#the way they lift each other up but still have individual development…it’s everything

[mouthlessmaiden]

Cliff and Jane in the first and last issue of Grant Morrison’s Doom Patrol

[physalian]

What No One Tells You About Writing #6

This round we’re doing some recent discoveries on my writing journey. Some are less groundbreaking and more “I did not expect this to become an issue” things, which, hey no one told me about them, either.

Part 5

Part 4

Part 3

1. Switching tenses between your WIPs is not easy

Up until my upcoming book (Eternal Night of the Northern Sky, go check it out) I wrote exclusively in past-tense with very rare exception save for a fanfic here and there. I cannot remember what compelled me to write ENNS in present tense, but I’d committed and 10k words in, there was no going back to change it.

Committing in the first place made it very frustrating trying to actively remember my English verb tenses and sentence structures (and I am a native English speaker) that just have not come naturally to me in 8 years of writing, but once I got it, I got it.

So while waiting around during the editing process and trying to go back to past-tense for another project, past-tense started to look janky and awkward and my WIPs, too, are now written in present-tense. I am undecided on how to feel about this beyond annoyed that it is a problem.

2. Implied sex scenes have surprising pros and cons

I’m of the belief that sex scenes, like action scenes, should serve a purpose and do a lot of heavy lifting. It’s not just the actual progression of movement between the characters, it’s the exploration of trust and vulnerability, the consummation of a relationship, the growth of these two characters together with a new understanding (if this is meant to be a huge moment and not, like, an establishing one-night stand). Otherwise it becomes gratuitous fluff.

Enter the problem: I cannot write all the character development that occurs during a sex scene, if I cannot also write the sex. All of that newly broken ground on trust and gushy emotions has to come in the buildup before I decide to cut away and in skipping the rest of that scene, I have to essentially freeze the character development until I pick up the narrative again in the aftermath.

So if it’s a moment that’s meant to be the climax of two characters trusting each other, or anything that would require them talking through this important milestone in their relationship, I have to rework everything around the redacted narrative.

Sex scenes are just so unique that way. People can be very sensitive about them, they’re very tricky to get right, very revealing about what the author thinks is sexy and attractive, incredibly important relationship milestones for the characters, and, aside from torture or extremely graphic violence, the only scenes you ‘fade to black’ on and leave it up to wild imagination.

*OP why don’t you just bite the bullet and write the sex? Because I want to be an inclusive author and you’ll enjoy my book even without sex to go write your own, but you might not read it if it’s on the page because of personal taste or triggers or beliefs, okay?

3. Your crutch words will haunt you

Here is a list of 40 of them. I will never be the kind of author that struggles to make my stories longer. To everyone who does, I wish I had your problems—trying to trim the fat off a narrative already running at breakneck speed demands trimming individual words off sentences sometimes. Like crutch words.

These carry over from real-world conversation, words we don’t always realize we’re relying on. My big one is “just”. I had a 125k word manuscript and had over 600 instances of “just” and maybe only a dozen were warranted by the time the ax fell.

Good news is, once you see them and embarrass yourself finding, replacing and/or deleting them, you become very aware of them in your writing. Crutch words are a lot like cursing, which I talked about in Part 5—not including them doesn’t leave a big of a crater in the dialogue as you might think. I still use “just” and “so” but “so” is worked into my writing style as a syntactical element and I tend to leave my “so’s” in place. “Just,” on the other hand, can be cut 99% of the time.

*Disclaimer, those dozen “justs” I ended up keeping in that manuscript were all in dialogue, because while the narrative should be clean of crutch words, personally I think keeping them as your characters’ crutch words can make them feel more human.

4. Breaking up dialogue-heavy scenes with movement can get tedious

This is entirely dependent on writing style. Some books will have entire unbroken paragraphs of dialogue, make a new paragraph, and keep going with the same unbroken dialogue. Some will split a monologue up with character movement or reaction to whatever’s being said. Some authors are very frugal with dialogue tags (to varying levels of success) and some over-describe the movement of their characters or use way too many superfluous tags when “said” is not actually dead, your primary education lied.

Just keep in mind that writing is, well, written. The intonation of words might be completely lost in translation if you slap your reader with a wall of text, especially in an important character moment, and they have a critical misunderstanding in how they’re supposed to perceive the line being delivered.

This is why we use italics for emphasis. We’re still trying to legitimize the interobang (!?) because it’s very useful, and we’re very far from legitimizing Tumblr Speak to convey sarcasm and sincerity. How we convey tone is generally isolated to the generation we grew up in and the technology we had available (like how younger generations interpret ellipses compared to their parents).

There’s that Tumblr post out there that goes: “I never said she stole my money,” and claims that the meaning behind the denial changes wildly depending on which word you stress, seven different ways—and that person is absolutely right.

Every dialogue-heavy scene is a case-by-case basis, and best advice I can give is to have your betas pay extra attention to those scenes, making sure they interpret it right, or even having someone read the dialogue back to you with inflection to make sure you’re tagging and describing it properly.

Too many breaks for narrative and you risk clogging up the scene. Not enough and you lose a lot of the emotion behind their words when you aren’t describing how the speaker is visually reacting to what they’re saying.

5. Truth really is stranger than fiction

Maybe it’s the capitalist hellscape we all find ourselves in, but for example: If you told me someone wrote a book about a submersible, built for tours to the Titanic wreck, and was dubbed “Titan,” run by a company called OceanGate, failed via catastrophic implosion on its descent to the most infamous maritime disaster in history, infamous for its hubris as the “unsinkable ship,” only to find out that the company with “-Gate” in its name circumvented and ignored multiple regulations and expert opinions…. I’d call that the most contrived and lazy attempt at a criticism of human folly I’ve ever seen.

And that sh*t really happened. Titanic is already almost mythical for its hubris. The engineer of that ship stared God in the face and said bet, and lost. Then you have the same damn incident happen a century later, for the same damn reasons.

Truth might not be ‘stranger’ than fiction, perhaps as equally contrived, equally unbelievable, and can reach equal amounts of astounding stupidity. Anyone, anywhere, for the rest of literary history, can no longer say “that deus/diablo ex machina would never happen” because it can. It did.

6. You’ll find inspiration everywhere, but have nowhere to put it

Deciding what kind of story you want to tell takes so many layers, it deserves its own post that has been covered plenty else by other writers over the years but since I write fantasy and sci-fi, my inspiration usually starts with “I want to write a story about X fantasy element” and I go from there. Then the sub-genre, like if it’ll be an adventure, urban fantasy, high fantasy, what time period, etc. Then the theme.

If I’ve got my laptop close, I can polish off a whole first chapter in maybe two hours. And then… it gets dumped into my “stalled projects” folder, to be saved, but moved aside so it doesn’t clutter the workspace of WIPs I’m actually invested in.

Sometimes they’ll get revisited, sometimes my enthusiasm wanes as quickly as it came on. It can get disappointing and discouraging, but if anyone ever met your “I want to be a writer” with skepticism, or you yourself fear that you’ll be a one-trick pony in a creative slump forever: The inspiration probably isn’t the issue, it’s committing to the story you dreamt up.

7. Just because it never gets published, doesn’t mean it doesn’t have value

My writing journey began with original works back in middle school, then I gravitated toward fanfic once I discovered it and got a huge confidence boost from all the positive feedback from my readers, then felt restricted by my fandoms and switched back to original works. The very first novel I started out with was my sci-fi WIP, eight years ago, that will likely never see the light of day as it was written. I have two completed books that could be self-published right now.

The problem: Book three, of a planned five, generated a “deleted scenes” pile that quickly outpaced the word count of the actual manuscript because I cannot seamlessly fit every arc of my ensemble cast when and how I want them to happen. And, as previously mentioned, those 8-year-old characters have suffered me using them as writing therapy, and some elements have gotten far darker and more convoluted than I intended, because the worldbuilding pool got way deeper than a book with an ensemble cast can support.

