#something something no one saying a word about Barney after he got on that stupid train....

[arrimorr]

Out here stuck thinking about how when Gordon disappeared people made a legend and a Messiah out of him, while when Barney got poofed out of the narrative everyone just forgot about him

[lifeofkaze]

hello i have fallen i love with your charlie fic (❤❤!!) and i want to ask if you could you write some angst where barnaby has a crush on mc and they're super oblivious and later they start dating someone else ans barnaby realizes he lost them?

My dearest anon, let me say: I AM SORRY. Writing your ask took me forever (literally, lol) even though I had it in my head the moment I got your asks all those months ago. But I never felt the right inspiration to actually write it down until today. Today it just hit me. I do hope you're actually still around and reading what I made out of it.

I'm really truly sorry. 😅

So, without further ado, I present to you:

Missed Chances

Barnaby Lee x Reader

Barnaby Lee wasn’t the smartest kid around.

He was by no means dumb, he just wasn’t as clever or booksmart as most of his peers, a fact he was well aware of. But it didn’t bother him that much, really. He had found his means of getting by during classes and ever since distancing himself from Merula Snyde back in their third year, he had been able to gather a circle of friends around him he could fall back upon.

There was popular Penny Haywood for Potions, shy but gifted Ben Copper for Charms, and ever so patient Rowan Khanna when he had troubles with Transfiguration.

Barnaby’s favourite study sessions, however, were those for Defense Against The Dark Arts. Not because he was particularly bad at the subject; on the contrary, he was a skilled duelist and most charms and jinxes came naturally to him. No, the real reason those lessons were his favourite was because it was you who was teaching him.

Ever since he’d been drawn into your close circle of friends, his above average DADA marks had been plummeting, since he kept getting distracted during class. The professors weren’t impressed but neither surprised at his apparent lack of academic skills and under normal circumstances, Barnaby would have tried everything in his power to prove them wrong, that he could do better, that he wasn’t as stupid as everyone made him out to be.

But when you offered your help in catching up on the subject, Barnaby had changed his mind. You were always top of your DADA class and what better way to spend some time alone with you while listening to your beautiful voice explaining the differences between a curse and a hex.

Barnaby knew most of the things you were telling him already, so he had ample time to just watch you talk during your study sessions. He knew no one else could get so excited over dark creatures and cursed objects like you did. The way your eyes were sparkling when lecturing him on the differences between a werewolf and regular wolf had him enthralled every single time and the proud smile you gave him when he answered one of your questions correctly never failed to make Barnaby’s heart beat hard in his chest.

He would have loved to see that smile more often, but he made sure to let his real knowledge of the subject shine through sparingly. He was afraid that if he got too good, you might want to drop studying with him and that was something he couldn’t risk; spending time with you had become the highlight of his day. No one he knew rivalled the warmth you radiated and the unbroken faith you had in him, a sentiment that was completely new to Barnaby.

When the big news of the Celestial Ball was announced, it was all his peers could talk about. What to wear, how to look and who to bring were the questions dominating all of the four common rooms.

Barnaby never had to think twice who he wanted to be his date for the dance. He thought about how to properly ask you out for days on end; you were no common girl after all. You were the most extraordinary girl he knew and thus deserved an extraordinary invitation. But when he finally plucked up the courage to ask you out, you looked at him sheepishly.

“That’s so sweet of you, Barney. I’m so flattered, really. But I already promised Rowan and Ben to go with them. You know, just as friends.”

His heart sank at the words. Why hadn’t he acted sooner? Maybe people were right about him being stupid after all.

Seeing his disheartened look, your face changed into something softer. “But I’m sure Rowan and Ben wouldn’t mind if you came along with us? As another friend?”

Barnaby beamed at her. “I’d love that. We’re going to have such a great time together, as friends,” he added, not quite sure whom he wanted to reassure, you or himself.

He would probably never forget the night of the Celestial Ball when he saw you in the dress André Egwu had designed for the first time. Rowan and Ben had arrived at the ball before you and when you stepped into the Great Hall all on your own, Barnaby’s breath stopped for a moment.

You were dressed in a beautiful, burgundy dress with intricate patterns embroidered around the neckline. Your waist was accentuated by a small belt and the skirt of your dress flowed around you in several layers of fabric. You looked like an ethereal being to him as you walked through the crowd over to him, Rowan and Ben, your skirt trailing slightly behind you.

His eyes didn’t leave you for the whole evening even for a second. He could hear you laughing when you danced with Rowan and Ben, the sound like silver bells to his ears. When he asked you for a dance with him, your hand just happened to fit perfectly into his and your bright smile made Barnaby forget everything else around you and him. He did take great care to not step on your dress, however. You looked so perfect, he didn’t want to ruin it with his own clumsiness; although he pretty much doubted anything could have taken away from your beauty.

When the Celestial Ball was over, Barnaby took the chance to walk you back to your common room. You had your arm linked with his and marched in step with him. As he was taller than you, it required some effort on your part, the strange walking rhythm making you giggle. The sound had Barnaby’s heart beat faster.

Barnaby was almost reluctant to let you go when you had reached the concealed entrance to your common room. He wasn’t quite sure what to do; all he wanted to do was put his arms around you, drawing you as close to him as possible and never letting go again. But he hesitated; what if you didn’t feel the same?

To gain some time, he cleared his throat. “I had a lot of fun tonight.”

“Me too,” you smiled at him. “I’m glad you came along. You just have the most fun with your friends, right?”

The word ‘friends’ put a damper on the butterflies that had been swarming in Barnaby’s stomach until this point.

“Yes, friends,” he echoed, “because we’re friends.”

A look of confusion crossed your face for a moment. “Are you alright?”

“Of course I am,” Barnaby lied quickly, glad that the flickering light of the torches hid the blush spreading on his cheeks. “Just exhausted from dancing, I guess.”

“Oh, alright. I’d better get to my common room then. Good night.”

There was a short, awkward pause, before you smiled at him, waved and vanished into your common room. Barnaby sighed; at least for night, he had definitely botched his chances.

Ever since the Celestial Ball and the anticlimax of its ending, Barnaby had made it his mission to convince you there was more to him than being your friend. He’d ventured into the library on his own and gathered together all books on romance he could find and read every single one of them. Most of them, especially the older ones, had given him quite some headaches, but he knew you enjoyed reading old love stories, so maybe they had some useful information to offer. How someone could spend their free time reading things like Jane Austen for fun, however, remained a mystery to him.

And apparently, the tips he had sourced weren’t that helpful either. Barnaby tried it all, he complimented you, he brought you flowers and small gifts that reminded him of you and tried connecting with you over things he knew you loved. Whenever he saw the chance to ask you out he tried. But as soon as he had gathered his courage, you had already promised one of your numerous friends to go with them instead. It was exasperating, really.

All the while, the study sessions with you continued. Barnaby had stopped pretending to be as oblivious as he made himself out to be in the beginning; he knew it was risky, in case you might want to drop studying with him if he got better, but he was too addicted to your smile at this point. No matter how hard his day had been, a smile from you and everything else was forgotten.

Barnaby wished you would finally notice just how much he adored you, but as long as he could spend time with you, listen to your voice and hear your laughter, everything was fine with him.

Until it was not.

He had noticed you were distracted lately and not as talkative as he was used to. Today’s Potions class was no exception. Professor Snape, who was even moodier than usual, was lecturing the class on the importance of knowing potion recipes by heart.

“You will not always carry a textbook with you,” he droned, “and while I wouldn’t trust half of you to brew a potion even with proper instructions, maybe some of you will be able to produce something remotely resembling a proper concoction by sheer luck. If I see one piece of parchment on the table, you will clean your classmates’ cauldrons after class. Begin.”

Dreading the next two hours of guessing which ingredients to use in what order, Barnaby glanced over to you. But you hadn’t been listening to the instructions, it seemed. Your attention was focused on a piece of parchment in front of you, hastily scribbled lines running across it. Barnaby tried catching a glimpse but when you noticed, you blushed deeply and quickly covered the parchment with your hand.

Barnaby, however, wasn’t the only one who had noticed the piece of parchment. Before you could do anything, Professor Snape had appeared next to you and snatched the parchment out of your grip.

“I thought I said no notes allowed, or didn’t I express myself clearly enough for your convenience?” he snarled.

“No, Professor, you misunderstand,” you gasped, “these aren’t Potions notes, it’s private. Can I please have it back?”

You reached for it, but Snape jerked his hand up so it was just out of reach. “That gives it even less reason to be present in my classroom,” he said coldly, a cruel smile stealing onto his face. “Let us share with the rest of the class what is distracting you from my lesson.”

Your cheeks were glowing bright red as Snape started reading the content of your note.

“Do you like me? Yes or No. Circle your answer,” he read out loud. “How droll,” he sneered over the chuckle of your classmates, “I suggest, next time you concentrate more on your potion and less on your silly personal bearings. Perhaps the result will be more decent then. 10 points from you and detention tonight.”

As he swept past your table, Barnaby noticed your hanging head. You had your hands clasped tightly together in your lap and seemed so small all of a sudden that he felt furious. Even though Snape was his head of house, he had no right whatsoever to embarrass you in front of everyone like that.

“Are you okay?” he asked you gently.

Not looking at him, you shook his head. “Why did he have to do that?” you whispered. “He could see I wasn’t taking notes. There was no need to read it out loud.”

“There wasn’t,” Barnaby agreed. He hesitated for a moment before reaching out and lightly placing his hand on your arm. “He’s just a big, old, mean bat. Everyone says so.”

You sniffed, a small smile already spreading on your face again. “That’s true. Thank you.” You covered his hand with yours and squeezed it lightly. The touch sent jolts of energy through Barnaby from where your hands connected. His skin was still tingling when you turned towards your cauldron again, breaking the contact.

“Who was your note for, anyway?” Barnaby asked, trying not to sound as if this wasn’t the question burning red hot on his mind.

You looked at him wide-eyed. “I can’t possibly tell you.”

“Why not? Do I know him?”

Blushing again, you could only nod before dropping your gaze.

“It’s someone I’ve been friends with for a while now, but I don’t know if he feels the same. I don’t want to ruin our friendship by making a stupid move.”

Barnaby held his breath. You couldn’t possibly be talking about him, could you?

“How could it ruin your friendship?” he asked. “If he’s your friend, he’s your friend and nothing can change that.”

He took a deep breath. “Maybe you should just tell him,” he said deliberately casually, “who knows, maybe that friend of yours has been feeling the same for some time now, too.”

You looked up at him in surprise. “You think so?”

Barnaby nodded in agreement. “Definitely. Just try your luck, maybe you’ll be surprised.”

After the class was over and you had parted ways for the rest of the day, Barnaby counted the minutes until the evening when you had agreed to meet for another study session before your detention. He was positively bouncing with energy ever since lunchtime. You had come over to him with a nervous smile on your lips to ask him to meet up with you later.

“Chances are, I’ll need to tell you something,” you had said with a shaky laugh before joining your other friends for lunch. Barnaby had swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to look unfazed, but his insides had been burning with impatience ever since.

That was why he had arrived earlier than usual at the library that evening. He picked all the books out you would be needing and stacked and restacked them several times at the table you were usually working on.

It felt like an eternity until you finally entered the library, each second dragging into an eternity of its own. Barnaby saw you first. You stood in the entrance to the grand room and all of a sudden the library seemed to be a little brighter just by you being there. You scanned the rows of bookshelves with your eyes and a wide smile appeared on your face as they fell on him, waiting for you between books and quills in your favourite spot.

You quickly bounded over to him, a spring in your step that was a stark contrast to the miserable mood you had been in this morning. Before Barnaby even had a chance to ask what made you so happy, you had flung your arms around his neck in a tight embrace.

On instinct, Barnaby put his arms around your waist and held you for a sweet moment that he wished would last forever. He could smell the flowery scent of your perfume and breathed it in deeply, trying to commit every last detail of how you felt in his arms to memory. He was sure you had to feel his heartbeat; how could you not with how hard it was hammering against his ribcage?

“He said yes, Barney! He really said yes!” you squealed, not caring one bit about Madam Pince’s indignant shush.

The sheer happiness coursing through his veins turned into ice that froze him from the inside in a matter of seconds. Confused, he loosened his hold on you and pushed you far enough away from him to look you in the face. The joy visible on it almost broke his heart.

“What?”

“My crush!” you beamed at him. “I followed your advice and asked him out, just now! And he said yes!” you repeated, hugging him again.

“You’re the first person I wanted to tell,” you said. Barnaby could feel your breath on the skin exposed by the open collar of his shirt. He hated himself for the shiver running down his spine.

“Why?” was all he managed to whisper in response.

“Because without you, I’d never have the courage to talk to him upfront. It’s all thanks to you that I have a date now. You’re really the best friend I could ask for.”

Every word you spoke was like a dagger pushed up to the hilt into his broken heart, every second he saw you smile at the prospect of going out with the boy you wanted to be with - the boy that wasn’t him - a twist of the blade until he felt like he couldn’t breathe anymore. His heart, that had beaten so wildly just moments before when he had held you in his arms, could have stopped beating right there and then; Barnaby doubted it would have felt much different to the consuming emptiness he felt at this very moment.

You were rambling on and on about where you wanted to take your date and what you would wear but Barnaby wasn’t listening. He didn’t even know who you were talking about; all he knew was that it wasn’t him and that thought was louder in his head than your words could ever be.

“What do you think of that?”

Barnaby realised you had come to the end of your explanations and expected an opinion from him. He forced himself to smile apologetically at you, when all he wanted to do was scream.

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that,” he croaked out.

Your brow creased. “Are you okay? You’re so pale all of a sudden.”

“I’m good,” Barnaby answered with a hoarse voice. He cleared his throat and started again. “I’m good, I just caught a cold, I think. I should go see Madam Pomfrey later.”

You made a sceptical sound and raised one eyebrow. “If you say so. So what do you think? Is Madam Puddyfoot’s Tea Shop a good idea or not?”

Barnaby had never heard of this tea shop before, but he’d go to Knockturn Alley for a date if it only was with you. “It doesn’t matter where you take him. He’s lucky he gets to go with someone like you in the first place.”

“That’s sweet of you to say.”

“I’m just happy you’re happy,” Barnaby said and even meant it, in a way. He just wished the source of your happiness was him and not somebody else.

You hugged him once again and he was glad that you couldn’t see the pained expression crossing his features for a moment. “You’re the best, Barney. I’m so glad to have you in my life.”

You let go and turned towards the table laden with books Barnaby had so carefully set up. “Shall we?”

He sat down with you and watched as you started taking out your notes on objects cursed with minor jinxes. Your eyes were sparkling even more than usual and even now, you were so beautiful to Barnaby it hurt.

With a sigh, he concentrated on what you had to say for a change. His time spent daydreaming about you was over for good now, so he might as well do what the two of you were here for and study.

No, Barnaby Lee wasn’t the smartest kid around.

But even he knew that when it came to you, he had missed too many chances.

[marshmallow-phd]

Book of the Dead

Genre: The Mummy AU

Pairing: Junmyeon x Reader

Summary: After traveling to the fabled city of Hamunaptra, you read from the Book of the Dead and accidentally resurrect an ancient mummy with extraordinary powers and quest for revenge. The only thing to do now is try and convince your less-than-traditional guide to help you save the world. 

Part 1 I Part 2

**

“I just said a few sentences!”

“What did you do that for!”

“Well, I didn’t know that that would happen!”

You stared at the aggravating, self-absorbed, cocky Korean soldier and wondered why on earth you had decided to negotiate for this man’s life. 

Alright, you did know why. You needed him to show you to Hamunuptra - the fabled City of the Dead. 

Too many times you had stood in front of the museum curator with pages and pages of references and evidence that the place existed and just needed a small team of archeologists in order to track it down. He’d shot you down every time. And each time he took the liberty of reminding you that while your father was an exceptional explorer who had many successes under his belt, you were a woman whose life had been spent between the shelves, cataloging. Your adventures consisted of the fictional kind, devouring any novel you could when you weren’t archiving the latest crate of artifacts and texts. 

Then your cousin showed up. Your normally useless, hare-brained, erratic, drunkard cousin showed up at your apartment with a “fun new artifact” he found on his latest trip. And suddenly your luck had completely turned around. 

Or so you thought. 

Now you were standing in the middle of Hamunaptra, feet sinking into the unstable sand, with an empty sarcophagus and everyone blaming you because you did what you did best - read.

It was only a book. Albeit, a very heavy, possibly-made-of-painted-solid-gold book that was written in the dead language of ancient Egypt, but still. What harm had ever come from reading a book?

Kim Junmyeon stared at you as if you were the one who had risen from the dead. You were still stunned at how different he looked from when you had first met him in that smelly prison, minutes away from being hanged. His hair had been long and stringy, clumps of dirt clinging to the dark brown strands that brushed his shoulders. Now it was shorter, cut above his ears and gelled back in the current style that almost made him look like a gentleman. The several days’ stubble was long gone to reveal smooth skin and a sharp jawline. He was actually very handsome - when he was cleaned up. 

Stupid, you hissed at yourself. Now was not the time for this. Because right now there seemed to be a reanimated mummy running around here. And by the looks of Barney’s husk of a body lying deep within the temple underground, it was hungry. 

As it should be, given the three thousand years it spent locked up under piles of sand. 

“Really, you should have been more careful!” your cousin, Baekhyun, scolded. 

You scoffed. “You’re one to talk. You were the one who snatched the key off of Mr. Kim here at one of your seedy bars and then proceeded to lie to me and say that you found it on a dig in Thebes which in turn brought us here!”

Baekhyun opened and closed his mouth as he searched for a possible retort. 

“I think this is more your fault,” Kim Junmyeon’s own cousin and traveling partner, Oh Sehun, said. “You told us to go down a level and dig under the statue, which in turn,” he mocked your tone almost precisely, “caused the mummy to be able to get out of his sarcophagus. If we had dug somewhere else entirely, then he’d still be trapped under the statue of Anubis.”

“Despite the fact that it was two layers deep, nothing would have been able to hold a victim of the Hom-Dai.”

“Would have given poor Barney a chance,” Kim Junmyeon muttered under his breath. You shot him a glare that he hardly noticed. 

“I say that we get out of here and to the safety of the city before the mummy finds us.” Oh Sehun swallowed thickly. “Or worse. The beetles find us.” The supposedly brave soldier who had two pistols hanging under each arm was more terrified of the flesh eating bugs than he was the living mummy that was bringing about the ten plagues of Egypt. You’d already lived through the locust infestation, but that was always the most minor of the plagues. In your opinion. 

“We told you to leave,” Ardeth said in that low, monotone voice that made him seem centuries old. You had only known him for a few hours, but you already feared and respected him. Despite the fact that he had attacked your campsite the night before. “Now you have condemned the whole world to the very monster that we have spent three thousand years keeping hidden.”

Kim Junmyeon finally tore his face away from yours. “I told you. I shot him. He went down.”

“Mortal weapons are useless against this creature. None can kill him.” Stepping up, he stood toe to toe with the soldier who led you here. “A gun is nothing more than a fly to him. He will never eat. He will never sleep. And he will never stop. Not until this world is only sand.”

Though still not completely backing down, Kim Junmyeon took hold of your arm. “Come on. We’re going back to Cairo.”

**

The camel ride back to the city was long, tiring, and a bit painful, if you were honest. The inside of your thighs were sore from keeping you up right on the animal’s back for hours on end under the blazing heat. You were used to the comfortable back seat of a car, even if the roads here tended to be on the bumpier side. Kim Junmyeon stayed at your side the entire time, up until you were back in your hotel room. All your things were still in there. That was nice, even if it was to be expected. The desk clerk had sworn he would keep the room reserved for you until you made it back. And now that you had, you were on to the next fight. 

“We’re not going anywhere!” 

Kim Junmyeon pretended not to hear you as he started emptying the dresser drawers of your clothes and stuffing them in your suitcases lying open on the bed.

“Excuse me! I said we’re not going anywhere!” As soon as he stepped away again, you slammed the suitcase shut. A stray white cat that you didn’t have the heart to remove from your room took advantage of the newly available space and laid down on the surface of the luggage. Unbothered by the argument taking place in its presences, it purred as it curled into a ball and closed its eyes. 

“You keep using the word ‘we’ and I’m not sure why,” he said. “I believe you were the one who woke him up in the first place.”

“Yes, I get it!” you shouted. “Everyone can blame me because I read the damn book, but that is why we need to stop him.”

He closed the empty drawer and turned back around to face you. “And how exactly do you plan on doing that? You heard Ardeth. No mortal weapon can kill this guy.”

“That’s why we’re going to find some immortal ones.”

He pulled a pair of rounded glasses from his pocket, wiped the lenses with his shirt, and stuck them on the bridge of his nose. “There goes that ‘we’ business again.”

