#shit where he was little more than a glorified extra.

[hypodermicfroggy]

Praying and hoping and wishing that once this last wretched season of this neocon wet dream show is finally over, my boy Wes can finally get work doing literally anything else because I'm tired of his acting ability being absolutely wasted on these ungrateful chucklefucks.

[angelsforthenight]

MRS. AND MRS. SMITH — abby anderson x fem!reader

ways you can help gaza 🇵🇸

do not buy tlou2 remastered!

a/n: this is way more inspired by the mr and mrs smith series (2024) not the 2005 one!!! this explains why they’re wives :3

you’re an assassin along with your assigned partner/wife, abby anderson. fed up with her toxic behaviour, you’re pleased when the mission is centred around you seducing a man for murderous motives. why? well, because you know it’ll get under abby’s skin. little did you know, things would blow over way more than you thought it would.

cw: mdni, owen feature🤮🤮, long fic, kinda slow-burn ig?, femme fatale, arranged marriage couple, kinda toxic relationship, violence, mention of blades, car sex, mean!abby, bratty!reader, dom!abby, degrading, bdsm, ass-smacking, finger-fucking, cursing, jealous!abby, hair pulling, dry-humping, finger-sucking, choking, rough sex, teasing, squirting.

“short brown hair, rugged beard. got that?” abby’s murmuring voice comes in from the earpiece you’ve got attached. you groan and roll your eyes, wishing you could mute the goddamn thing.

see, any other day, you would’ve loved to hear your wife’s pretty little voice guiding you — her praises when you’d do something right or her degrades if you’d do something wrong both sending shivers down your spine, compelling you to do whatever she wanted.

but not today. today you’re over it. so what do you respond with?

“yeah, i know, anderson. we both got the fucking brief.” you hiss. you know how pissed abby gets whenever you curse at her; so that’s exactly what you do. you relish at the thought of her gritting her teeth, not being able to snap at you in front of all of these people.

that’s right, you two are at a charity gala event. it’s fancy. too fancy to the point where it’s intimidating: glistening chandeliers, artistic decorations and bustling people wearing glamorous attire. you and abby needed to blend in with the crowd so not only are you two dressed smartly for the occasion but are also split up. not that you’re complaining. you’re sick of her. sick of her petulance whenever you’d get glorified by the agency instead of her, sick of how sometimes she can be so simple-minded, sick of how, at points, she lacks at making you feel loved.

your job is to take out an owen moore, for unforeseen reasons. you never question what the agency tells you to do, neither does abby.

you’re planning to lure him in an concealed area with your enticing charisma, make him believe you’re going to sleep with him before slicing him dead with your blade. you prowl through the many people, scanning the area with a keen eye to find him. claude debussy plays as background music, taming your harrowing nerves. killing is never easy.

“found him yet?” abby sighs.

“please don’t distract me.” there’s way too many people and it’s beginning to stress you out. what if you never find him? failing the mission is the last thing you wanna do.

“i’m getting bored. plus, small talk with strangers pisses me off.” she complains.

“not my goddamn problem.” you retort, the ends of your tight-fitting dress flailing against your legs as you pick up the pace, worrying if there’s not enough time, worrying if he’s even here in the first place.

“literally what is your problem? acting extra fuckin’ snobby tonight...”

your eyebrows knit together. abby always finds a way to get under your skin.

“let’s not fucking start—“ you’re about to snap and make yourself look like a fool in front of all of these people until somebody accidentally bumps into you: spilling his drink all over your dress. great!

“oh shit. sorry, i didn’t mean that.” you hear a man’s voice as you stare down at your ruined dress in disbelief. you slowly glance up at the culprit; only to find the noted brown hair and rugged beard staring right back at you. owen moore.

despite your worked up embarrassment and your extreme annoyance, you manage to flash a smile.

“it’s okay, but... you do realise you owe me now right?” you bat your eyelashes, hoping you don’t look silly.

“and what’s that?” owen chuckles, rubbing the back of his head and making immense eye contact. he’s already flirting back, you think. this is about to be so fucking easy.

with a few drinks, owen’s already tipsy and you’re leading him to the vast room. you make him believe you’re just as woozy; stumbling and giggling away. you take advantage of his obliviousness: your hand brushing against the slit of your dress, fingers cupping the wooden handle of the blade in the garter wrapped around your thigh. whilst he laughs and babbles nonsense, you carefully trace the edge of the blade — feelings of excitement rushing to the surface. regardless of the fact that killing is never easy, it’s also never not exhilarating.

you’re about to fully whip out the blade until owen decides to be bold: setting his slobbery hands against the small of your back and trying to lean in for a kiss.

“woah.” you feign a grin, pulling his hands away. “we go at my pace.”

“aww… please?” he mumbles, trying to seem like an adorable puppy but instead making it look disgusting. this is sad, you think. you try to grab your knife again but he’s now grabbing your arms; desperate for a fruitless smooch.

“come on… don’t play hard to get.” he growls, his sudden aggression catching you a little off guard. no need for stress, you know what to do. your knee prepares itself to kick hard in between his legs until somebody’s arm suddenly emerges from behind, wrapping around his neck and squeezing hard.

“what—“ you breathe in bewilderment, eyes widening. despite owen choking and uselessly clawing at abby’s arm for escape, her gaze stays intently trained on yours; a death stare. it’s unnerving.

it doesn’t take long for owen to turn cold and slack, eyes rolling to the back of his head. abby lets him go, but not without cracking his neck first, and you watch as he flops onto the floor.

“what the fuck, abby…” you mutter, palming a frustrated hand across your face. “where the hell did you even come from?”

“there’s doors.” she tilts her head towards the backdoor behind her. you hadn’t even noticed it. your eyes travel back to her; irresistibly ogling at the black suit clinging to her body, complimenting her form. you almost forget you’re supposed to be mad at her.

the blonde chuckles wryly, a petty exhale. “you starin’? assumed pussy boys were more your type.”

“real fucking mature.” you snarl. “i had him. i was this close to killing him, abby.”

“you were taking too long.” abby shrugs, condescendingly pouting. you grit your teeth.

“jealousy? really? grow up.”

“at least i watch where i’m going. nice dress, the wet splotch is a nice touch, really.” she slanders, narrowing her eyes. you scoff, trying to pretend as if that dig didn’t offend you.

“you’re a fucking child. help me with the body.”

you two leave the building with ease, pretending as if owen is a friend that’s had too much to drink, wrapping his arms around the both of your shoulders and leading him to your car. abby opens the boot and you two push him inside. you two will decide on how deal with the body later.

for now, you’re sat on the passenger’s seat whilst abby drives, the two of you salty and quiet. abby’s driving way too fast; her hand gripping the steering wheel like her life depends on it. she’s obviously fuming.

“can you slow down?” you glare at her.

“you owe me… i mean, who even says that?” abby grumbles, ignoring your request.

“a lot of people do. now slow down, we don’t wanna attract attention from police knowing there’s a dead body back there.”

“not to mention that you’ve had an attitude since last night! the way you were flirting with that oliver guy? or whatever the fuck his name was, had to be on purpose. to spite me.”

abby starts driving even faster, increasing your stress. “owen.” you correct, “you’re so self absorbed!” you continue to beg for her to slow down.

“he’s, like, the embodiment of revolting too. don’t even get me started at the way he was trying to force himself on you. i should’ve put a bullet in his brain.” abby rattles on, pure jealousy oozing from her tone.

“you were definitely enjoying it too. i know you were.” she turns her head to look at you, not paying attention to the road.

“abby. abby!” you scream as abby almost runs through a poor family trying to cross the road.

“fuck.” abby murmurs as she swerves messily, just in the nick of time, steering into a deserted field. the two of you are out of breath from the fright, hearts racing from the adrenaline. abby rests her head on the wheel, letting out a long sigh.

“just what the hell is the matter with you?” you scold, “all this shit over a mission? are you serious?” abby’s lack of response leads you to continue yelling at her.

“of course we’re going to have to flirt with our targets now and then! the fuck happened to your professionalism? if i had known you’d be acting like this then i would’ve never—“

“why didn’t you kiss him?” abby raises her head to look up at you, her face blank. you blink, a little taken aback by the unexpected question.

“i…” you look away. you’re not exactly up for abby knowing that you couldn’t kiss him because of her. “where even are we anyway?”

“nice try. since you’re so professional, why didn’t you kiss him? he clearly wanted to. you could’ve easily killed him then.” the corner of abby’s lips arch up into a smirk — the familiar smug look of hers that never fails to get you weak.

“for someone who’s had so much to say just a second ago…” she leans in a little, arm resting against your headrest, “…you’re awfully quiet.” her voice is hushed down to a soft whisper, and you swear you’re beginning to feel a little lightheaded.

“look, abby, you’re my wife… so…” you mumble in response to her pressing question, avoiding eye contact. abby chuckles, loosening her tie. here comes the floodgates.

“don’t play dumb and pretend as if the agency didn’t arrange that.” her finger presses against the dome light of the car; illuminating your embarrassed face. just what she wanted to see.

“you’ve been enjoying yourself, seeing me all jealous like this. you liked playing femme fatale, hmm?” her finger slowly twists itself around a strand of your hair, before she yanks a handful, forcing your head closer. you wince, eyes clenched shut. your cunt decides to flex too — reminding you that she’s got a mind of her own, and that she finds being in an empty field like this, in abby’s car, pretty fucking hot.

“let’s face it…” abby whispers, so close that you can feel her breath tickling your ear, shooting heavy tingles down your body.

“you want me so bad it hurts.” her eyes drift down to your thighs that are starting to shift uncomfortably in your seat. it’s beginning to ache down there and it seems like abby’s aware of that. you can’t help it. after all, abby sitting so close: loose strands of hair framing her face, unfastened tie and darkened eyes fixed on you, feels so good that it’s suffocating.

you squirm a little and abby grins, her fingers still laced in your hair. her grip slightly tightens as she licks her lips. she looks hungry.

“maybe what hurts is your fingers in my hair.” you quip, though your voice is a little shaky.

“maybe you need to fix your attitude.” abby retorts, “like, seriously, pipe down… you’re probably soaking down there.” she snickers, right on the money.

“fuck you.” you glare at her, gauging her reaction. you want to believe you’re saying this out of sheer anger for what went down tonight, but deep down, you know that’s not the case. in reality, you just want to get under abby’s skin. it’s what you’ve been craving since the beginning; to get her pissed.

you wipe the pleased look off of abby’s face, which is now replaced with a frown. your heart pounds with anticipation: so much so that your chest faintly heaves, lips parted.

abby’s eyes wander to your lips and in one swift movement, she pulls you in; pressing her lips against yours. you’re quick to kiss her back, the sweetness of her mouth sealing yours. fervent can’t even begin to explain the way you two are kissing. akin to wild animals, small muffled groans escape the both of you.

desperation is thick in the confined air of the car, as abby pulls away and shrugs her blazer off. you stare up at her.

“hurry… with your slow-ass.” you whine.

“watch your fucking mouth. c’mere.” abby commands. you naturally do as she says and she begins to unzip your dress — not without making sure to go deliberately slow.

“why do you have to be so mean?” you sigh, burying your face in the crook of her neck.

“oh, trust me… i’m only gonna be meaner.” she warns whilst planting gentle kisses on your neck. you’ve always admired abby for her ability to vary from being sour to tender in seconds. little did you know, the peppered kisses on your neck served as a prior apology to how cruel she’s going to treat you in a second.

once everything is off, abby marvels at your body. like a painting in an art gallery, she makes sure to pay attention to even the minuscule details of your body. it’s her favourite thing in the entire world.

“turn around.” abby mutters, her eyes hazy; voice bleeding with lust.

“what?”

“just do it.”

you hesitantly do as she says. abby beams: finding your weak resistance amusing yet is also excited to break you.

“now… bend over.” she coos, clearly poking fun.

you shoot her a glare, cheeks flushed. “what am i, your dog?”

“don’t piss me off.”

you glare at her for a few seconds longer before sighing, reluctantly bending over.

“arching that back and everything… wooow.” abby teases, “and to think i haven’t even touched you yet.”

“oh, just fuck off, abby…” you complain, the embarrassment beginning to overwhelm you.

“what was that?”

“i said fuck—“ but you’re cut off by a yelp when abby brings her palm down flat against your ass. you flinch violently; very, very taken off guard.

“mm? didn’t quite hear you. repeat yourself.” abby taunts, smacking you again. you grunt and flinch yet again, feeling the sting of her slap coarse through your body. abby’s humiliating you, milking every last drop of your embarrassment. the worst thing yet? you’re enjoying this way more than you should be.

“i’m not kidding. speak.” abby commands, showing no signs of mercy. your skin is already starting to gleam red, and your pussy? well, it’s a fucking party down there.

“abby…” you cry, completely under her control. the more she smacks, flesh recoiling under her palm, the more your head goes blank.

“go on babe… finish what you were saying before.” abby prods. this time, when she smacks you, her fingers grasp the flesh on your ass tightly; watching in delight as her fingertips leave little red marks. you’re trembling like a leaf, both from the pain and the arousal.

see, the thing with abby is that she never likes to let things go. she adores jabbing at you until she gets what she wants.

another smack, this one so hard that you need to press your palms against the window. abby then grips your waist and pulls you way closer; making your ass press against her hips.

“you wanna get fucked?” abby mutters, teasingly bringing your waist back and forth against her hips: hard, playful thrusts. your bare cunt pressing against her crotch is, without a doubt, driving you insane. you frantically nod in response to her question, in which abby replies with latching her hand around your neck; forcing you upright so that your back is now against her chest.

“use your words.”

“y-yes…” tears begin to stream down your face. you’re desperate, yearning for her touch as if it’s a life or death situation.

“so finish what you were saying.” her fingers slightly squeeze around the sides of your neck.

“i-i told you to f-fuck off but i d-didn’t… haa… mean it.” you splutter. the you a while ago would’ve had her mouth agape in horror at your behaviour right now.

“see? that wasn’t so hard, was it?” abby coos, her fingers tracing down your stomach, in between your thighs. long, drawn-out circles are traced on your swollen clit, her fingers pressing just the right amount of pressure. you groan, and abby taps her chin against your shoulder; smirking at how your legs are writhing, desperate for more.

“where’d all your attitude go?” the blonde ridicules. her other hand moves over to your breast, squeezing it, her thumb caressing your nipple. as to the hand working on you, her middle and ring finger brush against your folds; up and down. she’s touching you but it doesn’t feel like it’s enough: abby knows that.

“don’t do this to me, abby…” you exasperate. she lets out a breathy chuckle before flipping you over and setting you down onto the car seat. she reclines it back, eyes yet again fixed on you. you stare up at her with big glossy eyes, your head blank as if you’ve been dumbed down.

abby gloats at how helpless you look, grabbing your face with one hand and squishing your cheeks. “you look stupid.”

“shut up and fuck me.” you mutter in a muffled tone. abby laughs as if what you’ve said was the funniest joke in the entire world. you wonder if abby can feel your cheeks burning up against her palm.

before you know it, abby plows her thick fingers so far inside your cunt that you’d squeal, if it wasn’t for abby’s hand still clenched on your cheeks.

“this what you wanted?” abby purrs, fingers curling up against your g-spot already. you moan, back arching and squirming.

“oh! riiiiight, you can’t speak.” she gloats, playfully shaking your head with her hand. you whine in embarrassment, yet you secretly enjoy how she’s handling you like a doll.

abby’s finger-fucking you rough, wet squelch noises filling up the car. the sound of it is so erotic that it leaves you dizzy, eyes rolling to the back of your head. the blonde releases her grip on your face but not her thumb, that slips inside of your mouth.

“suck.” you mindlessly do as she says, as if you’re brainwashed. you can see abby’s cheeks tint red when you slowly suck her thumb, making sure to keep eye contact.

abby chuckles, looking away. seems like she didn’t think you’d actually do it.

“you’re shy.” you point out. you triumph over the fact that now it’s her turn to be embarrassed, but not for long.

“shut the fuck up.” abby says brusquely, her fingers operating way harder than before; relentlessly pounding against your g-spot. you cry, feeling overwhelmingly good.

that rigid attitude you had a moment ago? now dead and buried. you feel surreal, a series of mewls and sobs leaving your lips.

“nothing smart to say anymore? you look fucking pathetic.” and she’s right. you look like a hot mess. abby smothers your tears all over your face. you mindlessly move your hips, fucking yourself on her fingers. she smirks, loving what she’s seeing. you feel a knot beginning to untie in your stomach, sublime throbs coursing all over your body.

“i’m cumming…” you manage to choke out.

“i know.” abby buries her face in the crook of your neck, and you shiver at the feel of her breath against your skin.

“i’ll decide to be nice and let you finish.”

and that’s your cue. with an ending moan to seal it off, you feel your body tense up, eyes widening. abby leans in and presses her forehead against yours. you squeeze your eyes shut, before your body relaxes. you’re panting like a dog, staring up at abby with foggy and depleted eyes.

“so cute…” she murmurs before cupping your chin and kissing you — this time, soft and tender as opposed to the way she was kissing you before. you feel warm.

so absorbed in each other, you two forget about how you’re in the middle of nowhere and how the body in the car boot needs to be dealt with. for now, you two have something more important to worry about: how you’re gonna clean up the mess you’ve left all over the chair and dashboard.

a/n: you made it !!! thought it’d be funny if the target was owen😭😭 hope u enjoyed reading <3

[amourtoken]

Oh my god I've been talking to @as-above-so-below1000 about this but imagine your boyfriend being roommates with Matt and you end up moving in cause you're always over anyway. ALSO this isn't edited I did it at work forgive me I'll rewrite it to be even grosser asap

cw: cheating (deserved tbh), Matt's evil, raw sex, recording, oral (f receiving), breeding, overstimulation, daddy kink matt u know it, dacryphilia, praise (a miracle tbh), belly bulge, squirting, ect.

You thought moving in would mean your boyfriend would pay more attention to you but honestly it just feels like you're a glorified roommate even more now. You do your chores plus his, he spends more time out with other friends than he does at home and 99% of the time when he does get home he immediately goes to sleep so you've started to get restlessly lonely. During all these times, Matt's been quietly watching everything unfold. It irritates the shit out of him that not only is his roommate a lazy cunt but he's also not able to treat the girl WAY out of his league so much as slightly decent. He'd do so much fucking better and he knows it. At the very least, he'd make sure you didn't have to fake those moans he can hear across the apartment anymore, he could make you feel so much better.

Little does Matt know you're having the exact same thoughts! You feel bad about it deep down but fuck he treats you like a real person and at this point that's enough to get you on your knees. Matt constantly asks if you need help around the house, he shares his snacks with you, lounges on the couch and watches shitty reality TV without complaints. He also happily lets you come hang out in his room when you're feeling extra lonely, it started off with you just sitting at his desk or on the floor doing your own thing but didn't take long to evolve into full blown cuddling and sleepovers on his side of the apartment.

your boyfriend doesn't even clock that you've been walking around the house in Matt's oversized shirts and hoodies either, but it gets Matt so hard he gets fucking dizzy. I've said before this mf is territorial as hell and any way he can mark you as his, he's doing. He knows he could do so much more but he's saving it for when the time is right.