But even if it never gets published, it’s not worthless. Those two books sprinted so I could jog. They were so detailed and so complex and had so many layers that starting over in a different genre with something simpler like ENNS was a breeze. I’d cut my teeth on a narrative that demanded an insane amount of behind-the-scenes production that nothing else would ever be as hard.

Not everyone will have that experience, but if you’ve saved all your old and cringey works from your early days, go back and read them and compare them to where you are now, and hopefully you realize that you’re turning into the author you thought you would be, even if you’re not quite there yet.

Now go write your insane mega-hit waiting to happen.

—

Upcoming blog topics!

Tackling beginnings and endings

Why we should normalize content warnings

Crutch tropes #2 - "we're not so different"

[bandomfandombeyond]

just watched Love Lies Bleeding, the newest A24 film, I have so many thoughts,,,,,

the movie's language is very well developed, and the editing is primo. sound design was also spectacular. A+ production overall.

In a more official review, David Rooney of The Hollywood Reporter called it, "a lesbian neo-noir drenched in brooding nightscapes, violent crime, and more hardcore KStew cool than has ever been packaged in such a potent concentrate."

genuinely, I'd say it's Thelma & Louise meets The Sopranos, a true film, not just a movie. a film we didn't know we had been waiting for.

spoilers ahead!!

if you decide you might want to watch it based on this review, I'd say avoid or be mindful if you get squicked and/or triggered by excellently wrought gay sex scenes, off screen and after match depictions of domestic violence, on screen domestic violence, mouth gore (no really, MOUTH. GORE.), vomit, guns and gun violence, or a homophobe punching a bisexual after she punched him for putting his hands on her. There are also a few depictions of altered states of consciousness and reality, one displayed as active hallucinations which narratively imply that anabolic steroids (essentially testosterone shots) create violent people who don't think about the consequences of their actions and black-out rage to kill others, while ALSO implying that hallucinations and delusions lead people to violence,,, ,,, ,,, And the other is just... subtle enough for most of the film until. surprise! giantess unbirth fetish bait at the end!

if that still sounds like it might be intriguing to you, keep reading :p

this movie has Kristen Stewart doing her sad twitchy sewer rat queer vibe to great effect, breakout star Katy M. O'Brian playing a bodybuilding nomad whose individual character arc is somehow giving gender and hate crime depending on the lens applied, butch 4 futch (argue w/ ur mama, Jackie is a bisexual futch) and butch 4 femme (although 4 is doing a lot of heavy lifting in this one-way dynamic) and (not so) incidental mob intrigue

and as far as aesthetics: it's set at the tail end of the 80s, so we have a delightful mesh of Kristen Stewart's oily 90s twinkdyke and Katy O'Brian's oiled-up 80s femme bodybuilder. howevrrr,,,

I'm not sure how to feel positively about the bait and switch of there being two clearly defined villains (the murderous mob boss father and the sister's abusive husband) having a diversion into the land of "this pillow princess femme who wants romance and a connection with the only other queer person in town is suddenly also a villain". I can see the potential transphobic underlying themes implied by depicting a masculinely gender non-conforming bisexual woman over-dosing "steroids" (testosterone) and turning her into a violent, delusional person who is even in narrative called a "monster" and told never to contact her family again (a very trans moment), especially when juxtaposed with the soft, effeminate, poor cis femme of dubious, unreliable-narrator-proclaimed straightness being an ongoing/foreshadowed minor antagonist in the storyline who manipulates the situation and main character to her advantage, and gets killed for it, but ultimately doesn't exist to do more than create tension between, and be a threat to, the main characters' relationship and the story's plot.

BUT! I do think it was thematically appropriate to finally make the relationship between Jack & Lou equal as a bow to tie the story together.

I enjoyed the film, I enjoyed the composition, I was more riveted to the screen than my ADHD ass usually managed when vegging out on the couch. it's everything I want from a movie where everyone involved ends up worse as a person after meeting each other

I'm just looking at it now with my AP English critical consumption skills and wondering if, maybe, queer communities in general, and the trans & lesbian communities specifically, are not currently enjoying the solidarity-filled political climate that would allow this movie to avoid potentially coming across as, well, a bit unknowingly biphobic and transphobic, even as a queer film, what with one of our main characters being depicted as loving her girlfriend "despite" her having had sex with men, and especially when the main pair get their "happy ending" at the cost of another queer person's life.

Maybe in 30-40 years.

VERDICT: polyamory (and solidarity over self-interest) could have saved this movie's 2nd half for focusing on the real villain: the cops and cop-lovers who were using their power to get away with disenfranchising people with escalating violence and abuse.

If you've also watched Love Lies Bleeding, or you know more about the context around the film, or you just like talking about meta analysis, please let me know what you think!

[infiinitys]

thecryptidcottage:

          hands brush away topsoil onto the well-worn denim against his thighs as footfalls on the stone path through the garden catch his attention ; he likes to keep track of the comings and going of visitors to the railway rooftop, less out of concern for the plants and more out of sheer curiosity for the strangers coming through. there’s something about the wonder in their eyes at the sight of such a lush oasis of green tucked away in a concrete jungle, it almost makes the gardener wonder at times if it’s the first real look some folks in london have gotten at nature. but it’s not wonder in anyone else’s eyes but his own as lindsay looks toward the sound of soles against pavement and lets his eyes wander upward until they’re blessed to settle on a familiar face. and christ, it’s all so silly isn’t it ? how quickly he’s thrown back into primary school, all nervous smiles and butterflies and stuttered sentences when jace is around, when he looks at him in just the right way, like a child with a painful crush. ( but no, he’s a full-grown adult, isn’t he, with the same heart-racing affliction ? ) it’s enough to make him feel bashful if he thinks on it for too long, so he doesn’t, instead rising to his feet and fixing jace with a smile he couldn’t help even if he tried.

          ❝ hello yerself, ❞ lindsay replies, and there’s a gentle lilt to the greeting that belies what a pleasant surprise it is to see him. ( he’d be a liar to say he hadn’t only just been thinking about the academic, the way he’d had his hair pulled back when last they spoke, a few stray, dark curls slipping from the elastic to frame his face. his eyes. and for a second, when their hands had touched, and lindsay’s heart had skipped a beat... ) the corners of his gaze crinkle in something akin to fondness, endearment, at the mention of flowers on the brain, a concept lindsay is all too familiar with. ❝ oh ? ❞ he inquires, mindful of his tone that the monosyllabic question doesn’t come out too high-pitched or sharp ; he is a very normal amount of curious about this development. his brows are a different story ; with a mind of their own, they lift toward a silver-streaked hairline. goddamn it, lindsay, control yer face, he chides himself silently, and then he’s smiling again, gaze finding the ever-present warmth of his companion’s as he searches for a better question to ask than then one lingering on the tip of his tongue. ❝ did ye go to the little shop just up the way over there ? i pass by every day on my way in here, they’ve, erm ― they’ve always got the cutest plant puns up on the letterboard in the window. ❞

𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐃 a normal life, for it seemed that his mind was valued more than his heart. None of this was the fault of his family -- who had been devoted and proud of every one of his accomplishments. Even after his departure from the FBI, that support had certainly never dissipated. Even still, he had been deprived of this feeling, experiencing such care for another person that the thought of something happening to them makes you feel like you will crumble right with them. It had certainly taken time, perhaps the occasional sleepless night for the academically intelligent male to put the pieces together, but he stood before Lindsay perhaps the most honest with himself he's ever been. But not honest enough to say the words that could change everything. Seeing the man in his natural element seems to warm Jace's heart towards the other even more if that is even possible. Something in him is proud to be associated with an individual putting so much love and care into such a pocket of natural luxury, and he hopes that those who pass by can feel it radiating from each exhibit.