You huffed, trying not to focus on the newest version of the soldier now being presented in front of you. “Yes, we. Because this curse will continue to get worse until the whole world is destroyed.”

“And that’s my problem?”

“It is everybody’s problem! You live here, too!”

Kim Junmyeon stepped up until he was mere inches away. “Listen. I appreciate you saving my life and all, but when I agreed to this idiotic mission my objective was to show you the way and then bring you back here. I have done that. End of job. End of story. Contract terminated.”

You tried not to show how his last few words affected you. Though you had been a little intoxicated two nights ago, you still very much remembered how sweet he had been, how he had listened to you go on and on about your parents and how much you wanted to be a famous adventurer like your father. And how you almost kissed him. And how he was going to kiss you back. Stupidly, you had thought that there was something growing between you. Apparently, you had been wrong. 

“Is that all I am to you?” you whispered. “A contract?”

Kim Junmyeon blew out haughtily from his nose. His Adam’s Apple bobbed as he swallowed. He opened his mouth and then closed it. You waited in hopes that he would contradict you. That he would say, no that was not all you were to him. And it really seemed like he would be saying something along those lines. But other words came out instead. 

“Look. You can either come with me or you can try and stay here and save the world. So. What’s it going to be?”

You didn’t even hesitate. “I’m staying.”

“Fine.” He headed for the door. 

“Fine,” you bit back, following him. 

“Fine,” he threw at you again as he barely glanced over his shoulder.

“Fine!”

“Fine!” 

He got the last word in before slamming the door to your room shut. 

You huffed as you crossed your arms. Yet, as angry as you were, you still hoped that he would come back. That he wouldn’t let you take this on alone. But the footsteps on the other faded away and you were alone.

Looking around your room, you didn’t think there was much you could do. So, you did what you were best at. You grabbed all the books you thought could help you and got to reading. 

While sitting in the wicker chair in the corner, you skipped around the books and pages, clinging on to any small word that you thought could lead you to a possible solution. There wasn’t much to be found, unfortunately. Most works spoke of how to perform the Hom-Dai and how it should never be performed due to the curse that awaits should the victim ever be awakened. You already knew that. You needed specifics on what to do after the victim came back. 

“(Y/n)!”

Kim Junmyeon came bursting back into your room. You slammed the book in your hands closed, feeling very high and mighty indeed.

“Ah. Mr. Kim. Have you changed your mind?”

“Doesn’t matter now, he’s here!”

“What!”

He didn’t clarify as he hoisted you up out of the chair and pulled you out of the room, and into the hall. Through the windows, you watched in horror as fire fell from the heavens. The balls of flame engulfed anything it touched when it landed, whether it be plant or human life. Turning a corner, Kim Junmyeon ran into a room you knew was occupied by another one of the Americans that you had ran into on your way to Hamunaptra. You gasped. 

In the chair, now nothing more than dried, husky skin and hollow bones was… oh, dear you couldn’t remember his name. You hadn’t bothered to learn them. You and Baekhyun had simply referred to them as the “Bloody Americans”. You were feeling a bit awful about that at the moment. 

But you didn’t have much time to dwell on that. Standing in front of the fireplace was a new version of the mummy. His skin was starting to come together, though patches were still missing, allowing you to see the gray bone and lack of organs underneath. Kim Junmyeon pulled out both of his guns as the mummy stalked forward. 

“We are in deep trouble,” he murmured before opening fire. The loud pops banged on your poor eardrums. You stumbled back a few steps to try and soften their blows. It didn’t work. 

The bullets passed through the mummy as if they didn’t exist at all. Even when Oh Sehun and the other Americans came running into the room and firing off their own guns, the mummy still kept going. He shoved Kim Junmyeon back into the others as if he were nothing more than old wrappings. Then he turned on you. 

Completely unarmed, you stumbled back until you were betrayed by the bookshelf behind you. There was nowhere to run. Instead of sucking out your liver, however, he spoke. 

“You were the one who saved me from the afterlife.” His words were haunting, echoing as if he was speaking in a cavern. And the language he spoke… ancient Egyptian. You weren’t sure why you expected to speak anything else. Coming in closer, he lowered his voice. “I thank you.” 

He leaned in his head, those very human eyes lowering to your lips. You turned your head away to try and avoid the kiss, confused as to why he was trying to seduce you. 

Sharp, unpleasing notes from the piano pierced through the air. The mummy turned and gasped when he saw the white cat from your room walking across the keys. In a whirl of sand, he fled from the room. 

“Oh, thank god,” you said with a heavy breath.

“No kidding,” Kim Junmyeon groaned as he sat up. 

You ran to his side, fearful that he might have been injured. “Are you alright, Mr. Kim?”

“Yes,” he huffed. With a very odd expression, he added, “And I told you to call me Junmyeon.”

To be honest, after your fight, you didn’t think you would be allowed to anymore. A strange silence settled between you. He was trying to say something with his gaze, but you couldn’t interpret it. So, instead, you helped him to his feet. “Come on. I know who we need to talk to about all of this.”

It took a while to get back to the museum that had employed you for the past year or so. Every street was full of panicking people. Flames no longer fell from the heavens, but little fires still raged on homes and carts. The Americans had declared that they were coming along, so your group was slower in moving. Although you didn’t really want the mummy bait to be anywhere near you, Junmyeon and Sehun decided that it would be better to keep an eye on them and - hopefully - keep them out of the mummy’s grasp. 

“Dr. Bey!” You ran into the museum’s main storage room, happy when you saw the curator. But then you skidded to a stop at the sight that he wasn’t alone. 

Ardeth was talking with him in hushed tones that stopped the second you appeared. Both men turned towards you, the curator wearing a very readable expression. It was one that stunk of “I told you so”. The others were only a few steps behind. As soon they, too, saw the unexpected visitor, Junmyeon, Sehun, and the Americans pulled out their guns while Baekhyun simply squeaked in surprise. 

“Gentlemen,” Dr. Bey greeted as if this were any old meeting on a Tuesday. 

“What is he doing here?” Junmyeon demanded. Even with the black tattoos etched under Ardeth’s eyes, you could tell that he was tired, dark circles from lack of sleep bruising his skin. 

Dr. Bey raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you want to know? Or perhaps you would prefer to just shoot us?”

“Either sounds good.” Junmyeon cocked back the hammer of one of his guns for emphasis. 

“Stop it,” you hissed. “Bullets won’t do any good here. Besides, you might damage some of the artifacts.”

Junmyeon failed to suppress a laugh over your concern. Despite the present danger, you still didn’t want to see the carriages or sacred jars damaged because someone got trigger happy. So, Junmyeon holstered his guns and the others soon followed suit. “All right. I’ll give a little faith.”

Dr. Bey motioned for the group to follow him in deeper. “We’re part of a secret society-”

“Aren’t they all?” Baekhyun muttered. Both you and Dr. Bey shot him glares that made him snap his mouth shut. 

“For over three thousand years, we have guarded the City of the Dead. Once we reach manhood, we swear an oath to do anything and everything in our power to stop the high priest Imhotep from rising from the grave.”

“And now we have failed. Thanks to you.” Ardeth gave you a particularly pointed look. 

By now, you were getting very irritated with the constant finger pointing. What was done was done. You were not going to show him any cowardice. “And that justifies the murder of innocent people?” 

“Hm. To stop this creature?” Dr. Bey pretended to think for a moment. “Yes.”

Junmyeon, untroubled by that, raised his hand from the golden seat of a dead royal that he had taken over. “I have a question. Why doesn’t he seem to like cats?”

“Cats are the guardians of the underworld. He will fear them until he reaches full regeneration.”

“Then there will be nothing that he fears.” Worry was very much apparent in the soldier’s voice.

“And you know how he gets regenerated?” one of the Americans asked rhetorically. 

The other one finished. “By tracking those of us down who opened the chest and sucking us dry like a nomad in the desert, that’s how!”

It was completely pointless to go over the things that were already known. Now was the time to try and piece the unused parts together. Two particular moments were sticking out in your head. 

“Back in Hamunaptra, the priest - Imhotep - he called me Ack-Su-Namun. And then just now at the hotel, he….” You cringed at the memory, thankful that you didn’t have to feel the decomposed skin against your own. “He tried to kiss me.”

“It’s because of Anck-Su-Namun and his love for her that he was cursed,” Dr. Bey explained, exchanging a look with Ardeth. “Even after all this time….”

“He’s still in love with her?” Sehun finished with a scoff. 

You appreciated the backstory, however - “As romantic as that is, what does that have to do with me?”

“Perhaps he will try to raise her from the dead once again?” Ardeth guessed. 

“Yes,” Dr. Bey agreed solemnly. “And it would seem that he has already chosen his human sacrifice.”

All eyes in the room turned to you. Wonderful. 

Not only were you the one who read from the book and raised him, but you would also be responsible for the return of his beloved, who was the reason he was cursed in the first place. Absolutely beautiful. 

Baekhuyn came up behind you and patted your shoulder. “That is some rotten luck, dear cousin.”

“Actually, this could work in our favor,” Dr. Bey countered. “It could give us time that we desperately need to kill the creature.”

“We’ll need every second, I think,” Sehun said. He pointed towards the ceiling. “I think he’s getting stronger.”

Through the large window high up on the wall, the sun was in clear view. You all watched in horror as the moon moved too quickly across the sky and blocked the light from reaching Earth. 

“I’m guessing this is the plague of darkness?” Baekhyun said ominously. You nodded slowly. 

“Let’s go,” Junmyeon said softly beside you, his hand coming up protectively behind your back. “We’ve got to get back to the hotel and come up with a plan.”

**

“I’m just saying, it seems very stupid to comdem someone to a curse when the result of that would be for them to come back a supernatural creature who is practically unkillable.”

“The ancient Egyptians believed in balance,” you explained to Baekhyun for the hundredth time in your life. “To curse someone so badly in both this life and the next, there has to be a consequence to balance out the scales. If not, then the whole world could still fall apart, in even worse ways!”

“All of this is kind of pointless now, isn’t it?” Sehun sighed from the small table in the antechamber to your room. His feet were up on the polished surface as he leaned back in his seat. A look of irritation was etched on his face as he stared at your cousin. “What’s done is done. Right now, we need to focus on our next step.”

“Well, I know you two,” you pointed to the Americans, “opened the chest. As well as Barney. Was there anyone else?”

“The Egyptologist that was with us,” the shaggier one answered. “Professor Chamberlain. He has a temporary residence a few blocks over.”

“What about my best friend Beni?” Junmyeon asked. You nearly snorted. You knew the two of them were anything but friends.

“No. He ran out before we took the lid off. Ended up saving his own skin.”

“Sounds like Beni,” Junmyeon said dryly. “Okay. We’re going to go get the Professor. You four,” he pointed to all the men, “come with me. You, stay here.”

Oh, no you weren’t. “Excuse me! I am just as capable as any of them are. I will not- What do you think you’re doing!”

Junmyeon marched over to you, picked you up, and carried you over his shoulder until you were in your room. Then he dropped you on the floor, closed the door, and locked it tight. “This door doesn’t open.”

You didn’t know who he said it to, who he left in charge of watching you like an infant. It didn’t matter. You pounded your fist against the solid wood door. “Baekhyun! Junmyeon! Let me out! Baekhyun, you coward! Help me out here!”

“Sorry, cousin!” Baekhyun yelled on the other side of the door. “But… he’s got a gun.”

“Smart choice,” you heard Junmyeon say. Oh, you were going to kill him. Which “him” was yet to be decided. Perhaps both would be most satisfactory. 

Well, now you were stuck here. 

Crossing your arms, you sat on the edge of the bed and contemplated your choices. Not that you had many. 

A yawn forced its way out. You were tired. Over the past few days, you had hardly been able to get any real sleep. And, well, now seemed to be a time. So, you changed into your nightgown and slipped under the covers. The mattress was soft, like a cloud. The pillows were stuffed into freshly cleaned cotton cases. It was barely a few minutes before you drifted off…

And then abruptly woke up to something moving against your mouth. It started out soft but quickly turned ashen and tough. Your eyes flew open and you screamed, the sound muffled by the kiss of Imhotep!

You tried to shove him off, but he didn’t budge. Your touch meant nothing to him as he continued the unwanted kiss. 

The door to your room burst open, finally taking his attention and allowing your scream to be heard at full volume. Imhotep’s face was half rotten away, his lips completely gone, the cheeks held together by thin strips of jerky-like skin. You scrambled out of reach, to try and get as far away as the tiny room would allow. The movement caused you to fall out of the bed and land hard on the wood floor.

Standing up, Imhotep said something in ancient Egyptian, but your jumbled, still half-asleep brain couldn’t translate it. 

“Oh, really?” Junmyeon mocked. “Here’s my answer.” He held up the poor cat who had saved you earlier, the animal hissing threateningly at the mummy. Just like last time, Imhotep fled in a tornado of sand out the window, terrified of the innocent creature. 

“Are you alright?” Junmyeon asked as he let the cat fall from his hands. The cat landed gracefully on its feet and walked over to the bed with more dignity than you’d ever seen a human radiate. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” Baekhyun answered. After a glare from Junmyeon, he cleared his throat. “Oh. You weren’t- that’s fine. Go… check on her.” Junmyeon did just that. 

Kneeling in front of you, he pushed away a few stray hairs that had fallen in your face. Warm, soft brown eyes searched for any sign of harm. The tips of his fingers brushed against your cheek, setting the skin on fire. Or perhaps that was just the blood rushing up to your face in slight embarrassment. This man made you… nervous in a way. He could be dastardly at times, but… also very sweet. 

Clearing your throat, you pushed yourself up to your feet. “I’m fine. A little disgusted, but I’m fine.”

A smirk and knowing gleam flashed on Junmyeon’s face as he rose. “I’m sure mine was better.”

He was referring to the lip-smash he desperately pulled before he was to be dragged to the hangman’s noose. Not exactly the best first impression. 

You snorted. “No. I wouldn’t say that.” His jaw went slack. Sehun and Baekhyun snickered behind him. “Did you find the professor?” you asked in order to change the subject. 

“Yeah. He stayed out in the sun for a little long by the time we found him.”

“What are you-” Oh. Oh. That was why Imhotep was so far along in his regeneration. He’d found another victim to suck dry. 

“And he has the Book of the Dead,” Sehun added. “According to Beni, that’s what he’s going to use to raise Anacsunmum.”

“Anck-Su-Namun,” you corrected. 

“Yeah, her.”

You rolled your eyes. Why did you even bother?

You started pacing the room, trying to figure out what would be the best next move. You couldn’t keep playing hide and seek with the cat for all eternity. There needed to be a way to end this. Before he read from the book and raised-

The book… 

The book! 

You whirled back to the others. “I have an idea!”

“Care to share?”

“The Black book has always been rumored among scholars to be able to bring people back from the dead. Something I had always thought was nonsense,” you added to yourself. “But since that part is true, that means other rumors must be as well. Such as the Gold Book being able to send a soul back to the afterlife.”

“A balance.” Baekhyun looked awfully proud of himself. At least something finally stuck. 

“Exactly. Now all we have to do is find out where it's hidden.”

Junmyeon frowned. “But I thought it was supposed to be hidden with Anubis?”

“Exactly,” you agreed. “It comes from a translation of an ancient text. A stone that’s at the museum here, actually. It also says where the Black book was supposed to be hidden. I think they got their translations mixed up. So, where the scholars who originally translated it said that the golden Book of Amun-Ra was in the statue of Anubis, it's actually wherever they said the black Book of the Dead was supposed to be.”

“And where is that?”

You swallowed. “I don’t remember. We’ll have to go to the museum so I can read it again.”

Letting out a heavy sigh, Junmyeon checked the barrels of his guns, reloaded the revolvers with bullets from his belt. “Then I guess we’re headed back to the museum. Hopefully we don’t run into Ugly Face before we get to the rock.”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” you said with the utmost confidence. 

Sehun, who did not share that sentiment, looked up towards the ceiling. “Oh joy. Another book hunt.”

[one-boring-person]

Too Bad, Sweetheart. (Part One)

The Expendables x reader

Warnings: swearing, death, gun use, injury, alcohol consumption

Context: after an incident on a job, the reader is "let go" from the team, only for them to realise they want them back.

A/n: I hope this isn't as bad as I think it is 😅

This reached the "long post" limit thing, so I'm uploading it in two parts

Masterlist

After having spent years in a profession where I often have people trying to kill me in my own home, my mind has easily become attuned to when something is wrong, and right now, something is definitely off. Standing before the door of my dingy apartment, I feel a frown crease my brow as I look over the battered door, my hand instinctively moving to the small of my back, where my pistol is tucked into my jeans, as it always is, the other hand going to take hold of the door handle. I pause where I am, uncaring of how stupid I must look, listening closely to the area around me, tuning out all external sounds except the telltale ones of some person coming towards me. 

There's nothing, only heavy silence.

Not quite trusting the thick quiet, I try the handle, only half surprised when it's unlocked, the door cracking open with a soft noise. Cursing internally, I push it open completely, making sure no one is stood behind it as I wait just before the threshold in case there's someone on the other side. Nothing happens, so I step inside, drawing my gun and holding it by my side, cocking it with one hand.

Swinging the door closed behind me, I stand in the darkness for a moment, allowing my eyes to swiftly adjust, sweeping the room as I do so, easily locating the intruder. A figure is sat, facing away from me, on my worn old couch, the silhouette easily recognisable to me, even from the little I can see. Instantly, I feel the low burn of anger bite at the back of my throat, my face falling into a state of blankness as I make my way over to him, having made sure the rest of the room is safe, my steps slow and soft, though I know he is aware of my presence. To my surprise, however, he doesn't move. Not even when I press the cold muzzle of the gun up against his skull.

"Get out." I order him, keeping my voice level and cold as I hold the gun to his head.

"And "hello" to you, too." The familiar voice snarks back at me, his British accent as thick as the last time I heard it.

"I'm not gonna ask again." I ignore his greeting, pushing lightly with the gun until his head tips forwards slightly.

Slowly, the man stands, turning to face me, my gun pointed directly at his forehead as he trains scrutinizing eyes on me.

"You ain't looking so good, (Y/n). Out of work?" He questions, reaching over to flick on the desk light on the coffee table, casting us both in a warm light. Lee's features seem softer like this, though there's a harshness behind his eyes.

At his comment, I feel a poisonous scowl etch itself onto my face, my anger flaring up now. My grip on the gun tightens.

"Get out." I repeat, my voice strained now as I hold back my seething fury.

"Or what? You'll shoot me?" He scoffs, stepping away from my gun and going over to the wall, turning on the main light.

"That's generally what a gun is used for." I reply, keeping the weapon trained on him.

Lee shrugs, leaning against the wall.

"In my experience, it's always more of a scare-tactic." The mercenary remarks, before he gestures to the room around us, "This is a bit of a downgrade."

Again, I feel myself start to seethe, my muscles going tight, his comments starting to rile me up.

"Get. The fuck. Out." I snap, nodding to the door, clenching my jaw tightly.

"Easy, it was just an observation." Lee furrows his brow, "We need to talk."

"Like hell we do." I scoff, scowling harder.

"Yeah, we do actually."

"What makes you think I want to talk?" I practically snarl, fed up with his pestering.

"Not much, doesn't mean we're not gonna." He shrugs again, a smirk playing briefly at the corners of his mouth, "We need you back on the team."

Silence settles on us. A look of disbelief crosses my face, followed by outrage, then anger, before settling on cynical amusement. I can't stop the sharp, dry laugh that escapes me.

"Do you, now?" I roll my eyes, trying to suppress the rolling anger in my gut.

"Yeah, we've got a job that we're gonna need your expertise on. We thought about others, but Barney insisted it was you. I know you left and all-" He starts, watching me hopefully, only for me to interrupt him.

"Hold on, I left? Last I checked, you assholes fired me." I growl, unbelievably angry now.

"Err, well, yeah, but we made a mistake. We need you back, (Y/n), we've gotta do this, and we need you to help. Barney wants to take you on again. He regrets letting you go, and so do the rest of us. We miss you, (Y/n). Please come back." Lee nearly pleads with me, stepping forwards.

"Give me a break, Christmas. What makes you think I want to go with you? After what you all did to me?" I bite back, gesturing around myself, "You think you can break into my "downgraded" apartment, tell me I look like shit and ask if I'm "out of work" after everything that happened? Jesus, Christmas, did you guys get gassed or something?"

He's speechless. Blinking, he stares at me, fumbling for words.

"Sure, at one time, that might have been banter. Maybe we'd have joked about it, and we'd have teased each other. But now?" I laugh wryly, "Not in your wildest dreams, Christmas."

Again he struggles to find words, an occurrence I remember being scarce, the Brit always having something to say.

"Now, get the hell out of my apartment before I shoot. And no, I won't hesitate." I order him, nodding to the door again.