It's been a couple weeks since this whole arrangement started and you're still at least somewhat trying to be a decent girlfriend so you bit the bullet and planned a whole big date for your anniversary with your boyfriend. You got a dinner reservation, bought tickets to visit this huge aquarium you've raved about for months and begged to visit and you even bought the pretty little white sundress you have on while pacing your living room and sending text after text to your boyfriend asking where he is and when he'll be home. Matt nearly dropped dead when he saw you in that dress though, it hugs your curves just right and your hair and makeup are done so well too. You look stunning, the only thing marring up that pretty look is the stressed expression on your face.

When you looked up at him with those big teary puppy eyes he swears he's never been so mad in his life. You're explaining the entire ordeal and Matt is just seething, you're dolled up and gorgeous, even went through the trouble of planning this whole thing because your boyfriend wouldn't and this fucker can't even answer a call or show up for it? On your anniversary? Bullshit. You whined about how you should've just planned this date for you and Matt instead and that's when he decided he didn't wanna draw this plan out any longer, he was ending it today. You're not spending another second suffering.

Matt reaches up to try and wipe your tears away without messing up your makeup cause there's no way you're gonna be crying your pretty eyeliner off around him unless it's from him fucking you to tears.

"Please stop wasting your time on this fuck up and let me treat you right, sweetheart. You know I can make you feel so much better, stop lying to yourself."

He's right, you'd be lying if you truly said you thought anyone could treat you better than Matt who's become your best friend in just a few weeks. He does everything right and your boyfriend really did just ghost you on your anniversary, you should get back at him shouldn't you?

And you do. Matt doesn't waste any fucking time throwing you onto his bed and hiking that pretty little dress up your hips. He's wanted literally nothing more than this since you moved in and he's gonna enjoy every second of it. He has your legs over his shoulders and is lapping at your cunt until you're nearly in tears again right away. You can literally feel him smiling against your pussy, he's so fucking full of himself and he's just proving himself right in this moment cause you're pulling his hair and rolling your hips against his face while you're whining and begging for him to keep going. He's never heard you be so loud or genuine, so that's all the proof he needs. He's not satisfied until you're squeezing your thighs around his head like a vice and shaking like a leaf under him while he makes you cum on his tongue.

He's nowhere near done though, and had really planned on being gentle, but he hears your boyfriend pull up and his door close and decides right there that he'd save the softness for next time. Matt damn near folds you in half and is rubbing the tip of his cock right against your overly sensitive clit just to hear you whimper.

"Want this dick? I wanna hear you beg for it, baby. Tell daddy what you need"

Oh! Ofc he's into that. Not that it bugs you, your brain is so fuzzy you don't even think twice about begging for him to fuck you and dropping his name entirely in favor of calling him daddy. He happily "gives in" to your pleading and fills you entirely in a single thrust. The sound you made was nearly inhuman, the stretch made your insides ache but fuck you genuinely don't think you could feel any better. Matt sets a bruising pace immediately and is mouthing off the whole time.

"I know baby- never had dick this good before have you, huh? Taking me so fucking well- good girl"

"Told you I could treat you better, you belong to me. Don't wanna hear another word about that fucking lame ass boyfriend of yours. You're mine."

"Daddy's dick making you dumb, baby? It's okay. You don't need to think, I'll handle it for you."

"Gonna cum again? Fuck- wanna feel you cum around my cock princess, it's okay, cum for me baby-"

You're being so loud you don't even hear your front door open but Matt sure does and that's when he slows his pace, making sure he grinds himself as deep as he can get every time he fills you up and he leans down to suck dark hickeys in as many visible places on your neck as he can. You're in full blown tears at this point and it only gets worse when he pulls your hand to your lower stomach and presses his on top so you can feel how deep he is inside you.

"Bet he never filled you this good, did he?"

"Gonna fuckin' marry you I swear- you'd look so pretty full of my kids"

You can't even tell if he's serious but you hope he is, you'd marry him rn just for how good his dick feels. He hears your phone vibrate from the nightstand and picks it up while still grinding against yours. You finally got a response from your boyfriend, all it says is "where r u" and Matt seeing it before you did is the worst thing that could've happened cause rather than telling you, he just takes it upon himself to answer. He unlocks your phone and opens your camera, you didn't even realize he was recording until he held your face in his free hand and told you to "say hi" which you couldn't do, every time he thrust into you your voice broke off into a pathetic little whimper.

Matt made sure to get a good shot of himself filling you up, and used his free hand to abuse your clit until you were nearly screaming which was exactly what he wanted. He couldn't just end the video on a random note, he really wanted to get his point across. He picked up the pace of his thrusts and his fingers never slowed down until you were convulsing under him again and squirting on his cock. *still* not quite enough, but he pulls out right as he cums to watch it drip down your pussy and then he decides that's probably enough. He sends the video to your boyfriend without a second thought and nearly collapses on top of you, pressing extra kisses to your neck and chest. His door's locked, and he can fight, he doesn't give a shit about repercussions cause he finally has what he wants.

[beemochi-art]

Oreoverse prowl and jazz 8, 18 and 38 :)

8) Prowl gets up significantly earlier than Jazz but still jazz gets up pretty early too. But if prowl doesn’t have to get up. He won’t. Jazz will get up early no matter what. (Unless he’s sick, or hung over.) his internal clock is very good. Jazz has a better time staying up later, night missions and such. Or just staying up reading. Prowl will only stay up late if necessary and if others get to suffer staying up late with in to finish paperwork.

Coffee is incredible necessary for these days.

18) Prowl gets sleepy and will just sit somewhere with his head in his arms. I’d he’s gotta talk he’ll try desperately not to slur his words. If you want him to move, you have to move him. Prowl basically turns into a glorified rag doll, it’s a rare sight.

Jazz is a clingy, giggly drunk. Nothing you say will not be funny. Ultra Magnus scolding him is the funniest thing he’s ever heard. Though anything directed at Prowl he gets hostile, end of the day tho drunk jazz is no great threat. Only prone to saying stupid shit, pouring drinks and empty threats he will not remember tomorrow.

When the two are drunk together oh boy. Jazz is all over prowl. Literally is not going anywhere without him. Don’t try to move prowl at this point cause then there is pissy jazz. Jazz also turns into a horny drunk, loudly telling prowl what he’s going to do to him later.

They both are going to need to get to bed.

Prowl would never get drunk and let jazz deal with him even through drunk prowl is a saint.

As for Jazz, I hope Prowl likes baby sitting. Making sure Jazz doesn’t wonder off places he shouldn’t be, getting into fights he’s not going to win like this and making sure he doesn’t tell ultra Magnus where to stick it. Also make sure he makes it to the trash.

Also getting prepared to deal with grouchy hung over Jazz. Prowl has since taught Jazz the art off fancy drinking.

38) Jazz and Prowl have always wanted kids. He’s always want to be a sire. He’d be more loving than most, but wouldn’t want to be labeled as fun dad and prowl is mean mom. So he’d will keep consistent with punishments when the kids were bad. They’d try to keep it as fair as possible when it comes to chores and taking care of the kids. But Jazz doesn’t mind doing a little extra to keep Prowls life easier.

Prowl would be laying there having to remember that there are new little people in his house. Prowl may not take his work as seriously as he once did. Once cause now he’s twice as busy but his babies come first. No more late night coffee work days.

Prowl has also noticed how full of love Jazz’s optics are when he looks at his bitty are his mate. Prowl gets a little flustered at all the staring.

Jazz is on cloud nine and is the happiest mech who ever lived. He wants more.

[sunlightandsuffering]

Lys, what's the deal with frat boy Eren and feminist Mikasa's past? I know they met at least in high school and are neighbors, that their friendship took a turn for the worse. Did Eren take Mikasa's virginity in high school or college?

omgomg, okay this is getting added to my drabble doc lol, so don't be alarmed if I copy and paste this and ur ask appears again on another post lol!!! But honestly I think I have to figure them out, I really like them being like chilhood friends first, like it jsut adds a fun extra layer to their dynamic! Bc they can drive back home from school together and u have their moms conspiring to get them together and Mikasa is like I HATE HIM!! And u know they do Christmas Eve together and shit lmfaoooo and it causes MUCH chaos !!! BUT i think i wrote a drabble that sort of explains it already, don't know where it went tho lmfao.

But basically, at some point in high school, Mikasa goes Feminist Ultra TM and it becomes part of her personality, and Eren is all for it at first. AND THEN, it begins bc men are awful and Eren is like hOW AM I SUPPOSED TO COMPETE WITH THIS!?!?!? Bc all of Mikasa's friends start getting boyfriends and as occurs in high school relationships, drama ensues and jealousy and it all just poisons Mikasa against men further. And there is Eren, her best friend, 'only man she trusts' AND HE'S BASICALLY BEEN COCK BLOCKED MY FEMINISM!!! She's like I'm never dating, ew men. And Eren is sitting there like 😦😧🧍🏻 I AM A MAN??? I found the drabble tho i'll paste it at the bottom and u can sort of see what I'm going for? Idk if it makes sense tho lol!! Essentially tho, Eren is kind of hopeless bc Mikasa is always hating on men, and he's like a little kid, any attention is good attention, even if it's bad. And so he become MENINIST EREN !! Just bc it gets a rise out of her, and at the very least, she's looking at him now as more than just her wholesome best friend who doesn't count as a man lmfao.

As for the virginity part, as much as I'd love for it to be in high school and have them like have a more solid history, I think it happens in college purely bc that's just where their relationship really sparks ! But idk i gotta get my thoughts together before I write a HARDCORE drabble for them, this was just me spitballing i think

It’s not that Eren hates women. He doesn’t, he really doesn’t, he actually loves women, adores them. 

Mikasa, his childhood best friend turned enemy, well she just brings it out in him. 

He loves watching her get riled up, the fire in those beautiful silvery eyes of hers, it was intoxicating. Fighting became foreplay, and before he knew it, he was a glorified meninist, whatever the fuck that is. 

He can still remember the day it started, the tenth grade probably, Mikasa merrily stomping into class, armed with new knowledge: the wage gap, benevolent sexism, implicit gender bias. And Eren had watched, with horrified eyes as his tender spark of romance with the world’s most beautiful girl, the love of his life was crushed, lit aflame right in front of him… by fucking feminism of all things. Because how was he supposed to compete with a concept, even attempt a relationship when there were limitless facts about how awful men were? How was he supposed to compete with the faults of mankind? Thus, Mikasa didn’t date, she was waiting for a boy so perfect, that he could combat sexism itself, a feminist ally she said. 

Newsflash, they didn’t really exist, at least not in Eren’s experience, and thus, Eren became the very antithesis of everything she represented. And well, here they are. 

He’d been intrigued the first time it happened, an accident at a frat party when she was too drunk to remember much of anything at all. They’d made out a little before snuggling in his bed and Eren had slept contently for the first time in years.

He’d woken up the following morning to a scowl on her face and a hand on his dick, demanding he teach her what all the fuss was about. They’ve been enemies with benefits ever since. 

And Eren finds that despite their rabid dislike of one another, that he quite enjoys their new dynamic.

[commaclear]

I'm curious about the whereabouts of engagement/wedding/promise rings in htid. Tbh I really wanna keep this short because I have four wip google docs open on my laptop and the last thing I need to do is write something that won't help me finish those, but that probablu won't work the way I want it to. Anyways

In htid there's four, maybe even five people who are part of this whole ring thing. The first one I wanna talk about is Sally, bc she's hot and traumatized and I feel like she'd throw a knife at my head if necessary. I know that technically she should have at least two rings, but I get the vibe she only has one and even then I doubt she got it in the traditional sense.

Sally only got married because she got pregnant, so I get the feeling that Fundy was the engagement ring. That being said, I feel like when you've got a relationship with two teenagers, there's a possibility that she has some cheap promise ring that Wilbur stole while they were at the mall together one day. He probably awkwardly presented it to her in the food court, and the memory is heavily skewed in Sally's head because she's over romanticized it in a sad attempt to stay in love with the man incapable of loving her.

I actually believe that she's done a lot of lying to herself for the sake of living in the safety of delulu land. I mean. I don't think. I know. It's very obvious. No one comes out of a relationship like that and still glorifies it without obscuring some details.

Anyways, Sally's probably got some long since oxodized shitty infinity ring sitting somewhere in a box. And then of course there's the formality of a wedding ring that I'm sure she did not get on the wedding day itself. It's probably not a lot, and she probably didn't receive it until well after Fundy's birth. Before their little courthouse marriage, Wilbur probably asked her if she wanted a ring, and she probably told him they needed to save money for the baby. Although, I'm sure she managed to convince herself she'd still get a ring as a surprise because Wilbur always was a bad listener. It was the small sliver of hope that was handcrafted to hurt by a little girl who dreamed of a grand white dress and a nice arrangement of diamonds.

I'm sure she eventually got a ring. And she'd probably taken how long it took a little personally, but she came around to the idea fairly quick. I feel like she still doesn't really take it off. Back then money was tight enough for the small little thing to mean the world to her, and even though she knows she could buy herself something way better now, the sentimental value is too much to even imagine removing it. She's probably been asked why she still wears it by plenty of people, Fundy and Jared included. And I'm sure she always takes extra care to remove it whenever Wilbur's around.

Now I'm pretty confident in saying Wilbur doesn't have anything more than a simple wedding band that he was very relieved to stop wearing. He's not quite sure where it is, and frankly, he's not trying to find it. He never really felt all that great wearing it. It felt more like an obligation than something he wore proudly. Quackity's probably seen it before, but he knows enough not to ask Wilbur about.

Wilbur honestly got some shit with rings and jewelry altogether. I feel like when he tried buying Sally's ring, the person working at the store seemed so judgmental and obnoxious that he shudders every time he sees a jewelry store. He also doesn't like that love is measured by how much of a diamond a man can afford. And he doesn't like walking around with expensive jewelry either.

That being said, I feel like Wilbur would be more than willing to face his fears if Quackity ever showed interest in anything from one of those stores. One of the main ways Wilbur communicates his love and affection, as well as how he tries to fix his guilt, is through gift giving. Wilbur doesn't really like himself, and he often assumes others don't like him either, so he attempts to make up for what he believes he lacks by spending whatever he can on them. And I'm sure that ties into his whole thing with being a foster kid and knowing how a single good gift can change how you perceive someone.

I feel like Quackity is pretty anti-ring after Karl broke off the engagement. He assumed it got lost in the car accident because Karl had probably taken it off, but he eventually finds it on his nightstand. It kinda puts the whole situation into a shitty place. Slime's probably asked Quackity about it a billion times, and Quackity eventually gets tired of it and puts it where Slime won't find it.

Wilbur's probably seen the ring before, and it made him feel incredibly shitty because something tells me the ring is rather flashy in comparison to anything Wilbur's even given or received. Wilbur kinda hates it because it's just another shitty reminder of how much Quackity must've loved Karl, and he'll never live up to it. It is also a representation of how much Karl was worth to Quackity, and Wilbur doesn't believe he has nearly enough to be deserving of something so extreme.

This whole thing is stupidly long and a mess, and I really need to go work on my own shit. But it's the best I could do

Also last ask you asked me why I have rusty scissors in my shower. And like. It's not like they were rusty in the beginning. I use them when I need to cut something. Sometimes you just need to switch things up, and rusty scissors are good at that. Ever stab a bottle of conditioner [Question mark] Ever cut a random piece of hair off[Question mark] That shit's refreshing. Also excuse the lack of question marks. I'll figure it out later. Turns out the question mark key is open. Shit's wild

-Quackity Analysis Anon

Ooooh, excellent question. I'm gonna run down this one at a time.

Wilbur: First, Wilbur had a chastity ring. He got it from his super conservative foster home and lost it as quickly as he could when Phil adopted him, but the memory of wearing it and what it stood for stuck with him for a long time. He and Sally did have wedding rings and a proper ceremony (before the Fundy was born), but everyone knew it was a shotgun wedding. Sally was very obviously pregnant at the time.

Sally: Sally did actually have an engagement ring, but Wilbur's experience of buying it was worse than you might think. As soon as her parents found out about the pregnancy, Sally's dad had a long talk with Wilbur about "doing the right thing" and then took him out to buy Sally an engagement, which he then paid for. It was humiliating for Wilbur, who gets a nauseating wave of anxiety whenever he goes inside a fancy jewelry store now. Unlike Wilbur, Sally still has her wedding ring, stored away in her jewelry box never to be worn, but never to be thrown away.

Quackity: He and Karl exchanged promise rings a few years ago, and for a long time after the cheap ring started oxidizing, Quackity wore it as a necklace. Once they got properly engaged, the promise ring necklace was moved to safe storage.

Karl: The doctors had to remove his engagement ring when he was hospitalized, and somewhere between hospital moves, it got lost. Karl was confused to wake up without it, and now it hurts to look at his left hand. He lost the promise ring a few years ago too while washing dishes, so now he has nothing.

The stuff you said abt Wilbur and Quackity's feelings toward rings is just so spot on actually, these men have Issues

[weministertomonsters]

Seafood pt3 - faults and forces

(Fifty-six years later)

"I hate this fucking thing in my ear," Ayde growls, twisting the communicator against his ear as he tries to find a comfortable angle for it.

"Better than going in deaf," I reply, double-checking my ammo.

"Think those things can climb?" Jung Han asks, staring at the tops of the shipping containers surrounding us.

"Nah, they don't have enough grip on smooth surfaces," Ayde says. "But rest assured, if we do end up in a bad spot, we'll offer you up first, since you're the meatiest."

"Well, at least I don't look like I'm about to keel over like Chloe," Jung Han says defensively.

"I told you she can't help it! It's a condition. Unlike you," Ayde retorts.

"Can you two stop?" I sigh. "And don't bring me into it. I just want to get this job done quickly."

"Is it a DOA job?" Ayde asks.

"So you weren't listening during breakfast," Jung Han says triumphantly. "Too busy daydreaming about the girl you were railing last night?"

"Speak for yourself, your head was so far down in your bowl that the cereal was probably talking to you," Ayde snorts.

"I'm gonna shoot you both," I finally announce.

"Chill, sugartits," Ayde says, rolling his eyes.

"Simp," Han snorts and Ayde draws his fist back.

"I'm gonna knead you like pizza dough, you privileged motherfucker," he snarls.

"Try it," Han says and then thinks better of it. "Dude, I was joking anyway."

"Attention, rookies!" General Sotto's voice booming into our communicators is a welcome distraction despite how loud his voice is. "As you hopefully recall, this is a DOA job, we want this specimen brought in dead or alive. Bonus points if it's alive, of course, but don't spare the extra bullets should it cause you trouble. You know where to shoot."

"Yessir," Ayde says. "Permission to move in?"

"Good luck," General Sotto replies before we were met with silence.

"Ugh," Ayde says as he looks at the abandoned warehouse, summing up our reluctance to go in there.