His greeting certainly causes Jace's shoulders to lower, the initial stress of the day becoming a distant memory. Even if this solution was temporary, following the likeness of any other vice, it would be without the lingering grogginess or inevitable hangover. Instead, he would be a reminder of something better than what his occupation had caused him to see. What it had caused him to experience. It is in the moment after Lindsay responds with the single word that he realizes that he has neglected to tell him who the flowers are for, they could be for a partner for all he knew.. perhaps he can use this to this advantage, he first thinks. They were for his mother, who had recently relocated to a home closer to her son. He had made a promise to her at a very young age that no matter what, he would always find a way to show her just how grateful he was for all the work she had done to keep them afloat. "I sure did... they've certainly got a superior marketing team." Not exactly the greatest conversation starter, Jace. "They have a beautiful selection too... nothing as heavenly as this, but certainly quite stunning." He removed his phone from his pocket before pulling up a photograph of the bouquet he had sent to his cousin. "Lillies. My mother's favorite."

[ceo-of-daichi]

Pairing | Sawamura Daichi x Fem!Teacher!Reader

WC | 1.7k+

A/N | So this was actually a request a got a while ago from my good friend @honeybunny-sawamura, however I didn’t have any ideas and I lost motivation to write when she originally sent it! But I know she is feeling down lately and I got an idea🥺 I hope you enjoy bby and it cheers you up in some way! (also thank you to @valravna for giving this a once over before I posted ily)

Tip-Jar☕️ | Navi | Karasuno Masterlist

TW | Unprotected sex, oral (fem!recieving), pet names ‘Bunny’, ‘Baby’ and ‘Babygirl’, pussy slapping (only 2 though and they are lil slaps), uses of the name ‘daddy’ (its daichi i mean are you surprised), breeding kink, he fucks you on a desk in a classroom.

If there was one word you could use to describe your work, it would be stressful. You loved teaching, you loved the kids and watching them grow as individuals.

But sometimes it felt like you were talking to thirty brick walls. It could be hard to get their attention, keep them from distracting each other and keep them learning.

Without screaming… Which was getting harder as the day went on.

The kids were particularly rowdy today and you were at the end of your tether when you finally handed the last of them off to their parents. Your smile dropped into a deep sigh as you closed your classroom door, finally alone.

Peace.

Your eyes scanned the room, discarded crayons and paper from the earlier activities littered the floor. You took some time, carefully tidying and making sure everything was set up for the next day, at least it was Friday tomorrow.

No rowdy kids for a whole two days. Heaven.

Looking towards the door, you couldn’t help but wish to be going home. You wanted nothing more than to be curled up on the couch in your newlywed husband's arms.

But the stack of papers on your desk required a bit more of your attention, the kids had just got to the age of starting to write, meaning you had a lot more correcting than at the start of the year.

When you eventually lifted your eyes from the slowly depleting pile of papers in front of you, it was due to a knock at the door. It took a second for your brain to catch up, looking towards the clock on the wall you realised it was almost 10pm.

Had you really been sitting there for that long?

“Bunny?” A familiar deep voice calls from the other side of the door, you felt the tension already start to dissipate as you realise who it was.

“You can come in, baby…” The minute you start talking he has already opened the door and strode the short distance to your desk.

Daichi could tell you were completely burnt out, but knowing you as well as he did, he also knew that you wouldn’t leave the room until you were fully ready for tomorrow.

“You know how late it is right? I made us food, but I ate mine because I realised it would be a while before you got home… I didn’t think I would have to come and get you though…” He chides gently, his eyes full of worry.

“I know… I’m sorry, just been so busy… I didn’t even realise it was past my usual finish” You sigh and run a hand through your hair, you still have a couple more papers to correct.

It wouldn’t hurt to do these last few now right?

But Daichi stops that thought before it develops into action. He pulls your chair back and moves to stand in front of you, his deep brown eyes boring down into yours.

“No…” He says, his voice low and warning, but behind the hard look in his eyes was something else, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“Daichi… baby please, it's only a few more papers… I nee-”

Mid speech his arms are around you and he’s lifting you up, one of his hands moves to brush the papers off the desk before he places you on it. In an instant his lips are on yours, you don’t even get a chance to let out a whine in protest.

“A few more papers or not, your poor currently neglected Husband needs your attention…” He breathes against your neck as he moves to nip and suck at the flesh.

Oh. So that was what it was. Lust.

But you were both still in your classroom, making out on top of your desk. Although, you would be lying if you said this wasn’t one of your more prominent fantasies. And it was happening.

While you were lost in the shock of it all, Daichi had managed to undo all the buttons on your blouse, releasing more of your soft skin to him.

His mouth wastes no time exploring your body, soft whines and mewls passing your lips as his hand stroked your inner thighs.

He kisses between your legs, exactly where you need him but it was over too many layers of clothing for your liking.

“Is this what you want, pretty bunny? I know you think about this huh? Me fucking you on your desk…” He hums, his voice laced and dripping with sweetness, but you could see straight through to the gentle teasing behind.

His hand cupped your clothed cunt as he waited for you to answer, giving it a small slap and a warning glance.

“Yes…Yes please…” You all but whined at him, you could never understand how he managed to make you this submissive and needy. But he did.

“Yes please..?” He raises a brow, daring you to not answer, daring you to not say what he wanted to hear.

“Yes please, Daddy..” You send him an innocent look, which he smirks in return. His hands run up the outside of your thighs to squeeze your ass, before he works your trousers and panties off.

“Such a good girl..” He hums at the sight of you all spread out for him, giving your pussy another gentle slap, causing a small wave of pleasure to ripple through you.

He relishes the small twitch that your body makes in reaction.

But he much prefers the reaction when his breath hits your sensitive nub, when he makes first contact with his tongue and when his fingers enter your tight walls.

When he sends you over the edge and he can feel your spongy walls pulsate around his thick digits, but still he doesn’t stop.

His tongue wants to drink all you have to offer and more. It's only when you are squirming so much that you knock more papers off your desk that he finally relents.

You revel in the small amount of time that your body can relax, your lips parted and lungs gasping for air. You feel like the wind has been knocked out of you.

When you manage to open your eyes, you are met with his eyes still lit with lust just at the sight of you sprawled on your desk, trying your hardest to recover.

“You think you are ready for my cock now bunny?” He asks, you know that if you wanted to stop he would, if you were at your limit he would allow you reprieve.

But after that, there was no way you could say no. You wanted to feel him inside of you. And the minute you tilt your head and send him a small smirk, he knows exactly what you want.

Daichi fumbles his belt as he rushes to take his trousers off, he was so hard and was more than ecstatic that you weren’t fully spent.

When his pants and boxers finally drop to the floor, you have adjusted yourself to be in a slightly more comfortable position, your back flush against the desk and your legs in the air.

You expect him to wrap them around his waist when he lines himself up, but instead he pushes down on your thighs to keep them up as he slowly pushes in.

Even with as much preparation as Daichi gave you, you were never prepared for the sheer stretch of his length. You bite down on your lip to conceal a loud moan as his hips rest flush against yours.

“Always amazed at how well you take me babygirl… such a small pretty pussy…” He cooes at you with a smirk before he starts to move, at first he keeps a steady pace.

You could say agonisingly steady, even though feeling every vein of his cock as he rocked back and forth made your eyes close and lips part. You wanted more.

“It feels s’good, more Daddy please..” You mewl a bit too quietly for Daichi’s liking.

“What was that bunny?” He asks, a knowing look on his face.

But instead of giving you time to answer, as you open your mouth he suddenly speeds up his thrusts, ripping a loud moan from your throat.

He pushes your legs fully up against your chest now as he starts to chase his high, fucking you senseless. His thrusts so hard that the desk starts to shift with every hard snap of his hips against yours.