With a sigh, Lee casts me one last look, before he goes to the door and steps out, clearly defeated.

*

Gunfire pelts the air around me, my own gun spitting back at my attackers as I peek out from behind the fallen crate, my ears ringing from the barrage of sound. A wound at my hip bleeds profusely, a bullet somehow having managed to get past my body armour and to skin, leaving me with an injury that'll most likely scar.  At this moment, I don't care, my attention focused on the targets across the room, adrenaline making it impossible to feel too much pain in any case, allowing me to take out the enemies with relative ease. To my left, I can hear Toll and Caesar shouting at each other, the latter bringing out one of his heavier guns as they chase a unit of soldiers only a nearby hallway, leaving me alone in the room with the other killers.

Gritting my teeth, I feel the clip come to an end, meaning I have to drop back behind cover and reload, swiftly unfastening the magazine. Throwing it aside, I go to take up a new one, only to realise I'm totally out, leaving me with my pistol and a couple of knives. I swing the rifle onto my back, taking out my pistol and cocking it, before I lean back out of safety, shooting a couple of shots.

All of them hit, leaving me in an empty room, my breathing hard and ragged as I try to recover. Leaning back against the crate, I nearly have time to catch my breath again before the gunfire starts again. 

This time, it's only from one gun, a handheld pistol of sorts, probably like mine, the owner not shooting at anything in particular. Frowning, I glance around, my eyes widening as I see who it is.

It's our target, Pierce Fenwick, the rogue mercenary stepping into the centre of the room with a smirk, his eyes on mine. Confused, I raise my gun, ready to shoot if he does, painfully aware of my orders to keep him alive. They'd stressed this: keep the target alive, he's needed for questioning. I had no problem with this, but I'm still wary of him.

The final shot ricochets off of the walls, leaving the room in silence again, the report ringing out around the space. 

"I know you're there. You might as well come out." Fenwick calls out, his smirk evident in his voice, "I'm not gonna shoot."

Not quite believing him, I wait a couple of minutes, unsure of what to do.

"Come on, I know you need me, so I'll go quietly." He tries again, his conviction finally persuading me to hesitantly stand and face him.

"Ah, there you are." He grins mockingly, "Here to get me?"

Staying quiet, I edge forwards, my gun aimed at his head.

"Too bad, sweetheart. I don't intend on going anywhere. At least not in this life." With that, he lifts his own gun, pressing it against his forehead. 

I have time to widen my eyes before the gunshot tears through the quiet, leaving me standing in front of a collapsing body.

Instantly, horror fills me, dread and despair flooding my being as I step forwards, only to hear a pair of sharp intakes of breath behind me. Spinning on my heel, I see Barney and Lee standing there, Toll, Caesar and Gunnar quickly joining them. All of them carry shocked faces.

"What the fuck have you done?!" Barney finally manages, his tone low and laced with fury.

Confused, I glance between them and the body, only now realising what it looks like. Eyes widening, I turn back to them, raising my hands.

"I didn't shoot him! He shot himself!" I try to argue, but it's already too late.

The boys shoot me foul looks as they file past, heading to the body to see if there's any way of recovering him. Finding none, they turn to me, scowl in place.

"Nice one, (Y/n)." Gunnar growls, walking away.

"What? I didn't do anything!" I try to reply, only for the others to step past me, all except Barney, who stops before me.

"We're not blind, or stupid. You've just cost us the entire job, and that's a lot of money. We had specific orders to keep him alive, and you disobeyed them." Barney sighs, his expression furious, "We'll fly you back, but once you're there get your stuff from the hangar."

My mouth falls open as he leaves me there, not quite able to understand what just happened.

Part Two

[handy-is-still-anonymous]

"What..? What did you just call me?"

Adrian stared at the other, trying to process what was happening, but his eyes widened when the man took the helmet off. Oh my god...

"Oh come on, even after 16 years..."

Barney smiled softly at Adrian, his hazel eyes still glowed even in the small sewer light,

"Im not allowed to used that nickname?"

Adrian nearly knocked Barney over when he hugged him, laughing softly. "Oh my God, you're un-fucking-believable." Barney only smiled at that and hugged him back tightly. "I've missed you so much. Everything had been so hectic the past few month. Or well more hectic than usual. It doesn't help that I thought you were dead. I didn't think I had anyone left. I thought I would just die alone- that I wouldn't ever get to see you again- and I-"

"Barney," Adrian mumbled soothingly, rubbing the leader's back. "It's okay now." He mumbled, more saying it all to himself than Barney, but the small man still took it as comfort. "Good. I really need someone like you around."

"Well we can't stay around... here at least. Let me show you how this sewer system works." Adrian turned and started to lead the way, walking with the same confidence and strict, squared shoulders as he did when marching through black mesa. That gave a bit more comfor to Barney as he followed behind him.

"This tunnel right here will lead to a medic camp some people have made, it's not as slick as it used to be, so it's easier to run there without slippjng busting your head. The tunnel to our right, is the way well go to get a crossed 'the border'. There isn't really one now but it gets us to the other camps outside of the cities. Out there though. I can't help much. That's for the other team to explain to you. I'm just here to guide through the sewers." Adrian walked over to a ladder in the right tunnel, "If it makes you feel better though, this guy that's up here sells stollen goods like ammo and food. Even some water he's purified."

His face showed a serious frown whilst explaining everything, his hands move as if to help pronounce and explain the words. His body shivered though. It reminded both men how dangerous just being there was.

Barney, even though he was scared, didn't let that fear control him as much as he used to. He has people to save now. People to fight for. He needed to protect Alyx, and Eli. He'd protect Kleiner more if that stupid scientist didn't keep bringing headcrabs in as 'pets'.

This was serious shit. In America you would probably just get arrested, even if your record was fucked you could just steal and run forever. Now? You would be killed infront of everyone. Your dead body being shot to death would've been a message to those on your side that they could run and hide forever. That's why you had to train to pull your gun out faster, know your enemy better then they know themselves. Steal as much equipment as possible and make sure to keep your guard up, everywhere.

Yeah, you can probably guess Barney wasn't sleeping good at all. No one really was. Could you blame them in this sick twisted world of destruction and 'order'. Made Barney wanna gag more just thinking about it...somehow, Adrian looked younger, like he never aged a day since they last met. Focus Barney, focus. You ain't got time for romance.

They climbed up the ladder to the merchant up top. Adrian introduced him.

"This is Carlos Devina. He's probably the most important guy during this trip. Sometimes he'll not be here and sometimes he will be. His schedule changes. This week he'll be here today, tomorrow and the Friday. Next week he'll be here Monday, Thursday and Saturday. Week after that he'll be here Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday. Then the schedule will repeat."

"What's tomorrow again?"

"Tuesday, today is Monday."

"Got it. I need to write this down."

"Habit of being in the military, you just memorize the days. Used a copy of a calender before this shit started and went from there." Adrian chuckled softly and Carlos cleared his throat.

"I can give you a free copy of the calendar if you'd like, Mr. Calhoun. It marks the days ill be open so you won't have to write anything down."

"Yes, please I'll take 7."

Carlos went into the back doors of his shop. Adrian whistled to get Barney's attention. "So, resistance leader huh? Last time I checked you were bloody, limping and anxious. "

"Eh, I still am sometimes. I mean anxious and limping. I'm not always bloody." Barney grinned and Adrian nearly kissed him, but, unfortunately Carlos came back with 7 calenders, gently handing them to the resistance leader. "Here you go, Mr. Calhoun, anything else I can get you two?"

"That'll be all I think." Adrian said firmly and Carlos smirked. "Alright. Well, if you need me, just press the button as always. I'll be back here." And with that Carlos was gone again. Adrian mumbled something under his breath before asking. "I know you have an important role in this all, you don't usually get a break I'm sure, but... if you need me I'm always in the sewers."

Barney frowned, "I'll be meeting you in the sewers tomorrow, Adrian, and not for the reason you want. I'm gonna be bringing a lot of people and I need you and your team to be ready. I'm sorry but I... I guess I don't have much time anymore for romances and flirty games."

Games. Right. All this was, was a flirty game.

"I... understand. We'll be ready for you. I'll have Carlos cook extra meals. How many people will be here?" Adrian gulped down that stupid lump in his throat.

Barney, always clueless to other's emotions, didn't notice the change. "Just 3. I don't wanna get too suspicious." And with that, the meeting had ended. Barney left with one last goodbye and Adrian just felt stuck. He felt gross too, but he couldn't focus on that. It wasn't important. People's lives were at stake.

His. Feelings. Didn't. Matter.

Games.

Tag List:

@girzapata6

[kkeidawrites]

Castlevania spoilers!!!! If you don’t want to know how the show ends in season 4 please refrain from reading the rest of this post because I’m not holding back! Also I’m writing this as I watched so, this is my raw review!

Okay, so first off I want to say personally, I loved how season 4 brought heat to the finale of the show. Although I’m sad as hell that this is the last season for a great show.

Episode 1: Murder Wakes It Up- I thought that it was cool to see Trevor and Sypha fighting again after what happened in S3, obviously they are tired from the long four week journey of fighting night creatures, skeleton zombies, vampires from different countries, etc. but clearly the end game is that humans and vampires alike are working together to bring back Dracula. Like seriously, y’all might not know this but I hate, HATE when children become involved in stupid shit like human sacrifices like I can’t. Not the children. Please, not the babies. Sypha complaining she’s becoming like Trevor, and she’s so cute when she curses lol. Then when they arrive in Targoviste we have some new faces as potential enemies. I thought they were lame honestly lol I couldn’t take Barney-Larney whatever his dumbass was; he was mad annoying.

Then they shift over to Alucard…I have never seen a more broken beautiful drunk man in all my life. Like I had S3 flashbacks. He’s asked for help from a messenger who ended up dying on the way to the castle but his horse made sure he continued the journey and Alucard received the message for help in Danesti. Alucard fights with the horse, I thought that was funny. He was thoughtful enough to bury the rider, that was very sweet of him.

Also, shirtless Alucard will be engraved in my mind for life. Whew, chile that’s one fine man. He’s beginning to talk like Belmont and I can’t help how hilarious that is.

Episode 2: Having the World: Quite honestly this episode to me was meh. Hector talking with Lenore about how he needs this and that to create his hammer to continue forgemastering then Lenore talks with Carmilla and the white haired bat talks about how she is going to rule the world and what not, clearly losing her sanity.

Then it shifts over to Trevor and Sypha and they are fighting in a barn and new character Zamfir. Her character for me was also meh, but it’s nice to see more PoC in the show.

Episode 3: Walk Away: I liked this episode a lot. Issac altogether was nice enough to sit down and talk with a night creature and tell him/them that they were free of their original program, which was: eating humans, causing destruction, used as tools to forge masters. But man when he received that berry from Issac he realized that there is still some kind of humanity in them.

Issac is contacted by Varney to bring back Dracula but, Issac wants no business with that; he doing his own thing and seeing him being sassy again is so refreshing.

Morana and Striga scenes!!! I loved them, and then there was Striga’s day armor, man listen…I have never felt more closer to watching Berserk again than in that moment. They are hesitant to return back to Styria when Carmilla calls them, and it puts them in a bind to return home to continue through with Carmilla’s plans.

Sypha being annoyed by Zamfir was me the entire time. How you gone run a kingdom again with out a kingdom. Like girl, help the people instead of the royals, my god.

Episode 4: You Must Sacrifice: A cute little Trevor and Sypha scene. They decide to investigate Targoviste more before helping Zamfir. The scene shifts and Alucard is riding towards Danesti, donning a shield and a longer cape. Monsters are attacking the walls of the village, villagers are on the other side waiting to defend themselves. Some Castlevania popular screenshots appear here.

Then we meet Greta…Miss thang…that’s one beautiful woman okay. And she’s the chief of the village, cares for her people? Y’all I present. Her. And the fact that she is sassy too? I rock with her heavy as hell.

Saint Germain meets Alucard and I have a weird vibe coming from him. We see Saint Germain’s backstory or what little it will show us; he had a whole girlfriend, she a baddie too. Apparently she was like him? And she was the silhouette we saw in S3. Cool scene, inside the Infinite Corridor and I liked the library scene a lot too. Now he’s on a rampage trying to find access to the Infinite Corridor again to find his girl and he also wants to bring back Dracula? The fuck?

Refugees arrive at Danesti, and Saint Germain is acting very strange indeed. Like he’s desperate to go to the castle to help with the village “defenses”. Alucard agrees I guess? And he says another Belmont comment which I was happy to see again in the season.

Episode 5: Back in the World: Alucard leads Greta, Saint Germain and the villagers to his castle but, encounter a couple of night creatures on the way. Greta does Saint Germain y’all and I’m with her 100%. Alucard’s powers have definitely improved from last season. It was kind of interesting how Alucard willing told Greta what happened with him and you know who, kind of early in my opinion. Greta is bisexual?!!!! I love her 1000% now! I sense some chemistry between Greta and Alucard. I like that a lot.

Lenore really like annoys my soul, I do not like this mini bitch. I didn’t really care what Lenore and Hector talked about🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️sue me. Bruh Greta, beating that monster’s ass with just a hammer and a sword?! And Alucard impressed by it?! I’m here for it!! Some cute moments between Alucard and Greta got me gushing over here😝😝. Poor puppy😢😢. Alucard decides to “grow up” which I think is a nice step forward. Saint Germain is really making me mad.

They arrive at the castle and here goes Saint Germain acting like a fan boy, I mean who wouldn’t but you know…Greta killed me when she said the castle was ugly as hell lol. Another little cutesy scene between Alucard and Greta. Like I really like their chemistry y’all I’m sorry.

Trevor and Sypha demand that Zamfir take responsibility to help the people and I forgot what it was called but, before that they are attacked and Zamfir has something placed on her neck by a night creature.

Then Issac, he’s ready to fuck some shit up. And I’m here for it. Get em, bitch!

Episode 6: You Don’t Deserve My Blood: Carmilla’s castle is attacked by Issac’s night creatures. Lenore old punk ass running away does not surprise me in the slightest. Hector betrays Lenore and locks her in a cage. Hector has contact with Saint Germain like what? I don’t understand but, Issac comes in and it looks like Hector has given up, wanting to die honestly. Issac decides against killing him and Hector asks for his knife. This boy cuts his ring finger that the Lenore placed the ring, in front of her. That scene was meh, I thought he would get pissed at her for what she’s done to him in S3 but, I guess not.

Issac literally stole this episode, from his fight with the vampires and night creatures to Carmilla that shit was -chef’s kiss- magnifico! I loved the animation the fight scenes, yooo I was hyped the whole episode.

Morana and Striga make their decision to go their own way, living their own lives in the west so, bittersweet ending with them, I wanted to actually Striga fight the main trio but, whatever I guess.

Hector still has plans to bring back Dracula and asks Issac if he’s doing the same. Issac has other plans obviously, and tells Hector that they need to find their path in their lives. I feel Hector never knew where he was supposed to be placed in the world but Issacs words are very inspiring in my opinion. May have woke Hector’s dumbass up a bit.

Episode 7: The Great Work: Varney and the other guy, I really forgot his name found out about the catacombs and head there. Trevor and Sypha demand Zamfir take them underground, which to me I think it’s nothing there but her shit. Sypha gets mad at Zamfir and I’m with her, how you part of the royal guard when the people above need your help girl my god.

The cutest scene ever in this episode, was when the kids from Danesti wanting to play with Alucard and this boy jumps off the highest part of the castle just to show off. There should be more scenes of soft Alucard with children. Saint Germain is placing these weird stones it looks like in the castle walls. What is going on with him?

More Alucard and Greta moments please and thank you. The artwork in the castle is fucking phenomenal work. Saint Germain just gave the location to a vampire it looks like, from episode 4 maybe? He looks familiar.

There is a freaking army coming to the castle…lord Jesus. Like can they catch a break please? The kids just got settled.

Trevor and Sypha go to the catacombs and it’s just as bad as the people above grounds. New weapon acquired for Trevor, pretty dope. The king and Queen are dead and Zamfir is officially insane. She really thinks that the king and Queen will come back alive and protect their people like she’s done them. Sypha tries to talk to her, that puts her in a weird daze, Trevor is just being Trevor. Varney and his lackey, come to the catacombs looking to kill I really do not know that man’s name y’all so I apologize for not giving a damn about him lol.

The castle is about to be under siege, I’m not ready. Having a whole heart attack over here from nerves.

Episode 8: Death Magic: Varney and his partner attack the people in the catacombs, Varney is looking for a giant mirror? Why I don’t know. Poor Trevor and Sypha they are soooo tired, I feel so bad for them. Zamfir is actually not bad of a fighter, I like that. Sypha still the goat, no cap.

The castle is under attack, it’s actually nice to see how diverse the vampires are in this show, you can tell what countries their from and I think that’s dope as hell. And then every time a human dies their souls are transferred to Saint Germaine? So is this another S3 human sacrifice crap again? Omg…I’m so sick of that. Saint Germain uses the key he received from the woman in the Infinite Corridor and it creates the symbol of the corridor’s portal.

Here goes Alucard being a badass again, I never tire of him being one. Greta holding it down too is really cool, I don’t care what nobody say, she is that bitch. Her and that hammer, a force to be reckoned with.

Everyone is overwhelmed and have no choice but to evacuate to the castle, right before those doors closed Alucard nods to her to leave him out to fight and she looks at him like boy bye. Get yo ass in this castle. Greta pulling Alucard in just shows they are compatible for one another. Even the playful banter between them is cute.

The discovery of the stones in the walls leads Greta and Alucard to his childhood bedroom and they find Saint Germain where he reveals he’s opening the Infinite Corridor to bring back Dracula by using death magic. Petty Saint Germain, I do not like him bro.

They have to deal with him later though to fight off the night creatures that got into the castle. Greta still holding it down.

Trevor and the vampire guy is still fighting but, Trevor being so tired he’s slowing a bit, and honestly I don’t know how he’s still able to function at this point. Sypha shows off her powers like a G that she is and Zamfir is doing some great damage with the knives she’s got and that’s crazy how little knives can do to the body.

Did Sypha always have lightning powers? I don’t remember. If it’s new I love it! Trevor’s almost killed but a woman and child save him in time but, unfortunately Zamfir is stabbed in the stomach when the vampire moves to kill them both. I’m going to be honest I didn’t really care for Zamfir’s character she was just…there lol.

Then that scene with Sypha basically incinerating the rest of the monsters is fire!!! No pun intended lol. Varney finds the mirror and steps through it where Saint Germain is. Trevor and Sypha goes through the mirror as well but in a different location in the castle.

Episode 9: The Endings: This whole episode was literally the best of the best in any other seasons. The fight scenes, the banter, the main three���oh my God I loved it all. Noooooo, the dolls!!!!!! You bastards!!!! Trevor and Sypha’s entrance was perfect. Muah! Perfecto! The rock monsters really confused me on how they were killed but you know what who cares?

Alucard has wings?!!!!! What?!!!!!!!!! The general of the caravan have brought in the man woman thingy to Saint Germain. Death has appeared. His character design is dope af. Noooo not mom and dad!!! Nooo! Poor Alucard had to witness his parents literally in pain and of course Trevor ends it again, somehow Saint Germain redeemed himself almost?

The four vampires fighting the main trio had me running for my money. I liked the whole scene it was nice to see at least one or two vampires almost have the upper hand on the main trio.

That general vampire? His fight was wild, throwing his arm as it was about to explode and use it against Trevor was genius. And main trio…they don’t need to have a plan to fight they just work so well together that it works out in end.

Trevor vs. Death. Also was that the first time Trevor told Sypha he loved her? I can’t remember. Anyway, back to the final battle. The quality of the fight, the sheer power between both characters, and then he goes and sacrificed himself like Trevor are you deadass? You deadass died? Unacceptable. And then episode just ends.

Episode 10: It’s Been a Strange Ride: Lenore died so lame, and she was drunk as well when she died. I really won’t be missing her because she was just a character I very much disliked. Hector is finally free, little dumbass.

I wanna see what Issac is up to and Morana and Striga seems appropriate. But oh well, I hope they are happy wherever they are.

Tombstone for Trevor, it’s not real. He ain’t dead, I don’t believe that. Omg, Greta and Alucard are together?!!! Whoooooo!!! And the village kids are calling him father? Yasssssssssssss!!!!! I’m here for it. Alucard saying he’s not used to people is 100% me in public I don’t like being around a lot of people and it doesn’t help I have anxiety either. Sypha being pregnant was a given she looked a little thicker in the hips from episode one. She can’t leave…we need her. Really Castlevania creators? Y’all gone play with all our hearts? Thinking Trevor was dead and he gone pop up on a horse?

And look at this⤵️⤵️

He’s smiling, happy, soft, has a boo thang I’m….😭😭😭I’m so happy.