Just a day ago, it had been flooded more than knee-high with water. A scrub team came in a couple of hours ago and netted and fenced the entire area before pumping it. Now there's nothing left but algae-covered trash and somewhere in the warehouse, a swampfish that we've been sent to bring in.

After a boom in their species and their subsequent discovery, the Cleaning Department had been created for the Swamp Sector alone so that the land could be declared safe and reclaimed for habitation.  My grandmother calls the department "glorified fishermen". She was disappointed when I decided to join the Cleaning Department as a hunter.

"Why do we always get the shit jobs?" Ayde grumbles as we let ourselves in through the netting and approach the warehouse, doing our best to stay quiet.

Algae squelches under my foot and I fight the urge to pause and scrape it off.

"All rookies go through this, "Jung Han reminds him.

"Well, General Sotto got that gnarly injury from his time as a rookie," Ayde muses. "Rookie position is the time where it's easy to slip up and get yourself killed."

"Hey, you know the thing about getting caught by those creatures?"Jung Han asks slyly, and I roll my eyes, already knowing where he's going with this.

"If you're lucky, the swampfish will decide to use you as an incubator for its eggs. Especially during the breeding season."

"Which is all the fucking time," Ayde reminds him cheerfully as we step into the dim warehouse, keeping our rifles ready. "Better clench your butthole, princess."

"Idiot," Jung Han hisses.

"Hey Chloe," Ayde says. "You know swampfish are more likely to go for the women first, right?   Can't blame them though, who wouldn't want to stick their dick in a wet warm pussy."

"You're both gross," I say flatly. "We'd better spread out a little and see if we can spot the swampfish before it sees us."

"Fine. I'll go east," Ayde says.

Han sidles north, so I take the west, stepping over slimy crates and broken bits of wood. There's the clink of a can and Ayde curses softly through the communicators.

"Well, it looks clear on my end," he says.

I reach the corner and turn, peering into the semi-darkness. There are no signs of a white or grey scaly body, nor is there any telltale slime.

"No sign here either," I reply. "Jung Han?"

"Oh shit!" He exclaims, and at the far end of the warehouse, there's a massive crash and agitated screeching.

"Oh shit, I found it!" Jung Han sputters, and I can hear him running. "I can't get a clear shot!" He yelled. "Guys!"

"Hold on," Ayde says.

"Try and stall, buy us some time to get to you," I instruct.

"And calm the fuck down, you sound like a cat in labor," Ayde adds.

"It's not funny. This thing is straight out of a nightmare. I've never seen one so close up! Fuck,  and what are those?!"

I jog around a stack of rotting wood and spot Jung Han but I can't see the creature from where I am.

"Ayde, where are you?" I murmur and peer around. "I'm not in a good position."

"Northeast, above you," Ayde says.

I look up. I have no clue how he made it up onto the walkway so quickly and silently, but he's kneeling there, with an excellent shot.

"Take it down," I murmur, keeping my gun ready just in case we need backup. "Two shots to the head should be enough. Don't waste bullets."

"Give it a second," Ayde says.

"What the fuck, Ayde," Jung Han says furiously. "You're playing around like this? If I raise my gun it's going to get me. I'm far too close."

"Stop messing around, Ayde," I sigh.

"You shoot it. You have a clear angle from where you are. Why are you choking?" Ayde replies.

"Am not!" I snap.

"Guys," Jung Han groans, standing tensely as he faces off with the swampfish.

The swampfish coils its tail, just about ready to leap at him. I can't guarantee that Ayde will shoot, so I raise my gun and squeeze the trigger twice. Two red holes appear in its skull, and it keels over with a gurgle. Ayde scrambles down from the walkway and I trudge over. Horrifyingly, it isn't dead yet and it's trying to crawl away from us on its back like a snake whose head has been chopped off but the body still squirms. Mush from its brain smears on the floor. Swampfish don't generate slime from their upper halves, so they have to rub it on themselves to keep their skin from drying out on land. This one is freshly coated, as slippery as a bar of soap.

"Sick," Ayde says. "Are those tits?"

We stand there and look at it. With its pale, vulnerable belly upturned we can see the smooth, glossy muscles rippling under its skin. Three pink teats run from its chest to just a few inches above the hipbones, softly swollen.

"It's nursing," I say as the realization dawns on me. "We have to look for the litter."

Before I can spur us into looking for it, the swampfish, confused and bleeding out, leads us right over to the nest it has made under some sheets of rotting wood leaning against the wall. The nest is made of rotting leaves and moist bits of algae and some old t-shirts. Three pups squirm in there, their tiny tails winding together.

"Sickkk," Ayde says even more enthusiastically. "This means bonus points for sure."

He tromps past the dying swampfish, kicking it as it tries to grab his ankle.

"Fucking fish," he says.

The swampfish moans and then sinks face-down on the floor with a sigh, finally dead. I swallow hard. Ayde laughs and I tear my gaze away.

He's holding one of the pups upside down, staring at its wet, floundering hands which are still mostly webs and nubby fingers at this point.

"It's like a snake and a fish and a human merged into one," he says. "They're disgusting."

"We bring those alive," I mutter. "Swampfish pups are worth a fortune in the cage industry."

"You know..." Ayde licks his lips. "We don't have to tell anyone about this."

"Are you suggesting we sell them ourselves for a quick buck down in The Cages?" Han asked. "Man, I like your brain sometimes."

"Well-" I hesitate and they both turn to look at me.

"Come on, Chloe. Be a sport," Ayde says. "You'll get a cut of the money and they're gonna be sold anyway."

I look at the squirming thing he's holding and bite my lip. I know I could use the money. Hell, we all could.

"Fine," I mumble.

"Cool. Now, is there a sack or something we can carry these things in? This one is already trying to bite me," Ayde says. "We'll strap up the big one afterward and call it in."

I feel a strong sense of shame as we cram our looted pups into the first dirty sack we find, but there's nothing I can do about it. This is how the world is now.

◀ previous part

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As always, you can read two chapters ahead on my Patreon!

[phantasy-castle]

January 5th, 2023

Today was weird.

I drank more than I should have last night. My alarm clock goes off. I do my usual thing where I set it for an extra 20 minutes and wake up at 6:10. I wake up. I do not want to get up. At all.

I'll give myself an extra ten minutes, right? Suddenly, it's 6:50. Yeah, boss, I'm not making it to work today because my... uh... car broke down? Yeah, my car broke down.

I go back to bed and wake up a little later; my dad is mad and asks me sarcastically if I'm looking for a new job.

I decided I needed to get out the house so I went to PDQ and then Target.

I saw a few too many Instagram posts this morning that were a little too relatable, especially in regard to my job situation. And then one of the cooks at PDQ was a young girl wearing a UCF shirt. The symbolism was laid a little too thick.

Didn't do much after besides thinking of working out, but not actually doing it. My mom was more than happy to shit on my life choices too.

Y'know, I just don't give a fuck anymore. I fucking hate my job. I fucking hate sitting in a dusty ass closet all day looking at my phone. At the same time, I can't find myself to do anything else because *everything* seems like a waste of time. I'm tired to these moronic teachers; they're glorified babysitters who snap their fingers and act like they're MY boss. No, cunt. These dumbshits can't even figure out to push a couple buttons, or just reset their computer if something isn't working, or even remember their fucking passwords. No fucking common sense.

I get paid $11/hr basically. Having weekends off isn't even fucking worth it. I look at the internet at work; I look it at home. And I can't find a "hobby" or a "passion" to fix that, BECAUSE EVERYTHING FEELS LIKE NOT JUST A WASTE OF TIME, BUT A WASTE OF EFFORT TOO.

So yeah, I'm quitting soon. I'm taking back my old job and I want to try become a postal inspector, if not just a regular carrier, because fuck being underpaid and fuck quirky office culture. I'm moving right the fuck out too. Yeah, sorry I won't be able to volunteer on Saturdays; I'm trying to get my life together because you (my parents, really) constantly suggest that I'm a mess.

I constantly told myself when I was a teenager that I just want financial indepedence; I actually had it for a while working at the shitty-ass PO, but then I threw it away for a job that's fucking more terrible somehow. Well, I mean, it's a job I hear not many complain about; a lot of people relish the idea of not doing shit all day and bullshitting with their coworkers about, fuck, I don't know, how the office is too warm or that Ms. Smith is pregnant. Fuck no, not for me.

I'll get a new job; I'll get out of this house; I'll get a girlfriend; I'll figure out the rest later. Thanks, and goodbye.

I'm not writing off the idea of flight school but I'm probably going to save money for now and at least work a year again.

And no, honestly, I don't feel fucking guilty about calling out for the seventh time. Pretty sure my leave hours were taken away for some reason. I don't care about these smooth-brained monkeys and their collective inability to Google something or call the fucking district's dedicated technical service desk; I just turned off my notifications today because I really, really, really, really, really do not give a single, minute fuck or half of one.

I'm out. I don't care. It's a shame this job turned out shit for all the wrong reasons, for all the reasons I could've not predicted six months ago. It's a shame I feel like it's ruined my life too.

--

I bought Rocky and Buddy two bones today but had to take them away; Buddy does not understand the concept of personal property and he's loud as fuck.

[you-can-call-me-fangs]

Maybe some nsfw hc with angel or aki form chainsaw man? I haven’t seen you write anything for them so idk if you do write for aki and angel. Top Male reader pls.

-🧀anon

Sorry this took so long to get around to besides me just being lazy as shit it also takes me like three days to make a post after I'm done doing drafts, re-reading, finalising, etc. but whatevs enough excuses! I hope you still enjoy! 💙💙

Angel and Aki NSFW Headcannons

Contains: manhandling/borderline dub-con, belly bulging, mention of mirror sex, exhibitionism/chance of getting caught, Aki being touch starved?

° I wish I could have more nsfw headcannons for these pretty boys but I can't help but see them as vanilla as fuck, but they've still got some things that they like to do and that turn them on

° Angel likes it if his partner is bigger than him (which luckily for him is most people)

° This leads to Angel really being into being manhandled, like full on pick him up and throw him on the bed

° Angel is really into you forcing him to do things in whichever way you see fit, whether it be forcing his head up and down on your cock grabbing onto his hair while you do so, or using him as a glorified fleshlight by just holding onto his waist and forcing his body to move in any way you want on your dick

° Pretty much anything else you could think of that forces Angel to pleasure you in some way where you have all the control and there's nothing he can do about it he's probably down for it

° Angel especially loves positions where you have to pick him up and hold him in place, lifting his legs up wrapping them around your waist and fucking him like that? mmm✨delicious✨

° You can definitely expect some belly bulging with this one (maaaybe Angel wouldn't mind if you spread him out in front of a mirror so he could see the bulge you were making in his stomach too...just a thought 👀)

° Angel likes to be tied up

° I don't know why, I guess I just like the thought of Angel being tied up, whenever I think of him in shibari he's just so cute~

° Angel doesn't mind loves getting called pretty boy AND pretty girl

° I like to think that Angel, as a devil, doesn't care too much about gender or presenting as one particular gender so using either or works for him, so please don't hesitate to call him a good girl as you fuck him against the wall

° In between Angel's moans you can hear him cursing in a foreign language, probably latin

° I know I said Angel is pretty vanilla but just because of his nature as a demon I could imagine he's seen and/or is into some pretty freaky stuff that he'll want to divulge in with you in from time to time, but he doesn't want it to become a staple, Angel believes that sex should be quick and easy why complicate it with all the extra kinky stuff?

° Speaking of quick and easy I believe with my whole chest that Aki is into quickies

° Honestly just the thought of you pulling him into some unused office at work bending him over the table and taking him right there and then turns him on enough, imagine if you actually did it? He'd be over the moon

° Aki won't tell you this but he does get off on almost getting caught or being right out of sight or ear shot of someone seeing or hearing you both

° Aki's moans are pretty damn loud and noticeable he tries to hold them back but he's terrible at it, if you two did decide to do it in public somewhere it would be very ovbious what you were doing even if it was behind closed doors

° Two words (well maybe three): Househusband Aki. Need I say more

° Aki really enjoys foreplay, he likes having and knowing that all your attention is on him even if that sounds a little selfish to him

° Having your hands all over his body as you prep him, fingering him, playing with his nipples, kissing him, it doesn't matter

° Pretty much any sort of touch between the two of you is nice for Aki it's reassuring and comforting to him, he's a bit of a softie in the bedroom because of this, he doesn't like to be all rough and forced like Angel

° Aftercare with Aki is spectacular, you already know he's super sweet about it

° He gets both of you all cleaned up afterwards, taking a shower telling you how good you made him feel, rubbing, massaging, cuddling, you name it your doing it!

° Aki for sure enjoys cuddling the most though, being able to run his hands on your body

° Aki also most definitely expects you to do the same, he wants your hands on him as much as possible, running them up and down his sides, putting your fingers in his hair, etc.

° And this doesn't just apply to aftercare but during sex too, wrapping one of your arms around his waist while you thrust into him, letting Aki hold onto your biceps or even putting his arms around your neck, it doesn't matter as long as Aki gets to touch you

° Both of them aren't very good with dirty talk, Aki isn't good at hearing dirty talk and Angel isn't good at speaking dirty

° When Angel tries to dirty talk it usually comes in the form of him trying to decribe all the dirty stuff he wants you to do to him, but it normally comes out like a confused mess, he'll hesitate once with what to say next and then it goes off the rails from there

° Ironically in the spur of the moment when Angel is half out of his mind from overstimulation he might actually say something really sexy that turns you on, he doesn't even know he's doing it, it will just start to happen naturally, guess he needed your help :)

° Aki on the other hand just gets easily flustered so hearing dirty talk will make him turn bright red almoat instantly, it would be a really nice way to tease him

° Aki's way of blushing is also super adorable, it's one of those blushes that reaches all over there face and down their neck, you can even see him get red on other parts of his body like his shoulders, chest, knuckles, all in all Aki just lights up if you can find a way to fluster him (which shouldn't be too hard)

[minaminokyoko]

Fuck you, Love and Thunder: A Rant

Massive spoilers for Thor: Love and Thunder below.

I know this is going to fall in deaf ears, but I’m gonna fucking say it anyway—the decision to completely sideline, ignore, and downgrade Valkyrie in Love & Thunder was goddamn bullshit.

Look, I get it. Natalie Portman left the Thor franchise originally probably feeling underused and written as not much more than a cute damsel. I am fine if they decided that they wanted to bring her back and end Jane’s arc on what’s supposed to be a high note.

But that’s no excuse to demote Valkyrie into a fucking extra.

There was room for both of those characters to have had equal screentime and importance to the overall story. But they didn’t do that. They basically shoved Valkyrie into the Black Best Friend trope, like she hasn’t been there right by Thor’s side the entire time since he changed her mind and helped her value herself after years of being a bitter, angry drunkard on Sakaar. After all that they went through from Ragnarok to Endgame, Love and Thunder just decides that she doesn’t matter. She is given no meaningful scenes with Thor, or even on her own. She is literally cast in Jane’s shadow for the entire goddamn fucking film, like she isn’t even remotely important or relevant, and Jane is everything. The movie LITERALLY puts Jane Foster on a fucking pedestal to the point where she is Jesus—she “sacrifices” herself for our fucking sins and dies and the movie worships her for two straight hours while giving Valkyrie less than the bare minimum of screentime. She’s in the film so little and matters so little that I am enraged that they even decided to include Valkyrie in the movie at all.

And the final betrayal for me was gaslighting the audience by acting as if she had no sexual tension or romantic links to Thor.

I didn’t make that shit up. You didn’t either. None of us did. Thor and Valkyrie are the quintessential enemies to friends trope and had Natalie Portman not entered the picture, I am more than fucking certain they’d have gone from enemies to friends to lovers. There was a kiss filmed in Ragnarok that didn’t make the cut and then there was a deleted scene in Endgame where Thor wants to kiss Valkyrie, but she’s not emotionally ready yet and while she doesn’t go for it, she isn’t angry or upset with Thor for his feelings. She doesn’t reject him. She isn’t repulsed by him. She’s just not ready for that and it’s not portrayed in a light suggesting there isn’t a wealth of affection and trust between them. Prior to this film, Tessa Thompson, Chris Hemsworth, and Taika Waititi had said in interviews that there was sexual tension and attraction between the characters. Ragnarok itself has more than one teasing scene that there is an undercurrent of romance as they got to know one another. 

And it’d be one thing if the film decided to let Valkyrie have her own damn arc with another woman or if she were interested in both Thor and Jane, given that she’s bisexual, but she didn’t get ANYTHING. She is literally so sidelined there is an actual scene of her just watching the two main leads wax on about their love while she has nothing to do with it, like she’s a goddamn glorified extra.

And I am goddamn fucking tired of watching black female characters get this kind of fucking treatment.

Do you know how many times as a black fangirl I have had to watch black women be sidelined or written out of the story or killed in favor of a white counterpart? The Thor franchise should fucking know better. Valkyrie is and always has been a phenomenal character. Everything she’s gone through with Thor should mean something and this movie spits in the face of all the black women who, like me, felt seen and appreciated and loved with how she was written in Ragnarok. It feels exactly like we’re being told we’re inferior to white women and we always will be because white women are the golden standard. Thor can’t possibly be polyamorous and be interested in a beautiful, strong, complicated black woman as well as Jane! No, no, he can only have eyes for perfect little Jesus Jane! If you were shipping him with Valkyrie, you’re wrong! Worship the Mighty Jane and forget you ever cared about Valkyrie at all because she’s a fucking second fiddle to the real hero of the Thor franchise, Jane.

And here’s the thing—I don’t even dislike Jane. She’s okay. She’s not given a fully formed personality and quirks and things that make her anything other than just an average character. Yes, she’s exceptionally smart and motivated, but other than that, what is it that makes her so interesting that the writers decided to ditch any development or relevance for Valkyrie? What in the hell made them feel that they couldn’t develop both women equally? Hell, what was even wrong with a love triangle where they ALL had reciprocated feelings for one another? We’ve seen love triangles before and we live in a world where polyamorous relationships can be healthy and the throuples can thrive and make each other happy. What the fuck would’ve been wrong with that idea?

I can’t fathom after all the work Taika and the writers of Ragnarok put into Valkyrie that they thought it was okay to just fucking ignore her and gaslight the audience into thinking she isn’t on Thor’s radar and that she isn’t important to him after being in the trenches with him. I wanted to know how things were going with her as king. I wanted to know how the relationship and friendship with Thor progressed. I wanted to know more about her past. I wanted to know more about her future.

But Love and Thunder essentially told me to go fuck myself. Instead of all that representation and relevance, I should just know my place and worship at the altar of Jesus Jane.

So fuck you, Love and Thunder. From the bottom of my heart, kiss my black ass. I am tired of being treated this way as a black fangirl. Black women are magic. We are just as fucking worthy as anyone else and I am furious the franchise wrote such an incredible character and then did a 180 and bailed on everything about her in order to elevate Jane instead of devoting equal time to both women. As far as I’m concerned, this movie doesn’t exist. I’ve wiped it from my memory and don’t acknowledge it.

