling asleep. 

It was only a few minutes past eleven o’clock when Leo’s face wrinkled in disappointment as he frustratingly sat back up, opening his irritated eyes. What was wrong with him? Why did he feel the need not to sleep at the moment? He shook his head and laid his back against the bed again, trying to knock himself asleep once again. He closed his eyes harder, trying to tell his body that it was time to doze off. 

Not even one minute had passed when Leo’s head felt like an erupting volcano. He started grumbling curse words in Spanish as he sat back up again, placing his hand on his forehead. He looked around the room, examining all his half-siblings, who have succeeded in falling asleep unlike him, which made him envious of what they were doing at the moment. Since his body was not up for sleeping, he had no problem getting out of his steel bunk bed, actively, but slowly, to make sure he wouldn’t wake up anybody. 

Luckily for him, he was nearby the iconic fire pole of his cabin, which comes down from the second floor, the floor he was currently at, all the way to the ground floor. He grabbed onto the pole and made his way down to the ground floor, which was always unclean and messy, filled with junk most of the time. 

Leo looked around the room, checking out the workbench with overflew with scrap metal, screws, bolts, washers, nails, rivets, and a million other machine parts. He may have had the energy to get out of bed, but did not have the enthusiasm to do any work, plus, there was another chance of waking anyone up. 

He made his way to the exit of the cabin, which had a lot of gears around, as he slowly opened the door and stood by the entrance of his cabin. He wasn’t scared of getting caught by authorities such as Mr. D or Chiron, because he was a counselor! He could have made a small, white lie and defended himself by saying he thought he heard someone try to sneak out. Besides, he knew a couple of people, cabin-mate or not, who would also be seen, awake at this ungodly hour. 

Leo was leaning by the brick wall of the entrance, looking all the way at Cabin Four, the cabin covered in beautiful flowers and tomato plants, which would grow on the walls and doorway. It wasn’t hard for Leo to find his girlfriend, Y/N, who would be often seen at night, randomly watering the wildflowers and roses, which grow on the porch, as a way to serve her boredom at night. She too was someone who had trouble sleeping like Leo. 

It didn’t take long for Y/N to discover that her boyfriend was up at night as well on that day. As she was watering the flowers, she noticed a small spot of fire from the corner of her eyesight, waving in mad directions. She looked up and turned to see a figure by Cabin Nine, waving around the small spot of fire she could feel from the corner of her eyesight. 

There was a smile on her face the moment she realized that it was her boyfriend Leo, who was the one by the entrance of Cabin Nine. Y/N quickly finished watering the plants and discretely jogged from her cabin to Leo’s. Leo was opening his arms wide, as Y/N’s body crashed with his, hugging him as tight as she could. 

Leo could hear small giggles from her girlfriend, as he pulled away to see that she was smiling happily from her giggles. “Couldn’t sleep again, mi amor?” he obviously asked her, placing a strand of her hair in the back of her ear. 

Y/N nodded, “Guilty as charged.” Leo nodded as well, understanding her. “Me neither. And I even thought today was one of the most tiring days we’ve had,” he complained playfully. 

Y/N laughed at his complaint, “You probably are starting to lack cardio, Valdez,” she sarcastically suggested, “I can’t sleep because I fear I might have nightmares,” she embarrassingly said, “like last night.” She looked down to the ground, contemplating on the nightmare she experienced recently. 

Leo placed a finger on her chin, causing her to look back up at him. “Hey,” he quietly said, “Nightmares aren’t something to be ashamed of. We all get ‘em too, Y/N. Like literally, last week, I didn’t want to tell you this but I dreamt that Festus ate all my scrap metal, which caused me to wake up screaming and waking up my other cabin-mates.”

Y/N’s embarrassed smile turned into laughter as she giggled again, “And is that why I overheard Jake Mason and Nyssa Barrera complain about you last week?” Leo shrugged sarcastically, without an answer, meaning that it was definitely about that. Y/N nodded in understanding, which caused Leo to shake his head, “Anyways,” he said, “I have a proposition for you, mi amor.”

“I’m listening,” Y/N said. 

Leo turned around to open the door to his cabin. He took a hold of Y/N’s hand as he brought her inside his cabin. Y/N hesitantly pulled his hand, which made him turn around to her attention. “Leo, are you sure this is a good idea for me to be in your cabin? At this hour? I think I should get going-”

“Relaaaax, mamacita,” Leo comforted her, placing his hands on her shoulders, “I’m a counselor of this cabin. I’ve got power here.” he confidently assured her. Y/N took a deep breath and gave in, nodding at Leo, who smiled in relief. 

“Okay,” he said, “I need cardio, and you need something to help distract you from thinking about another round of nightmares, right?” 

“Mhm,” Y/N verified, “And what about them?”

Leo grinned with something on his mind as he turned around to switch on the radio he built, turning on an energetic song, but at a low volume, which was perfect for the two of them to hear. Y/N tilted her head, wondering why he did that. “What’s happening, Leo?”

A smirk grew on Leo’s face as he walked closer to Y/N, placing one hand on her waist, and another on her shoulder. “Cuera Maraca y Bongo is happening and I’m going to teach you how to dance the salsa.”

Y/N’s eyes grew wide, but she followed Leo and placed her hands on him as well. “Are you sure this is a good proposition, Leo?” she hesitantly asked him. 

“Again, relax, Y/N/N,” he reminded her, “You’re going to be a natural in this. If my mother taught a hard-headed person like me, then I can teach someone who’s unsure of whether she has the moves in her or not.”

-- 

Y/N, as instructed by Leo, rocked back on her right foot to the beat of the song. She smoothly shifted her weight from the front to back to shift her body position. Leo smiled as she cooperated and executed it well. He swung his hips slightly to accentuate the movement, which she willingly followed. 

She didn’t question how smooth of a dancer her boyfriend was, but instead, she focused on becoming somehow smooth of a beginner dancer that night. 

Once the song was finished, Leo and Y/N were still in each other’s arms, looking at each other with admiration. Leo was astonished at how quickly his girlfriend could learn the salsa, as he took weeks to months, learning from the footsteps of his own mother. There was more to learn about Y/N from his point of view. 

From Y/N’s point of view, she was staggered by how excellent of a dancer he was. She was always there when Leo would taunt others, teasing them that they were to be cautious of his ‘sick dance moves’ he kept in his sleeves. She never knew how much of a skilled dancer he actually was, and they were in fact, the sickest moves she ever witnessed. 

It was time to break the silence when Leo and Y/N coincidentally spoke at the same time, expressing, “You’re amazing.” There was awestruck in their reactions, for saying the same thing at the same time, and for bringing out the truth all of a sudden. 

Y/N chuckled, grinning at Leo, “Leo, I never knew how much of a dancer you were. This is definitely something you should show off to everyone here.”

Leo, flattered, shook his head and hands, “No, no, no, as much as I want to show this off, and believe me, I do, since I have the right to,” he teased, “YOU, my lovely girlfriend, should be the one showing off those moves- well, to the girls, definitely NOT the guys here- er- anyways, Y/N, you’re going to be natural in such a quick time, believe me. You have gifts.”

Y/N smiled, “Aw, thanks, Leo.” Then, all of a sudden, her smile turned into a surprised facial expression, as Y/N figured something out. “Leo! I think we just found a way to use up sleepless nights.”

Leo, happy as ever, leaned in and kissed Y/N’s forehead, and said, “You, me, and salsa nights.”