Y’all….all in all this was a great ending to the show…a great ending…

Oh wait…wait…wait wait wait, mom and dad are alive?!!! But how? You know what I don’t care their going to travel to England and their heart shaped embrace is everything. Oh no I’m crying again….

[daymansbingerecapsandrankings]

(Originally written on October 8, 2020)

🎵Bang, Bang Bangedy Bang

I said a Bang Bang Bangedy Bang🎵

My How I Met Your Mother Thoughts

I just spent the last nine seasons in New York with the gang that spends all their time in MacLaren’s Pub. SELF FIVE! I have to say, this binge of How I Met Your Mother brought me so much happiness. I started watching this show for the first time back in high school, and I ended up watching the last six seasons as they aired. I remember loving this group of characters, and now I am reminded why. There’s so much chemistry between the five, and it makes for one of my favorite Comedies/Sitcoms of all time. If you’ve read any of my previous Show Thoughts, then you know I’ve been watching several over the course of this lovely Pandemic That Will Just Keep Going. After this rewatch, I’ve decided HIMYM is my third favorite Comedy/Sitcom, right after Boy Meets World and Scrubs.

Now, I know that the Finale is infamous. It’s in the Mount Rushmore of Terrible Endings, and people end up getting a sour taste in their mouth when they bring up the show. Well, it’s been some years. There’s been time to reflect and look back. And, while I’m not in favor of the Finale, I also don’t hate it anymore with the passion of a thousand suns. I just loved watching and growing with the gang, seeing them experience their highs and their lows, their triumphs and their failures. It just hits harder as an adult, like most of these shows assuredly do, and I cherish so many of these episodes and moments.

And now, my rankings for the seasons!

Seasons Rankings

1. Season One

2. Season Four

3. Season Two

4. Season Six

5. Season Eight

6. Season Five

7. Season Three

8. Season Seven

9. Season Nine

My rankings for the girlfriends, purely on how much I like them as a character

The Girlfriends Rankings

1. Robin

2. Tracy

3. Victoria

4. Zoey

5. Stella

6. Jeannette

And now, a ranking of my favorite episodes. From 1-50, these are the ones that stand out above the rest. I consider every single one of these enjoyable.

Favorite Episodes

1. Slap Bet (S2E9)

2. Come On (S1E22)

3. The Limo (S1E11)

4. The Best Burger in New York (S4E2)

5. Ten Sessions (S3E13)

6. The Pineapple Incident (S1E10)

7. Bachelor Party (S2E19)

8. Game Night (S1E15)

9. Oh, Honey (S6E15)

10. Glitter (S6E9)

11. The Duel (S1E8)

12. The Pilot (S1E1)

13. Arriverdverci, Fierro (S2E17)

14. The Over-Correction (S8E10)

15. How Your Mother Met Me (S916)

16. Intervention (S4E4)

17. The Magician’s Code, Part II (S7E24)

18. The Autumn of Break-Ups (S8E5)

19. The Ducky Tie (S7E3)

20. The Best Man (S7E1)

21. The Leap (S4E24)

22. Blitzgiving (S6E10)

23. Three Days of Snow (S4E13)

24. The Scorpion & The Toad (S2E2)

25. Bass Player Wanted (S9E13)

26. The Final Page, Part 2 (S8E12)

27. Duel Citizenship (S5E5)

28. Happily Ever After (S4E6)

29. Farhampton (S8E1)

30. Bro Mitzvah (S8E22)

31. Robin 101 (S5E3)

32. The Magician’s Code, Part I (S7E23)

33. Last Words (S6E14)

34. The Playbook (S5E8)

35. The Time Travelers (S8E20)

36. Splitsville (S8E6)

37. Subway Wars (S6E4)

38. Showdown (S2E20)

39. Drumroll, Please (S1E13)

40. Front Porch (S4E17)

41. Twin Bed (S5E21)

42. Who Wants to be a Godparent? (S8E4)

43. Girls vs. Suits (S5E12)

44. Something Borrowed (S2E21)

45. As Fast As She Can (S4E23)

46. The Wedding Bride (S5E23)

47. The Bracket (S3E14)

48. The Sexless Innkeeper (S5E4)

49. Third Wheel (S3E3)

50. Spoiler Alert (S3E8)

And now, just some thoughts on the show and on the gang!

Ted - I know people don’t like Ted. I don’t actually like Ted all that much. And yet, I found myself rooting for Ted just like I did the first go around. He’s not the worst person in the world, and I would be scared to see half of the decisions we’ve made in the dating game stringed together into a TV show. I know people wouldn’t like me very much for those decisions. Then again, I also don’t get super crazy about details about buildings, I don’t pronounce encyclopedia that way, and he tends to stick his foot in his mouth with this White Man confidence that I just don’t have. With all that being said, I still find Ted being a great friend, a man who is just trying to find the love of his life, and someone who really drives this story with great tales and narration (Bob Saget is the Sixth Man of the Show for just always bringing it). I think Ted does stupid things and he pretty much admits it after the fact. He learns, sometimes, and also doesn’t much like most of us. When he finally found the Mother, when he finally found Tracy, I cared. I cared so much, and I still do. Even though they just shit on her character and don’t give us enough time with her, I almost wonder if that’s a metaphor for the fact that you won’t always have enough time with your loved ones.

Robin - Let’s go to the mall! Yeah! Robin Sparkles is a Canadian Treasure, and so is Robin Scherbatsky. She is one of the best things about this show, and I love her so. Played by Cobie Smulders who I need to see in more stuff, Robin is who we all wanted Ted to maybe be with first. Then we go through all the loops of the HIMYM roller coaster, and a lot of us still wanted them to be together. I was one of them. Yet, she was more than just a romantic plot line for Ted. She was a part of the group who we got to see join it and evolve into a member of their family organically. Robin is fun, loud, full of fun quirks that we get to learn over the course of the series. I was heartbroken when we found out she can’t have children. I was loving the back and forth between her and Barney (the first time), and kind of mad at Barney about being such a crazy ass prankster the second time. Robin shows us just how amazing some gun loving, hockey obsessed Canadian news anchor can be, and how much she cares for her friends.

Lily - Justice Aldrin ends up being one of my favorite characters, even if that gets some curious looks. Yeah, she left Marshall for a summer. Yeah, she had some hesitancy with the marriage and everything. That happens. Lily was also always there for her friends, even if she ends up going a little overboard. She wants Ted to find happiness, and does whatever she can to help. She is there to listen to Robin at all times, and her and Marshall are easily one of the best relationships in TV I’ve ever witnessed. Then we have Lily and Barney which is honestly super underrated. Barney trusts Lily, even though she can’t keep a secret, with all of his emotional problems. Lily is who thought Barney could change before anyone else, and I love seeing their friendship grow from eye rolls to eye tears.

Barney - Oh, Barney. He honestly brings so much annoyance and fun to the show. He’s the friend of the gang who everyone tolerates. He’s the one in the gang who everyone ends up loving just as much as everyone else. Barney shows such a terrible face to the world, sleeping with over 250 women and lying to most of them. He has all these rules that aren’t very ethical. He gives us most of the Misogynism in this show, which is definitely prevalent and makes the show not as strong as it was in the first watch. Still, we get to see Barney grow into someone who wants real love and a happy life. Sure, they show us that his marriage to Robin only lasts three years, but at least they tried. Barney just couldn’t make it work, and that’s honestly who Barney really is. A person who just enjoys sleeping with different people. I was very warmed to see the baby reveal and that Barney becoming a dad was what would change him more than anything. Barney is an underrated friend, and his importance to the gang is legendary.

Marshall - I. Love. Big Fudge. He’s just so fun, caring, goofy, loyal, and everything that I aspire to be in life. For some reason, when watching the show the first time, I related to Ted the most. I was definitely a bit more selfish then. But now, I see that I am a Marshall. He wants to do good in the world, and it drives him so much. He only loves Lily, and his loyalty to their relationship is just Goals. He is also the most fun to watch having a crisis. He gets the big eyes and covers his mouth and just gets obviously super uncomfortable. Some of my favorite moments of the show are also Marshall’s talks with Ted about his feelings for Robin. Any one-on-ones with Marshall and someone else are probably my favorite moments. And yes, I will always root for him over those damn machines!

Last Thoughts:

Sure, the writing wasn’t as sharp or as witty in the later seasons, but I loved the story lines and seeing the gang just live.

Tracy was an amazing character as The Mother, and I truly wonder what could have been if they had given us two full seasons of story with her instead of any episodes of Jeannette.

I really can’t believe Ted told his kids all those stories. A fun premise for a show, but really, not very realistic telling them all that jazz.

Ranjit and Carl are such fun recurring characters that I always enjoyed seeing every time they popped up.

Out of all the recurring jokes and gags, which there are many (y’all said Community has so many, but HIMYM really swings for it), I love the Major/General salute joke. Idk if I just didn’t care for it the first time around or forgot about it, but I just love how silly it is and how they kept it through to the very last episode.

Watching the gang sit at their table in MacLaren’s just hanging out will always make me smile.

[xfandomwritingsx]

A Diamond Tint - Lee Christmas - Part One

-gif source-

Description: Learning Christmas is engaged was not part of your evening plans.

Warnings/Labels: None really

Approx. Word Count: 1,800

A/N:  So this is something I've kept hidden away for quite a while. I'm throwing this first part out here to see if there's any interest.

-

You hear his motorcycle from a few streets away, the familiar rev bringing a smile to your face. You finish tying your hair back and shimmy into your jeans, leaving your t-shirt untucked. You’d only arrived a few hours earlier, this being your first chance it change into some relaxing clothes for the evening. You’re looking forward to the night, always happy to be back with the guys, just drinking and shooting the shit. There’s not much else that feels straight-up like home.

You wait until you can hear the garage door opening and his motorcycle pulling in before you make your way back to everyone. You pause at the top of the stairs, looking over the railing for him. He’s already pulled his helmet off and swung his leg over his bike, walking to approach the guys.

“I thought I heard Christmas was coming early this year,” you called to him. He looks around for a moment, surprised by the sound of your voice. When his eyes land on you at the top of your stairs, there’s a smile on his face. You start to descend, letting your hand slide along the rail as you keep your eyes on him.

“Darling, every woman knows I never come early.” The innuendo in his voice is clear and brings a wide smile on your face while the rest of the guys holler or whistle in response. They’re no stranger to your flirting. Hell, you’ve been doing it for years. Barney, however, still cringes.

“Hey now,” he scolds. “Still my daughter, yeah?” You roll your eyes at him, but Lee doesn’t even turn to acknowledge he said anything. Barney just takes another drink from his beer with an annoyed look on his face.

“It’s good to see you, Christmas,” you tell him in a more conversational tone. You come up to him and throw your arms around his neck.

“You too, slugger.” He returns your hug and the woodsy smell of his aftershave fills you senses. Another familiar sensation of home. The leather of his jacket is chilled from the ride over, but you can feel the heat of him seep through when the hug lasts a little longer than it should. “What are you doing here?” he asks when you finally break apart. You motion over to Barney as you step away.

“Pops needs my help,” you explain.

“Hold on a minute,” he chimes in, holding up his hand. “Who came to who?” You cock your hip out and smile playfully at your father.

“I brought you a target and told you that you’d need my help if you went after him. And you are. So you need me.” This time it’s his turn to roll your eyes, knowing better than to try to argue with you. He raised one hell of a smart and stubborn ass woman. It has both its benefits and downsides. You turn your attention back to Lee with a tilt of your head. “Ready for a drink?” He gives a nod.

“Always.”

The first part of the night passes easily just like it has every time you remember. You’ve been around these men since you were a teenager and officially got into the business, popping in and out on jobs in your twenties. These nights are a lot of alcohol and a lot of casual bullshitting. Knives get thrown. Trash talk gets spewed. And occasionally there’s some light to heavy flirting between you and Christmas.

You grew up with a crush on him. Everyone knew it because as a typical young girl, you didn’t exactly hide it well. He was always polite about it, never harshly shooting you down, but also never leading you on. And then you weren’t around for a couple of years. You’d gone out on your own, training and doing some solo jobs to prove yourself to your father, who still tried to push you away from this life. When you came back, you came back a different person; matured with some blood on your hands. And suddenly he wasn’t looking at you the same as he did before.

You bonded easily, quickly. Instead of refusing your requests to teach you to throw knives, now he’d offer without prompting. You stayed up late a lot of nights just talking. You gelled together during jobs. You were friends as much as you were family. The flirting just followed naturally with your personalities.

Everyone believes it’s a harmless habit and doesn’t bat an eye at it, except Barney once in a while, but that’s mostly out of obligation. For the most part, they’re right. Nothing’s ever happened between you and you never suspect it will, but for you, at least, there’s still that deep rooted desire for it to come to fruition. There are some nights where you think that just maybe, he does too. Like when you’re alone and he drops the too-kid-like nickname of Slugger in favor of the slightly-inappropriate Babygirl.

Tonight though, the subtle winks across the room and blatant smiles back and forth are interrupted by the mention of Lacy, whom he’s apparently still seeing. You choke down the beer you’d been swallowing and wave a hand to stop the conversation from moving on as you take your propped up foot off the table you’re perched on.

“Hold on! You’re still with that woman?” you ask in disbelief.

“Yeah.” You can hear the slight defensiveness coming out. “So what?”

“God, Christmas! Why?” It’s hard to keep your disgust from your voice and the little smiles at the ground from the rest of the team don’t escape you. “She’s one of those girls that just thinks it’s cool to have a bad boy boyfriend.” You cringe at just the thought of her and take another swig of your beer.

“Fiancé,” he corrects just a hair quieter than before.

“Shit!” Is he kidding? “You’re really going to marry her?” There’s a pit in your stomach now and your disbelieved smile starts to fade, the humor bleeding away.

“That’s the plan,” he confirms. You chew your bottom lip and look away, unsure what else to say. You’re still trying to process the very idea of him marrying that woman if you’re honest. “What’s with the look?” he asks pointedly. “The hell’s your problem?” You take a second and simply shrug.

“Look, you’re family just like the rest of these upstanding gentlemen.” You wave your hand holding your beer out to room. A couple of them chuckle and raise their own drinks to you. “I don’t like when family’s being stupid and you? You’re acting pretty fucking stupid right now.” You hop off the table and chug the rest of your beer, ignoring the way his face scrunches up. “Anyone else need a refill?” The question works to break the tense silence and move the conversation elsewhere.

His eyes still watch you and there’s an uncomfortable tension that replaces the light, friendly feel you normally have. You try to ignore it, but at the end of the night when the music’s died down and you’re gathering glasses and bottles into the kitchen sink, he comes up behind you.

“What’s wrong with Lacy?” You sigh heavily, but don’t turn around to face him. You think about it for a few moments, trying to find the words you want. Once you’ve gathered your thoughts, you spin on your heels and place your hands on the counter now behind you.

“Does she even know you?” you ask softly. You’re trying really hard not to sound aggressive or accusatory, which is hard to do after consuming alcohol.

“Of course she does!” he scoffs and throws his head back. His defensive reaction irritates you.

“Yeah? Does she know your kill rate?” That seems to stop him and the answer is clear on his face. You continue before he can refute you. “She ever see you after a mission gone wrong? Patch you up?” You suspect the answer to that is also no because he’s been known to show up at the door of your apartment regularly to have you help patch him. “She ever see your face after you got the shit beat out of you in Slovakia or did you hide that from her?” His face is stiffening, his jaw starting to grind, but you’re not done. “She know that your left ankle pops all the damn time because you broke it being a show off and jumping off a waterfall in the jungle in your twenties?” You point down to the offending appendage and he tries to resist the urge to roll it. You pause as he soaks in your words and when he doesn’t come back at you, you try again a little softer. “You want a partner in life but she can’t be that when she doesn’t know you. She seriously believes her badass boyfriend-”

“Fiancé,” he corrects and you roll your eyes.

“Whatever. She thinks you just go on exotic trips and punch bad guys.”

“Sometimes I do that.” It’s hard not to laugh at him being a smartass, but you manage.

“Don’t be an idiot,” you tell him, the words half a plea as much as a demand. You don’t want him to make a mistake and you can feel it in your gut that she would be. “Do you know what she does when you’re gone for months at a time?” His face snaps back to the angry, defensive and points a finger at you.

“She’s not cheating on me.” It sounds harsh, demanding, like he’s telling himself, reminding him as much as he is trying to convince you.

“Bullshit,” you spit. “Pops has said it, now I’m gonna say it. It’s in her blood.” Why can’t he see this? All the signs are there in his face and instead he buries his head in the sand and buys a damn diamond ring. “You ever come home early and she ain’t there?” He looks away from you and the look in his eyes answers the question, just like it always does. “Never wondered where she was?” you press gently.

“Ya know,” he breathes heavily before turning his head back to you. “You shouldn’t be such a bitch just because you got a little crush on me.” There’s not nearly as much bite and malice in his tone as there are his words. You throw your head back and scoff at him anyways.

“Do you really want to stop and examine who checks who out when I’m in town?” He tries to hide a smile, but it cracks through and he tilts his head with a shrug, not really having a defense for that. It allows both of you to slip back into a less prickly atmosphere. “Look,” you start again. “I’m not trying to be a bitch.” You reach forward and grab his arm, curling your fingers around his bicep and squeezing gently. “I just care about you and this girl is nothing but trouble.” He rolls his eyes away from you, but doesn’t move away from your grip. “Everyone knows it, I’m just the one saying it.” You can tell the conversation is over when he doesn’t offer a response and doesn’t turn his eyes back to you. So you give his arm a pat and go to leave.

[cherrytdatt]

Sadness Ritual

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Word count: ~3.5k

Summary: that same old best friends falling in love concept we all know and love.

A/N: so this is the first fic i decided to post in here and it is just angst, i’m sorry. i don’t think this has any physical description or gender description.

Yep. You did it again. You stalked him and saw what you didn't want to. And now you were about to cry while drunk in wine, listening to Cigarettes After Sex. But you couldn't help. You needed to know. You needed to see with your own eyes.

"It's okay. Everything is okay," you said to yourself clicking to see the next paparazzi picture. "I'm gonna be okay," you were smiling, almost laughing at your stupidity. You really thought that Tom, your best friend, your childhood friend, could fall in love with you. You were laughing at how much of an idiot you felt.

Your phone rang for the tenth time but you didn't care to see who was calling or texting. Whatever. You drank another sip of wine, going to the next picture. "Fuck" you mumbled. Of course, she is beautiful. He's a movie star. He would never go out with someone who doesn't look like a fucking model.

'Pick up your damn phone or I'm going to broke into your damn house!!!!' it was your best friend, Anna. Your female best friend. Because your male best friend must’ve be on some date he didn't tell you about with a girl who looks like a model 24/7.

'What do you want?' you texted her back, trying to sound normal so she wouldn't break into your house and force you to go out to forget about this damn crush you had on your best friend who was now dating.

'Are you okay?' she said and you knew she knew. You knew she knew about the pics, about your crush and about how you were probably drunk and crying right now.

'Sure. Why wouldn't I be?' you faked.

'Haz told me. I'm sorry,' you could see the pity look in her face typing that while she cuddled with Tom's male best friend, Harrison.

'Told you what? I don't know what you're talking about,' you lied.

'I'm your best friend. You don't need to lie to me,' you couldn't talk to her anymore. It was making you sick.

'I need to go now. I'm seeing a movie and I'm already lost because I'm talking to you,' you lied again and turned your phone off. You really couldn't handle anyone right now.

"Fuck!" you rolled your eyes looking at another pic. They were holding hands. You thought about all the times he refused to go out with you because someone could take a picture and that would be awful. God forbid anyone thinking you two were dating. You laugh, a humorless laugh thinking about the time he asked a fan not to tell anyone he was eating McDonald's at 3 a.m. just with you after you two binge watched 'The Office' for 5 hours non-stop.

Three loud bangs at your door made you jump and almost drop the glass of wine you were pouring yourself.

"Why can't people leave me the fuck alone?" you asked yourself placing the glass on the table and going to the door already knowing you wouldn't open up not even for Jesus. You looked at the peephole and if you wouldn't open for Jesus, the person standing outside wouldn't have a chance of seeing your face. "Fuck," you mouthed trying to make no sound so the person would go away.

"I know you're in there. Let me in," he said with a serious voice. You tried to stay still to see if he was bluffing. "I can see your shadow moving under the door," you looked at your feet checking if he could really see your shadow and your drunk brain got to the conclusion that yes, he could see you.

You rolled your eyes thinking about a good excuse. "I'm not feeling so good. I talk to you later. O-or text you." you lied.

"Please. I know you're lying. Your second best friend told me you were upset," he said the last part with a joking tone.

"Yeah... well, I'm upset cause I'm feeling sick," you said leaning against the door.

"You can't lie to me. I'm hearing that awful band you listen to whenever you're sad... and by your voice, I can tell you are drinking wine. No one who is feeling sick drinks wine," he said and you could hear the laugh in his voice. You really couldn't see him right now. You were too sad and you knew he wanted to know why and there was no way in hell you were gonna tell him the real reason.