[ladyfly]

Time For A Change

You hated it. With every fiber of your being you hated it. It was like an affront to everything you loved about Sun and Moon. You had to wait though. A surprise is not a surprise if everyone knows.

Your chance arrived sooner than you thought. Months of planning and prepping were about to come to fruition. Sun and Moon had a major upgrade. Stars aligned! You got to know about it a month in advance!

Sun and Moon were upset when you told them you couldn't go with them today. You had said you had too much paperwork to do. They understood really they did. That didn't mean they had to like it. They felt you were overworked.

Calling the custom furniture store to have the bed, mattress, and other furnishings delivered was easy. So was calling the moving company. Once management learned you paid for everything they let the workers in with no fuss.

Cleaning the shit hole glorified storage closet was easy. You made the tunnel between rooms bigger. One room was painted to look like the painting starry night. Moon really liked that one.

The other was painted to look like Venice - Grand Canal by Leonid Afremov. A painting Sun liked. He said he wanted to visit someday. This will have to do for now.

As each set of workers arrived you helped out where you could. It was 6pm when the last of the workers left. It was up to you to arrange everything sans the rug and bed.

The first room you enter from the daycare is set up as a game room with a TV and consoles. The second room was the bedroom. You had to pay extra for them to set the bed up in the other room. Worth it though.

You were so tired when you were done. A short nap wouldn't hurt. You laid down on the bed to rest a little bit. Just a little bit. Too bad a little bit really meant two hours.

Sun and Moon returned to the daycare. You were not at the security desk. Curious. They couldn't hear anything either. You must be up in the tower. They called their wires down and took off to the tower.

They entered the first room and gasped. It was clean! There are two bookshelves filled with their things and space for more. A plush black rug sat on the floor. A blue couch on top.

The walls are painted like Sun's favorite painting. A TV hangs on the wall. A blueray player, consoles, and games sit beneath it in an entertainment center.

Sun was confused "What? Why? Who?"

Moon Laughed weakly "Do you really have to ask? Y/n."

Sun and Moon explored the room taking everything in. Clearly you had worked hard.

Moon spotted the tunnel first "Is... Is that larger?"

Sun nodded "Yeah... it is."

They comfortably crawled through the tunnel. The first thing that caught their attention was the clean floor. All the pillows, blankets, and stuffies were in neat little piles. The walls were painted like Moon's favorite painting.

Several bags of glow in the dark stars and planets are neatly arranged on a desk in a corner of the room. A comfortable chair sits at the desk. Three beanbag chairs dot the room. The arcade cabinet has a stool in front of it.

A strip of RBG lights light the room up in a soft red glow. A large bed big enough to fit them sat against the far wall. The bed sheets are black with a red plush Sherpa blanket. Soft and warm.

In the center of the bed is you. A single packing peanut stuck to your hair. Sun pulls it off with a soft laugh. Moon quietly crawls onto the bed behind you. He motioned for Sun to join him. They spend the night cuddling you close to them.

[frogtanii]

embarrassed ft. matsukawa issei

wc. 2.7k (???)

warnings. SMUT, not proofread lol, mutual pining (??), friends to lovers (???), cunnilingus lmao, no dom/sub dynamics, well actually dom&sub issei if you squint rlly hard hehe, kinda cute, embarrassed issei <3, also one (1) WAP reference

an. it’s 2:30 am and i have no idea why i wrote this and who for???? i got the idea from a 🦋😳🙈✨ audio and was immediately inspired idk, sorry if it’s bad i lichrally have no idea since i didn’t read it after it was done :p

( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

it wasn’t like matsukawa issei to be embarrassed.

he was handsome, intelligent, and funny, not to mention he never left women wanting after a night with him.

issei was the entire package and he knew it.

beyond superficiality though, he was happy with his life. he had a great group of friends, a nice apartment all to himself and a completely normal job.

yes, being a funeral home employee wasn’t the most glamorous career a person could have but he was happy. besides, it never deterred him from getting a warm body to sleep with which was a win in his book.

all in all? his life was great!

so why did he have to go and screw it all up?

issei blames makki and the dumb flyer for the reason his life went to shit. (maybe he’s being a little dramatic, but let him have his oikawa moment.)

he was minding his own business when his best friend (recently turned enemy) burst through his apartment door with a piece of paper in his hand and a fire in his eyes.

“dude, look at this!” issei rolled his eyes, putting down his casket catalogue and turning to meet takahiro’s gaze.

“why hello to you too. remind me why i gave you a key again?”

“because you love me and because i bring shit like this to you. look!” with another long and suspiciously tooru-like sigh, issei took the crumpled paper from makki and immediately stopped in his tracks.

“makki... what the fuck is this?”

written in large pink letters and a flowery, borderline illegible font was the name, coffee and cunnilingus. upon further inspection and careful reading, it revealed itself to be a little cafe opening up about 10 minutes from issei’s apartment complex who were looking to hire “young, attractive men who are proficient at eating pussy.”

issei could feel his eyes narrow and his mouth drop open in shock as he repeated his question. “the fuck is this?”

makki shook his head excitedly, tapping to another portion of the flyer that matsukawa had not yet read. “no, no dude, just look at how much they’re paying per hour.” issei begrudgingly obliged but the minute his eyes touched the (Massive™) number, he felt a little faint.

it was a lot of money. more than the funeral home was paying, that’s for sure. with that kind of money he could move out of this suddenly dingy seeming apartment and into a nice flat in the city were he’d always wanted to live. maybe he could buy himself a nice watch or even a high-end suit to replace the one from his highschool graduation (aka the only suit he owns). with that kind of money, he could erase his student debt 3 years ahead of schedule and get his mom into a nicer place.

it was these thoughts that clouded issei’s head as he found himself standing in front of a cute looking building, matching the address on the flyer. i’ll only be working part time, he thought as he pushed the door open to reveal an equally impressing interior with curtained booths and a wide variety of coffee on the menu. i’m only doing it for extra money, he thought as he shook the owner’s hand after he finished his successful interview. no one can ever know, he thought as he dressed himself in the uniform on his first day.

thus began issei’s super secret side hustle where he ate women out for cash.

sounds worse when you say it outright but it was just working. he was good at it, the women liked him, and he was making BANK. still, there were challenges. some women refused to bathe before coming and he would have to send them to the restroom to freshen up which absolutely ruined his chances for a good tip. some women would become heavily infatuated with him, believing that they were in some sort of forbidden romance. he learned to turn them down quick and easy to avoid conflict in the workplace which furthered his space as a boss favorite. but his hardest challenge by far was meeting you.

you were one of hanamaki’s friends, having met him at one of his brief stints in retail on his search for a job. he had gotten fired but you both stayed in touch after he left, becoming really close, really fast.

issei had met you first when takahiro had invited you to the biweekly seijoh third-years movie night. at first, he had been pissed as an “outsider” had never been invited before and he was worried you’d ruin the vibe, especially since it was the first time in months that oikawa would be able to join them. makki vouched for you through and through and the other boys were okay with it so you were in. the second he met you, all his fears of awkwardness and discomfort faded away.

you were great.

you were hilarious, pretty, and could keep up with makki’s harsh jokes, tooru’s diva attitude, iwa’s tendency to hit (hard), and issei’s original disdain. by the end of the night, he had completely forgotten why he didn’t want you there in the first place.

from then on, you were a staple in their little friend group. you were added to the groupchat where you balanced memes with spouts of deep wisdom and you were ever so reliable, always there if any of them needed it.

yeah, you were great. that’s where the problems started.

issei’s feelings for you quickly went from platonic to romantic, faster than you can say godzilla. he hadn’t even recognized that he was falling for you until it was way too late. normally, he wouldn’t have a problem confessing to you but because of his newly found ...occupation, he was too nervous. how would you take it that he was basically a glorified prostitute? ok, that wasn’t exactly what he did but still! you’d probably find him disgusting and horrible and leave the friend group forever. then he’d have to deal with oikawa’s senseless whining and makki’s subtle digs, blaming him for your departure. yeah, he wasn’t going to put himself through that so he decided to keep his mouth shut.

too bad he didn’t have any control over makki’s.

you and takahiro had been on a little friend-date at mcdonald’s after you’d had a long and frustrating shift. you just wanted to vent, expressing your general hate for your job and desperate need for stress relief.

that’s when makki opened his (big, stupid) mouth and suggested that you visit a little place called coffee and cunnilingus. you nearly choked on your fries at the title before quickly pressing him for details. thankfully, he had the decency not to expose that issei worked there but he had not done a good enough job convincing you not to go there. not that it would’ve mattered. your curiosity was peaked and your libido was high so why not try out the weird cafe where you let a complete stranger stick his tongue inside you?

it was settled. you were going to go and you were going to get eaten out and you were going to like it!

or at least that is what you repeated in your head as you walked to the address on your phone before taking a deep breath and walking inside.

“hello, welcome to coffee and cunnilingus, how might i pleasure you this afterno— yn?” issei’s eyes widened as they met your equally bewildered ones, the both of you staring at each other in shock.

“matsukawa-san, is everything alright?” a large hand rested on issei’s shoulder, startling him out of his thoughts and forcing him to break (horrified) eye contact with you and move it onto his boss who was now looking down on him menacingly.

“y-yes sir, everything is fine!” he squeaked out, hating the way his voice cracked on his first syllable. his boss looked at him suspiciously but thankfully didn’t press.

“well, since nothing is wrong, take this beautiful young woman to a booth where you will assist her!” the hand resting on issei’s shoulder slowly squeezed, making him wince in pain. the pain was only an afterthought though to the larger implication of his boss’ words. he’s going to assist you. assist as in pleasure. pleasure as in eat you out.

holy shit, you were going to pass out.

apparently, issei had the same thought process as you, his face whitening like a sheet. “m-me? but sir i-“

“do your job matsukawa-san!” his boss cut him off with a forced smile. all issei could do was nod and silently lead you off to a closed booth near the back or lose his job. you stayed close behind him but remained quiet, absolutely terrified of breaking the silence and ruining the bubble you had created.

you finally reached the booth in question. issei gently opened the curtain and motioned for you to get it, to which you obliged and he followed just behind.

the moment the curtain closed, you were enveloped in an awkward silence and tense atmosphere, neither of you speaking or looking at one another for fear of one of you running out. after what felt like hours, you opened your mouth to speak, not realizing issei had thought the same thing.

“so-“

“i-“

you finally made eye contact with him and burst into the laughter, the tension quickly broken. it took a full minute or two for the both of you to calm down, the absurdity of the entire situation finally catching up with you.

“you first,” issei said, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes while fixing you with an intense gaze swirled with an emotion you couldn’t quite place but it made butterflies bubble up in your stomach. you quickly turned your gaze to the comfortable seat beneath you, your fingers playing with the red stitching while you thought of what you had wanted to say.

“are you any good?” your hand flew up to cover your mouth as your cheeks filled with heat, the embarrassment of your words catching up to you. you hadn’t meant to say that but when you opened your mouth to apologize, you were stopped in your tracks by the lovely sound of issei’s full-bodied laughter filling the tiny booth.

you had heard it just moments earlier but without the sound of your own giggles drowning it out, you couldn’t help but think that he sounded beautiful. you basked in the sound as it slowly trailed off back into silence. now it was you doing the staring making issei look off with a red face and a heart threatening to pound out of his chest.

“y-yeah i’m pretty good. you want to try? me, i mean?” his words nearly leave you gasping, your brain working overtime to try and comprehend what he was saying to you.

“only if y-you want to? what do you want issei?” you whispered, suddenly unable to find your voice. you wanted this to be okay for him too; you didn’t want him to be uncomfortable even though you wanted him more than you could verbally express. despite the embarrassment and fear of rejection lingering under your skin, you stared at him, awaiting his answer. a tiny minuscule nod came from him and you internally shook your head. you needed to hear him.

“i need you to say it, issei.” your words, while quiet, were firm and issei felt himself hardening in his uniform slacks. he swallowed in his increasingly drying mouth before opening his mouth to respond.

“i want to eat your pussy. can i?”

shit.

your own voice was stolen by his words and all you could give him was a nod before he was on you.

issei didn’t waste any time falling to his knees, pulling your panties down, and hiking your skirt up to your stomach, revealing your glistening folds to his hungering eyes.

“fuck, you’re so wet,” is all the warning you get before he’s licking a long stripe up you from entrance to clit before he’s sucking the hard, sensitive nub into his mouth. your eyes immediately rolled back into your head, your hips instinctively bucking up into his mouth while a gasped moan of issei left your lips.

if he could bottle your moans and use them whenever he pleased, he would, the sound sending another pulse of arousal to his already hard cock. he was tempted to reach down and pull himself out of his trousers but he denied himself. this was about you; you and your wet ass pussy.

issei continued his ministrations on your clit, circling it with his tongue before pulling it into his mouth while his hand was ready to get busy. it crept up your thigh, sending shivers down your spine until it reached your sopping entrance, two of his fingers teasing the slit before delving in to the third knuckle.

the moan you let out is borderline animalistic as your body sends another wave of slick pulsing out over his hand. he groaned into your cunt at your tightness, his mind only imagining him deep within you while you squeeze him for all he’s got.

the amount of slick you produced made it easy for him to add a third finger, thrusting them in and out while also crooking them upwards in search for your special spot that would have you seeing stars. it took him a little prodding but he knew he found it when your back arched, your hand came down into his hair, and you whimpered out a string of curses.

“that’s it baby, cmon, you’re doing so well, wanna see you come apart for me,” he all but growled against your clit before delving back in with a higher intensity, his desperation for you to come winning out his desire to tease you and drag this out as long as possible.

with his incessant pressure on your g-spot and his lips suctioned around your clit, it wasn’t long before he got what he wanted.

“isseiisseiisseiissei, i’m coming, i’m coming-oh fuck!” you screamed as you clenched and gushed all over his fingers, your entire body caving in with the intensity of your orgasm. his fingers were practically forced from your spasming cunt but they quickly found a place rubbing your nub side to side as fast as possible. the overwhelming urge to pee came over you and you shook your head, trying to push his hand away.

“no, no, give it to me, i know you can,” issei groaned, his eyes locked on your dripping pussy. the pleasure he was giving came to a head at his words and you felt a clear liquid escape from your tired, overstimulated cunt, your mouth opening in a silent moan before collapsing back on the seat.

the sight proved to be too much for issei as he felt his body tense, his own orgasm washing over him as he emptied himself into his boxers. he fell back onto the ground, in shock of himself coming entirely untouched. he’d never done it before but of course it was you that would bring it out of him. a smile spread across his face at the thought, his head tilting back as he laughed, catching the attention of your worn body.

“what’re y’laughing at?” you slurred, cringing a little at how fucked out you sounded but issei didn’t seem to mind, his face glowing while covered in your slick and cum.

“nothing, nothing, but uh, i have a question.” you felt your heart leap to your chest, your mind already racing with the possibilities. he’s going to say this was a mistake, that we’re just better off as friends. oh god, what if he says i stunk? or the worst pussy he’s ever had? or what if—

“want to go and get a coffee?” he asked, the smile still plastered on his face but with an uncharacteristic hint of shyness. the butterflies were back in your stomach as you shyly nodded before allowing him to help clean you up and standing, not missing how he slipped your lacy underwear deep into one of his pockets.

issei’s hand found its way into yours as he said goodbye to his coworkers and boss before leading you out of the cafe, watching you tell an animated retelling of the bullshit that occurred at your job with a warm grin on his face and pink cheeks.

it might not be like matsukawa issei to be embarrassed but if it resulted in getting you by his side? he would do it again and again.

[calpalirwin]

Come Back

Summary: It was a standard routine mission gone wrong in all the worst ways possible, or so the world, and most of the Avengers, was led to believe. 

A/N: When my 5sos writing addiction crosses paths with my superhero addiction. Beta-read by @jessalyn-jpeg​ thank you!!!!

Word Count: 10.8k

And away, and away we go!

__

“Hostage situation,” Ashton said, slapping the folder down in the middle of the table. 

Y/N’s fingers grazed the manila folder emblazoned with a giant “MISSION” stamp in the middle of it. Fuckin’ subtle, she thought with an eye roll. 

“Am I boring you already?” Ashton all but snapped at the woman, his arms crossing over his chest.

She raised her gaze to meet his, holding it steadily. Aside from Calum and Michael, Y/N and Ashton were the closest in age, with Y/N having the advantage over the man, a fact she knew he despised even though she graciously allowed him to take the lead at every opportunity. Leading had never been her cup of tea, but it was definitely Ashton’s, the arrogant little bastard. “Not at all,” she said sweetly, flashing him a smile. “Captain,” Y/N added as an afterthought. 

Ashton pinched the bridge of his nose, shifting his stare over to Calum, seeing if he’d help tame the woman’s snark, so that Ashton could get on with the team meeting, preferably without a headache. Calum just gave his sister a small shove, which she gladly took as a way to knock into Michael on her other side, the blonde’s arm going to rest along the back of his girlfriend’s chair.

When Ashton cleared his throat, Y/N rolled her eyes again. “Oh, just get on with it, you prat. Hostage situation. And ready? 3, 2, 1, action!”

“Yes,” Ashton said, his tone taking on the edge that was aptly referred to Ashton’s leader voice. “We, that is SHIELD, infiltrated a Hydra base about a month back in an attempt to get a spy on the inside. Problem is, that SHIELD agent was working with Hydra, and led our men straight into a trap.”

“And women,” Y/N added.

“Yes, and our women agents as well, thank you, audience participation.”

“So our task is to do what exactly? Search and rescue?” Luke asked, leaning back in his seat.

“Pretty much, yes.”

“Great…” the blue eyes rolled.

“Yeah, it’s not exactly glamorous, but it’s well within our authorization to carry out ourselves.” Ashton puffed out his chest a little, like he was proud to be trusted with such a high class mission. 

“Blow up New York a few times saving the world and everyone’s a critic…” Y/N joked half-heartedly. “Face it, Ash, we’re an over glorified search and rescue team. Just tell us when we’re headed out.”

“Jet leaves in a half hour. Folder contains more details regarding our individual parts and a map of the compound.”

Luke’s face lit up at the potential that individual assignments might have a little bit more glory to them, eagerly snatching the folder and passing out the packets inside to each team member before tearing into his. “Aw! C’mon!” he groaned, tossing the papers back on the table. “We never get anything cool anymore…”

Y/N kept her quip about how Luke should speak for himself to herself, as she glanced at her own personal assignment. Fuckin’ hell…

“You alright, babe?” Michael asked, his fingers rubbing at her neck as he started to pull his arm back across her chair.

She crumpled her assignment in her fist. “Hmm? I’m fine,” she grinned, kissing his nose.

Michael blew out his air in a huff, “Yeah, I know the mission’s kinda bullshit action wise. But when we get back we can play with these new arrows I’ve been working on. These ones have tracking technology, so even if I was to miss, I wouldn’t.”

“Aw, but you never miss a shot.”

Michael smirked, “I know. But now you guys can use them too. Doesn’t hurt to pick up an extra skill.”