He couldn’t take his eyes off you, the way your face was an utterly stunning tell-tale sign of you losing all grip you once had on reality. A guttural groan spills from him at the sight, it was all getting too much, he could feel himself coming close.

“Being in such a setting makes me want to fill you with kids of my own… you want that don’t you?” He moans at the thought of you pregnant, how beautiful you would be while you grow his child.

He was managing to hit all the right spots, with his words and the tip of his cock, the familiar coil in your tummy was tightening fast.

Tears threaten to spill as he pushes you over the edge. And boy did you fall, so hard that you almost missed the small mutterings from Daichi as he painted your insides white.

“Take it all, all my seed, gonna be a great mum, so beautiful” He stills inside of you, finally allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist as his top half collapses on top of you.

His head comes to rest on your chest, your hand instantly carding your fingers through the soft strands, which earns you a soft groan from Daichi.

As you both recover from your orgasms, the weight of what just happened hits you. Your face went beet red as you poked Daichi’s cheek that was still resting on your chest.

“Baby… we should probably clean up and go…” You giggle, as you watch Daichi’s face contort in realisation.

“You are probably right…” He laughs softly as he helps you clean up and get dressed.

As you both restack the papers and move the desk into its original position you can’t help but giggle like school kids who have just been caught.

Which is ironic, seen as though the space you are currently in would be filled with them in less than 24 hours.

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[rainydaydream-gal18]

(The Bad Batch) Tech x Reader: Pause - PART 2

(Set during episode 3 “Replacements”)

SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 3 below if you haven’t seen it yet!

Note:  I had multiple people ask for a second part to the first one, and I had so much fun writing it, so here we are!  This had me swooning at 8 in the morning while I was writing up the end!  I really hope you enjoy!

Link to Part 1 (set during episode 2)

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

   “I should’ve gone with them,” you muttered to yourself, staring through the viewport of the ship into the darkness outside.  “Omega is so young.  She really shouldn’t have gone in the first place.”

   “Hunter will look after her,” Tech spoke up as he welded a few parts of the ship together at one of the main consoles.  He didn’t take his eyes off the project in front of him, only spoke over his shoulder.  It gave you room to admire his profile for a moment while he so diligently worked.

   “You’re right,” you sighed.  “But still, I can’t help but worry.  Please give me something to do so I don’t drive myself crazy thinking about it.”

   Echo chuckled as he worked on a separate console on the other side of the cockpit, nodding you over.  “You could hold these sheets of metal while I screw them back into place.”

   “Yes, sir.”  You clambered past the assorted parts and pieces that littered the space, catching your foot on a particularly heavy chunk of metal.  It made your eyes water.  “Okay, ow.”

   “Are you alright?” Tech actually paused his endeavor and pulled his helmet up to glance your way.

   “Yeah,” you replied, shaking off the pain.  “I just tripped on this thing.”

   “Be careful.”

   “No worries, I’ll try not to break any of the parts.”

   “The parts weren’t what I was concerned about.”

   Your gaze found his for a split second before he lowered his helmet back on and resumed welding.  Rather than dwell on it too much, you turned your attention back to Echo and took hold of the metal sheets so he could screw them into place properly.  Wrecker was causing a bit of a commotion in the back of the ship, most likely putting together the room he announced he was going to make for Omega after she and Hunter had departed.  You were touched by his gesture and listened with amusement to the sounds of stuff being dragged around and dropped back there.

   “Hey, _________!” he called.  “Could you give me a hand with something?”

   You exchanged looks with Echo who had finished replacing all the sheet metal on his side by now.  He gave you a nod, letting you know he could spare you for a minute.  

   “I’ll be right back,” you told him.  You headed down the hall to see Wrecker holding a strand of lights in his hand with the other hand ghosting over the spot where he hit his head during the crash.  “What’s up?”

   “Can you hold this end of the strand?  While I hand the other side?”

   You smiled.  “Sure.  You know,  this is really nice of you.  Omega is going to love it.”

   “You think?”

   “I know it, Wrecker.”  The two of you exchanged grins before setting to work on hanging the lights.  Wrecker paused when he reached the end of the strand, and you were struggling to hold it up so high.  “Uh, what’s the hold up?”

   “I took too many hooks,” he said.

   “Oh,” you nodded.  “Well here, you hang the last part, and I’ll put the rest of the hooks away.”  He dropped the set of hooks into your palm, and you made your way to a compartment where the squad kept miscellaneous supplies.  On your way through the doorway, you encountered a figure on its way out.

   The first thing you registered was Tech’s eyes widening slightly in surprise as the two of you ended up squeezed in the small space together, nearly chest-to-chest.

   “Sorry, ________.”

   “No, it’s my bad,” you insisted.  “I didn’t look before going in.”

   “Well, I didn’t look before going out.”

   Meanwhile, neither of you had moved from the spot.  His close proximity sent your heart racing as he gazed down at you, close enough that you could lean in a few inches and kiss him if you wanted- which you did want, of course.  Did he?

   “Everything going okay up there?” you asked.

   “Yes, most of the individual parts repairs are complete.  “All we need now is that capacitor.”

   “That’s good news.”  Your face fell a little.  “I just hope Hunter and Omega both make it back alright.”

   His gaze was so sincere as he responded, “they will." The hand he had just rested on your shoulder twitched as he hesitantly pulled it away.  “We, ah, never had a chance to talk on Saleucami.”

   You nodded.  “Yeah, things have been a little crazy.  What was it you wanted to talk about?”

   “I recall we both had something to speak to the other about.”

   You suddenly felt bashful and tore your eyes from his and let them fall to the floor.  “Well, you first.”

   He went quiet for a moment.  “Alright.”  He inhaled deeply as if gathering the nerve.  “I wanted to speak with you because over the course of our missions together, I’ve developed feelings-”

   “_________!”  Wrecker called, his thudding footsteps nearing the closet.

   Tech clamped his mouth shut while you replied before he reached the closet.

   “Yeah, Wrecker?”

   “Omega’s room is done!  Wanna’ see?”

   “Oh, awesome!  I’ll be there in a minute!”

   His footsteps faded down the hall again, and you glanced back at Tech with a chuckle.  He adjusted his goggles, a small smile on his face at the amusement of the situation.  You were convinced that he was about to say what you really, really wanted to hear. 

   “Anyway, as I was saying,” he continued.  “I’ve developed feelings for you, _________.  It’s never happened before, and I only know from what I’ve read that the proper thing for me to do would be to tell you and to ask to court you, if you wish to do so.”

   Your heart was fluttering, eyes were watering, and the smile on your face grew even wider.  “Tech, I feel the same way,” you told him.  “I know this situation we’re in as a squad isn’t conventional, but I do have feelings for you and would love to ‘court.’”  The last word broke off into another giddy laugh.  You only had to move forward a few inches to wrap your arms around his form in an embrace.  It wasn’t super comfortable with his armor on, but it felt right when you pressed your cheek against his chest plate, and you felt his chin on your head.  The two of you stood there squeezing each other for a minute or so and listened to the quiet breaths that filled the air.  Then, you pulled your head away to angle your face up towards his, and he accepted the invitation.  His eyes fell closed as he kissed your lips.  It was warm and a sort of relief washed over you as your hands traveled up to grip his shoulders while his pulled you in tighter.  He was still a little rigid at first, but as soon your lips moved against his he responded.

   Your back fell against the cool metal wall as his lips chased yours.

   “Ah, sorry,” he murmured.  You bit your lip and smiled, leaning in for another kiss.

   “It’s okay,” you assured him.  “Didn’t bother me.”

   The moment was beautifully awkward as he pulled away to stare at you like he had many times before.  The pause went on longer than you expected, so you finally spoke again in a humorous tone.

   “What?”

   “I’m just admiring your beauty,” he said, reaching up to run his thumb down from your forehead to the tip of your nose, a small gesture that made you smile again.  “So many times I wanted to have this moment.”