"Please, Tom... just leave me alone. We can talk tomorrow," you whined hiding your face in your hands.

"No way. I'm your best friend. I'm here to take care of you and I'm not gonna leave until you let me in," he said and his voice was concerned now. "I'm gonna spend the entire night on the floor and all your neighbors will talk about how you let a cute movie star spend the night on the floor and you will be a villain and they will hate you forever," he joked and you heard him shuffling on the other side of the door. You looked for the peephole again and saw him sitting on the floor just like he said he would do.

"You're so idiot," you said almost too low, but he heard it.

"But you love me," you saw his smile saying this and your heart was happy and hurt at the same time.

You moved away from the door, closing your computer and turning down the music you knew he hated. You heard him shuffling again. "I know you gonna let me in cause you turned off that awful music," he laughed.

"I didn't turn it off, I just turned down," you said holding the doorknob.

"By the way, why do you listen to such depressive music..." he started "...when you're sad?" he finished with a breathe when you opened the door.

"Do you want me to listen to a Barney song?" you quipped.

"First of all, tell me why you are sad?" he asked hugging you.

"No specific reason," you said trying your best not to melt into the hug.

"Why are you so difficult sometimes?" he let you go, invading your apartment.

"I'm not difficult," you protested.

"Sure," he sat on your couch and drank the wine from your glass. "And this awful cheap wine," he whined making a face and putting the glass on the table again.

"Are you here to criticize me? Cause I didn't ask you to come," you said a little more bitter than you needed.

"I'm joking, okay?" he said putting his hands in the air in defense.

"Okay," you mumble sitting by his side. "I thought you were out with friends today?" you started sitting by his side and trying to make him tell you about the damn girl you saw him with a few minutes ago.

"Who told you that?" he asked confused looking at you.

"Anna," you lied.

"Yeah... she was wrong," he said turning his eyes to the TV who was still playing some Cigarettes After Sex sad song.

"I thought so... since you were out yesterday," you said knowing, because of the pics, that he went out the night before.

"How do you know that?" he asked not looking at you.

"Anna?" you said but it was more like a question. He hummed neither denying nor confirming it. "Did you had fun?" you asked picking up your glass from the table and drinking almost the entire content, preparing yourself for his answer.

"It could've been better if you were there," he said fidgeting.

"Well, if you had asked me I could've been there," you said in an annoyed tone. He went on a date, with a girl he never told you about, and now he was telling you, you should've been there. Is he that stupid? He hummed again just making you more annoyed.

You got up, picking up the glass and the wine bottle and going to the kitchen. You didn't want to talk anymore since he was being an idiot. "You can sleep on the couch if you want," you said getting out of the kitchen and seeing him in the same position, looking at you.

"Can I sleep with you?" he asked taking you by surprise. You two had shared a bed before but only when you were too drunk to realize what you were doing. You were almost that drunk now, but you were pretty sure he wasn't.

"Sure," you shrugged trying to keep a cool tone. "I'm gonna... brush my teeth," you tried not to stutter.

You went to the bathroom with your mind all fuzzy and you didn't know if it was because of the alcohol or because of his question. You brushed your teeth wishing that your tipsy state would help you to fall asleep fast and smoothly. You looked at the mirror and took a deep breath. "Why am I so stressed about this? If something happens you can say you were drunk," you whispered looking at yourself in the mirror. "Something happens??? What the hell are you talking about? He's dating someone," you debated with yourself. "You are crazy!" you said, finally, pointing to yourself in the mirror. You proceeded to brush your teeth and try to sober up washing your face with almost frozen water.

“Can I use the bathroom?" a voice sounded on the other side of the door after a few minutes.

“Yeah. I'm almost done," you said drying your face in the towel and opening the door to find Tom standing by the door, waiting for you to get out.

"What took you so long?" he asked with a smile and you felt your stomach turn. Maybe it was the wine, not the smile.

"I-I'm going... to bed," you said pointing to your room. Maybe you weren't so drunk.

"I'll meet you there," he said nonchalantly going into the bathroom.

You hopped on the bed, wishing you could fall asleep before he got back from the bathroom. You laid there, staring at the ceiling, not a drop of sleep in your brain, that was running a thousand miles a second with the idea of sharing a bed with your crush and best friend, Tom.

"Do you still have that sweatpant I gave you a couple months ago?" Tom asked going back to the bedroom.

"Yeah, I think it's somewhere in my closet," you said. Of course you knew where they were. You fell asleep in them whenever you missed him. "Maybe... the second drawer," you finished seeing he was looking in the wrong place.

He opened the drawer finding the sweatpants and the shirt he gave you a few months ago when you passed out in his house after drinking an entire bottle of wine. "Lucky me I gave you this," he smiled taking off his pants and you forced yourself to look at the ceiling while he undressed. "So when are you gonna tell me why you're sad?" he asked putting the pants on.

"Uh-hum... I just told you, no specific reason," you said remembering the pictures again.

"You know I know you too well to believe in that, right?" he said taking off his shirt and you looked at him, your eyes lingering on his abs a little too long. He coughed catching your attention. You looked at his face and his lips were pressed together, trying to hide a smile.

"I think it's that time of the month," you lied.

"Sure," he said rolling his eyes, knowing you were lying. Your time of the month wasn't for another two weeks if he did the math right. "Do you mind if I sleep shirtless?" he asked holding the shirt in his hand.

"No," you said already knowing it would be a difficult night.

"Thanks," he smiled jumping on the bed by your side and you mumbled a 'your welcome'. Why was he doing this to you? First, go out with that girl. Then come to your house. Ask you to sleep in your bed. And now, lay down, shirtless, by your side, like that was nothing. Did he want to torture you?

He, turning on his side and holding your waist, cut your internal rant short. He pulled you closer, closer enough for you to feel his breath on your neck. If your brain could work, he would think 'why is he doing this?' You took a deep breath and, gathering all the strength in your body, you turned, staring at your white wall, with your back facing him.

"You know I would never hurt you on purpose," he whispered on your neck, out of nowhere. You closed your eyes, not answering him, and hoping this night would end soon.

You don't know when or how but you were able to fall asleep and that was before Tom placed a kiss to your neck, wishing he could end all your sadness with his presence.

At 3 a.m. you woke up like you always do when you drink wine. Your mind was still a little fuzzy and you felt a weight over your body. You grumbled rubbing your eyes, not knowing exactly what was going on. Tom breathed heavily on your neck and you turned your face quickly, a little confused. "Fuck," you mumbled to yourself. He was a heavy sleeper, thank God. You looked down, seeing his hand on your waist and his leg over your leg. Okay, this is less than ideal. How would you get up without waking him up?

You lifted his arm carefully, freeing your waist. Then you put the leg that was free from him on the floor and pulled the other one gently. You sighed satisfied, you were free. It was not that difficult. You rolled the rest of your body slowly out of the bed, kneeling on the side of your bed, trying not to smash your face on the floor. "Jesus," you murmured getting up and looking at Tom's motionless body on the bed. You blinked a few times, focusing on his bare back, his movements almost imperceptible. He looked like an angel. But when didn't he look like that?

He moved his arm scratching his nose. You ran to the door before he could recover his conscience completely and left the room. Your mouth had that weird taste of alcohol and your head was pounding. You slowly closed the door and leaned against it, trying to remember what happened before you went to bed. You weren't that drunk so it wasn't that hard. 'You know I would never hurt you on purpose,' Tom's last words before you sleep echoed in your mind. You closed your eyes, holding the tears that started to form. Did he know?  Well, that didn't matter now. You didn't want to think about it now. You went to the kitchen and downed a glass full of water. The feeling of the liquid giving you temporary relief. You drank another one, knowing that that one would make you feel better. You leaned against the counter, staring at the dirty wine glass in the sink. "You're an idiot," you said to yourself. "Why did you let him in?" you rant to yourself putting the glass in the counter and walking around the kitchen. "He's your best friend and now he's dating. He'll hate you forever if you ruin this," you sat on a stool, hiding your face in your hands.

"Who are you talking to?" Tom said entering the kitchen and looking around.

"Jesus!" you said putting your hand in your chest. "A warning would be good."

"I'm sorry," he chuckled picking the glass you just used to drink water and pouring himself some water too.

"I'm sorry I woke you up," you said after you recovered from the shock.

"No problem. Are you okay?" he said with a concerned look, drinking the water.

"Great," you lied.

"Can you stop lying to me?" his voice was louder and a little angrier than he used to be with you.

"I-I'm not lying," you said looking everywhere but him.

"Are you serious?" he said putting the glass away and running a hand through his hair. He was pissed and that’s what he did when he was pissed.

"I'm s-sorry. I don't know what you want me to say. I'm good... everything is good... I'm sad because..." you stopped not knowing what to say next. "I don't know. Maybe PMS or whatever," you blurted out.

"Okay," he laughed humorlessly. "So, tell me something..." he looked in your eyes and you felt yourself getting smaller. "Why were you looking at pictures of me with a girl that I went out yesterday?" he asked in a deep voice and your entire body froze. "Tell me, Y/N," he took a step forward. "Why were you in your 'sadness ritual' looking at those pics?" he was so close you could feel his body invading your personal space and taking all your air away. "Do you have something to tell me?" he asked placing a hand on the counter by your side and trapping you against it. You closed your eyes, too dizzy to have this conversation now. "Anna thinks you do. And Haz too," he said.

"Tom I..." you started and noticing his glistering eyes on you. "I..." you blinked and the pics from hours ago took your entire mind. You cleared your dry throat. How was your mouth so dry? You just drank a lot of water. You hold the counter behind you. "I think you should go," you finally said.

"W-what?" he said, a confused look on his face.

"I really think you should go," you said more firmly. "I need to be by myself tonight. I'm really not feeling okay and I need some time," you pushed his arm, freeing yourself.

"I can't believe you're doing this," he said with a low and hurt voice. You just fucked up the only good thing in your life.

"Please..." you turned away from him, avoiding his look.

"You know that's not what you really want to say. You know you'll regret this. Don't do this," he reached for your arm and you pulled away from him. "Y/N."

"I don't know what you want me to do," now was your time to raise your voice. "Really? What do you want me to say?" you looked at him, you could feel your eyes burning but you were determined to keep the tears away. "Do you want me to tell you what I felt when I saw the pictures of you with a girl you invited out and didn't tell me about, God knows why. Do you want me to tell you why I felt so sad that I had to do my 'sadness ritual' to keep myself from screaming at you or broking my computer?" you said a little bitter. "You know what I have to tell you. You can pretend you don't know, you can mess around all you want, but you know that you are not ready to hear what I have to say," you rubbed your eyes, drying the tears that started to form in your eyes. "What I don't know is why are you doing this?" your voice was calmer now. You were really asking him this time. You were confused. "Why are you here? You seem to have a good thing," you said. "Go enjoy it and... let me be, please," you finished the last part in a whisper.

"You don't see it, do you?" he said and he was a lot better than you in the crying thing. He just cried, not afraid at all to show himself like that.

"What? What I don't see?" you asked crossing your arms. You were really tired of that talk.

"I don't wanna be with nobody else. I'm trying to tell you this for the last year and you keep ditching me. You don't listen to me," he said with a sad voice. "I love you. I want you. Please, don't make me go."

His words took you by surprise but you knew this wasn't as easy as it seemed. "You can't say that one day after you went on a date with another girl," you felt the hurt all over again.

"Please, Y/N. Don't do this," he reached for your arm, pulling you closer.

"I love you, but I need some time to think," you held your breath avoiding his gaze.

[platypanthewriter]

Unless...? Ch.4

Part One | Two | Three

Billy replied every time Steve texted, unless he was working, or asleep, and Steve tried to ration it out—waiting until after practice, or making himself finish his meal, so he didn’t return to work to find out Billy’d been sighing heavily every time his phone chimed.

he’s as glued to his phone as u are, sent Robin, and Steve tried not to grin too widely in triumph.

Don’t know who you’re talking about, he sent back, and she sent an eyeroll emoticon.

“Y’know,” she said later, over video chat, while Steve folded his laundry. She had a straw dangling out of her mouth like a cigarette. “—the last time I saw you texting this much,” she said, pausing so he’d look up, and then slurping at her soda, “—you were dating.” She stared him dead in the eyes.

“What is your problem,” Steve hissed at her, his face flushing. “Quit this Steve and Billy sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G shit, it’s getting old.”

Steve couldn’t help it, he wandered into Victoria’s Secret the next day, and got surrounded by sales associates. “What size,” he got asked, and they seemed unsurprised when he said “I’m not sure.” He finally just grabbed like five pairs of lace panties, his face probably steaming, and ran back out, because Billy had probably—definitely—been kidding.

Steve was feeling more and more sure, the feeling leaden in his stomach, that if he brought the lace thongs up again, he’d get the hardest “No homo” of his life. He got back to the motel and threw the packages in his backpack, stuffing them down to the bottom, and curled up on the bed, remembering how fast things had gone south with Tommy. Tommy’d wanted to jack each other off—as bros, he said, as pals—and Steve had gone along, only to hit weeks of unanswered calls.

Robin had been decidedly unsympathetic—she’d never liked Tommy—but Steve had never really stopped thinking about where he should have drawn the line, before he scared off his best friend. Maybe he could tell I was wondering what it would be like to kiss him, he thought, staring at the ceiling. Maybe I leaned in too close, and grossed him out.

He imagined Billy blanking him at work, as Steve tried to explain he’d just...thought he was doing it right, this time, coloring in the lines. He was always too dumb to know where the lines were, was the problem. He rubbed his eyes, taking a long, shaky breath, and rolled to bury his face in his pillow.

He reminded himself of Billy’s flinch when Steve called him husband, as a joke, and groaned. Slumber party, he told himself. Like kids.

Steve didn’t text Billy for a few days, after that. He didn’t think about the lace thongs, either, and he didn’t order grilled sandwiches anywhere, or doodle butterflies in his notebooks, thinking about Billy’s tattoo flexing just a little as he breathed in his sleep.

Rehearsals were distracting, and Steve practiced hard. In the afternoons, he finished up two separate songs—about loneliness, but in a vague kind of way—and started another one that would never see the light of day, about how it would feel to have just one person on earth as excited about him as he was about half the people he knew. He tried not to even imagine that person as Billy Hargrove, because how weird was that, picturing him wanting to road trip together, or go camping, and lean into each other by the fire. Steve reminded himself, grimly, of what friends did—he’d learned it with Robin, and he could learn it before he creeped Billy out, too.

He was pretty sure one thing friends didn’t do was fantasize. He threw the thongs in the trash, and then fished them out the next morning, and stared at the pile of them, tissue-wrapped and perfumed on his bed. He opened the package, and considered them—one black, one red, one pink—he didn’t know why he’d said yes to white, because white panties weren’t even date night panties, according to Nancy. White and beige were for lounging.

White was for weddings, though, Steve thought, feeling ridiculous, and stuffing them back in the bag. He tried not to think about taking the joke way too far, and buying rings.

respond to yr boy, he keeps checking his phone like a lovesick goon, Robin sent the next day, and Steve clicked over to Billy’s messages and sent a string of hearts without even checking what Billy had said.

Once he actually checked, it was you forget about me, harrington? and Steve wanted to spin around in place, he realized, alone in his hotel room, because Billy Hargrove missed him, and so he did. He shuffled around to the tune in his head with his arms up like his phone was Billy himself, spinning and swaying his hips because nobody was looking, and then he let himself fall face-first on the bed like a Disney character, giggling. He dialed Billy, and curled up on his side, grinning.

“...I guess you do remember who I am, huh,” Billy grouched.

“I miss you,” Steve told him, confident for once, because Billy Hargrove, cool bartender sounded pouty, like a little kid. “Like I’d forget my best guy. My most favorite—”

“Oh my god, stop,” Billy laughed.

“Coolest person I know,” Steve told him, honestly, and Billy snickered harder, his voice going muffled.

“I’m at work, jesus,” he hissed, but he sounded fond.

“I wish I was there,” Steve told him. “I’d just dedicate you a song. Right in the middle of a set, just switch songs. Sorry, y’all, my bartender’s lonely.”

“Jesus,” Billy groaned, but Steve could tell he was smiling. “You say that, but it’d—it’d be something dumb, you’d sing me the Barney Song—”

“‘I love you, you love me,’” Steve sang cheerfully, as Billy said, “Do not. Do not sing it. Steve—”

Steve’s heart pounded, singing love words to Billy, but Billy’d suggested it, so it wasn’t weird, it was a joke. “We’re gonna have a huge weddiiiing,” he crooned, “—with a lacy thong, and kiss from me to you—”

Billy cackled, breathless. “Shut up!” he panted. “Stop, you dipshit, quit it—”

“Won’t you say you love me tooooo?” Steve held the note like a broadway star, and Billy must have died laughing, because all Steve could hear was wheezing.

“Shut up,” he gasped. “Holy shit, fuck you, Harrington—”

“Hey, you thought I wouldn’t do it, practically a dare, Hargrove—”

“Oh my god,” Billy groaned, still giggling, and Steve wished he was there, Billy next to him on the bed, so he could hear it better.

Billy needed to giggle more, Steve thought, trying not to think of Billy’s weight in his arms, warm and solid. He wanted Billy laughing helplessly into his shoulder, he realized, sharply, like a hunger pang. “I don’t think you’ve gotten enough love songs,” Steve told him, his voice a little husky with the stupid surge of emotion over Billy laughing.

“...most people don’t write songs,” he whispered back. “Most people aren’t you, Steve Harrington.”

“I think you need to hear it more,” Steve insisted, stubbornly. “I mean, I know I’m not supposed to talk about—Drunk Night—but—” Billy took a sharp breath, but didn’t say anything, and Steve winced. “I won’t, I won’t, I promise, but—but anybody who doesn’t tell you that—that they—they’re shitty. You’re amazing.”

“I’m really not,” Billy laughed, like Steve was being ridiculous.

“You are, you’re so smart—”

“I’m what now,” Billy interrupted, snorting a laugh that didn’t sound nearly as happy as his giggles while Steve had sung.

“You can remember all that drink stuff, it’s so complicated, and people make these bullshit crazy orders—”

“...that’s just memorizing, Harrington,” Billy sighed.

“I couldn’t do it,” Steve told him, honestly. “You were telling that lady all about, like, the history of France when she ordered something—”

“I told her where cognac was made,” Billy told him, laughing. “I’m not a history professor, jesus—”

“It was really interesting! I fall asleep when most people talk about history,” Steve admitted, grimacing. “I actually went home and looked some of it up! And then I pretended it was in your voice so I could stay awake.”

“Oh my god,” Billy groaned.

“I always find the smart people! I’m like a smartness-sniffer, like a drug sniffer dog,” Steve told him, trying to support his case, as Billy started laughing his ass off again. “I’m serious, like, I dated the smartest girl in highschool, and I ended up friends with the smartest kid in her little brother’s friend group, and look how smart Robin is—”

“Jesus Hobgoblin Christ,” Billy mumbled.

“I’m telling you, you’re smart, don’t mess with me on this, I’ll get Robin and Jonathan backing me up.” Billy made a weird gulping noise, like glugging faucet, and Steve frowned at his phone. “I mean it,” he insisted. “Who the hell told you you weren’t? Bull shit, man.”

“Sure wish I actually was who you think I am,” Billy said softly, and Steve couldn’t take it, he stuck his tongue out and made a loud PTHBBBBBT noise into the phone.

“You’re perfect, shut up,” Steve told him. “You’re great. I—I have receipts, okay, I can—I can present evidence to the court—”

“You’re so fucking weird,” Billy told him, his laughter soft again. “How come you’re way the hell away, I wanna see you, you freak of nature.”

“You’re still coming Friday, right,” Steve asked, again, and Billy laughed.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Can’t believe you want to drive all the way out here to see me,” Steve told him, rolling onto his back to beam at the ceiling. “Gonna hug you so hard.”

“Can’t believe you miss me so much you want me to,” Billy said, laughing. “We still doing this motel sleepover thing? You didn’t, uh, you don’t have a better offer?”

“What the hell better offer could there be,” Steve whispered, trying to imagine, and Billy laughed.

“Oh, shit, somebody actually wants a drink,” he said, and Steve laughed.

“See you Friday,” he said, and didn’t hang up.

“...yeah, yeah, see you Friday, Harrington,” Billy said, before the line went dead, and Steve could hear his smile.

He called Robin Thursday, determined not to tell her about the thongs. He’d tried one on, in a panic at two-fifteen in the morning, when he suddenly woke, his heart pounding, to a dream where Billy was willing to marry him if he only wore a thong, but the damn thing didn’t fit.