“Sounds like a date,” she said, this time pressing a kiss to his lips, savoring the moment. In a couple of months to a year, she added in her head, because what Michael didn’t know, and what she couldn’t tell him, was that these were going to be their last moments with each other for a while.

~~~

Exactly a half hour after Ashton had dismissed his team, the group of five sat strapped in the jet, the engines rumbling as it took off, headed for the Hydra base. “Everyone has their assignment?” Ashton asked, eyes darting across everyone.

“Yes, Dad,” they all mock-saluted.

The hazel eyes rolled, and his jaw ticked in annoyance. “If someone else wants to be leader, be my guest.”

“So then I could be the prat everyone hates?” Luke scoffed. “No, thanks.”

“Aw, Luke. We’d hate you regardless if you're the leader or not,” Michael joked, clapping the other man on the shoulder.

“Hehehe,” Luke laughed in a high-pitched, mocking manner.

“Nobody has a problem with you being leader, Ash. You know this,” Y/N said. “Plus we all know that you’re just the one relaying orders from the higher ups. You’re just better at it than the rest of us. I mouth off too much, and these three are babies. Face it, you’re the perfect soldier.”

Ashton’s expression softened a bit at her words, the closest thing to a compliment she’s ever given him. “Thanks, Y/N. That means a lot.”

“Oh, save it. It doesn’t make you less annoying.”

“Babies? Who are you calling babies?” Michael asked, poking a finger in his girlfriend’s shoulder.

“Yeah!” Calum huffed. “No babies here!”

Y/N laughed, reaching out to pinch Calum’s cheek. “You will always be a baby to me, baby brother.” Then she turned her attention to Michael, “And you? You’re just my babe,” she grinned, kissing his nose.

“And me?” Luke asked, perking up his seat.

“A literal infant,” she grinned wider while everyone else nodded, including Ashton.

The rest of the jet ride was spent doing last minute training (Ashton), reviewing personal assignments (Y/N), tinkering with new technology (Calum and Michael), or sleeping (Luke) until Ashton called everyone back for a quick meeting.

“We’re approaching our drop off point.”

“Drop off point or…?” Luke whistled before slamming his hand down on the table. “Jumping point?”

Ashton held up 2 fingers, and Luke grinned, pumping his fist in small victory. “We can’t risk the jet getting anywhere near their radar, so we’re landing roughly here,” Ashton continued, pointing at the map. “Hydra base is here,” he moved his finger to where there was a giant red circle. “And safe to assume it’s heavily guarded on the outside.”

Y/N studied the distance between where Ashton said the landing spot was versus where the base was. “So we’re landing about a mile out, and we’re just gonna knock on the front door, hoping they let us in?”

Ashton snorted. “God no. Well, kinda. Luke’s breaking in to shut down their security protocols. From there, Cal should be able to hack and override their system. Mike keeps our path clear from the outside. Making our job,” he waved a finger between Y/N and himself, and Y/N gulped wondering how much he knew about everyone’s personal assignments, “easier for helping Luke get the hostages out.”

She breathed in relief. Good. Ashton was under the usual impression of personal assignments from previous missions, and not the other, slightly more complicated bit to the otherwise usual mission. Luke, with his ability to shrink and grow with the push of a button, courtesy of Calum and Michael’s technology, was the thief. The one with the power to get small enough to squeeze in anywhere unnoticed. Which set him up perfectly to gain security access for Calum, who could then override any system remotely, alongside piloting his drone for extra security coverage/fighting power. Michael usually hung back with Calum to keep Calum company, while being both an extra set of eyes, and an extra fighter with his hundred percent success rate as an archer. Which left super soldier Ashton, and non-super soldier, but highly trained martial artist Y/N to provide the bulk of fending off enemies. A ragtag team of not exactly super, but definitely better than your average SHIELD agent, SHIELD had dubbed the Avengers. “Sounds like we should get ready to jump then.”

While jumping was Luke’s favorite part of the mission, the rest of the team paled a little standing in the doorway of the jet, air rushing all around. But when Ashton yelled “Go!” they all jumped, Luke first with a whoop of “Showtime!” Y/N sucked in a breath, following Luke out and grabbing Michael’s hand to pull him after her, the ground hurtling upwards at her. 

“Pull!” Ashton’s voice directed in everyone’s ears, and five parachutes deployed in unison, Y/N jerking wildly with the pullback.

“Whoa, easy there,” Michael’s voice was both in her earpiece and shouting above the wind, his hand squeezing hers. “You’re good, babe.”

“Ugh, I fuckin’ hate that part,” she groaned, her stomach churning.

“And I hate this part,” Calum groaned along with his sister, before all anyone heard was his feet hitting the ground and his string of curses as his body rolled with his landing.

“You gotta learn to land better,” Y/N and Ashton both scolded, as Y/N’s own feet touched down, and she ran a little with the momentum so she didn’t roll like her brother.

“You gotta learn to land better,” Calum mimicked as he picked himself up off the ground, shooting Luke a glare, “What are you so fuckin’ happy about?”

“That shit is the fuckin’ best!” Luke whooped in a whisper. “Fuck yeah! I’m pumped!”

“Good,” Ashton chuckled. “How do you feel about more flying?”

“Aw sick! Is Michael gonna shoot me?!”

“Not the way I’d like to,” Michael grinned sarcastically, reaching behind him for his bow and arrow. “Shrink down, giant man.”

While Luke shrunk down to the size of a tic-tac, Ashton started instructing Michael on where to shoot, but Michael brushed him off. “Yeah, yeah. Close enough to get him inside, but not anywhere that’ll draw attention. Cal, you got eyes yet?”

“Yeah, but I’m not gonna be able to get the drone in there until Luke gets in so I can hack the system.”

“That’s fine, I got it,” Luke said in the ear piece. “Cal, I’m on your right shoe. Lift up?”

Calum bent down to pluck up Luke, placing him carefully on Michael’s nocked arrow. “Just tell me where I’m aiming, Cal,” Michael said, breathing steadily as he pulled back his bow.

“Quarter inch to the right,” Calum directed. “If you aim low, Luke can run in from the ground, or if you aim high, there’s a branch that he can access the second floor from. Shooter’s choice.”

“Security’s on the second floor,” Luke and Michael both said, and with that, Michael inhaled, and on the exhale, sent Luke and the arrow flying towards Hydra, undetectable.

“And now we wait,” Ashton commented, stretching his arms up over his head. “Y/N, we-”

“Won’t have much time between Cal hacking the system and Hydra finding out. And Cal and Mike can only provide so much coverage while staying out of sight. So we’re on a time clock of maybe 5 minutes if we’re lucky. I know, Ash. I go left, you go right?”

He nodded. “Get ready to run.”

Y/N glanced at Calum. “How much time before Luke gets into the system for you?”

“Thirty seconds. Make it quick.”

She turned to Michael, tears brimming up in her eyes. “Aw, babe. It’ll be fine,” he chuckled lightly, kissing her.

“I know,” she answered in a shaky breath, resting her forehead against his, committing everything to memory from the sharpness of his green eyes, to the pink tint of his lips. To his calloused fingertips as they cupped her face, and the scratch of his beard under her own hand. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he chuckled again. “Now go kick some ass.”

“Luke’s in. 15 seconds,” Calum told Y/N and Ashton, so Y/N kissed Michael as deeply and fiercely as she could, clinging to every bit of those last 15 seconds. “2… I’m in. System’s down.” But Y/N wasn't ready to let go yet.

“Y/N!” Ashton growled harshly, dragging her by the back of her shirt and then shoving her forward. “Fuckin’ move!”

She swallowed her storm of feelings, shutting that part of herself off, and switched fully into Mission Mode, ignoring Calum's chuckle of “Damn, what kind of good luck kiss was that?” and Michael’s shy but proud, “I dunno, but I ain’t complaining.”

With the security breach came the storm of chaos that allowed Y/N and Ashton to enter the compound without raising any serious flags. With Ashton headed to the right flank, Y/N went left, and the first chance she had, she took it.

The Hydra soldier looked to be about her size, their attention not zeroing in on her until Y/N already grabbed them in a chokehold. “Sorry about this,” she whispered as she snapped their neck in a swift motion, then dragged them into a nearby supply closet. “Ash, Y/N, I located the hostages. Where are you?” Luke asked in the earpiece.

“Coming up on your right, Luke,” Ashton confirmed.

“Got in a small tangle, be there soon,” Y/N grunted as she started switching clothes with the body.

“God damn it, Hood…”

“Which one?” both her and Calum asked with an amused glint, their favorite little bit to annoy their captain.

“You know which one,” Ashton hissed. “Cal, time estimate. Mike, coverage report. Y/N, get a move on, seriously!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Y/N muttered before taking out her earpiece and stomping on it, leaving it with the dead Hydra soldier along with her tracker just outside the doorway of the supply closet. “Just not the way you think,” she then muttered quietly to herself before hurrying after the other Hydra soldiers, running for the back of the compound. “What the hell is going on?” she snapped at one of them, putting as much authority in her voice as she could.

“It’s the Avengers. Initiating protocol 78. Get in a vehicle and get out. 2 minutes until denotation.”

Denotation?! Son of a bitch… Ashton and Luke were still getting the hostages out. She had to warn them, but… SON OF A BITCH!

Y/N shook off the panic and kept moving, trusting that Ashton and Luke knew what they were doing, and that Calum and Michael could keep them safe and aware of the limited time before the whole base went up in a fiery explosion. Her priority wasn’t on the rescue mission anymore. It never had been. Hers was to carry out the original mission that had resulted in this mission in the first place. Get into Hydra. Learn what they had planned. Destroy them from the inside. But damn, it would be a lot easier if she didn’t have to hide it from the guys. Her guys. Her baby brother. Her boyfriend. I’m safe, she screamed in her head. I’m safe! Look after each other, please!

While she got herself onto a vehicle headed out, she caught a glimpse of Ashton and Luke herding people out through a side gate and into the neighboring woods.

“Hood, where the fuck are you?” Ashton hissed

“Which one?” only Calum responded, then, “Shit… Y/N?!”

“Cal, where is she?!” Ashton and Michael demanded at the same time.

“I- I don’t understand. Her tracker is still by the left side of the compound where she went in.” Calum started fiddling around with the drone, trying to find his sister with it. “Y/N? Y/N, do you copy?”

“Luke, take the hostages back to Cal and Mike,” Ashton instructed, his voice tight, but controlled under pressure. “Cal, where did you say she was last?”

“To your left. 50 yards. She should be right there, Ash, I don’t understand!” His voice was high with panic. 

“I don’t see her,” Ashton reported, and there was a loud bang as he smashed his fist against something. “I don’t fuckin’ see her!”

“Maybe she’s on her way back!” Michael said hopefully. “Maybe she was helping clear the way for you and Luke. You know she can’t turn down a fight.”

“Heh,” Ashton chuckled. “Yeah maybe. I mean, these trackers and earpieces only stay on so well when you’re kicking some serious ass, ya know?”

“Exactly,” Michael chuckled in relief. “It’s Y/N we’re talking about.”

“Well let’s hope that’s the case, and that Ash is the fuckin’ Flash because guys… this compound’s gonna blow,” Calum spoke up, his voice still holding a small wobble.

“How much time?” Ashton asked, already running for an exit.

“40 seconds give or take.”

“Alright, I’m ou- whoa, shit.”

“What?!” three voices demanded.

“It’s Y/N’s tracker and earpiece. Just lying here in the fuckin’ hallway… and guys… there’s a body…” Ashton gave a small grunt as he flipped the body over with his boot. “Oh, thank God!” he laughed. “It’s not her! Probably just a scuffle where some of her gear fell.”

“Okay, well 1.) thanks for the heart attack and 2.) if it’s not her, then get the fuck out!” Calum yelled.

“Okay, but if it’s not her body then she’s fuckin’ missing, so where is she?!” Michael asked.

“She’s not with me,” Luke told them. “I haven’t seen her this whole time.”

“I don’t have eyes on her either,” Ashton chimed in, running as fast and far as he could before the compound blew.

“Cal, anything?!” Michael asked, now growing frantic as he scanned around, hoping to find his girlfriend lounging against some tree behind him. Safe. Laughing at her boys for ever thinking she was in harm’s way.

“No…” Calum choked, tears starting to spill down his cheeks. “C’mon, c’mon…” he prayed. “C’mon, Y/N, don’t do this to me.”

“C’mon, Y/N, where the hell are you?”

In the distance, Y/N heard the boom of the explosion, the vehicle shaking with the sound. She hoped her boys were safe and okay.  And they were safe. But they were far from okay. Because what she couldn’t hear was Calum’s broken sob and Michael’s heartbreaking scream of her name.

~~~

The jet ride back to headquarters was heavy with tension. To keep his mind occupied, Ashton set to work getting statements from the hostages. Calum and Michael sat in their seats, every muscle tightened, faces blank and frozen, tear tracks running down their cheeks. Luke was the only one who looked remotely comfortable, lounging against the wall of the jet, legs stretched out, his index finger tapping an unrelenting rhythm against his jaw as he hummed to himself.

“Would you knock it off?!” Calum tried to yell at Luke, but his throat was rubbed raw, so it came out as a hoarse whisper.

“What? I’m thinking!” Luke defended.

“Thinking isn’t supposed to be loud.”

“What are you thinking, Luke?” Ashton asked, his own voice clear, but weary as he ran a hand over his face and then through his hair.

“Y/N’s not an idiot,” he started.

“Yeah, no fuckin’ shit,” Calum spat.

Ashton held up a hand. “Let him talk, Cal. Go on, Luke.”

Luke straightened up, drawing his legs up, and resting his arms across his knees. “She’s not an idiot,” he repeated, studying his fingernails to keep his mind on track. “She always knew what she was doing. So she would have known that the mission felt off.”

“What do you mean, the mission felt off?” Ashton asked.

“Oh, c’mon, Ash. You couldn’t feel it, too? We got in and out without running into anyone trying to stop us. They didn’t care that we were getting out the hostages. They were evacuating. They had whatever they needed and were going to blow the place up whether we were there or not.”

“Okay. And what does that have to do with Y/N?” Ashton continued to prompt.

“I’m saying she knew. So she went in search of any plans she could get her hands on. Anything that might have gotten left behind in the scramble to evacuate sooner than they had originally planned.”

“So you’re suggesting that instead of helping us like she was supposed to, Y/N went off to try and get us more information?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Hmm…” Ashton thought, mulling over Luke’s theory. “That does sound exactly like the type of shit Y/N would pull…”

“BULLSHIT!” Michael screamed suddenly, jumping to his feet. “THAT’S FUCKIN’ BULLSHIT!”

“How is it bullshit?!” Luke yelled back, rising to stand toe-to-toe with Michael.

“BECAUSE IF IT WAS TRUE THEN WHERE IS SHE, LUKE?! HUH?! DO YOU SEE HER IN HERE?! CUZ I DON’T!”

“Obviously she’s not with us,” Luke scoffed. “But she got out, that I’m sure of. She’s somewhere.”

“Oh…” Michael nodded, his sudden drop in tone frightening. “So, what you’re saying is that WE left her behind! Our teammate! His sister! My girlfriend! And we just LEFT her?!”

“It’s better than the alternative of believing that she’s DEAD!”

“Oh, cuz that’s SO MUCH BETTER! What your theory suggests, Luke, is that WE either failed our teammate by leaving her behind, or she’s dead. Regardless of which of those options is the truth, WE FAILED HER! Whatever happened to her is OUR FAULT!” His hands clenched into fists at his sides and he raised them, whether to hit Luke or the wall behind him, no one was sure. Then, a sob was wracking through Michael’s body, his fists dropping back to his sides as his body crumpled. “Oh, God,” he cried quietly, curling up on the ground, his body shaking with the force of his cries. “Y/N, I’m so sorry… It’s all our fault… Fuck, I’m so sorry…”

~~~

Five months later found Y/N in a place within Hydra where she had enough access to send word out to SHIELD about Hydra’s plans: the creation of the an undefeatable army made up of highly skilled super soldiers injected with a recently perfected and modified serum that made Ashton’s super soldier skills look like child’s play.

The same five months found 4/5ths of the former team, smarter than they were before, but at the cost of diminished spirits as Ashton laid the all too familiar manila folder in the middle of the table, with its pitch-black “MISSION” stamp in the center.

Michael’s fingers went out to graze the stamp, his eyes meeting Calum’s as they shared a weak smile, both of them missing the way Y/N used to call the folder stupid for stating so clearly what it was. 

“We’ve received intel about Hydra's latest plans. It’s not good,” Ashton said, pausing for a sarcastic comment about how if Hydra was involved then of course it wasn’t good that never came. “They’ve not only modified the super soldier serum, they’ve also perfected it. A hundred percent success rate. Hostages don’t stay hostages for very long.” Again, he paused, waiting for a witty quip, but was only given nods of understanding. He let out a small sigh. “With the intel, we also got information of where their supply of the serum is, and where they’re making it. As far as our source knows, it’s just the one lab. Our mission is slightly different than what we’re used to as it’s a three-parter. The first part is pretty standard. Get in and release the hostages they have before they can be turned. The second part is also getting more information about the lab and the serum. We have to make sure that this is the only lab before we can go about initiating Part Three, which is destroying any and all labs we learn about. But today, our focus is on Part One and Two. Part Three will be carried out at a later date once SHIELD has time to go over everything and assess the situation.”

“After I get in to override security for Cal, I can start looking around for lab plans,” Luke decided. “If you can handle the hostages, Ash.”

Ashton nodded. “Yeah, I can handle that. Mike, I might need you closer to the action though, rather than staying back with Cal, and providing your backup there. If you’re up for it, that is.”

“I can get closer, it’s fine,” Michael replied numbly.

“Perfect. And how are those new trackers you and Cal have been working on?”

“Ready. And injectable. Once injected, Cal has access to turning them on or off, so we’ll never have to think about trackers again. Like potentially losing one…”

“And some of them can be fitted onto your arrows, yes? So maybe we can stick a lab worker or two with them?” Ashton followed up, ignoring the bitter edge in Michael’s tone.

“Yes.”

“Alright. We leave in a half hour.”

~~~

Y/N was patrolling around the upper deck of the Hydra base when both an alarm sounded and her earpiece crackled to life. “Security breach. Fuckin’ Avengers…”

“Secure the hostages and the lab,” came a different order.

“On it,” Y/N answered with several other voices, but she stayed rooted in her spot, knowing her old team’s moves by heart. Luke was somewhere in the compound, no doubt hiding in his shrunken version. Michael would have taken a closer position now for Ashton’s sake to help keep the path clear for Ashton to escort the hostages to safety. And Calum would be flying the drone, being everywhere the rest of the team couldn’t be, informing them of every move.

The familiar buzz of a drone a few seconds later came as no surprise, and she turned to the sound, grinning.

“Y/N?!” the drone’s speaker yelled in shock.

“Hi, baby brother,” she said, waggling her fingers in a wave. Then, her lips turned down in a mock-pout. “Sorry about this,” she told him, grabbing the wings of the drone.