   “Well, now it’s here.”  Then, your brows went up.  “Oh, I need to go see Omega’s room.  I told Wrecker I’d be there in a minute.”

   Tech was hesitant to let you go, but he seemed to understand.  He most likely also wasn’t up for a situation where Wrecker would come looking for you and see the two of you in the supply closet.  Even if he didn’t see any lips making contact, the jokes would go on and on for the rest of the time on this moon.  Neither of you were entirely up for it.  You’d let the rest of the squad know about your new relationship when the time was right, though Hunter might pick up on it before then.  He was pretty observant.

   “I’ll go with you,” Tech said.  “Wrecker will want me to see the room anyway.”

   “Okay,” you nodded.

   “Ladies first.”  He gestured to the small doorway, and you grinned.  You took his hand and headed out the door first, him following behind.  Neither of you let go until you neared the room where Wrecker was showing Echo already.

   “There you two are!” Wrecker said.  “Check it out!”  He gestured to the room past the lifted curtain to show the space he had made for Omega, and you gushed at how great it looked while he stood there proudly.  The lights shone in your eyes and reflected off Tech’s goggles beside you.

   There had been some rough times behind you, and there were sure to be more ahead.  The galaxy was in disarray while this new Empire claimed it was order.  The squad had lost one member.  Everyone missed Crosshair, but there was hope of bringing him back.

   This moment felt like another pause from all of that.  It was a day of new beginnings.

[imagineimpact]

hi !! is it ok if i request a one-shot kaeya x reader? i've had this phrase in my mind for a bit and i just dont know what to do with it. "uh.. kaeya? you can stop holding my hand now..."

Yes, of course it is! I may or may not have written this when I saw it and it may or may not have been really early in the morning when I did, but I love getting prompts like this!

Enjoy!

No Hurry To Let You Go

Kaeya x Reader

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Happy Windblume Festival!” You greet another guest to Mondstadt, one who had just asked you for directions and was now on their way up to see the church of Barbatos. Quite the crowd had seemed to amass on this particular day, and it was hard to even see the usual faces around - Marjorie would be making a lot of sales today, as would Flora, but the sheer amount of people stopped you from witnessing the sight.

Yeah, you weren’t too good with crowds. The thought of stepping into this, where you would be pushed around and have to say 'excuse me' a hundred or so times was rather offputting, for many reasons. So, instead, you hovered by the blacksmith’s forgery, waiting for the crowd to disperse ever so slightly into the festivities.

The problem was, though, that you had been waiting for three hours.

Your eyes wander through the crowd to seek out a familiar face - any would do. Why did there have to be just so, so many guests here today?

“Hey, fancy joining me at the tavern for a bit?” A voice beside you - a familiar presence indeed - appears out of nowhere. You startle slightly, much to his amusement.

“Ah, good afternoon Kaeya.” You smile, your eyes meeting his. “Aren’t you busy with, you know, the festivities?”

He scans over you, a light smile on his face as his eyes twinkle with interest. “As a knight, it is my duty to ensure that each individual enjoys their time during the festivities.” He chuckles to himself. “You seem oblivious to the fact that you’ve been standing there for hours now.”

“You noticed, huh?” You're slightly unamused by the teasing. “Well, you know I don’t really, uh...”

“Oh, you’re afraid of getting lost in the crowd?” He asks, reading you with such ease that it’s almost frustrating.

In a way, though, it’s the cause for that smile spreading across your expression. “Well, not exactly. I was just, um, waiting for there to be a bit less people.”

He chuckles. “Right.” You might as well have told him you could fly with how much he had seen through your words.

“I really am.”

“Oh, I believe that you are, but it’s because you lack fondness of such crowds.” He leans closer. “I believe you still haven’t answered my request, by the way.”

“You’re request? Oh! Right.” Your eyes wander away to look at the crowd for a moment. It was about time that you had something to eat anyway, so there was no real fear in going. Plus, it would give you an excuse to get through all these people. “Sure, I’ll join you.”

“Lovely.” He straightens back up, but leans back down for just a moment. You feel his hand take yours, adjusting itself slightly to your palm.

A heat rises to your face. “Kaeya?”

“We don’t want to get separated now, do we?” He chuckles to himself, stealing a quick glance your way before turning and taking the chance to guide you to his side.

No arguing with that logic. You release a deep breath, relieved that your friend had approached you. His presence beside you is a welcome warmth, and due to his status and stature, he has much more ease navigating the crowds than you would have if you were alone.

It takes about twenty minutes of walking before you find fresh air, the crowd not surrounding Angel’s Share. Usually this walk would take half that time, but with your slow pace navigating the crowds, it was far more tedious than expected.

Kaeya still grips your hand when you reach the tavern door. “Uh, Kaeya?” You hold up your clasped hands. “You can stop holding my hand now.”

“Hmm?” His eyes linger over the hands as he opened the door with his other. “Oh, I know.” He looks away as if mindlessly returning back to a task.

Instead, he grips your hand tighter and leads you into the tavern ahead of him.

“Wh- Wait-“ You stutter out, flustered at the notion.

“There’s no hurry.” He spoke simply, very much to avoid you mentioning it again.

“Kaeya-“

“Are you two going to keep blocking the doorway?” A tired voice rings out from behind the counter.

“Oh, Diluc, I didn’t know you would be working today.” You pipe up, trying to avoid the typical tense conversation between the two brothers.

“Festivities are typical cause for me to work. It’s due to be quite busy in here soon.” His eyes rest on Kaeya. “Of course, when people have a proper job to do, they haven’t the opportunity to rest during such occasions.”

“As always, Diluc, taking a chance to slander the Knights of Favonius.” Kaeya’s voice is unusually disinterested in the typical unfriendly banter. “We’re just taking a break before the crowds get any worse. A certain someone was near about to pass out from exhaustion.”

That’s when Diluc’s eyes flicker to your clasped hands. His expression shifts slightly as if he is rather amused by such a development. Still being polite, however, he doesn’t mention it. “If you’re that exhausted, then take a seat. I assume you won’t enjoy drowning in wine like your present company.” He says to you, turning his head to look into the interior of the tavern. “Find a seat somewhere. Away from me.”

Your hand is being squeezed - near suffocation - by Kaeya, who scoffs at his brother, “As always, you-“

“Thanks, Diluc.” You interrupt Kaeya and quickly pull him away from a potentially endless argument.

He’s indignant for a moment, then takes stride in front of you and leads you up the stairs for the utmost privacy.

Kaeya is unusually quiet as he leads you to a table in the corner, away from the few other people who are in the bar. Diluc is right; In a few hours, this entire tavern would be overfilling with guests.

Still, Kaeya leads you to a table and you both sit down, his hand still grasping yours. Was it overkill at this point? Most certainly.

“Hey, Kaeya?” You call again to grab his attention. He meets your gaze with a slight reluctance, as if pulled from a strange thought. It's unusual for him to be so reserved. You squeeze his hand. “Everything alright?”

“Why, of course it is.” He leans forward slightly, pulling your hand as if to have you do the same. “I’m right in front of my favourite person.”

Your cheeks tinge a light pink and he chuckles at the change. Your eyes narrow slightly - He’s doing this on purpose. “Is that why you’re insisting on holding my hand so tightly?”

“Hmm.” He hums quietly. “Well, perhaps I just want your attention.” He stares across at you. “Perhaps I wouldn’t want you to be thinking about anyone else right now, or want you to get lost in either your thoughts or the crowds.” His eyes scan yours, a delay for testing your acceptance of his words. “And perhaps, of course, I don’t want any other man to take your hand away from me.”

Your eyes widen a bit in surprise at his words. Though not unusually bold, they are certainly more, well, direct than usual.

He held your hand under the table, the two of your quiet as footsteps came approached from the stairwell. “Some wine and food for the table.” Diluc announces haphazardly, though delicately he does place the items onto the table. You look up toward him, and feel your hand being squeezed again.