He yanked it over his feet—it felt like a stretchy, fancy rubber band—and stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, feeling like a moron with the tip of his dick sticking up over the band, the red mark around his waist from his briefs, and his hairy legs. The cheap motel toilet seat lid creaked alarmingly as he sat on it, groaning into his arms, the image of his dream-self chasing around the courthouse naked because his stupid lace thong didn’t fit still stuck in his head.

It was hard not to further imagine the way Tommy’s lip would have curled. Steve had thought—they’d practised kissing on each other, before dates, and after, a couple times, when the dates had been shitty. Tommy’d been the one to undo Steve’s jeans, the day before he stopped returning calls.

The idea of Billy grimacing at the damn thongs had Steve yanking it off again. He actually threw it in the toilet, and stomped out, chanting ‘fuck,’ over and over, before he remembered it’d clog the damn plumbing and some poor motel lady did not get paid enough to fish a thong out of the pipes with Steve’s dick hair still on it. He turned on his heel and ran back in, splashing around in the toilet with his bare hand, glad at least that he hadn’t flushed it down.

He wrapped it in toilet paper, and threw it in the trash, but it soaked through, red and black lace and soggy toilet paper, and he yanked it out again, hissing furiously through his teeth, and disentangled it from the previous night’s dental floss.

When he called Robin, later that morning, with pants on, he considered asking her how the hell to get toilet paper off a wet lacy thong. Would she even know, he wondered, flopping back on the bed. Did she even like that stuff? Maybe only men did, on women, he thought. He suddenly wanted to ask, but Robin was talking about her custom Xena-themed guitar case strap, and he couldn't really think of a way to ask. When she paused, he sighed. “Sounds rad."

"You're barely listening," she told him. "What's up?"

"Remind me not to fuck this up like I did with Tommy,” he told her, dully, staring at the ceiling, and she snorted a laugh.

“Nah,” she said, thoughtfully, “—Tommy was a fuckface. Good job on that one.”

Steve bit his lips, remembering waking after their mutual jaerk-off session, kind of excited to get Tommy over again and see where things went, and Tommy never picking up his calls again. Tommy still called, occasionally, and said things like “I have a fiance now,” before hanging up. Steve still wondered, sometimes, whether he could have been less himself, and still had a best friend. “...yeah, I guess,” he said, sighing.

“Billy’s better,” she told him, and Steve opened his mouth to brag, but she cut him off with “—he actually likes you,” and he deflated. “You gonna get him to the courthouse while he’s in town?” she asked, teasing, and Steve pthbbbbbt’d her.

Steve buzzed around all day Friday, grinning at everyone like Billy was coming from another country, and Steve hadn’t seen him in years. Dalton asked if they were about to meet his new girlfriend, and Steve had to tear himself away from his phone, blushing, to explain Billy was the bartender at work. “He is not my girlfriend,” he emphasized, sighing. “We’re just—”

“...boyfriends?” Dalton asked, and Steve glared at him, wondering how Robin had gotten to his Kool-aid.

“We’re friends!” Steve told him, feeling his cheeks heat further. “Everybody keeps asking me that!” Dalton raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Best friends,” Steve bragged, and Dalton’s eyebrows rose impossibly higher. “Look, I know it’s dumb, I just really like him—”

“Oh, I can see that,” Dalton said, nodding slowly as he tuned his bass. “...everybody can see that.”

The door banged, and Steve was on his feet so fast he almost dropped his coffee, but it was just Javi and Wesley, the guitarist and drummer.

“Oh, hey,” said Steve, sitting back down, and tapping his foot.

“...no need to get so excited to see us,” Wesley said.

“...you’re not his bartender,” Dalton told them, with the significant glance Steve had begun to associate with anyone around he and Billy, and he groaned.

He’d almost forgotten he was waiting for Billy, a couple hours in, when he looked up and saw him standing awkwardly off to the side. Steve sprang up mid-song to jump down off the stage, run over, and throw his arms around him. Billy grunted with shock as Steve lifted him a little off the ground in a hug, and then hugged him back, slowly, tucking his hot face in Steve’s shoulder.

Steve leaned back and swung him a little, relishing his weight, then let go and stepped back. He couldn��t stop smiling. “You’re here,” he said, and Billy laughed, glancing behind Steve.

“You stopped mid-song,” Dalton said—and he didn’t even sound mad, just bewildered.

“Sorry,” Billy told him, grimacing.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Steve told him, throwing his arm around Billy’s shoulders, and dragging him over to introduce him to the guys. “This is Billy Hargrove!”

“....hi,” Billy said, sounding a little strangled, and side-eyeing Steve.

“He’s my best friend. We’re gonna get friend-married,” Steve announced, and Javi played a weird discordant chord on his guitar. Billy smacked his face with his hand.

“—as soon as he says yes,” Steve amended, and everyone looked even more disbelieving.

“I’m...gonna go sit down,” Billy said, extricating himself and wandering a few feet away to sit on the floor. “Go rehearse,” he muttered. His ears were bright red, and Steve wanted to touch them, but he cleared his throat, and jumped back up on the stage, giddy with the contact high of putting his arms around Billy Hargrove.

“Lemme get this, uh,” Wesley cleared his throat, “—straight,” he muttered. “They’re friends?”

“Friends,” Steve said, nodding. He waggled his eyebrows at Billy and played just enough of the riff from Owner of a Lonely Heart that Billy burst out snickering, and a chorus of ‘Whaaaat’s and ‘Oh my god’ s went up around him.

When they breaked, Steve was off the stage again in a flash.  “So, I was thinking,” he told Billy, dropping next to him on the boards to slide an arm around him, and tug him close enough that Steve got a whiff of Billy’s shampoo, and felt his cheeks heat. He cleared his throat, relaxing a little so they weren’t as tightly pressed together, but he forgot what he was gonna say, watching the flush spread across Billy’s freckled cheeks. Steve reached up and pressed his fingers to the tip of Billy’s reddened ear, feeling the warmth, and snickered.

“What were you thinking?” Billy growled, batting his hand away. “Stop poking me, Harrington—”

“Mmrm,” Steve said, squeezing him close again in a tight side-hug. “God, what’s it been, like, days? I need my Billy fix.” He leaned his head on Billy’s shoulder, sighing contentedly, and Billy groaned, sliding his arm around Steve, and letting his head thump against Steve’s hair.

“You’re so weird,” he whispered.

“You’re weird,” Steve fired back, at lightning speed, like a genius, and Billy started giggling, relaxing against him. Steve remembered how soft Billy’s hair had been on his pillow, when Steve had reached over and drunkenly patted it like a cat. He wished it wouldn’t be totally weird to run his fingers through it. “...we’re playing a set tonight, but there are other bands. I thought we could leave, get dinner, come back and listen?”

“You asking me to the dance, Harrington?” Billy asked, laughing, and Steve nodded.

“Yes, absolutely, we should dance,” he laughed, glad Billy had brought it up first, but Billy stiffened against him in the way he did when Steve was a little too much. Steve winced, and rolled it back. “I-I mean, if you want to. There—there are a couple bands you might like. We don’t have to. You’re probably tired.”

“...I am pretty tired,” Billy admitted, quietly, and Steve lifted his head off Billy’s shoulder, and pulled his arm back, inwardly cursing himself, but Billy squeezed him. “I wanna go. Though. We should go.”

“Okay,” Steve laughed, nodding with relief. “Sorry. I know I can be kind of...a lot.”

“No, don’t—” Billy sighed, slumping against him, and Steve laughed, putting an arm around him again, as Billy’s weight threatened to knock them both sideways. “You’re not—I mean, you—you’re not too much, jesus.”

Steve swallowed back a stinging in his eyes, feeling his cheeks heat further. It felt like a drop of sweat would sizzle away like water in a hot pan, and he laughed into Billy’s hair. “...you can always tell me to back off a little, though. I mean. I won’t get—weird about it, I promise, if you need a break—I was trying to give you a break coming here,” he laughed, grimacing. “—and then I just ended up begging you to come, but I can—I mean, I can hear ‘no’, I promise.”

“...I promise I’ll tell you if you’re ever too much,” Billy said, sighing. “You don’t need to give me breaks.”

“...I kinda wear people out,” Steve told him, grimacing. “I just—I know they don’t…” he paused, trying his words together like puzzle pieces. “Um,” he said finally, “—people try to—to stay, uh, they just get kind of...bored. With me.”

Billy narrowed his eyes. “I literally can’t imagine that happening,” he said, and the unexpected deadpan sarcasm slid into Steve like a really sharp knife, when the cut doesn’t hurt right away, and then wells up red, and drips everywhere.

He swallowed, clenching his jaw, and wondering why Billy had come, if he was already sick of it.

“Hey, hey, I mean that, I’m not gonna get bored,” Billy hissed. “Jesus, you look like a kicked puppy.”

Steve laughed, relaxing a little, because it wasn’t like Billy had known him for all that long. There was probably a while, yet, as long as Steve wasn’t weird about it.

“Will you get up here,” Dalton called over. “Stop mooning over each other for five minutes, maybe?” When Steve stomped back onstage, Dalton raised his eyebrows. “Hey, tonight,” he said, “—there are other bands, you should come early, bring your…” he trailed off, raising his eyebrows.

“Billy,” Steve supplied, annoyed. “His name’s Billy, he’s the new bartender.”

“Is that what they’re calling it now,” Wesley said, with a drum flourish, and Steve hoped to god Billy couldn’t hear them.

“You should bring him. After you take him to dinner.”

Steve opened his mouth, closed it, and then sidled closer. “Where are the good places for dinner, I’ve been getting burgers or whatever,” he whispered, and his old bandmates redeemed themselves, drawing around him to consider the merits of several local restaurants, with ratings for food, atmosphere, and price point.

Part One | Two | Three

[boundinshallows]

Peaky Rare Pair Bingo Mid-Fest Round-Up

We started the Peaky Blinders Rare Pair Bingo Challenge back in July and still have a few weeks left. However, I thought it would be a great time to do a mid-fest round-up to catch folks up on what’s been written so far. 

Rare Pairs are tricky things. They’re rare because they don’t get a lot of fanworks produced about them. And in turn, sometimes the authors don’t get a lot of love on their fics because the audiences are limited. It becomes a vicious cycle, and in the end, fandom suffers because there's an overrepresentation of just a few pairings, but many amazing characters to love and explore. 

I would like to invite you all to take a look at some truly incredible pieces of fic for some much undervalued pairings in Peaky Blinders. If you have a moment, please leave the authors a comment to keep fueling their creativity, even if it’s brief, especially if you like the ship. Kudos are wonderful too, but comments really help writers know there’s an audience out there looking for rare pair content. 

Cheers! 

++++++++++

 Chester Campbell / Tommy Shelby

Shameless by AbusiveLittleBun || [ E ] Tommy has his usual meeting with Campbell in a café but decides to spice it a bit up.

Tatiana Petrovna / Alfie Solomons

Solnishko by Valkrist || [ E ] There was something lovely about all the movements, about kneading the dough, while listening to some radio shows, shaking one’s hand and laughing about the people and music the whole time. As stupid as it could be, Alfie didn’t like to be interrupted during this process. There was only one exception, only one person that could call him or come in without having to deal with his grumpiness.

Vivid by Strawberriez8800 || [ E ] In which Alfie dreams about getting fucked by Tatiana, and asks Tommy a question.

Dazzle Me Blind by Strawberriez8800 || [ T ] Tatiana glances back at Alfie over her shoulder. “Have you ever been fucked by a princess?” “Can’t say I have, no.” “Good,” she says, voice like molten gold. “I like to be the first at everything I do.”

Singular by Strawberriez8800 || [ E ] Alfie tugs on Tatiana's silver chain, pulls her down towards him. “Something you should know, princess,” he says, mouth brushing against the shell of her ear, “I’m not in the habit of sharing, am I now.” She grins a feral grin. “Not even with Tommy Shelby?”

Barney Thompson / Tommy Shelby

Play Pretend by Valkrist || [ T ] It shouldn’t feel this way, should it? He shouldn’t be that afraid, feel more comfortable. Enjoy all the moments, blossom and feel all this happiness, but he didn’t. Why was he sad? Why didn’t he experience the same things others were talking about?

Peaches, Roses, Sandalwood by Valkrist || [ E ] There was something fascinating about all the oils, vials and equipment standing on the table. Small glasses, various colors, paste, scrapers, everything one could imagine. Different scents filled the room - and in the middle of it all there was one filled, slightly violet flacon.

Always Landing on Their Feet by Valkrist || [ G ] Tommy had always been torn between doing business properly and giving Charlie enough love and attention. Never really knew how to do it well enough, how to make his childhood fulfilled enough, but he had thought that it was okay, that he did his best giving Charlie good education and lovely father-son evenings. Had even dared to think that his boy didn’t have any secrets and behaved nice when he had to go to London for some days. Well, this was until he got one particular fateful e-mail.

Indulge a Desire by Valkrist || [ E ] There were many things that helped Barney forget about all his duties for a while, but the low lighting was the best one, after all.

Been Reading Books of Old, the Legends and the Myths by Valkrist || [M] Remember the last time we wrote each other letters? I don’t, but well, maybe it’s a good idea. Kinda funny to send all this words, knowing that you won’t read them immediately. But I won’t write them too often, still gotta pay for my living, you know.

Tu as tué la peur qui là dans mes bras by Valkrist || [ T ] Tommy chuckled. It was always funny to listen to Barney, even if he couldn’t understand how the latter managed to stay that calm. It seemed as if Ollie made nothing but mistakes, but Barney was patient, so terribly patient. Repeated the words again and again, encouraged Ollie to go on and not to send it all to hell.

Thoughts of You Consume by Valkrist || [ E ] Barney had already known what was about to come at the races. Going there hadn’t really been his preferable option for the day, but there was no harm in doing it - just being on Tommy’s side, looking at the majestic horses and seeing the other man’s lips curling into a smile when everything went the way it should. Barney didn’t understand much of this sort of business, but it was alright as long as Tommy knew what he was doing.

May Carleton / Tommy Shelby

When You Walk in Smelling Like Her Perfume by Valkrist || [ T ] May had never thought this necklace would mean so much to her one day. It hadn’t been much more than a lovely gesture back then, a little present, a joke. Something that looked lovely and united them. Even the telepathy coming with it didn’t seem intimate back then, being a lovely side effect. Oh, how easy it had been back then…

Between This Heartbeat and the Next by Strawberriez8800 || [ G ] Tommy is looking at her like he’s finally living their moments rather than stealing them. What a sight it makes.

Off the Beaten Path by Strawberriez8800 || [ G ] Thomas is waiting for someone; May is not so conceited as to assume it is her, yet when she takes the seat beside him and orders herself a drink, with the way he looks at her, it would be asinine to conclude the case is anything else. 

The One Who Got Away by Boundinshallows || [ M ] Tommy and May go on an overnight trip to purchase a horse.

James / Tommy Shelby

This was Nothing by AbusiveLittleBun || [ E ] Tommy is frustrated after another meeting with Alfie and he needs an outlet. Luckily it finds him first.

Salt and Mint by AbusiveLittleBun || [ E ] Tommy was forced to remain for dinner at Ada's, in fear of James revealing their little secret, and makes a deal with the boy for his good behavior... things escalate very quickly.

Like Thunder, Like Lightning by AbusiveLittleBun || [ E ] Tommy feels torn after his hasty departure from Ada's, and a surprising phone call might, or might not help him move forward...

R U Mine? by AbusiveLittleBun || [ E ] Tommy goes back to James, but it also comes with more consequences than he imagined... (Direct sequel to Like Thunder, Like Lightning!)

Jessie Eden / Ada Shelby

Dress by Keine_angst || [ G ] Now that she's made peace with her feelings towards Jessie Eden, there was only one obstacle left. The dress. 

Hungry for (Your) Love by Keine_angst || [ G ] “Tommy, sweetheart, how can you expect me to agree to do something for you if you don’t explain what do you need from me?” she pointed out the obvious, because really, it wouldn’t be safe to just say yes and take the pot luck, not when Thomas Shelby was in charge. Ada agrees to help her brother out, but things get out of hand.

Billy Grade / Finn Shelby

Beyond Redemption (Just a Pawn) by Valkrist || [ M ] Finn was angry, fucking angry. Should’ve probably known that it all would come this way. Done something against it. Then again, what could he have done? Tommy hadn’t told him that much, trying to keep him away from this bad kind of business. Football bets were alright, but nothing more. Didn’t need to ship cocaine or opium or whatever this was about. Bets like in the good old times, having Billy to write everything down.

Gina Gray / Oswald Mosley

White Swan by Valkrist || [ M ] It was funny how they all hadn’t noticed it at all, Mosley thought. Such blind people. Didn’t see it, maybe simply didn’t want to, who was to say that. He hadn’t been truly interested in joining this dance - an evening with a bunch of fucking Gypsies wasn’t exactly his idea of a well spent time - but apparently there were some good things about occasions of that kind. Well, as long as he ignored the opium, cocaine and brandy. Really didn’t seem to know the rules, this silly people.

Lizzie Stark / Tommy Shelby

Again by Emjen_Enla || [ T ] Tommy rolled over. Again. Or Tommy and Lizzie mostly fail at this sharing a bed thing.

Bonnie Gold / Goliath

Raise the Boxing Gloves by Valkrist || [ M ] Poor boy didn’t know what dreamless nights were anymore. Always had something to think about, adventures happening, a combination of all the things he had experienced. Sometimes bad, sometimes good, sometimes it was simply unclear. But Goliath could beat it all out of him if he wasn’t careful enough. Made him forget with ease, his senses focussing on some little, often rather unimportant details. An impressive and talented young man.

Ollie / Alfie Solomons

Our Bones May Turn to Stone but Hearts like Ours Don’t Rust by Valkrist || [ T ] The dunes, the water, the sand, it was all calming. Ollie simply couldn’t get used to it after having spend so much time in London, knowing all the dirt of Camden. Muddy shoes, blood, he had seen it all, even though it was way better than Birmingham, if Alfie was to be believed.

Luca Changretta / Tommy Shelby

Now and Forever by AbusiveLittleBun || [ E ] Luca is enchanted with the beautiful blue-eyed boy that attends the school he helps his mother at, little does he know Tommy Shelby feels the same way towards him...

Boysenberry Tie, with Periwinkle Eyes by WTSL_Writer_of_Things || [ G ] The bow was strange and new, the colour hard to come by and find. It wasn't often people managed to dye a bow that colour, so he snatched it up and bright it home to his blue eyes doll. Years go by and he finds that colour again, this time as a tie, and he gets the tie for his new Periwinkle eyed lover, who he practically drops to the floor for. So he gets a boysenberry tie, for the Periwinkle eyes of his strange lover.

Oswald Mosley / Tommy Shelby

Coat Wrapped Around His Shoulders by Valkrist || [ M ] It was a miracle, a fucking miracle.Tommy still didn’t know how Barney had stayed alive, but he had. Could have shot Mosley marvelously if it weren’t for this horrible interruption. A life for a life, except both people had stayed alive this time. And this was the other side of the coin. Mosley was still alive. A wonderful plan, all for nothing. So much effort put into it, all for nothing. But at least they hadn’t caught them, so Tommy could still keep his cover. Could enter the hospital without people suspecting him, ready to figure it all out.

[captainjimothycarter]

WinterHawk Accidental Marriage AU

It was been a while since I’ve gotten a WinterHawk prompt. I love my himbos so much.

--

There was a sour taste in Clint’s mouth that he didn’t necessarily enjoy. Nor did he enjoy the blinding sun being able to just peek between the beige curtains and strike him in the eyes. And honestly, he didn’t enjoy the one-fourth robotic man beside him who was snoring like a freight train either. All in all, it was a bad morning and he needed some coffee.

What in the hell happened last night?

The blonde sat up with a heavy huff, dragging the cheap motel covers with him. He could feel his skin crawling as he looked down at them, reminding himself he needed to take a fie hour shower just to feel clean again after being in these. Never watch a documentary on hotels, folks. Never.

The brunette beside him snorted and rolled over, his metal arm being thrown over Clint’s waist. The guy was pretty cute. He had dimples and freckles and a small scar under his left eye, one you couldn’t see unless you were right there. That chiseled jawline and full lips really made for some passionate kissing too.

Holy fuck, did they kiss last night?

Did they fuck?!

Clint scrambled from the bed and nearly fell over the covers wrapping around his legs. He grunted as he stumbled back into the dusty curtains and jerked them open in his effort to stay up. The sunlight was screaming hot and bright, beaming down on his guest of honor.

“What the hell?” The brunette groaned, rubbing at his eyes and throwing a pillow over his face. “Close the damn curtains you maniac. Is this how you fucking treat your husband?”

“Husband?!” The word squeaked from Clint’s lips as he looked down at his left hand. Sure enough, a purple, metallic ring sat there. And on the man’s metallic fingers sat a red one. They were married.