“Yeah, me too,” Calum’s voice said, as he pushed a button that shot out an arrow as Y/N brought the drone down over her knee, cracking the device in half. She let out a slow hiss as the arrow passed straight through her shoulder, and then embedded itself in the wall behind her.

“Tell Mike to up your archery practice,” she told the broken drone as she dropped the two pieces, then took off.

“Y/N?!” Ashton, Luke, and Michael were yelling in Calum’s ear. “You found her?! I told you she was alive! Where is she, Cal?!”

“Bitch broke my drone!” was all Calum could come up with as a reply.

“Calum!” Ashton’s voice was sharp, Michael’s desperate.

“Give me a second, she broke my drone!” Calum grumbled, his relief about his sister being okay mixing with the rage only siblings could have for one another when one of them broke something of the other’s. “Okay, okay. Yes! Fuck yes! Whoohoo! Mikey-boy the tracker arrows work!”

“Of course they work,” Michael scoffed proudly.

“Well, I sort of shot through her, so I wasn’t sure if the tracker got in her, or the wall.”

“You shot my girlfriend?!”

“She BROKE MY DRONE!”

“You can build a new one,” Ashton told him with a sigh.

“You shot my girlfriend!” Michael continued to screech.

“I had to get the tracker on her!” Calum protested.

“Well, fuckin’ track her then, and get her out of there!”

“Cal, send me and Luke her location,” Ashton ordered. “Whoever’s closest tries to get her. But Luke, we gotta head out before they surround us. This isn’t like last time. They’re standing their ground.”

“She was on the upper deck on your side, Ash. She’s headed your way now, Luke. Towards the lab,” Calum reported, his eyes on Y/N’s tracker.

“Fuck, I gotta get out of here with these guys. Luke, get Y/N,” Ashton said, guiding a small group of hostages to safety.

“I’m in the lab, I got h- Oh, fuck me!” Luke’s words of hope died down as he glanced out the window of the lab. “I gotta shrink back down if I’m gonna get out of here. They’re fuckin’ swarming the lab. Ash, that’s good news for you because it means your path is clear.” He grabbed as many folders as he could gather in his arms, before hitting a button to shrink back down, just as Hydra soldiers muscled their way into the lab, looking around for anything out of place. “ ‘Scuse me. Pardon me. Just gonna squeeze past…” Luke talked aloud as he sprinted across the tops of boots headed for the exit. “You know, maybe I should get some of those trackers next time. Got plenty of feet to stab them into right now.”

“Duly noted,” Michael said, loosing a volley of arrows, sinking as many trackers into Hydra agents as he could. “Did you get Y/N?”

“No…” Luke replied in disappointment. “Ash?”

“No, I had to get out with whoever I could. Luke, you out?”

“Headed back now. I snagged some plans, if that’s any consolation.”

“That’s awesome, Luke. Thanks,” Ashton said, but there was a lingering note of dejection that they couldn’t get Y/N too. “She’s alive, and Cal got a tracker in her, which is more than we could have hoped for anyway.”

“I know. But still. Sorry, Mike.”

Michael shook his head, straightening his bow and quiver on his back before following after Ashton and Luke back to Calum. “It’s fine. Ash is right. We’ll work with what we got.”

“We’ll get her back. Don’t worry,” Ashton said, his words mostly directed at Calum and Michael, but also as a vow on his and Luke’s part. They’d get their girl back if it was the last thing the team ever did.

~~~

Y/N sat with her mouth set in a tight line as the nurse patched up her wound. “You super soldiers are all the same. The blank expressions. Immune to normal pain,” the nurse commented as they worked.

“Not a super soldier,” Y/N replied numbly, feeling the thread pull her skin back together. “Just a regular psycho.”

“Mmm,” the nurse chuckled. “And this was ‘just some light training,’ yes?” They gestured at the wound.

“Sibling rivalry gone too far, actually,” Y/N corrected.

“Mmm, well in my experience, few things come between siblings. You will be fine.”

“I hope so,” she muttered under her breath, but Y/N wasn’t so sure. How did she justify leaving her brother, her boyfriend, and the rest of her team in the dark about a mission they were all part of? How did she explain that she had to let them think that she had succumbed to the worst of fates? That she had to let them deal with the heartache of thinking she was dead, only to find out she was working for the enemy? SHIELD assignment or not, that wasn’t the kind of news she could just waltz back home with and offer up a simple “Hey, sorry I’ve been gone.” Y/N and Calum had suffered a lot between petty sibling issues, like when he first learned she was sleeping with his best friend, to much bigger issues regarding missions as part of the Avengers team. But this? Playing double agent while having to leave him completely in the dark? There was no coming back from this. And Michael… Oh, the betrayal he must be feeling. And mix that with the guilt and blind rage? If he was functioning at all, she bet that it was an ugly sight. A shell of the man she loved. Any ounce of humanity turned off to not drown under the pain.

Still, a part of her hoped that Michael or, perhaps even Calum, would turn against orders to try and stage a useless rescue of her, now that they knew part of the truth. And while she knew it would be a meeting that ended poorly on all sides, she could at the very least slip them a note. So back in the safety of her room, she quickly penned a note, then tucked it into her uniform.

~~~ 

Similar to last time, the ride back to headquarters was tense. Ashton kept busy by collecting statements from the hostages they managed to rescue. Then, he joined Luke in pouring over the statements and the documents Luke got his hands on in the lab.

Calum kept his eyes glued to the device that held the locations of all the trackers, watching the way Y/N’s blinked steadily.

Michael sat off on his own in sullen silence, his mind racing, hands clenching and unclenching into fists in a repetitive manner. He wanted to order the jet to turn around. To go back and get Y/N if he had to carry her over his shoulder himself. He was angry at his team, and himself for leaving her behind for a second time. Angry that he couldn’t stop failing her at every turn. But in the anger was a twinge of hope and relief. She was alive. Which meant that they could get her back. Luke had been right along. She knew what she was doing. But he still selfishly wanted her safe next to him. He wanted her laugh ringing out as she annoyed Ashton. He wanted to be able to smell her shampoo mixing with her sweat when she rested her head against his shoulder, complaining about how she couldn’t wait to get back and take a long hot shower. He wanted to be able to cover her cheeks in a blush as he whispered dirty words in her ear about the things he’d do when he joined her in said shower.

“Could you stop?” Calum asked, snapping Michael out of his thoughts.

“Hmm?” Michael hummed.

“The banging. Wanna stop?” It was less of a question and more of a command.

Michael looked down at his fists, noting the redness form along the outer edge of his palms and pinky fingers. “Oh, sorry,” he mumbled, placing his hands in his lap, not even aware he’d been banging his hands against the floor.

“I want her back too, Mike. Just as much as you do.”

Enough to break protocol and go rogue? Michael wanted to ask, but all he ended up saying was “I know.”

When they got back to headquarters, Ashton and Luke continued their work of looking over every word on every scrap of paper. Calum wordlessly joined them, his attention still held captive by the location tracker with it’s slow, steady blinks. No one thought it to be out of the ordinary, when Michael opted to head straight to the armory. Just hand waving and mumbles of “Yeah, could you?”s.

So Michael lugged the bag of gear into the armory, setting to the task of putting things out, and taking stock. But instead of putting his own gear away as well, he prepped it, having no intention of sitting around waiting for orders to be handed down. Not now when he knew where Y/N was. Fuck the rules and regulations. He was done with letting her down, letting her wonder why her team still hadn’t come for her. “Don’t worry, babe. I’m coming. I promise,” he mumbled under his breath as he left the armory, dropping his bag in the doorway of his room, then going to find the rest of the team. “Hey, Cal?”

“Yeah?” the man asked, not lifting his head.

“You got a spare one of those?”

“One of these?” Calum questioned, holding up the device.

“Yeah. I, uh… Just wanna be able to see her, you know?” he half-lied, making his voice crack for extra sympathy points.

“Yeah, course,” Calum nodded, pushing his way to his feet. He walked a few feet to a docking station that held various other forms of tech. “Here,” Calum said, grabbing one and logging into it. He tapped a few buttons until the familiar map pulled up. “This is just hers, and this,” he swiped across the screen to pull up a menu. “You can click to see the location of any tracker. We’re 1-4,” he twirled a finger to signal he meant himself, Ashton, Luke, and Michael. “And Y/N is 5. And the others are various trackers we got in Hydra agents today, or just not in use yet.”

“Thanks, Cal,” Michael took the device in his hands, then titled his head slightly towards Ashton and Luke. “I think I’m just gonna shower, then call it a day.”

“We’ll holler if we find anything interesting. Feel better, Mike,” Ashton told him.

“Night,” Luke mumbled, even though it was barely noon.

“Night,” Michael repeated, heading back towards the rooms, swallowing the rise of guilt of lying to his team. But they’d understand that this was something he had to do. Or so he hoped.

In his own room, he turned on music, then pulled a knife from his bag. Taking a few quick rapid breaths, he cut into the skin of his arm, prying his tracker loose. Hissing through his teeth, he dropped the tracker on his bed before bandaging up his arm. “Fuck,” he shuddered. “Argh! Okay. Here we go.”

~~~

Not being able to risk taking out the jet, it took Michael until well after the sun went down before he came within sight of the Hydra base with its giant searchlights, both lighting up the place, and casting it in menacing shadows.

Michael ditched the motorcycle well before he needed to as a safety precaution, before creeping the rest of the way on foot. His breath came out in huffed little clouds as he headed straight for where Y/N was. If the tracker was as accurate as Michael wanted to believe, she was right where she was when she’d had her skirmish with Calum earlier. Upper level deck, left side.

It was only as Michael got closer, that he started to realize he had no plan for getting in. “Time for a distraction,” he whispered to himself, digging through his bag for a grenade. “Showtime, bitches.” He pulled the pin and sent the grenade flying. He crouched low, covering his ears, and waited.

There was a loud bang, and then a startled scrambling from inside the gate, as a couple guards rushed out to check what had happened. Michael snuck up behind one, covering their mouth with his hand and dragging them backwards. The guard kicked uselessly at the ground, thrashing about as they tried to get free from Michael’s hold until they finally went limp. Quickly, Michael took their earpiece, before swapping clothes with the unconscious guard he left slumped up against a tree.

“What was that?” a voice was barking in the earpiece.

“We don’t know sir. We don’t see anything,” a handful of voices answered.

“Well if you find anything, put a stop to it!” the voice barked again.

“Did you find anything?” a voice called out in the dark, a flashlight swinging in Michael’s direction.

“No,” he called back quickly, heart pounding in his ears as the flashlight stopped advancing. “All clear.”

“Stupid fuckin’ pranks…” the other voice grumbled, the flashlight retreating. “Headed back in,” the guard spoke into the earpiece. “All clear.”

“Copy that,” a different voice replied.

“Well?” the first voice demanded, the small beam of flashlight turning back to Michael. “Are you coming?!”

“Right! Yes!” Michael said, willing his feet to move, and controlling his breathing to not give away his excitement as he crossed into the Hydra base. He still had the problem of needing to get to Y/N and get them out without raising any alarms. Which started with first getting away from the group of three guards he walked in with without anyone stopping him. So, not thinking too much about it, Michael slowed his walk before stopping altogether. And when his guard counterparts paid no mind, he slipped his way between buildings, hiding in the shadows as he checked the tracker.

He walked purposefully towards the stairs that would lead him to the upper deck, hardening his gaze and sweeping it across the grounds, like he was just another guard doing nightly patrol duty. “I don’t know what Luke’s always bitching about. This shit’s easy and I’m full-sized,” Michael remarked under his breath as he climbed the stairs and rounded a corner.

At the end of the walkway stood a single guard, their hair obscured by the black cap on their head. But even then, it didn’t matter. He’d know her anywhere, in any disguise. It was the way she held herself, her chin slightly tilted towards the sky, her shoulders squared but relaxed, her right foot always slightly shifted more forward than her left foot. He opened his mouth to call out to her, but the words died on his tongue. Was he just supposed to say “Hi” like he hadn’t left her for dead for five months?

It turned out, he didn’t need to say anything, as he took a step in her direction, his boots echoing off the metal floor. She whirled around, her dark eyes zeroing in on him. At the very least he expected a grateful smile as her head tilted slightly to the side, and she blinked slowly, trying to determine if her mind was playing tricks on her. But instead, she just fixed him with a cold steely look that sent the wrong kind of shiver down his spine. He cursed himself as he faltered in his next step. He had never once entertained the idea that she could have been brainwashed in all this time. “Y/N,” he said slowly, holding up his hands. “C’mon. It’s me. Let me get you out of here.”

“You need to leave,” she spat.

“Not without you.”

“Michael, I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“Don’t make me do this…” she whispered, bowing her head ever so slightly.

“Do what? I’m here to take you home, babe. C’mon!”

She crouched, tilting her head so her eyes met his. “Final warning.”

Michael shifted a protective stance of his own, raising his fists. “So this is really how you wanna have this reunion, huh?”

“It’s the only way.”

Michael dodged as her fist came swinging at his jaw. “Fine. Have it your way, then,” he growled, throwing his own punch that landed on her body. When she huffed in annoyance and slight pain, an apology was ready to fly off his lips.

She used his pause to tackle him, the walkway rattling with the force of his body hitting the ground. “C’mon, I know you hit harder than that,” she taunted, connecting a rapid succession of blows against his upper torso.

He twisted underneath her, bringing up his arms to block her hits. “Just come with me!” he begged, as he threw his arms forward, sending her skiddering backwards off of him.

“I can’t!” she yelled, charging at him again.

He did his best to block her attacks, but some hits still found a place to land, small grunts leaving his mouth at each connection.

“Fight back!” she yelled again, aiming for his jaw.

“No!” He snatched her wrist, as her knuckles started to brush into the side of his face. “I’m not gonna fight you, Y/N! This is ridiculous! I’m not trying to hurt you! I’m trying to save you!” he tried to reason as he spun her body so her back was flush against his chest, holding her tightly to him. “Baby, it’s me,” he whispered in her ear. “It’s me. It’s Mike. C’mon, baby. Come back with me. Come back to me. Please.”

A growl ripped out her throat as she brought one of her feet down on one his with as much strength as she had. And when Michael doubled over in pain, hearing the crunch of bone, her other leg kicked backwards, nailing him squarely in the chest, knocking him backwards.

“Y/N?” a voice sounded in both of their earpieces. “What’s going on?”

Y/N’s chest heaved as she stared down at Michael, who stared back up at her, struggling to find his breath. “Nothing,” she told the voice, before turning her back on Michael.

“Y/N,” Michael croaked out uselessly, coughing. His mouth tasted of blood and every part of his body felt like it was on fire.

He had no recollection of how he got off the compound and back to his motorcycle. Just like he had no recollection of driving all night back to Avengers headquarters.

He was, however, somewhat aware of his teammates' gasps of surprise when he dragged himself into the foyer of the building, as his body slumped against the cool tile, and he finally blacked out.

~~~

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” Ashton thundered, his hand coming down hard on the table.

Michael stared blankly past Ashton, not bothering to give a response. Ashton didn’t care about the answer anyway, and it didn’t change anything. And now he understood what Y/N was doing, and she was trusting him to keep what he knew to himself.

Upon his arrival, Michael had slept for close to two days before finally waking in the infirmary, his body still badly battered, but his pain at a manageable level. He had trudged his way down to his room, rummaging through his things when the note fluttered down. With shaking fingers, he opened it, reading the hastily scrawled words, “It’s the mission. I’m safe. I love you,” in Y/N’s handwriting. He barely had enough time to shove the note in his pocket before Ashton was knocking on his open door, looking more pissed off than Michael had ever seen. Wordlessly, Ashton had jerked his thumb in the direction of the conference room, and wordlessly, Michael had shuffled after him, ready to accept whatever fate awaited him.

“Well?!” Ashton’s voice cracked like a whip as Michael did nothing but blink at him.

“What was I thinking?” Michael asked, his voice soft. “Oh, nothing really.”

“Yeah, no fuckin’ shit, Mike!”

“Oh, lay off!” Calum snapped, coming to Michael’s defense. “Mike did exactly what we all wanted to do, but were too scared to do. He tried to get her back. If you wanna fault him for that, Ash, then you’re a bigger jackass than we all thought.”

Ashton sighed, sinking into his chair. “I’m not faulting him, Cal. But what he did was reckless. It could have jeopardized all the work we’ve been doing. I get that it’s Y/N, but we still have a job to do. No one person is bigger than the mission, even if she is your sister. I’m sorry.”

“Fuck you,” Calum said with a sad shake of his head. “Fuck. You.”

“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again, Ash,” Michael said, his voice still soft. “Can I go?”

Ashton rubbed at his face in agitation, letting out a small scream. “Yeah,” he said, his voice muffled by his hands. “Yeah. Go. Whatever. I don’t care.”

“So you’re just giving up?!” Calum asked, his angry and broken expression sweeping across his team. “Just like that? We’re done?”

“Until we get our new orders, yes,” Ashton told him.

“That’s BULLSHIT!” Calum exploded. “You!” He turned, jabbing a finger at Michael. “You’re just gonna walk away?! You go rogue to rescue her on your own, without me, and now you’re throwing in the towel too?!”

“You heard Ashton,” Michael shrugged.

“Oh, you’re so full of shit! All of you! Fuck SHIELD and fuck you lot! It’s Y/N! She needs us! She trusted us! How many times are we going to keep failing her?!” Tears fell hot and fast down Calum’s face. “Please!” he begged, his voice cracking. “We have to do something besides sit on our asses! Mike, please! You can’t give up on her! C’mon! I thought you were on my side! Mike! It’s Y/N… please…”

“No, it’s not,” Michael said bitterly. “It’s not, Y/N. This,” he gestured about his beat up body, “is not her.”

“Fuck you!” Calum cried into his hands, and let out a muffled scream of heartbreak and rage. “I fuckin’ hate you!” He raised his gaze to shoot Michael his best death glare. “I hate you, do you hear me?! I fuckin’ hate you! You’re giving up, you fuckin’ coward! You’re supposed to love her, you fuckin’ bastard!”

Michael tried to bite his tongue as Calum continued to hurl abuse his way, but the last few words of the attack cut deep, and he couldn’t keep his composure any longer. “I gave up?! Me?! I’m the only one who wanted to go back for her five months ago!” Michael went off. “I’m the only one who went back for her a few days ago! Not Ash! Not Luke! Not you, her fuckin’ brother! ME! I went back! So fuckin’ listen, and listen good when I tell you that everything that makes her Y/N is gone! It’s useless, okay?! She’s Hydra’s now. The quicker you learn that, the better.”

“I FUCKIN’ HATE YOU!”

“ONLY BECAUSE YOU HATE YOURSELF MORE AND YOU KNOW IT! We all have to live with what we did. You have to live that you didn’t have the guts to go save her yourself. I’m not gonna carry that guilt for you, Cal. I’m not carrying any of your guilt, or Ash’s, or Luke’s. Because bottom line is I fuckin’ manned up when she needed us, while you three sat on your asses. So go ahead and hate me. Say I jeopardized the mission, or that I failed her. I don’t give a fuck. Because at least I fuckin’ tried, which is better than the three of you can say.”