The unusual action comes across more possessive than you had seen Kaeya before. It’s incredibly flustering for your thoughts.

Diluc notices how quickly you look away from him, and his eyes flicker to Kaeya. He notices something, but wanders away from the table regardless at the sound of your quiet 'thanks'. Perhaps he believed himself to be interrupting a moment - which, perhaps he was.

Finally, he lets your hand go, leaning back in his chair. “Now, my dear, let’s enjoy our time together while it’s still quiet enough for you.” He smiles delicately, as if moments ago he hadn’t spoken strangely.

You decide to play along with it, not certain how to deal with the stirring in your heart as you both lift your glasses and let the clink resound in the air when they meet, pushing away any other emotions you might be feeling.

[kj-1130]

Nothing For Me

Part 7

Main Masterlist

Part 6|Part 8

     You and MJ’s relationship continued to grow as time went on. 

     As she started her first year of high school, you worked on yourself, wanting to be good for her.

     Overtime, you learned how to process and deal with things better. You focused on yourself and your developing relationship with MJ and needless to say, things started to look up. 

     The ‘present but not really present father’ thing didn’t affect you as much as it did, but it was still there. It was one of the only things you hadn’t fully processed and to be honest, you didn’t think you ever could. 

     Your father is there, and has been aware of presence for almost a decade. And not once has he given you any type of consolation or love like a father should. You would think after Pepper was getting more involved in his life and forcing him to clean up (most of) his act, he would open his eyes and realize that a whole human being was living with him, waiting for him to realize that they were supposed to be relying on him; not an AI built in the comfort of their room. 

     But nope. Absolutely nothing changed. If anything, things got worse. 

     He was away more often, focusing on the Avengers. Or he was with Pepper, the new love of his life. 

     You tried not to linger on the situation often, knowing it would only lead to pain in your chest. So you just stuffed it in the back of your mind, hoping one day that the pain would just lessen all together. 

     About two months ago, you and MJ had decided to make things official after going on your first date. At first you talked about how fast the two of you were going, but Michelle simply said ‘we’ll be u-haul lesbians then.’ That was the end of the conversation. 

     Currently, you and your girlfriend were facetiming. You would’ve made the trek to her house but she was about to study and you both knew that you’d distract her. Plus the two of you were due for some time away from each other considering the fact that you’re at her place almost everyday. 

     “Okay, so I found this recipe the other day and I’m just now remembering it.”

     MJ looks at you confused, “Okay?” 

     You roll your eyes playfully.

     “I wanted to try it with you. After my ban from your place has been lifted.” 

     “It’s not a ban,” she chuckled.

     “Well, it sure as hell feels like one ba-”     “Mr. Stark has arrived with a guest,” M.I.A cut you off. 

     “Who is this guest?” 

     “Secretary of State, Thaddues Ross,” the AI replied, pulling up pictures of the man. 

     “Hey M, I’m gonna call you back.”

     “Yeah, yeah,” she nods, looking a little concerned. “Take all the time you need. Let me know if everything’s okay.”

     The two of you give your goodbyes and you ask M.I.A to pull up the live footage from the conference room.

     “Perspective. The world owes the Avengers an un-payable debt. You have fought for us, protected us, risked your lives… but while a great a=many people see you as heroes, there are some who would prefer the word “vigilantes”, is what you first hear when you start watching. 

     Immediately your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

     “And what word would you use, Mr. Secretary?” Natasha asks.

     “How about ‘dangerous’?” he replies. “What would you call a group of US-based, enhanced individuals who routinely ignore sovereign borders and inflict their will wherever they choose and who, frankly, seem unconcerned about what they leave behind?”

     The secretary activates a screen behind him which begins to play the previous battles the Avengers and SHIELD have fought in. 

     “New York.” 

     He clicks a button, footage of chitauri, shooting guns, and Hulk smashing plays. 

     “Washington D.C”

     A new video appears, showing the insight helicarriers firing at each other with chaos following. 

     “Sokovia.” 

     The frame changes, showcasing the terrified citizens that were on the flying piece of land. 

     “Lagos.” 

     “That’s enough,” Steve interrupts. 

     Ross nods in response and begins his speech again. 

     “For the past four years, you’ve operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That’s an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate. But I think we have a solution.”

     He places a thick document on the table and slides it across to Wanda. As the team slides the book to each other Ross starts talking. 

     “The Sokovia Accords. Approved by 117 countries… it states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization. Instead, they’ll operate under the supervision of a United Nations panel, only when and if that panel deems it necessary.” 

     “The Avengers were formed to make the world a safer place,” the Captain begins. “I feel we’ve done that.”

     “Tell me, Captain, do you know where Thor and Banner are right now?” There was a momentary pause as the two men’s eyes met. “If I misplaced a couple of 30 megaton nukes… you can bet there’d be consequences. Compromise. Reassurance. That’s how the world works. Believe me, this is middle ground.”

     At this point, you’re walking out of your room after transfering the feed to your tablet and making your way to the elevator.

     “So, these are contingencies,” Rhodey states. 

     “Three days from now,” Secretary Ross begins. “The UN meets in Vienna to ratify the Accords. Talk it over.” 

     Natasha speaks up, “And if we don’t come to a decision you don’t like?”

     “Then you retire.” 

     The elevator stops and you look up seeing the Secretary walk in with someone behind him. You give him a subtle disgusted look before turning your attention back to the security footage.

     As the deathtrap descends, you can feel his eyes lingering on you. 

     “Can I help you?” 

     “You’re a little young to be an intern.” 

     “You’re a little old to be looking at me like that,” you shrug, swiping away from the video on your tablet as you feel him looking over your shoulder. 

     Ross gives an awkward chuckle and furrows his eyebrows. When you reach the bottom floor, he gets ready to step out and places a hand on your shoulder. 

     You look at him like he’s lost his mind. 

     “You seem like a good kid. Be sure to make good choices.” 

     Raising an eyebrow, you refrain from saying what you want to say. You lift your hand and gently take his off of you. 

     “Don’t touch me,” 

     Once he exits, you hear the chatting start back up.

     “Secretary Ross has a Congressional Medal of Honor,” Rhodes told Sam. “Which is one more than you have. 

     “So let’s say we agree to this thing,” Wilson starts. “How long is it gonna be before they LoJack us like a bunch of common criminals?”

     “117 countries want to sign this. 117, Sam, and you’re just like, ‘No that’s cool. We got it.” 

     “I have an equation,” Vision announces as you get back on the elevator. 

     “Oh this will clear it up,” Sam mutters. 

     “In the eight years since Mr. Stark announced himself as Iron Man, the number of known enhanced persons has grown exponentially. And during the same period, the number of potentially world-ending events has risen at a commensurate rate.“

     “Toaster oven’s got a point there,” you mumble, stepping back on the metal deathtrap. 

     Steve asks,“Are you saying it’s our fault?”

     “I’m saying there may be a causality. Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict… breeds catastrophe. Oversight… oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand.” 

     “Boom,” Rhodey says.                             

     You see Tony lying on the couch, quite relaxed, contradicting the tense atmosphere. 

     “Tony,” Nat starts. “You are being uncharacteristically non-hyper-verbal.”

     “It’s because he’s already made up his mind,” Steve explained. 

     “Boy, you know me so well,” Stark starts, getting up and rubbing the back of his head. “Actually I’m nursing an electromagnetic headache,” he pauses to grab a mug of coffee. “That’s what’s going on, Cap. It’s just pain. It’s discomfort. Who’s putting coffee grounds in the disposal? Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?”

     Tony puts his phone in a basket and taps the screen. An image is projected of a smiling young man. 