“Hang on…” The man groaned as he sat up and dragged the sheet with him in his deed to close the curtains next to a frozen Clint. He didn’t even seem to mind that they were both naked. “Don’t you remember?” His fingertips trailed over Clint’s jawline, causing the blonde to both blush and shudder.

“N-no! I think I’d remember if I got married, asshole.” He slapped the hand away, causing the robotic man to pout. Damnit, he had no right to look adorable when pouting. No right. “I don’t even know your name or-or how we met. Or where are we! What happened?”

He needed some coffee. Or a drink. Both, even.

Stomping over to the bathroom counter, he was glad to see the cheaply disgusting coffee waited to be made. It smelled like crap but it was something hot and caffeinated.

“I’m Bucky, for one. For two, why are you drinking out of that disgusting thing? You know they don’t clean those right?”

Clint hadn’t even considered that, but at this point, he was thirsty and needed something to keep him focused. “Bucky. That’s a weird name.” He chose to ignore what the man said, setting the pot he was drinking straight out of down. “Who names their kid Bucky? Did your parents hate you or something?”

It was Bucky’s turn to make a face. He plopped down on the bed and dragged the pillow in his lap. “No, they loved me, actually. Unlike yours, Francis.” Ouch. Cheap shot. A deserved shot. “Anyway, no it’s a nickname. My name’s James Barnes.”

Fuck.

James Barnes.

“As in the Winter Soldier?!”

There was the squeaky tone again.

“The one and only, baby. Well, I like to think so. There’s plenty of copy cats, but no one can do it like me.”

Clint was panicking now, running his hands over and over again through his hair. He was leaving tracks in it, not caring how he looked. His body was covered in soft bruises as if someone’s mouth had left them behind and two guesses as to who in the hell that would be. His heart was racing, jumping between his throat and stomach as the situation turned over in his head.

All the while Bucky just watched him under pretty, blue eyes. No wonder the man seemed familiar this morning. He fucked up. He really fucked up. This was bad. This was terrible. Natasha was going to kill him.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” Clint flinched when he said babe and Bucky pouted. “Okay, no pet names, I see. Seriously, stop pacing you’re making me antsy. Talk to me.”

“What’s wrong?! Do you really have to ask that?! I-I-I don’t even remember how we met! And you’re saying we married one another last night?! Who let’s two drunk people get married?! Do you really have to ask what’s wrong when I-I married the Winter Soldier?! Do you not see the problem with that?!”

Bucky huffed and rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his scarred chest. “If you’re talking about that charge in Germany, I was cleared of all charged, thank you. It wasn’t my fault the idiot didn’t know how to use a blow dart. Seriously, who robs someone with a blow dart?”

Standing up, he crossed over to Clint and grabbed him by the shoulders, keeping him from pacing. Clint was a good few inches taller than him, enough to cause Bucky to have to look up at him. Damn it, why did he have to look so adorable with his chin tilted up? There was that coy, little smile on his lips too. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Maybe he should call Barney but his big bro would just laugh at him when he told him, tell him his childhood dreams were coming true. And to be careful what you wish for, the bastard.

Natasha would just laugh or be jealous and she got petty when she was jealous.

Fuck. This was bad.

“We met last night at the bar. You were pouting because of some situation about missing a concert. You looked so pathetic, like a dog left outside in the rain. I couldn’t take you elsewhere to lighten you up. You’re honestly pretty fun when you’re happy. Didn’t shut up the whole night.”

It all rushed back to Clint. He was pouting last night. He had other obligations last night with Barney that ran over, causing him to miss the concert of a lifetime. He’d gone to the bar to get drunk because fuck he deserved that, even if the drinks in Las Vegas were three times as much as elsewhere. Then he’d met him. The guy had come in with a pair of leather, zipper jeans, a ripped fishnet tank top, and his hair a wild mess. There was no way Clint could miss who the fuck he was.

Until he did because he was a fucking idiot and drunk.

“Well, I got pretty shitfaced too,” Bucky continued, shaking his head. “We just started talking about our lives and how they led up to this point. One thing leads to another and now we’re married. And sorry, toots but you’re stuck with me. At least until I can legally divorce without being considered an immigrant.”

That makes sense. The man wasn’t American and the stupid laws and loopholes worked. It helped when your brother’s wife was a lawyer. He remembered being on the phone to Laura and Barney last night, but they were used to his 3am drunken calls.

Clint groaned as he sat on the bed and covered his face, Bucky still standing above him with a more than amused look. “I still can’t believe I married the Winter Soldier. You’re the lead singer in the-the Winter Soldiers! I have a huge crush on you!”

Bucky laughed, plopping down beside Clint to throw one arm over his shoulders and squeeze him to him. “Well, now you’re married to me. How’s that for an upgrade?”

[kidney9-9]

Petty Chapter 3 (Peter Parker)

Cover/Moodboard made by @lozzypoz321​ Thank you very much for making this!! I love it so much!! You’re so sweet!!

In this chapter, tensions build and collide, as Peter and Y/n finally meet. Sorry for missed update yesterday, I wasn’t feeling too good. I might be taking a little longer to update everything on my blog because of my health, but this series is my first priority on here :) Hope you enjoy this chapter! 

Taglist is open, and to join, send an ask!! Updates every other day unless specified

Series Masterlist

Peter Parker x Reader  Warnings: swearing Word Count: 2.3k

You tried your best not to stare at Peter during the assembly today. Every part of you felt guilty as he turned back around for a second, making eye contact with you. Why did you do that to him? After hearing your cousin scream at you repeatedly for hours, you really did soak in your own guilt and shame. It was such a stupid thing to do as well, to change his grades just because you didn’t like him.

You scoffed silently at the reason why you didn’t like him. Stupid Spiderman shit… you shook your head at the idea of it. A lot of people have superhero phases, and you did too, but it wasn’t so strong to the fact you became a superhero or tried to be one. You wondered why he even thought about trying to be a hero, it made no sense. It pissed you off even more that it was his “secret” identity, and you wondered why no one else called him out for it, when it was so painfully obvious.

His cover wasn’t even mediocre in your opinion. A high schooler, interning as Tony Stark’s assistant or whatever, didn’t sound right. There were hundreds of dozens of people who apply to positions like that for Tony Stark, and never hear back from his company. Most of those people have doctorates, have started their own successful businesses, and have way more experience than just some high school boy. If you applied for that position, even with the same grades and success as Peter, you would be laughed at. It just didn’t seem like a good cover up to hide the fact that Peter was Spiderman.

The name bothered you too.

Spiderman? If he was spiderman, wouldn’t he have spiders just crawling out of him, not just the web shooters? You grinned slightly, thinking of the name Web-boy. It sounded like shit, but glancing back to Peter, you grinned even more, thinking of calling him that. Would he be offended? Probably, but it was more accurate than “Spiderman”.

Your gaze turned to the stage once again, as Peter whipped around, catching your stare once more. He frowned and glanced back as the teachers started talking. “Expect schedule changes starting the first day of finals. Instead of our regular block-schedule, we as an administration, have agreed that this schedule is easier. Based off your finals scheduled by your teachers, all students of classes that share the teacher will be in the same room, at the same time. We’ll be using the library, gym, and field for finals.” Your vice principal rambled nervously, glancing over to the principal.

She nodded in return to her colleague and stared into the crowd. “In short, it doesn’t matter if you’re in first period or last period, you will be in the same room, taking the same test made by your teacher. Every student’s schedule is printed at the exit, and you will wait in line to receive it.” Excited quiet chatter erupted from the students as you furrowed your eyebrows together, glancing back to your friend, Alex.

“Guess we’ll be taking the history final together?” Alex spoke, making you nod back to her. “Strange, maybe it’ll be better but who knows?” You made small talk back, still confused at the new schedule.

You sat in your cousin’s class after school as she paced the room anxiously. You played with your fingers absentmindedly, not sure of how to talk about your actions with Peter’s grades. It seemed your cousin didn’t know either, as she started to bite her nails, muttering swear words directed at everything. You stared down at the wood on your desk, and you sighed, counting the random lines and circles indented into the chair.

“Shithead…” Your cousin started, causing you to glance back up to her. She sat in one of the student’s desks near you, propping her feet up on another one. You nodded to her, as she rolled her eyes at herself, wondering why this all happened. “Peter’s a good kid, I think. Well, I don’t really know. Will you tell me why the fuck you did that to him?” She paused, scratching her head. She picked up her burrito, taking a bite, before continuing, mumbling over the food in her mouth.

“And more importantly, to me? You know what the fuck you just caused?”

You watched the clock tick up on the wall, as you felt your heart start to speed up. Mandy continued ranting at you, but all her words passed through you as you started to count the seconds, wanting to leave already. You heard shuffling from Mandy, but you didn’t glance away from the clock as she called your name again.

What did you cause?

You weren’t entirely sure of everything. At most, you just knew you ruined a part of Peter’s future; but even then, you weren’t sure. Was there more? Mandy cleared her throat loudly, pulling the desk she was in closer to you, causing a scratching noise to erupt in the room.

You cringed at the noise as you glanced back to Mandy. “What do my actions do to you?” You question, shaking your head as Mandy groaned loudly. She chewed her bottom lip, making you furrow your eyebrows together, knowing it was a bad habit of hers.

“Uh, you know how the English department needs money…” She trailed off, eyes fluttering away from yours as you scoffed in disbelief. “Please don’t tell me,” You paused, getting up from your seat, standing right at hers now. You already got the general idea of what your idiot cousin did, making you shake your head again.

“That you stole money from Parker?” You finished, hoping it wasn’t true. Mandy instantly shook her head, laughing at your idea. She placed her hands in her lap, patting softly as she stared at you.

“Of course not. That’s fucking stupid.” She retorted, laughing again, more nervously. You tilted your head back to her, thinking back to every time she’s lied to you, and that laugh she has when she does it. One of the worst lies she told you was about your old pet goldfish, Barney. He was about three years old, and Mandy told you she took it to the vet once, but instead she accidently knocked over the tank. She lied for over a month, telling you that the vet says there’s something seriously wrong and needed to be in the “hospital”. You finally caught her in her lie when you questioned her for hours.

This time, you could tell you didn’t have to question her, since she was already sweating from her lies. “Mandy…what did you do?” You asked seriously, staring her down as she giggled out again, fanning her face with her hand.

Mandy groaned slightly, rubbing her face in shame. She spluttered out, “Uh, fuck, well I might have blackmailed Peter into giving us some money, but this is ultimately your fault since you were the one to change his grades like that!”

What the fuck?

Your eyes widened at her. Millions of scenarios passed through your mind as you coughed in surprise back at your cousin. What the both of you did was illegal, and she didn’t even know he was Spiderman! Your heart pounded wildly in your chest at the thought of getting into legal trouble with the school system and the Avengers. Then you furrowed your eyebrows at that thought, what would it be like to even get in legal trouble with the Avengers. You knew they’ve had their troubles in the past, but would they even mess with a high schooler and a teacher? You shook your head at that, laughing in disbelief at everything.

“You’re fucked up,” You paused, glancing to the door. It was creaked open, making you sigh, shaking your head again. You walked over to it, slamming it shut as you glanced back to Mandy as she breathed in, preparing her rant back to you.

Ned stood in shock by the door, as he trembled, pulling out his phone to call Peter. He was planning on talking to Miss Riley about the final, thinking maybe he could pass information on to Peter, just in case she dropped his grade because she didn’t like him. It was just to help a friend, but now hearing your conversation while standing outside the classroom, Ned didn’t know what to think. You and Miss Riley planned this? Ned shook his head, as he put his head down, pressing the phone to one of his ears as he sped down the hallway.

Peter answered the phone with a sigh, as he plopped down on a rooftop, just starting his shift as Spiderman. “Hey,” He started, wondering why Ned called him.  

Ned stuttered out, “Come back to the school!” Peter shook his head in confusion, quickly standing up and scrunching his face together, as he ripped his mask off. “Why?” He questioned back, already on his way.

“Uh, Y/n ruined your grades.”

Y/n? Peter questioned in his head. You were the girl who was staring at him today. He remembered blushing at your stare, hoping you found him attractive, not this. He blinked multiple times in shock as he rolled down the stairs, taking his suit off in the process, and rushing out to the alleyway right next to the rooftop he was on before.

“I’ll be right there.” Peter rushed out, quickly hanging up and pushing his clothes on. His suit was stuffed back into his bag, and he stood back up, not bothering to zip it up completely.

Why would you do that? Peter questioned to himself, groaning. He barely interacted with you in the first place, since you two didn’t usually have classes together. Did you just have it out for him? He frowned at that, thinking the worst in you and Miss Riley.

He still needed to talk to Tony, especially now. What was he supposed to say? He had no idea. Maybe that his teacher and another student was out for him? It didn’t make much sense. He ran to the school fast, breathing heavily as he pushed through the doors of the school.

Random scattered people stared at him as he sped walked through the hallway, marching down to Miss Riley’s class, with Ned’s words replaying in his head. He sighed, seeing Ned resting against the wall, waiting for him. Peter shook his head back to him, not wanting him in the room as he slightly opened the door.

“Hello?” He called out nervously. He cursed himself in his head, wondering why he was acting like that. You swung the door wide open, hearing his voice, and your eyes popped open in shock.

Fuck.

You gulped in fear and anxiety as Peter stepped into the room, staring back and forth between you and Mandy. You glanced back at her, as she scampered, standing up. The three of you stood in an awkward silence as the door shut behind him.

Mandy was the first to speak up, as she strolled back to her desk. “Peter Parker, what brings you here?” She questioned, cringing at her voice being unnaturally high. You shook your head to her, feeling the guilt bubble in you as Peter frowned back to the both of you.

“I know what you did.” He spoke up, towards you. You flinched back slightly, furrowing your eyebrows together. You took a slight step closer though after that, crossing your arms back to him. What was he going to do? You barely hid back your laugh as the thought crossed your head. He wouldn’t do anything, he was supposed to be a superhero, right?

Mandy cocked her head to you, watching in confusion. “What did I do?” You shot back, almost innocently, nervously smiling to him.

He couldn’t prove anything. Peter rolled his eyes in irritation, feeling a wave of emotions rise in him. Mostly anger, because of how you were acting. But then also, confusion, thinking maybe Ned was wrong with what he heard. It didn’t make sense to Peter, why you changed his grades. “You messed with my grades?” Peter questioned back, almost unsure.

You glanced back to his hair, grinning when you noticed it was messy. You could see he was just out, doing his stupid duties. You glanced back to his bag, humming softly. Inside, you were just a mess. You wanted to say sorry, but at the same time you wanted to lecture him for being so dumb with the Spiderman stuff.

Mandy cleared her throat, gazing at Peter. “I think it’s time we all left.” She paused, wanting to leave this situation without anymore accusations. “My cousin never did anything of the sorts, now shoo. Both of you.” She finished up, glancing to you nervously.

Your eyes widened slightly at her slip up. He didn’t know you were related to her. It wasn’t even known at school, something you both didn’t care for others to know. She oohed at her mistake lightly, as Peter glanced back to her, angry.

“Cousins, huh?” He pushed out, shaking his head.

He didn’t understand why he was a target in this mess. He questioned himself, if he should just go to the principal right now and tell them what happened. That was what he should have done in the first place, he thought, biting his lip. “I should go.” He decided, turning back to the door, knowing now was the time to tell the administration.

“I know you’re Spiderman.” You blurted out, hand shooting out and grasping his, pulling him back. Mandy yelped out in disbelief, completely standing up. Peter stared at you as the color drained in his face.

“…Sauce, I need sauce for my burrito.” Your cousin muttered, out of her mind. She stared at the two of you, as you and Peter scoffed back at her. You dropped Peter’s hand, stepping forward to your cousin.

“Fuck the sauce!”

--

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[masqe]

plotted with @bokketo ( barney. )

Discovery takes weeks, and as one of the state attorney’s reliable, and yet expendable paralegals, Rebecca is kept busy by this case in particular, running back and forth through paperwork and case precedents, the prosecution having to pull every trick out of the bag to nail the accused. It was a big conviction for the state, bringing in the CEO of a multi-billion dollar weapons manufacturer whose company has been suspected for years for making a fraction of their revenue through black market dealings. While there had been initial evidence enough to bring the case to court, they were hit with roadblock after roadblock during the discovery process, ranging from abrasive defence lawyers, to inconsistent timelines, to uncooperative witnesses. Ultimately, after months of pooling their resources into this case, and what seemed to be a preliminary hearing that could have gone either way, it was canned with a motion to dismiss. 

Rebecca meets Bernard Barton during the first week of discovery. She’s bumped into all manner of people coming in to do pre-trial interviews --- as a paralegal, her job is mainly administrative, so she keeps her head down, does her work, (can’t really afford to do more than her allocated load which is already crushing), and gets the lowdown from her mentor later --- though she’s got a talent for making people and what she makes of “Barney” Barton is that he’s got a dangerously disarming smirk and was definitely up to no good, regardless of whether there was evidence to prove it or not. 

The first time she bumps into him is when she walks into his interview to drop off a file for her attorney. She meets his eye and loathe as she is to admit that any one person could cut through her defences with just one glance, that’s exactly what Barney does. The look he gives her is not fit for a federal office, and would be more at home in a dimly lit, intimate bar, and Rebecca has to tear her gaze away before she succumbs and does something stupid like return it. The second time they meet is a week later when he’s back for a review. She doesn’t have much of a break, not when she’s working just the morning and heading to class right after, but she might drop if she doesn’t get herself a cup of coffee before burying herself in precedents. He’s there, stirring his own cup of coffee, and she weaponises herself against that look with her ever present smile in acknowledgement, sidestepping around to grab a mug, (she’s not residential enough to get to keep her own so the general pool of mugs it has to be), and stepping around again to get to the coffee. Would it kill him to move out of the way? She doesn’t have much to say to a suspected accomplice to illegal weapons trafficking so she says nothing at all --- her father had taught her that much.

The third time she meets him is when all parties are filing out of court, the State nursing a bitter loss, though they would no doubt be filing for an appeal when they found the right circumstance to do it under. With the hearing ending an hour earlier, she has an hour to kill before heading to the university, so she makes a beeline to the hotdog cart a few blocks away from the district court. As she reaches into her handbag to bring out her wallet, something makes her look behind her. It was that look again, and she hates how utterly disarming it is. She’s not one to shy away from appreciating an attractive face, nor is she one to forgo asking a stranger about their day, but this is the first time a person has managed to make her feel so many things without so much as an uttered word, and it’s sent her for a spin. 

She clicks her tongue against her teeth, turning back to the cart only to realise there were two people standing in front of her. This is where she would normally make conversation with a semi-familiar face, and despite the spin she’s currently whirling in, that’s exactly what she decides to do. “Quite an impressive statement you gave in there, Mr Barton. You managed to talk for twenty straight minutes without saying anything at all.” 

Over the last two years of working as a paralegal at the District Attorney’s office, a stint that she’d clawed her way into and is halfway into regretting due to the sheer amount of work she has to balance between her accommodating hours and her course load, she’s had to watch many a guilty defendant walk free. It goes both ways --- the State doesn’t always get it right, and depending on who Rebecca is loaned out to, she’s dealt with small, individual cases and bigger, corporate cases like this. If she’s learnt anything from the last two years, it’s that anybody could be a criminal. They just haven’t been proven to be one yet. 

[notquiteaghost]

there’s nothing i wouldn’t do

mcu/hawkeye comics, post-avengers, barney&clint, 2k

inspired by this post

AO3 link in notes

He wasn’t expecting it to be a thing, is the problem.

Like, how often do aliens fucking invade New York? Once in a lifetime deal, it’s gotta be. Clint was busy — with having a hole in his chest, but SHIELD wouldn’t like him picking fights with run-of-the-mill mobsters, so it was, once again, up to Barney to step up and keep his baby brother safe. Hell, even if Clint could’ve got out his building without passing out, Barney still probably would’ve gone instead. Clint’s just a guy.

He had a plan, and it should’ve been simple. Bandana tied round his face, hair hidden under a beanie, and only Natasha’s gonna notice which Barton is actually slinging the arrows around, and Natasha’s well-aware of Clint’s stab wound. Murder all the aliens, sit through Coulson’s lecture on Clint’s behalf, hopefully their building’s still standing by the end of it. Hold it over Clint’s head until they die. Never, ever do it again.

Except.

He goes after the wannabe god, and the wannabe god can, obviously, control fucking minds, so then he shoots a shit ton of almost-entirely-innocent SHIELD employees. And then Natasha knocks him out of it and they all murder a shit ton of aliens, so hopefully SHIELD will cancel the shoot on sight order, but after all the aliens are dead, Tony goddamn Stark drags them all to get shawarma, and it’s not like Barney can say no. He can’t make Captain America think Clint’s an asshole.