Michael could hear Calum’s scream echoing off the walls as he hobbled back to his bedroom. He could also hear, or rather feel, the slam of Calum’s own bedroom door a few moments later.

Michael eased his way on his bed, the sheets freshly changed after he had left his blood splattered tracker on it. He knew a new one had been injected in him at some point over his state of unconsciousness, and he briefly wondered if it was the same one he’d ripped out. No sense in wasting technology when it wasn’t broken, after all. Laying back into the pillows, Michael dug out the note, and the device that still had Y/N’s location, seeking comfort in her looped handwriting, and the steady blinking of the device.

~~~

It took another week before orders came down, and Ashton summoned them all into the conference room. Michael’s fingers brushed against the empty chair between him and Calum as he took his seat. It took more willpower than he cared to admit not to slug Calum when the other man growled lightly under his breath. He doesn’t know any better, Michael had to remind himself. If he did, he wouldn’t be acting this way.

Ashton set the manila folder in the center, and when no one moved, he dove right in. “Between the files Luke was able to get, all the statements we have, the information we’ve gained from the trackers, and the intel SHIELD has from their agent inside Hydra, we have all the information needed to bring this to an end, once and for all. This is an all hands on deck situation. SHIELD is officially running the whole operation. They’re taking care of the hacking and gaining control of Hydra’s operating system. They already have a unit assigned to deal specifically with destroying the lab. Our job is pretty simple. We’re just soldiers.”

“Actual action?” Luke asked, leaning forward slightly.

“Actual action,” Ashton said, smiling a bit. “Something I‘m sure we’ve all been itching to do for quite some time.”

Luke pumped his fist, “Fuck yeah!”

“And Y/N?” Calum asked.

Ashton sighed. “Based on personal experience, we can assume she’ll be fighting for Hydra. So yes, it’s a good chance she’ll be around. Ideally one of us comes across her before the rest of SHIELD so we can subdue her, and get her out safely. But she’s not our priority, and yes, before you start, I tried to convince SHIELD into letting us specifically deal only with finding Y/N and getting her back. But all I got in response was bureaucratic bullshit about how we were being employed to do a job, and how we aren’t exactly in a position to ask for any favors.”

“So play good little soldier, but if we see our chance, take it?” Michael guessed.

“Yes, exactly. And Mike-”

“I’m not fighting, I know,” Michael cut him off. “Do I at least get to come and hang out wherever we set up base camp? Help with security, and the like?”

“Yes, of course. You’re not being punished, Mike. You’re not fighting because you don’t have medical clearance. But you’re still coming along. All hands on deck.”

Michael nodded. “Cool. That’s… Cool. Thank you.” He was fully expecting to be benched, and expected to stay behind. A lesson from SHIELD about how even the Avengers had to follow their orders. But getting sidelined only because he was still injured? Well, that… Fuck, he could handle that no problem.

“Be cooler if we can finally get my sister back…” Calum muttered.

“We’re gonna try, Cal,” Ashton said.

“You said that last time, and look what happened.”

“So… half hour til take off, yeah?” Luke asked.

“Not quite,” Ashton chuckled. “We leave tonight to meet up with SHIELD at the base camp they’re setting up just outside of Hydra’s radar. Then we go in just before dawn. I’ll give a 30 minutes heads up before we head out though.”

~~~

After the worst night of sleep he ever remembered getting, Michael got up just as the sun was beginning to brighten the sky from a dark purple blotch sprinkled with stars to holding soft shades of pink around the edges.

He stumbled his way to the cafeteria tent, finding the rest of his team at a table, each clinging to their coffee cup like a lifeline. “How’d you sleep?” Ashton asked, as Michael took a seat.

“Like absolute shit,” Michael answered honestly. “You’d think for how high tech SHIELD is, the bastards would have found a way to make camping missions less miserable.”

“Gotta cut expenses somewhere,” Ashton chuckled darkly, taking a sip of his coffee. “Fuckin’ bastards…”

“Fuckin’ bastards,” the other three repeated in agreement as a group of higher ups appeared in the entrance of the tent.

“First wave rolls out in 10 minutes,” the one in the middle barked. “Report to your positions, and standby.”

Everyone in the tent gave half-awake salutes, and the group of higher ups continued on their way. Then slowly, between stifled yawns, people started getting up from tables, dumping their half eaten breakfasts, and half drunk coffees, before going to their places.

Luke drummed his hands on the tabletop, a grin breaking across his otherwise tired face. “It’s showtime, boys!” he whooped before pushing himself to his feet. “Let’s fuckin’ go!” He rested a hand on Michael’s shoulder, dropping his voice into a low whisper, “We got ourselves a girl to bring home.”

In spite of everything, Michael couldn’t help but laugh at Luke’s infectious enthusiasm. “Stay safe, guys,” Michael told them as his three friends joined the rest of the crowd dashing off to their assignments. 

Only after the last man had cleared out, did Michael finally get up himself. He made himself a tray of breakfast, before going off in search of one of the security tents. “Anything I can help with?” Michael offered the first person who looked in his direction. “Michael Clifford. Avenger.”

The SHIELD agent looked Michael over, with the boot on his foot, face still sporting a small bruise, and scoffed. “Here,” he said, shoving a clipboard in Michael’s hand that wasn’t clutching  his tray of food. “This is a list of everyone involved in the operation. Those of us staying to do security are already accounted for. But the rest have been given strict instructions to check back in when they return. Whenever that is. You can be in charge of checking them in by the triage tent.”

“Gee, thanks,” Michael muttered, tucking the clipboard under his arm. “Triage is…?”

The agent pointed to a tent with a giant hospital cross decorating the top.

“Cool. Thanks.” Michael forced a tight-lipped smile before making his way over to a long table set up just inside the coverage of the hospital tent.

“Back already?” another SHIELD agent asked, pulling a clipboard close to them. “Name?”

“Oh, no, I’m helping you guys with check-in.”

“Oh. Have a seat, then.”

“Hey, is Y/N Hood on this list by any chance?” Michael asked as he took a seat.

“Nobody by the name of Hood has been checked in yet.”

“No, yeah, I know. I meant… is she on the list at all? Like are we expecting her to be one of the people checking in.”

“You’d have to check the list. I dunno, sir.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Of course. Thanks anyway.”

“No problem.”

~~~

The sky had transitioned into a soft blue, the sun peeking out from behind the trees, suggesting that at best it’d only been an hour, maybe two since Michael took up residence at the triage tent. But it felt like a lot longer, and if something didn’t happen soon, he was going to lose it.

From his spot, he could hear the engagement of combat and gunfire, so he knew the mission was well underway. But, God, waiting for everyone to get back was so fuckin’ boring! And it wasn’t that he wasn’t used to being the one hanging back, because he was. But this wasn’t hanging back to provide back up. This was just waiting. Painfully boring waiting. His breakfast lay next to him, discarded and half picked over.

He was about three seconds from excusing himself to the bathroom just so he’d have a reason to get up and walk around, when a laugh rang out. A laugh he’d know anywhere. “Y/N?!” he shouted, scrambling from his chair.

The laugh paused, turning into a soft gasp. “Mike?!”

“Y/N!” Michael shouted again, rushing as fast as he could in the direction of her voice. “Y/N!” he called out for the third time, happily as he saw her pushing her way through a small group of SHIELD agents returning to camp.

“Mike!” she shrieked, before running full speed towards him.

He got his arms open just in time for her to crash into him. “Ow, ow, ow,” he winced as he hugged her tight.

“Oh, my God!” she said, holding him out at arm’s lengths. “Are you okay? What happened to you? Where’s the rest of the team?” the questions fell rapidly from her lips. “Oh, Mike!”

“I’m okay. Somebody beat me up pretty good, but I’m fine. The guys are off helping SHIELD play soldier. Oh, God, you’re back! And you’re you!”

“Did you get my note?” she asked, nuzzling her face into his neck.

“Yeah, I got your note.”

“So you forgive me?” Her brown eyes were wide and soft, and maybe even a little fearful as she peered up at him.

“Of course, I forgive you. You didn’t have to go so hard as to break my foot, but of course I forgive you, baby. Fuck, I’m just glad you’re finally here. For good. Safe.”

They could have stood there forever in their locked embrace. And they would have if someone wasn’t clearing their throat to get the couple’s attention. “Ma’am, we gotta check you in.”

“It’s fine,” Michael waved them off. “I got her checked in. It’s fine.”

The agent shrugged, and walked off.

“C’mon, let’s sit. We can catch up while we wait for the rest of the guys,” she directed softly.

~~~

“So Luke was the only one who believed I knew what I was doing?” she chuckled as Michael relayed the past five months of utter shit to her. “Remind me to thank him when he gets in.”

“Yeah, I probably owe him a proper apology for that still. Should probably apologize to Ash and Cal, too. A lot of things got said in anger that shouldn’t have.”

“At least you didn’t tell your best friend that you hated him,” Y/N pointed out, trying to calm Michael out of his remorse.

“Yeah, but still. We all sat around twiddling our thumbs until this last mission. I mean, we didn’t know what to do. We didn’t know where you were, or if you were okay. And when Cal told us you were okay like Luke had guessed, I dunno… I snapped. I thought I could rectify my mistakes by coming to get you myself. I never once thought that you were with Hydra on purpose. I hadn’t even thought you could have been potentially brainwashed by them. I just… I dunno. Went blind with rage and every other emotion I’d been swallowing since that first mission.”

She nodded understandingly. Then, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Anything.”

“How did you find me? When you came back on your own.”

Michael pulled the tracking device from his pocket, which he kept permanently in his pocket along with her note. “After the first mission, we upgraded our trackers. Well, we just used the technology we came up with for my tracker arrows, and injected them into ourselves. So that way it’s a little harder to dump,” he explained with a slight tease in his voice that made her giggle. “And we loaded some arrows with them too, obviously. I nicked a few Hydra agents with them. And Cal got you with the drone.”

“But when Cal shot me, the arrow went clean through me. He was too close. Entry and exit wound.”

“The trackers are set to eject at the first point of contact. Pretty nifty, huh?”

She hummed in proud approval. “Pretty fuckin’ nifty indeed. Fuck… I’ve missed you, Mike.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” he said, wrapping an arm around her and kissing her hair, breathing her in. “So fuckin’ much.”

“And I’m telling you,” a familiar voice growled, “that I have the bloody tracking device right here! She’s not at the Hydra base! She’s right… in… tada!” Calum said, sweeping the tent open.

Ashton and Luke’s eyes went wide, their mouths working to sputter nonsense. Y/N got to her feet, offering them all a shy wave. “Hey, boys.”

The magic words broke the spell, a giant grin painting each man’s face, before they were all rushing towards her in a gleeful cry of “Y/N!”

“Y/N, what the actual fuck?!” Ashton tried to scold but he was laughing too hard. “Do you have any idea how worried we were?”

“Sorry, Ash. SHIELD orders,” she giggled, hugging the man tightly. “Missed ya too.”

“So it was you! You were the spy on the inside! Fuckin’ brilliant!” Luke marveled. “Go in to rescue the hostages after our first spy betrays us, and replace them with a trusted Avenger. Wow… That’s fuckin’ genius!”

“So I take that as I’m forgiven for worrying you guys, causing you guys to fight amongst yourselves, and having to break Cal’s drone and Mike’s foot?” Y/N asked with a hopeful smile.

“Absolutely,” everyone but Calum told her.

“Cal?” she asked, turning to the man. “Baby brother? Forgive me?”

Calum narrowed his eyes, but there was no hardness to the expression, suggesting he wasn’t actually angry. “You owe me a new drone, first.”

“Deal!” she said, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug. “Fuck, I’ve missed you guys!”

“Glad to have you back with us,” Ashton smiled. “Guys, let’s go check in, so we can all go the fuck home, yeah?”

“Yes, Captain!” they all saluted with a laugh, heading towards triage to check in, and check out.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to get home and shower,” Y/N complained, her right arm thrown over Calum, and her left one thrown over Michael as she trudged happily between her boys once again.

“A good, long, hot shower sounds perfect,” Michael whispered against her ear. “And I think I can come up with a couple of other good, long, and hot activities for us after that shower,” he added, nipping at her playfully.

“Mmmm,” she giggled, leaning into him. “Think you got the strength for all that?”

“For you? Always. And we have a lot of making up to do. Might take days.”

She shivered against him, causing the other three to groan. “At least wait until after we get home before jumping all over each other, yeah?” Ashton asked.

“No promises,” they answered honestly.

Ashton groaned again. “C’mon, let’s give them a minute,” he said with an eye roll as he guided Calum and Luke forward to the line to check in.

Michael wasted no time in their friends’ quick departures to hook his fingers under Y/N’s chin, guiding her to meet him in a fierce kiss, fingers knotting in each other’s hair, breath rushing out of their lungs. “Promise me you’ll always come back to me,” he whispered when they had to break apart to gasp for air, resting his forehead gently against hers.

“I don’t think I can keep that promise, because I’m never leaving you again.”

“Good, because I’m never letting you go.”

__

Tag List

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[eggxeggxegg]

A Harry Potter post compilation so I can find them again

Mine

Metas

My interpretation of Tom Riddle’s diary

Tom Riddle is Jimmy McGill, Dumbledore is Chuck

The movies butchered teenage Dumbledore and Grindelwald and how I interpret grindeldore

Grindelwald was at large while Tom Riddle was a student at Hogwarts

Besides, you’re saying it wrong. It’s voldemorrr, not voldemorT

Why the climax always happens in June

Voldemort flying should look badass

The existence of obscurials isn’t retcon, just Credence as a character

How Voldemort was inspired when coining his name

How I think 1920s Grindelwald and Dumbledore ought to be like

Nagini is ~25ft long

McGonagall wasn’t born yet to be in Crimes of Grindelwald

What is this Tom Riddle/Voldemort nonsense of mine? and Tom Riddle deserves a spin off of his own

Wizarding genetics

Voldemort cosplays as the grim reaper

Hair color references

Why does Cedric look like R?

The lost pottermore extra about Tom Riddle

How I imagine Tom Riddle looks and how he looks as Voldemort

I was booboo the fool. I thought Harry x Luna was going to be endgame

A brief look at Snape and Lily’s friendship

A few characters summarized in a nutshell

Tom spoke in an rp accent at Hogwarts

The technicalities of being on the back of someone’s head

Hagrid and Voldemort were on a first name basis at school

Of Tom Riddle and Ginny Weasley

TLDR for headcanons & theories

AUs

Snape’s role if Lily & James had a girl instead

What if I was also magical and raised at the Wool’s orphanage with Tom Riddle?

What if Tom looked like himself as Voldemort’s signature look?

Left field headcanons

Split pieces of soul don’t mind being in a horcrux

Cursed Child is the play from the atla episode the ember island players

Miscellaneous Tom Riddle headcanons

Tom Riddle was even more of an overachiever than Hermione

Tom Riddle had a PhD in clinical psychology and was really good at it

Of souls, horcruxes, and dementors

Dumbledore failed to see through to the real Tom

2 reasonable headcanons and 2 crazy ones

Tom Riddle did have someone he was attached to as a kid

Voldemort looked the same as during the first war

Voldemort, Nagini, and Bellatrix

Tom Riddle is just as great as Dumbledore

Cedric Diggory v Sirius Black v Tom Riddle

Tom Riddle was actually a hatstall

Tom Riddle wasn’t doing okay

Of Tom Riddle and love

Tom’s unbirthday

Tom is Grant in this collegehumor video

Tin foil hat theories

Voldemort isn’t actually stupid, he just lets Dumbledore & Harry think so

Diary Riddle had no intention of winning

The resurrection stone is a hack

4 questions and my answers to them (and also Muffin’s)

Moaning Myrtle’s death was an accident

Voldemort didn’t care that much about hearing the rest of the prophecy

Horcruxes don’t go offline and what that entails

How Voldemort is still alive, The cup, diadem, and snake were red herrings, & the two posts consolidated together into one post

Merope didn’t use a love potion

Why Harry really stayed at the Dursley’s

Tom Riddle is secretly a left-winger

Model student Tom is much closer to his real self than Voldemort

Where the bodies for the inferi came from and Tom Riddle’s kill count

Tom Riddle never wanted Voldemort to actually win

Carnivorous Muffin’s metas

1) Regulus is over-glorified, 2) Sirius is a Stephen King bully, and 3) Sirius was into James, not Lupin

James Potter is a knob

Poor Lupin. . .

Ron is the least terrible person within the golden trio

Harry shows signs of ptsd as well as borderline & narcissistic personality disorders

Why Harry became an auror instead of the DADA teacher

King’s Cross: it wasn’t real, it was all in Harry’s head

Dumbledore is a manipulative bastard

Dumbledore gives zero shits about child abuse

Dumbledore has little confidence in his own Order that he created

Dumbledore photoshopped Tom Riddle’s job interview to make him ugly because Harry was thirsting over Tom too much

Dumbledore is a liar. Tom Riddle at school was at best tolerated by his Slytherin peers.

Dumbledore likes to surround himself with sycophants

Voldemort is like Breaking Bad’s Saul Goodman or American performer Vermin Supreme. But if they went off the deep end and had a public perception like that of The Dark Knight’s Joker or Breaking Bad’s Heisenberg.

Voldemort’s true goal was quite different than what he wanted people to think

In actuality, Voldemort hated the muggle world less than the wizarding world

You can have thanatophobia and be suicidal at the same time

Voldemort thought Snape would be a competent headmaster and keep the Carrows in check. Snape failed because he thought Voldemort wanted a dystopian academy.

Tom Riddle is a hopeless romantic

The chamber of secrets thing in 1943 was Tom having a mental breakdown

Muggleborns exit Hogwarts with no opportunities to prosper on their own in the wizarding world

What happened with Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop was an accident

Tom Riddle genuinely wanted a teaching post as a job

Nagini wasn’t necessarily a horcrux

But is Tom Riddle genuinely, properly dead this time?

Others’ metas/headcanons

Dumbledore needed Snape to kill him before he died at Harry’s hand

Voldemort’s focus was purely on the wizarding world of Great Britain and he left everyone else alone

Lily Evans could have been a better friend to Snape

Dumbledore was jealous of Tom Riddle

Of Snape and his trauma & it ran much deeper than a grudge

Psychoanalysis of demon baby Voldemort

[diredove]

Curious Fool

My first time attempting to write anything longer than headcanons, please note I’m going off of this AU! I’m in love with Crowley so I see this as an x reader story, but it can easily be interpreted as something else!

Warnings: Very Mild cursing, Crowley being scary (as in, threatening and a hand squeezing a throat), Me grasping at straws to make Potentially Evil!Dire make sense! Gender Neutral Reader as well!

You wondered about Dire Crowley more than you would like to admit. He was an enigma that your brain for some reason was terribly invested in solving. It started small, maybe because you were holding back your suspicion out of guilt, the man had given you a roof over your head and food to eat in this strange new world, surely he deserved better than you concocting conspiracy theories about him? But gratitude should not inspire stupidity in someone, and it didn't inspire in you.