     “Oh, that’s Charles Spencer, by the way. He’s a great kid. Computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA. Had a floor level gig at Intel planned for the fall. But first, he wanted to put a few miles on his soul, before he parked it behind a desk. See the world. Maybe be of service. Charlie didn’t want to go to Vegas or Fort Lauderdale, which is what I would do. He didn’t go to Paris or Amsterdam, which sounds fun. He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the poor. Guess where, Sokovia.”

     He pauses for a second as the team soaks in the information.

     “He wanted to make a difference, I suppose. I mean, we won’t know because we dropped a building on him while we were kicking ass.

     “There’s no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes, I’m game. If we can’t accept limitations, if we’re boundary-less, we’re no better than the bad guys.”

     “Tony, someone dies on your watch, you don’t give up,” Steve rebuttals.

     “Who said we’re giving up?” 

     “We are if we’re not taking responsibility for our actions. This document just shifts the blame.”

     “I’m sorry. Steve,” Rhodey blurted. “That-that is dangerously arrogant. This is the United Nations we’re talking about. It’s not the World Security Council, it’s not SHIELD, it’s not HYDRA.”

      “No, but it’s run by people with agendas, and agendas change.”   

      “That’s good,” Tony starts. “That’s why I’m here. When I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands, I shut it down and stopped manufacturing.  

     “Tony, you chose to do that. If we sign this, we surrender our right to choose. What if this panel sends us somewhere we don’t think we should go? What if there is somewhere we need to go, and they don’t let us? We may not be perfect, but the safest hands are still our own.”

     “If we don’t do this now, it’s gonna be done to us later. That’s a fact. That won’t be pretty.”

     Wanda finally speaks up, “You’re saying they’ll come for me.”

     “We would protect you,” Vision promised. 

     “Maybe Tony’s right,” the redhead speaks. “If we have one hand on the wheel, we can still steer. If we take it off--”

     “Aren’t you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?” Sam interrupts. 

     “I’m just… I’m reading the terrain. We have made… some very public mistakes. We need to win their trust back. 

     “Focus up,” Tony says. “I’m sorry, did I just mishear or did you agree with me?”

     “Oh, I want to take it back now.”

     “No, no, no. You can’t retract it. Thank you. Unprecedented. Okay, case-closed--I win.” 

     From what you see, Steve stands to leave abruptly. 

     You then walk out of the elevator, tablet still in hand with the footage up. The captain walks past you just as you turn the corner and spot the team. 

     “Someone’s upset,” you hum. 

     You walk past everyone towards the fridge and grab a water bottle. 

     “Anyway, that was very childish. And kinda stupid.” 

     Inquisitive looks are thrown your way and you hold up the tablet awkwardly as you plop down on a chair. 

     “I was watching you. I kinda do that a lot. It’s not as creepy as it sounds.” 

     You open the bottle and take a sip. 

     “What are you doing down here kid--”

     “Ahhh,” you interrupt. “Don’t call me a kid. I haven’t been a child for years.”

     “Just answer the question,” Tony snaps. 

     “I like to stay informed. No one tells me anything and while you think that these private meetings only affect you, it doesn’t. It affects me too. You may not remember I’m your child but several people do. And that puts me in danger. So yes, I listen to your conversations to make sure it’s nothing I need to worry about.” 

     An awkward silence washes over as you gulp down more water. 

     “Anyway, I was just riding up and down the elevator waiting for you guys to finish. That Ross dude is kinda creepy by the way. But you’re really considering signing that thing?” 

     “Not you too,” your father mutters. 

      You let out a laugh and everyone looks at you strangely. 

      “Is this funny to you?” Rhodey asks. 

      “Yes,” you stop laughing abruptly. “I find it hilarious that this is the same government that was ready to drop a nuke on the city during the Battle of New York not giving a damn about a single civilian that was still in the area. I find it hilarious that this is the same government that lets thousands of children and women of color go missing and not do a thing about it. It’s funny that this is the same government that let HYDRA, Red Room, AIM; all that shit grow right under their nose. It’s funny because this government is the same one that uses taxpayer money for dumb ass projects and unnecessary military funding instead of using it to fund shit that helps the civilians they claim they care so much about. I mean how can you not find this situation amusing?”

     “Look,” Tony attempts. 

     “I’m not finished,” you challenge, looking him dead in the eyes. “This government don’t give a damn about y’all, especially not the three of us,” you say, gesturing to yourself, Sam, and Rhodey. “We’d be booted out of this country before you could even blink if they ever got the chance and you know that.

     “I don’t know why y’all are so adamant on gaining the government’s trust when they don’t give a flying fuck about you or these goddamn civilians. All they care about is power. They don’t care how many civilians come up missing or die in some tragic accident. It doesn’t matter what happens. When they see someone becoming richer or smarter or more powerful than they are, they will do anything to shut that shit down. 

     “I don’t understand how you can’t see that. And maybe it’s just me. Maybe it’s just me and my experience,” you pause, catching the gaze of every person in the room with hard eyes. You take a deep breath and try to calm down. “Sign it if you want to. Think about how many lives you’ll lose then.”

     You stand from your spot and walk into the open elevator, ready to get to the comfort of your bed. 

-

     It had been two days since the initial meeting and you were currently sitting on Michelle’s bed watching her read. 

     “You’re really pretty,” you muttered out of the blue.

     You saw your girlfriend’s cheeks develop a subtle red tint as she mumbled back a ‘thank you, and continued reading. You groan and gently pull the book out of her hands. 

     “Hey,” she quietly protests. 

     “Please,” you pout, holding your arms out as an invitation.

     MJ fondly rolls her eyes before lowering herself onto you. You hummed contently and squeezed her before planting a kiss on her cheek. 

     She surprised you by turning her head and giving you a lingering kiss. That one kiss soon turned into something more. 

     Michelle gently pushed you onto your back and straddled your hips. Bending down she kissed you once again, her lips gliding with yours. 

     This continued for a few minutes, taking small breaks in between to breathe. You don’t think you could ever get enough of her and hoped that she was feeling similarly.

     You kissed until your jaws hurt. The euphoric feeling still lingered as MJ rested her forehead against yours, trying to catch her breath. 

     “We should do that again sometime,” you mumbled. 

     Your girlfriend nodded in response, giving one more chaste kiss to your lips before dropping to your side. 

     “Tomorrow,” she said after glancing at the clock that read 10:47. 

     “Guess I’m spending the night then.” 

     “I have no problem with that.”

-

     The next day, you were awoken by beeping from your phone. Once you were fully aware of your surroundings you picked up the device and read the notifications that M.I.A sent through. Scanning through them, you sat up with urgency and played the video. 

     “A bomb hidden in a news van ripped through the UN building in Vienna. More than 70 people have been injured. At least 12 are dead, including Wakanda’s King T’Chaka. Officials have released a video of a suspect who they have identified as James Buchanan Bares, the Winter Soldier. The infamous HYDRA agent, linked to numerous acts of terrorism and political assassinations.”

    ��Carefully removing Michelle’s arm from around your waist, you stand up and move to the corner of the room. You press the contact and hold the phone up to your ear. 

      “Nat what the fuck is going on?”

     You hear the woman sigh on the other side of the phone.     “Look, just… stay wherever you are.”

     “Yeah, okay, whatever. I want answers, Nat.”

     “(Y/n),” she says firmly. “Calm down and go back to whatever you were doing. Right now, this does not concern you and I would like it to stay that way. Do you understand me?”

     There was some silence, before you let out a forced chuckle. 

     “Okay, whatever. Bye.”

     “(Y/n) c’mo--”

     You disconnected the call and gently tossed the phone onto MJ’s desk.     “You sound stressed.” 

     Turning around to face the bed, you see Michelle sat up and leaning against the headboard. You nod slowly and crawl your way up towards her. 

     “I am.”

     You feel her hand take hold of your clenched ones and she rubs them, causing you to relax slightly. 