And then, three days later, when Barney’s trying to explain to Coulson that, no, Clint is absolutely not going to fucking Russia, Clint can’t lift his arms, and also they’re still trying to get back the power in their building and also also as far as SHIELD is concerned it was Clint who got used as a puppet by a hostile alien and then bounced without any kind of medical eval so what is this actually about, because it sure as shit ain’t a human trafficking ring — three days later, his phone rings. Caller ID says Your New Sugar Daddy, so it’s Stark, so Barney hangs up on Coulson and answers it.

“Y’know, I could use some new shoes,” he says, throwing Clint’s phone on the couch when it immediately starts buzzing again. “What’re your terms? How much skin am I showing to get some new shoes?”

Stark splutters, but recovers within seconds and says, “Shoes are a titty pic at least,” and Barney is suddenly, sinkingly certain that him and Stark could be friends. It makes him shudder. 

He bites back the joke he wants to make about how many titty pics he gets to send before Stark stops buying him shoes, and says, “Titty pics ain’t why you’re calling, though.”

“Heard you’ve been having some apartment trouble,” Stark agrees, casually, like he has any way of knowing that that isn’t really fucking creepy. “Y’know, I have this great big tower. It’s got, amongst a lot of other things, an entirely self-sustaining power system.”

“…You want me to move in with you?”

“I’m just letting you know it’s an option, that’s all.”

Barney narrows his eyes. “Anyone else say yes?”

Stark huffs. “You’re first on my list, actually. Figured I’d start with the easiest, work my way up.”

Again, Barney bites his tongue. He cannot flirt with Tony Stark when Tony Stark thinks he’s his brother, no matter how funny it is. He’s sworn off starting shit with Clint since they got banned from Lithuania. “And what if I like my apartment?”

The briefest of pauses, before Stark says, “Then you keep living in your apartment. Again, just letting you know your options.”

“Pay to have the power lines for my block fixed,” Barney says, just as Clint stumbles out his room, “and maybe I’ll swing by for lunch. That’s what this is really about, yeah? Team building shit?”

“Wait, your block doesn’t have power?”

Clint is staring at him, eyes narrowing. He’s been awake maybe ten minutes, and it’s a coin toss if he’s remembered to put his aids in yet. Barney makes a face at him. “Half the damn city doesn’t have power, don’t you watch the news? Hell, ain’t people waving big signs outside your front door?”

“I’ve been—” Stark starts, then stops himself, then presumably remembers he’s trying to tempt Barney into some kinda morning-cartoons perma-sleepover and that’s gonna require some emotional vulnerability, and says, “Been in the workshop, mostly. The suit didn’t cope so well in the vacuum of space. But, yeah, power, I can do power. Text me about lunch.”

“Only if Captain America’s there, too,” Barney says, then hangs up. Clint’s eyes are even narrower. He’s gonna give himself a headache. “What?”

“Were you talking to Tony Stark?”

“Yeah, he wants me to move in with him.”

“He wants me to move in with him,” Clint counters.

“Hey, I’m the one who actually fought the aliens, kid—”

“I was all for fighting the aliens! You ziptied me to the bed!”

“And that you couldn’t get out of those makes it clear you were in no shape for fighting the aliens.” Barney walks into the kitchen, digs through their pile of homecooked food — you showing up on TV saving the world makes everyone want to cook you things, it turns out — for Clint’s pain meds. Clint leans against the wall and looks pitiful.

“Maybe I wanna live with Tony Stark,” he says. Barney laughs, hands Clint the tablets and the water so his hands are free to talk.

“Thought you were gonna die in this shithole. Thought, next time anyone shoots you, you were gonna demand they carry you back here so you can bleed out on the floor since getting the blood out’ll be someone else’s problem.”

“Bet Stark’s eyesore of a tower’s got power, though.”

“And soon,” Barney assures him, “so will we.”

Clint shuffles back to the couch and flops over it, and almost hides his wince at the feelings his stab wound has about that. “Bet Stark’s tower’s got heated floors. Stupid fast internet. Bet he’s got chefs and cleaners and everything.”

Barney always forgets how being hurt makes Clint into a five year-old again. “If some stranger tried to clean your room, you would stab them.” Clint sticks his tongue out.

Then he jumps, because Barney’s phone is buzzing again. Got his aids in, then.

It’s a text, this time, from an unknown number.

???: Stark tells me you’ll only come out to play if I come out too - Steve

“Holy shit,” Barney says, “Captain America is texting me.”

“What the fuck,” Clint pushes himself up, “Give me the phone. Give me the phone! He’s texting me!”

“Again,” Barney says, typing complete nonsense so Clint hears the tapping noise, “it was me who he bonded with when we murdered a load of aliens together, he has no idea who you are.”

“Barney. He’s Captain America.”

Goddammit, that fucking whine. He throws Clint his phone.

Then stands behind him to watch him type.

You: he ain’t exactly my usual kinda buddy

You: appreciate the thing with the missile obviously but also i don’t think he pays taxes?

Clint backspaces four times to change his terrible text speak for actual words. It’s hilarious. 

steve!!!!: He fucking better.

You: if you yell at him about this please film it

You: i promise not to put it online i just want it playing on a loop in my apartment

steve!!!!: He says ‘Excuse me of course I pay taxes, I have to get rid of all this money somehow’

steve!!!!: I’m double-checking with Miss Potts.

You: did shield just give you the phone numbers of the entire population of new york

steve!!!!: No, I think it’s only 30%.

You: oh shit do you have fury’s number

steve!!!!: Strangely, no.

You: dammit

You: one day

“You are definitely the reason Fury didn’t give Captain America his personal cell number,” Barney says. Clint shoves at him. 

steve!!!!: Not planning on moving into Stark’s place, then?

You: think living somewhere that expensive would give me a rash

You: don’t tell shield this but i stole my apartment from the mob

“Oh my God Clint they are definitely reading his texts,” Barney groans.

You: hey uh unrelated but anyone give you an update on opsec

Clint glares at him, pointedly, then makes a truly inhuman noise when he reads Steve’s next reply.

steve!!!!: Is that an offer?

“Oh my fucking God I’m gonna become best friends with Captain America,” Clint says, low and reverent.

Barney rolls his eyes. “He still thinks he’s talking to me.”

“So? You wore a mask and shit, he won’t notice.”

“You are so fucking injured. He will definitely notice.”

“Okay, then you wear a wire, and I tell you what to say—”

Barney snatches the phone back, types out ‘hell yeah let’s get a drink, when you free?’, then locks it and tucks it away. Clint is fully pouting.

“I’m going out,” Barney reminds him. “Coulson wants you in Russia, I’m gonna find out the fuck why. Amuse yourself for a while, you can keep flirting with Captain America when I get back.”

“If you really loved me you’d wear a wire,” Clint huffs. Barney ruffles his hair and goes to find his jacket.

–––––––––––––––

“Explain to me again,” Coulson says, exasperated in a way Barney’s more used to seeing directed at Clint, “why you thought pretending to be Clint was in any way a good plan.”

Usually, they have chats like these in some pretentious hipster place, where all the drinks have dumb names and cost twenty bucks a pop, but for obvious reasons that’s not happening. So, they’re in a park, miraculously untouched. There’s a flock of pigeons going at what looks like some bodega’s entire stock of bread.

“Clint was stabbed doing something SHIELD don’t need to know about; SHIELD didn’t tap me for the Avengers, ‘cause they still think I’d sell them all out for the right price; aliens were invading New York; I live in New York and I didn’t have any other plans.”

Coulson pinches at the bridge of his nose. He for sure agrees Barney made the right call, given the givens, and he will for sure die before he ever admits it. Barney is the reason the wannabe god didn’t stab him through the chest, though, so Barney is gonna try and make him admit it.

“You don’t have clearance to know about the Avengers.”

“Half the world knows about the Avengers, we were on every news channel there is.”

“Prior to the Chitauri invasion,” Coulson says, exasperation ticking up a notch, “you did not have clearance to know about the Avengers Initiative. SHIELD already don’t trust you, and now you’ve been compromised by a hostile alien with unknown motivations and allegiances—”

“Which is why SHIELD’s gotta keep thinking it was Clint,” Barney agrees, “‘cause they'll just straight up shoot me.”

Coulson sighs, heavily. But he doesn’t disagree.

“Going forward, then,” he says. “Are you going to continue to be Hawkeye?”

“I kinda really thought the alien invasion was a one-time thing. You telling me we’re expecting more aliens?”

“Not with any certainty,” which is Coulson for ‘yeah, probably’. “But I, for one, would rather we were prepared. And with the way some things are going, the Avengers may be needed for purely Earth-based disputes.”

“You get superheroes, you’re asking for supervillains?”

“Unfortunately.”

Barney lets out a long breath. It should be hilarious, that some idiot might actually pull on a cape and a dumb mask and try to take over the world, but he just got done stopping the last idiot, and they’re still pulling out the bodies. Morning cartoons never have collateral damage.

“I gotta talk to Clint,” he says. “He’d be better at it, but he’s been muttering about bouncing from SHIELD lately. Taking it real personal that you don’t trust me, who’d’ve thunk it.”

“I trust you,” Coulson says, lightly. Barney rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, no shit. Look, I’ll go to Russia, but someone’s gotta babysit Clint while I’m gone. I’m sick of the fucker pulling his stitches.”

“I don’t know who’s going to be there to meet you—”

“This ain’t the first mission I’ve run in Clint’s place.”

Coulson blinks. Huh, Barney had honestly thought he knew about that. “Well,” he says, “then you leave bright and early tomorrow morning. Try not to get in too much trouble, would you?”

Barney grins, trademark Barton asshole. “No promises.” 

[21-torpedo-salvo]

Cylinder-fed

You hope it isn’t obvious how closely you’ve been watching him. You hope your line of sight is obscured by the stale mug of coffee you drink deeply from, that the fog on your lenses is enough to distract from you tracking him in your periphery. Yet, despite the anxiety, the fear of being caught, you cannot bring yourself to look away. This was your first time seeing him in a lab, after all, and the difference was… startling, to say the least.

You knew, on some level, that he was more than hot air, but his bastard-like demeanor compelled you to discount him on principle. He was abrasive and cruel at times, wielding his words with a sharper intelligence than your second other, and that did not completely go away as he rounded on Dr. Magnusson with a vengeance. Your eyes linger on the way his muscles bulge underneath the lab coat, the white fabric pulled taut as he gesticulates broadly at a whiteboard.

Eventually, he ceases shouting, quieted by a smug contentment curling his scarred lips into a smile. He takes his scattered array of papers into his arms and leaves, but his eyes narrow on you, tension snapping back into his frame. He stalks toward you, purposeful and intent. You feel lightheaded with how the world suddenly locks back into place.

“Hey, hey, what are you lookin’ at? You’ve been staring at me all day, Freeman. What’s with that?”

You flounder for an answer. Of course he’d have noticed-- he was paranoia given body. And you didn’t bother to think of a liable excuse, so now you’re just staring at him, throat burning with the aftereffects of a too-big gulp of coffee.

“Oh, I get it,” Freemind says, eyes sparkling. “You want a piece of me. You think I’m hot when you’re not calling me an insufferable asshole, right?”

“You’re a dick,” you sign, suddenly exasperated. Paranoid and egotistical. How could you forget?

“And yet,” Freemind laughs. “So what have you been working on, Freeman?”

You step back as Freemind shifts his weight, conspicuously arranging his broad frame across your one exit. Your mind flashes to the crowbar slung at your hip, hidden beneath the lab coat, and the gun hanging heavy in your right pocket. There’s a dozen different solutions to your entrapment itching at your fingertips but you execute none of them, opting instead to stare blankly ahead, wound up like a snake.

It works, after a time. Freemind has the grace to look apologetic-- or something approximate-- as he leans to the side, arms crossed against his chest. His brow is still cocked expectantly, but his expression is softer. You relax.

“We’re still working on long-distance teleportation,” you say carefully. “It’s easier now that we have a target. But the recipient is using a Combine teleporter that they’re having trouble with.”

“That’s a shame. I’m guessin’ that’s what Alyx got roped into working on?” Freemind asks. “Man, we were havin’ fun stealing antlion grubs.”

You shrug noncommittally. You think the friendship he and Alyx have is strange when Freemind can barely interact with Barney. Besides, she was far more useful teaching the rest of humanity Combine tech than messing with antlions.

“Even less talkative today, then,” Freemind says after you fail to respond. “Well, I’ve got shit to do. See ya.”

With that, Freemind leaves, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck as he goes. You watch him walk past his desk and out of the lab entirely. Yet, before he’s out of sight, he twists on his heel and flashes a sign at you. The universal gesture for “follow.”

You take a deep breath. Did Freemind look disappointed just before he left? Did he want you to elaborate on your work? No, it couldn’t be that. He already knew your work-- he made it a point to keep up on it, even as he focused on something else entirely. Something else was up. You wanted to know what.

Leaving your coffee behind, you gather up your things and make for the door, pushing your glasses up your nose as you do. Freemind is lingering at the end of the hall, chatting loudly to a guard. When he sees you, he claps their shoulder and disappears around the bend, forcing you to chase after him. Somehow, he manages to always stay just out of sight. You’re following his raucous voice more than his ponytail.

He strings you along the network of guards stationed throughout White Forest. You pass the cafeteria, where you see him walking out with a handful of headcrab jerky, a strip dangling from his mouth. He flashes you a toothy snarl rather than a smile as he forges on, back into the complex. You wonder why the hell you’re following him.

It’s not like you care about his antics. He’s mean, unruly toward even Dr. Kleiner, and does things that would have gotten him arrested should things like formal law still exist. He’s not even that pretty-- musclebound, sure, and tall, with a mouth full of sharp teeth he won’t share the story about. Maybe he has a pretty green eye, but so did you, and if you keep thinking about this you’re going to feel like one hell of a narcissist.

Maybe that was your problem. You were just a narcissist.

So deep in your thinking, you hardly notice that the trail’s gone dry-- superheated into nothingness by Freemind’s presence. He’s lounging on a bench, a revolver in his hand-- empty, if the row of bullets arranged nearby are any indicator-- and belt already undone.

You stare, bewildered. He doesn’t seem to notice you as he shucks off his lab coat and folds it neatly on the other end of the bench, laying it over the discarded shells. The shirt he’s wearing is a little small, riding up to reveal his stomach with just the leaning motion.

Then he talks.

“Good job! On following me this far, that is. Honestly, I’m a little surprised you even did,” he says, smiling. “I’ve got a proposition for you. Well, not even that. I had this wicked dream last night that’s been bothering me all day. Do you want to help me out?”

Huh. Wait, huh?

You try to say something, but mostly just wave your hands around, signs aborted before even coming to fruition. In the end, you just gesture at him forcefully, hoping the heat in your face isn’t noticeable.

To your surprise, Freemind seems to take pause, chewing on his bottom lip in the way he does when he’s doubtful on something. Then he licks his lip, gnawing on the inside of his cheek before apparently finding his words, eye flicking up to pin you down.

“I—” Freemind raises the revolver by the barrel, waving the butt-- “am going to use this to get off. You’re welcome to watch, if you want. That’s how the dream went.”

Oh.

You’re not sure what else you were expecting. You stare at each other for a long moment, the silence suddenly thick and tense.

“If you don’t want to watch, then you can leave. I am going to get myself off right here no matter what you choose, though, so… Your loss, really,” Freemind finishes.

With that, he raises his hips, sliding his pants down until they bunched around his ankles. You’re more surprised than you should be by the fact that he’s gone commando, and is apparently already soaked, if the state of his cunt is anything to go by. He makes a low sound as he takes the head of his dick and rolls it beneath his thumb.

“I’ll stay,” you sign, though you’re unsure why because he’s already gotten this far and you haven’t left yet. He knows you’re staying-- he knows it because he’s arching his back and exposing more of his hips and grinning at you luridly beneath hooded eyes.

Freemind doesn’t stifle a groan as he slides his free hand further down, shoving his fingers without preamble into his cunt. He shifts his hips, settling forward so that they sink deeper inside him, tongue hanging past his lips as they move wordlessly.

Your face is burning. Your hands shake as you slip off your own lab coat, letting it fall gracelessly onto the floor around your feet. This wasn’t how you were expecting your day to go, but you’re also not against it. Freemind looks good, fucking himself on his fingers. He even looks relaxed.

When Freemind removes his hand, it’s coated. He licks it clean, slipping his tongue between his fingers, saliva glinting in strings off his tongue and lips. A dark flush has started to creep across his neck, darkest where his Adam’s apple bobs up and down. His shirt rides further up his torso, exposing skin marred by HEV lines and old scars.

“You look like you want to help,” Freemind says roughly. “Or touch yourself. Ohh, I’d love that. You should touch yourself, Freeman, while you watch me get off. That’d be hot.”

Your hands tighten into fists, twisting up the fabric of your pants. You do think about touching yourself-- about fishing your cock out from your pants and bringing it up to full hardness, about finishing on Freemind’s face while he fucks himself on his revolver, while he says stupid shit-- oh, you could shut him up for once, if he just put his mouth on you.

“Don’t be shyyy about it,” Freemind drawls. “Come on. I can see your cock. Those pants don’t hide much, Freeman.”

Your skin prickles with something like irritation. Roughly, you unzip your pants and yank them down, boxers and all. Your dick is already plenty hard-- standing at attention, leaning a little to the left, flushed pink. Freemind whistles.

“Touch yourself,” Freemind says, and it sounds like a command. “And don’t take your eyes off me. Eyes up.”

You wrap your hand-- tough, calloused, scarred-- around the base of your dick, squeezing gently. You do look at him, much to your chagrin, and gape openly at the sight. He’s got the gun grasped by the barrel, the grip wedged between his legs. There’s a practiced ease in how he slots the weapon in himself-- a relieved, desperate sort of sound that leaks out of him as he pushes it further inside.

“That’s it,” he grunts. “Eyes on me. Follow my lead, Freeman.”

Using the bench as a stabilizer, Freemind rocks himself over the handle, thighs visibly trembling with the effort. He’s shameless in his motions, making them full-bodied, and unabashed with his noises. It seems he’s vocal, no matter what he’s doing.

The thought makes you stroke yourself faster. You take a step toward him, shuffling so as to not trip over your own pants. When he doesn’t stop you, you continue to approach, fixated on how red his lips are against white teeth.

“This is even better than the dream,” Freemind moans.

The gun seems to disappear deeper inside him with every rock. Freemind moves faster, chasing the rush of impending orgasm with a vengeance. His expression is twisted, face flushed with exertion.

Your own pace is growing erratic. Follow his pace, indeed-- you reach out to grab his head and dig your fingers into his scalp, eager to hold onto something that isn’t yourself for balance. It brings your hips to eye-level; you make a show of thrusting into your fist.

“Oh, much better,” Freemind says thickly. “Look at you... You’re that hard for me. Looks like I’m not the only narcissist here, eh?”

How can he talk so much? You growl in the back of your throat and grab a fistful of his hair. His confidence turns into shock as you grind your cock against his cheek, smearing pre-cum into his beard and eyepatch. Then he grins, a shark’s caricature, and licks a stripe up to the tip of your dick.

He takes it into his mouth of his own accord. You thrust forward, not wanting to give him time to adjust but he adapts to it, slackening his jaw and following your meter exactly. His eye rolls back at one point, a muffled, heinous moan sending vibrations to the base of your cock as he grows overwhelmed by you and the gun in his cunt.

So badly you wish to talk, but your throat doesn’t make noise, so you dig your fingernails into his scalp and keep his head in place. The bench creaks ominously as Freemind moves even faster, eye screwing shut, so close to climax. He seems to gag a little, your rhythms’ falling out of sync, but still he doesn’t stop.

You’re getting close yourself-- you can feel it, coiling tight in your belly. Your muscles are aching from holding yourself like this, but you ignore it. Freemind’s mouth is hot and wet and finally silent as he sucks you off. Looking down on him, he looks utterly blissed out, and that fact alone is enough to make you cum.

Your only warning to him is a broken keen and erratic thrusts down his throat. Judging by how he grabs onto your hips, fingernails dragging into the flesh, he must have already came himself-- and is eagerly swallowing yours, mewling as he does so. When you finish, he slides his mouth off with a wet pop.

Excess spit dribbles past his lip and hangs from a string between your cock. It snaps a second later, becoming a glistening wet trail down his chin. Panting heavily, Freemind leans against the wall, the gun laid flat beside him.

Messy, is the only thing you can think. And way too fucking good. You grab his shoulder as you drop down onto the bench beside him, squeezing tightly the muscle there.

“That,” Freemind starts, “was fucking perfect.”

You snort, but nod in agreement.

He turns to look at you. His expression is… unreadable, an unfamiliar sight. It’s softer, maybe. You realize why when he leans in close and presses a short kiss to your mouth.

“Thanks, Freeman,” he murmurs. “Let’s try that again sometime.”

You nod, caught off-guard.