Why exactly was he being so gracious? For all the pretty words he spoke to you, he certainly didn't act guilty. Every sympathy he offered to your plight felt like it was meant to silence you, "Shush, no more of that." he seemed to whisper between the lines. Yes, it was all too bad you were stuck in a world not your own and that poor, poor Crowley was working himself to the bone to find a way back for you to no avail, but what would you have him do? He's already being so kind.

And that was another thing, wasn't it? He wasn't all that kind at all, or if he was it was only in a backhanded way. Wasn't he just the sweetest thing alive for giving you a place to stay? As if you weren't breaking your damn back every single night sleeping on the couch of the teacher's lounge and waking to the racket of your dearest headmaster starting up that monstrous coffee maker at the crack of dawn each morning! Well, what about the food you were provided every single meal time? Quite generous, he'd say. And you would beg to differ because you had a diet of convenience store sandwiches and children's snacks and sodas! Everything you ate was from Sam's shop and didn't cost that old crow a dime!

And maybe, just maybe, you would have been more understanding and grateful for it given your circumstances, if Dire Crowley wasn't absolutely loaded. He could easily afford to buy you actual meals, put you up some place that wasn't a glorified common room, pay you! But for all his guilt and graciousness, he didn't. It felt like he was trying to trick into being grateful to him when he hadn't actually done anything for you to be grateful for, in the grand scheme of things.

But that's not all. If that had been it then you could have convinced yourself you were being dramatic and gone on with your topsy turvy little life. But no, Dire Crowley simply would not let you rest (on a proper bed or otherwise).

Why did he act like that? You were not someone to turn your nose up at an odd personality, considering how well you were handling being in a potential alternate universe, one might say you have one yourself. But there was just something... off about him. He always seemed a bit too happy, he laughed just a tad too hard, his stares were too intense, he went silent after whatever spiel he'd been on so quick you'd think he had a switch inside him. Alone, those were just the quirks of being human (though you didn't even know enough to call him that either), but they stacked up quickly.

And you had really fought with yourself on this, worried you were being prejudice against him out of paranoia, but then you saw him get angry.

Everyone gets angry, everyone yells sometimes, it's a fact of life and you're an adult who can accept that. But seeing the headmaster shift from harmless eccentric man to inflicting backbreaking labor on teenagers who didn't get to explain themselves at all was rather... jarring to say the least. He yelled in his oddly charming accent and his mask hid whatever anger would have shown on his face, and maybe you were being overprotective of the young ones and forgetting that that type of punishment was far more manageable in a world of magic. But you couldn't shake the feeling that he was holding back, like he was seconds away from sounding like a different person beneath the quirky act. Like a parent putting on a goofy voice to scold their child to keep themselves from letting their frustration show.

But, and maybe you're just dense from here on, all that did was make you squint a little. There was just as much of a chance of him putting up a front as there was of you misunderstanding things and reaching too far. But the seed had been planted, and now you were curious.

So, instead of coming up with crazy ideas you had no backing for, you thought: "Let's just ask."

Not Dire, of course, as if he would tell you the truth or appreciate you prodding him. Thankfully though, there were people close to him that you could interrogate instead.

And then you started hitting walls, thick ones.

"What's Dire's deal?" Seemed like a pretty clear question, so why was every single answer you got so convoluted?

Sam had tried to act unbothered, but you saw how his hand froze as he stocked the shelves of the Mystery Shop. He looked at you with his bright smile and waved his free had dismissively.

"He's something alright, I'll give him that! He's an odd one, I guess you could say! What's with the interest, Starlight?" He answered, though a question for a question hardly satisfied you.

Crewel had outright ignored you, even after you had repeated your question several times he kept maneuvering around you and acting like he was busy. He absolutely wasn't, he had moved the same four beakers back and forth between lab tables three times. Once he realized you weren't going to take his hint and scram, he looked down his nose at you as if you had ruined his entire week.

"You know, puppies that never stop yapping are troublesome. But do you know what's even more troublesome, Little Scamp? Puppies that sniff around where they don't belong. You'd do well to train yourself out of that habit, and quickly." He'd told you coldly, which shocked you into a stupor because you had thought him overzealous but friendly just moments before.

You had hoped Trein, with his unflappability and no nonsense policy, wouldn't beat around the bush and would be the one to change your luck so far. Instead, he averted his eyes and cleared his throat uncomfortably. He seemed to be taking extra care to choose his words, as though they were fragile as glass slippers. Even Lucius looked still in his arms.

"He is a man, as am I, nothing more and nothing less. It is best to leave it at that, My Dear." He implored you gently, you couldn't help but feel this was as close to a plea as the stoic man would ever get. Lucius stared at you unblinkingly, as if trying to determine your answer through your eyes alone.

You hoped the cat couldn't actually tell, because your answer was no.

You still had one more shot. Vargas was loud and a bit much at times, but his love of his own voice would work in your favor. However, you had learned from your mistakes and decided getting straight to the point wasn't in your best interest. If everyone wanted to play with you, it was only right to join the game.

"Please, tell me more about your school days, Ashton! Were you really the star of the Magic Shift team?" You asked in an awed tone, eyes wide.

The coach was eating it up like it was his last meal, you had been stroking the man's ego for over two hours already and if he tells you about the goal that turned the playoffs around one more time you think you'll snap. But his defenses are down, and his lips are loose, so you'll grin and bare just a little longer.

"That's right! I was king of NRC, undisputed! There wasn't a soul on campus who didn't want to be mine!" The man boasted, "Well, except for Beth. She wasn't all there though, not that I cared! She wasn't all that, I'm not bitter about it!"

He's definitely bitter about it, but you don't have time to unpack that when your opening is right in front of you.

"Right right, I totally get it. Hey, speaking of the past, when did you meet Crowley?"

Okay, you lied. There wasn't an opening at all, you burst in with a sledgehammer. But your cutesy act was getting hard to keep up!

Vargas takes the sloppy bait though, " Oh, that guy? He just kinda popped up and offered me a job to be honest. The pays good, so I deal with the old coot being a weirdo."

You have to stop yourself from lighting up, "Weirdo?" You question dumbly, finger on your chin and all.

Vargas looks both ways and then gestures for you to come closer, you can't tell if he's being playful or not with that glint in his eyes.

"Look, don't tell anyone I told you this, okay Dolly? Crowley's got some crazy going on around here, I swear. I don't know details but I've got suspicions." The coach whispers, you nod eagerly for him to continue.

"There's this... room. I don't know what's in it, it's always locked and not even the staff master key opens it. He goes in there every Friday, and I don't see him come out, he just appears again Monday morning. There's this bright light that shines under the door whenever he goes in, and after a few seconds, it stops." Ashton explains, and it's more than you had hoped for.

Creepy locked room, disappearing act, unexplained happenings? This is exactly the dirt you've been looking for!

"He thinks he's being sneaky about it, but I caught on, see? I was following him to ask about a some paperwork and I saw it. I know somethings up, Crowley is up to no good and I don't care how crazy I sound." Ashton stresses, as he goes on he seems more serious, you can't take time to be happy about your findings because he looks so pale.

"Vargas, are you oka-"

"Listen Dolly, I know you're curious, but you don't want nothing to do with this and neither do I. Freaky shit is going down, and if you're smart like me you'll act like you don't know a thing."

You stare at him. H-Had he been on to you the whole time?

"I'm trying to help you, stay away from the west wing and don't-" He stops. His eyes are on something behind you.

"V-Vargas?" You call, shakily.

"I've said enough. Stay outta the west wing, Doll. For your own good."

You don't stay out of the west wing.

In fact, you deliberately seek it out. Ace gives you a funny look when you ask him, but he points you in the right direction anyway. You wish you were more embarrassed about being a member of staff asking students for directions, but you've got bigger fish to fry.

You know this isn't smart, no matter how harmless the headmaster may seem, no one likes being found out. But your life is in his golden-clawed hands and you'd feel even less smart following him blindly and hoping you're safe with him.

The west wing isn't what you expected (though to be fair you had been expecting a torture chamber), it's an entirely normal hall like all the others in school. It's so mundane your face falls. There's also no way to tell if anything is amiss from a glance alone, so you'll have to use less tact than you were hoping to. Making your way down the hall you turn each knob one by one to see which won't turn.

After about twenty or so doors, curse the long hallways in this college, you see one that's quite out of place. It's at the very end of the hall, how cliché, and while it is the same size and color as all the others, it's surrounded with a ridiculous number of portraits. There are big ones above the doorframe and little ones squeezed into the narrow spaces along the sides of it, and if that wasn't enough, the ones that wouldn't fit in either spot were enchanted to float nearby. And the portraits themselves are nothing like the silly but sweet ones that gossip as they watch over everyone who passes in the main building, these are painted with snarls and angered eyes. Both human and nonhuman beings are depicted, each one staring straight at whomever would stand in front of the door. Their eyes seem to be looking in every direction at once even though their pupils are painted straight ahead, it feels like they can see everything without shifting their gaze. You can't even tell if they're alive like the others, they're so... cold.

You take a deep breath, that must be it. You've come to this far, and you'd planned everything so carefully there was no reason to be afraid. The students were having Magift practice today, so that meant Vargas was busy, but it also meant that Crowley was doing his rounds and would stop to "give the players some good old fashioned encouragement ". He would go on forever, there was plenty of time for you to investigate and cover your tracks before he ever even wondered where you were.

You could admit the only person you were convincing was yourself, but it helped you forced your legs to move toward the end of the hall. Even as you walked closer, you knew you shouldn't, the air around you seemed like it was trying to force you back, oppressively pushing you with every step you took towards that door. You wouldn't be able to open it, Ashton had told you already, what exactly were you gaining, being stared down by the lifelike yet lifeless portraits as you neared the door? Nothing, and yet your hand grabbed the knob impulsively, you hadn't realized you'd been holding your breath until it left your lungs in a rush at the touch of icy cold iron in your clammy grip.

You shouldn't have touched it, you shouldn't have, now what? Your plan was to turn back after your curiosity was sated, but you couldn't. The force that was pushing back against you before was now pulling you forward, beckoning you. The portraits no longer looked like a warning, but an invitation. You've come so far, now come a little closer, something that wasn't a voice nor a thought breathed around you.

You twist the doorknob, like a fool.

It turns.

Your heart leaps with excitement and fear, and you feel a surge of adrenaline run through your body. You can go in, you can go farther!

You feel yourself smiling widely even though you're sure you're not happy, you go to push the door open just a little further.

You stop as four pinpricks upon your throat flare with pain, your eyes go wide like a deer and you freeze.

"Crewel was right, you're truly nothing but trouble."

The voice sounds familiar, and yet nothing like the person it belongs to. But you'd know those gold-tipped fingers anywhere.

"I really am getting on in years, to make such a mistake." Dire sighs, his voice does not lilt and his tone is low. He sounds like an actor who's given up on staying in character.

You catch a whimper in your throat when the hand upon it slides up the front of your neck to grip under your chin and rear you head back at a terrible angle. You meet the dead-eyed gaze of Crowley's mask as he looks straight down at you.

"But you've made an even bigger mistake, Youngling, by testing me."

You want to apologize, or plead for your safety, because the man looming over you is not the one you've grown reluctantly fond of. But because we have established that you are a fool, you say instead:

"Your vest is a mistake. There's sequins on it." You snark weakly, you sound pathetic, half because of the grade school insult and half because you're gasping for breath.

Dire stares down at you blankly. Then he grins, not his usual one full of jolly cheer, but a wide toothy one that is just a few degrees off from a sneer.

"Oh, you really think you're just the cutest little thing under the sun, don't you?" He asks, he chuckles halfway through but it's dry and dark.

Why are you so foolish, why do you speak?

Abruptly, the pressure points on your neck are released and you fall to your knees, gulping sweet sweet air.

"Well you're right! You're just adorable, thinking you could catch me out!" Dire shouts cheerfully, hands on his hips and accent back in full swing. His façade is back in place like it was never gone.

You stare in disbelief.

"You know, anyone else would have to be put under a curse of eternal silence for snooping around like you did." He continues, "But I am so very kind, I'm going to let you walk out of here without laying a finger on you."

You shakily get to your feet, leaning against the wall for support and as something to curl in on to cower from the overly happy man before you.

He stares at you smiling for many moments too long, you know he's trying to scare you and you're angry at yourself for being so. Abruptly, he nods.

"I'll be off then, I'm sure you get the message? Of course you do! Make your way back to your room then, off you get! Goodbye!"

The man walks away quickly, waving his hand in farewell.

He left you without a fight, with the door left unlocked and you still in position to reveal what was on the other side. You balk at the obvious show of his power over you.

He knew you were too terrified now, he knew you would obey him like a dog told to stay, the smug bastard.

You bite your lip in frustration and confused tears fill your eyes. You just want to know what's going on, you just want to go home! Nothing makes sense.

You look at the door that's slightly ajar.

Then at the exit of the west wing across the long hall.

You can no longer hear Crowley's footsteps.

And because you are a fool, and because you are defiant, and because you want some semblance of control, you make a mad dash through the door before you can change your mind.

[fukurodaze]

five stars: prologue - a clear sky

when he meets you in his first year, you fit his definition of annoying - a model student, the façade of perfection. yet, he finds you occupying his mind too often, too soon.

wc: 1.2k warnings: swearing

m.list | next

he’s going to skip. 

suna rintarou glances at the clock across the room, foot tapping on the wooden floor of the third year classrooms repeatedly as if in a hurry. except he is in a hurry.

although scouted from the aichi prefecture for his volleyball skills, suna is by no means exempt from his failures in the wondrous subject of physics. but how could anyone blame him - he’s had to get used to the mildly different kansai-ben and make the starting lineup at the volleyball interhighs, not to mention live alone at fifteen.

sometimes he’s thankful for this school, as he’s gotten to play for the summer and spring interhighs even as a first year, but there are also times when the over-glorified “student support program”, also known to suna as the additional hour of bullshit every wednesday from a random third year with a superiority complex, gets up in his schedule.

he is not thankful for this. but he is definitely thankful that whichever senpai he’s been assigned to this semester spares him an extra five minutes to contemplate his purpose in this room.

suna has his arm half-looped around the strap of his backpack, blazer folding at the crease where it stays. slowly, he brings it higher, and eventually slides it onto his shoulder. 

“ah, fuck it.”

the boy stands up and brisk walks out the door like it’s life-or-death, his back lowering even more than it usually slouched. his eyes are trained on the door left slightly ajar, and his ears make sure that the only sound comes from the light step of his school shoes against the hardwood floor.

the clock reads 3:15 pm. suna slides the door open.

“hi,” there’s a pause, “class 1-2, suna rintarou?”

shit. 

it’s almost like you’ve appeared out of nowhere. you have a calm smile plastered on your face, and by the slow ring of your voice, he can already feel his eyes rolling.

“yes,” suna backs up into the classroom, letting you in. he takes a seat on the frontmost desk in the classroom, watching as you grab a chair to sit across him.

you sit down and rest your elbows on the desk. you have a stack of papers with you, but you set them aside on another table, and he’s convinced this semester to be the one that finally breaks his grade from a 40 to a 37. out of one hundred.

“sorry i’m late,” you shuffle through your bag, “apparently life doesn’t get easier in high school.”

it takes every muscle in suna’s body to not shoot you an eye roll.

you mutter a delighted gasp as you find your phone hidden somewhere inside your bag, and turn back to your assigned ‘student’ to exchange phone numbers in case he ever needed any additional help.

“okay, based on your past papers,” you lean into the desk, a reliable smile on your face, “i guess we can start with the basics? gravity, velocity, all that.”

suna hates how you’re making this session seem like a daycare. “sure.”

“then, suna-san, tell me about volleyball.”

“what?”

three weeks in, and physics might be a lot easier than he’d thought. he’s gotten accustomed to all the vocabulary and formulas, and he thinks he might actually be able to survive this last semester of his first year and keep his chances of going to the may volleyball camp in osaka.

“suna! left!”

the unmistakeable voice of his coach rings loud as a wake up call, reminding him that it’s five pm on a thursday and he’s in the back row of a six-versus-six round with the team.

the ball falls to the floor, and he shouts a short sorry as the opposite side rotates with miya atsumu on the serve. suna’s known him for some time now, and even before he moved to hyogo. he’s heard a lot of him - best setter at the intermiddle nationals, unstoppable with his twin, and a pain in the ass attitude. 

to be honest, suna doesn’t think he’s half bad as everyone tells him, although he’d love to throw in a snicker or a funny jab from time to time, for both his and atsumu’s benefit.

atsumu takes a few steps back. the whistle blows, and he throws the ball high up into the air, reaching up and snapping his wrist as he hits the ball. it’s a top spin, and it goes far, up to the back row. suna spots it coming his way, and with a quick step, he sounds, “got it!”. his knees are bent and his arms come together. the ball lands harshly on his wrists, and the words ‘chance ball’ are heard from the other players.

suna’s wrists sting only slightly after having practiced his receives with atsumu’s crazy serves for almost a year now. still, even after familiarising himself with his classmate’s spikes, he thinks that there’s always some bit of luck that goes into receiving them - and strength, because he’s only getting better. it doesn’t help that his jump floaters are three quarters their way to being as nasty as his top spins, either.

he remembers your words; “right! with a top spin serve, the air velocity is faster on the top of the ball rather than on the bottom of the ball, which pushes the ball into a downward motion. we can calculate velocity using the equation v=d/t. so, v for velocity, which equals distance divided by time. for example...”

suna shakes his head as he rotates back into the front row. he almost scoffs out loud, as if scolding himself, in what kind of earth is he living in that has him thinking of physics during volleyball, and why do tutoring sessions with you always seem to go so fast, and how come your voice always sounds so bright, and-

the ball hits the palm of his hand in a clean one-man shutout. the players on his side of the court give him high fives. he tells himself he’ll think about you later.

that night, as suna closes his notebook after another inevitably short-lived round of reviewing for finals, he finds himself zoning out as numbers on worksheets are replaced with other thoughts. suna thinks about volleyball, which now makes him think of physics, which makes him think of you. and seeing as he thinks about volleyball about seventy percent of the time, he ends up thinking about you seventy percent of the time, too. 

maybe only fifty percent of the time. but that’s still half of his time having you in the back of his mind while he answers equations, coordinates blocks, and eats with his friends.

he doesn’t know much about you, but he’s found out that you’re one year his senpai, a member of the cheerleading team, a class representative for the student council, and, after a few stares at old bulletin boards, he knows that you’re ranked within the top ten of your grade.

(not that you had told him yourself, since all you talk about with him is physics, but it’s natural to get curious of one’s tutor, right? definitely. of course. always.)

suna wonders if it’s better to fail physics and keep having to spend an hour with you every week or to improve significantly and hear your direct praise. 

“this is so stupid,” suna tells himself as he slides under his covers just before midnight. 

someone in the house has a little bit of a crush.

(suna lives alone.)

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