     “There was a um, bombing at the--the um… signing thing. And no one wants to tell me what’s going on, so,” you end the sentence, shrugging. 

     MJ’s head drops onto your shoulder and you let her cuddle close. 

     “They told me to stay where I was. So hopefully we can get something good out of that.” 

     There was no response and you thought she had fallen back asleep, but you were proven wrong when your girlfriend started getting up. 

     “C’mon,” she instructed, holding her hand out when she saw the look of confusion on your face. 

     Taking her hand, the two of you made your way to the kitchen. 

     She turned around and grabbed your shoulders. 

     “We are going to make some breakfast… or lunch whatever. And then we are going to binge watch until we can binge watch no longer. Alright?”

     You nod your head, chuckling and then got to work. 

-

     It had been days since you last heard from anyone. No updates from Natasha. M.I.A even told you there hasn’t even been a great deal of movement in the compound. Today you decided you would head back. 

     When you arrived it was quiet. As you walked down the halls you heard distant chatter and followed it. 

     Turning the corner, you were surprised at what you saw. 

     “What the hell happened?”

     The two men turned to look your way, but you were given no answers. 

     Tony had bruises on his face and he looked more tense than usual. Rhodey had some sort of tech on his legs. 

     “You fought them. You fought them all, didn’t you?” 

     Both men looked away and avoided your gaze. 

     “You didn’t even listen to what I said. This is what the government does. I tried to tell you, but you didn’t even fucking listen,” you ranted, your voice slightly raising.

     “Us breaking apart wasn’t the government. Most of this is on some guy th--”

     “Well the government allowed it to happen so I’d say it is their fault!” 

     You turned to your father with pleading eyes. 

     “Where are they, Tony?”

     “Kid, they’re criminals now, I don’t--”

     “Stop calling me that! I’m--I’m not some kid. I’m not your kid,” you let out a frustrated breath. “You--you couldn’t talk it out? Like mature adults? You just had to go assert your dominance somewhere--in what? An--an airport? Some vacant lot? You just had to fight. Do you not know how to communicate?” 

     You looked at the two men, shook your head, and brushed past them. 

     Just when things were alright.

-

     “(Y/n)?” 

     “What M.I.A?”

     You were currently laying in your bed trying to control the tears that were begging to fall from your eyes due to the amount of overwhelming shit you had been hit with. You talked with MJ for a little while and while it helped a bit, you honestly were still feeling like… well shit.

     “There’s a package for you.” 

     Furrowing your eyebrows, you head down to where the mail is usually placed, get the package with your name on it, and head back to your room. 

     Grabbing a pair of scissors, you cut the tape and open the box. Inside was a letter and a phone. 

     Hey sweetheart.

     It was Natasha’s handwriting.

     I’m sorry. I really am. We all are. I wish things wouldn’t have ended this way, but they did and we can’t really do anything about it now. 

     I listened to what you said. I listened and I tried my best to understand. I don’t think I ever wanted to sign the accords in the first place. The only reason I did so was so that we could stay together. So that I could stay with you. This team is the only family I’ve had in a long time. The fact that that stack of papers could end that scared me. 

     I just kept trying to convince myself that signing the Accords was the right thing to do; anything to keep this team together. Anything to keep everything from falling apart. 

     But the more I thought about it, I realized. You were right. Everything you said. This government doesn’t care. And if the government doesn’t care like they’re supposed to then we need to. People need the government, but they don’t have it. They do have us though. And they always will. 

     I love you. I didn’t say it enough and I don’t know when or if I’ll ever get to tell you that again. You are so precious to me and I’m sorry I couldn’t stay. If you ever need anything, you can always give me a call. 

     You wiped your eyes and gently picked up the phone. You held it in your hands for a moment before setting it down. You folded the letter back up neatly and placed both items in the top drawer of your nightstand. 

     You laid back down on your bed with less tears on your face. 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

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[heartcal]

“who do you believe?”; l.h.

Disclaimer: i didn’t want to write sierra as a bad person because i personally cannot see that, and i know there’s some discourse about her within in the fandom but i don’t want any of that here! so i named the girlfriend after a girl who bullied me in elementary school lol (but another disclaimer: i do not want to see any hate towards the boys’ s/o! pls don’t send any asks that talks bad about them, i will not answer them!)

thank you for requesting! :^)

a/n: while transfering this from microsoft word, the formatting kept screwing up for some reason so if there are some janky paragraphs, i apologize! not too comfortable with this one compared to my previous fic (this feels rushed) but it is long and i did not mean for that to happen lol. enjoy!

if there are any mistakes, please tell me!

pairing(s): not really a mention of luke hemmings x reader but it’s mostly luke hemmings x named gf (rachel/oc) (gender neutral but if i slipped up, please let me know!)

summary: having known luke for years, it was bound to happen eventually. the crush you developed happened before you could stop it, and you did your best to keep it a secret. you told no one, did your best not to show it, so what do you do when his girlfriend finds out?

genre: angst, and mostly angst >:^)

warnings: swearing, luke’s gf being mean, bullying?

wc: 4,057 (she’s a long one)

my masterlist!

You don’t know when it happened, or frankly how it happened, but one thing is for sure: you don’t want to feel this way.

Was it when he bought you a stuffed animal version of a pet you had as a kid, one that you remember so fondly and still tear up about it to this day? Or was it when he would always bring back a certain candy you can only find in its country of origin, and bring as much as customs would allow? Maybe it was when he printed out every photo he could find from the beginning of your friendship to the present day (at that time) and made a scrapbook for your birthday since you cherish memories?

Whatever memory it was, you want to track it down and destroy it. It wasn’t fair that you developed such strong feelings for your best friend, knowing he doesn’t feel the same since he’s taken.

It’s not that he isn’t attractive – far from that because if anything, you wish you could draw just so you can draw him because there’s no way someone can look that good – but it’s more of the fact that he’s your best friend, someone you hold dear to you.

You two grew up together; saw each other’s worst phases, styles, and embarrassing moments (it was well documented towards the middle of the scrapbook). He was with you when you went through bad break-ups, and you with him. Throughout school, you two were inseparable, and when the band got big he made sure to keep you close and to never lose contact. It was hard in the beginning but you two managed.

Now finished with college, you’ve taken on the role of working with the team when they’re on tour and helping plan aesthetics for the next album. He offered the jobs after you struggled to find a job after graduation, and in the end, you enjoyed being with the guys and doing the tasks needed.

Tonight, the band was set to play their new album to an intimate crowd. It was to welcome back old fans and welcome new fans, introducing both sides to a new sound they worked hard on. You couldn’t be any more proud.

You sat on the couch as the guys walked around the room, pepping themselves up and hyping each other. You had finished doing your tasks with the crew and spent your free time watching the band prepare as the audience began to fill in the theater seats.

A nudge on your arm makes you direct your eyes from Michael styling his hair with a nervous expression to the person on your left.

“What’s up?” you asked, smiling at the curly-haired individual.

Luke shrugs, glancing around the room before his eyes land back on you. He has a small smile on his face as he leans back onto the couch, “Nothing.”

You scoff, shaking your head with a smile, “Yeah, sure, ‘nothing,’” you mimic, tilting your head to the side, “I doubt that.”

“What do you want me to say?”

You give him an incredulous look, crossing your arms as you turn to face him. You can tell he’s nervous, like the rest of the team and the band, but he won’t admit it. He’s always wanted others to view him as strong and unbothered, especially when those around him feel off.

He mirrors your position, a smirk on his lips because he knows you’re about to lecture him.

And he’s right.

“Your band has a new album out in a couple of days—an album you guys have worked hard on even when your management gave you shit, mind you—and you’re about to perform a majority of the songs in front of 500. Are you not nervous?”

He shakes his head, smugly smiling as he returns to his position leaning against the couch, watching Ashton dry the wet ends of his hair.

“Liar,” you mumble, uncrossing your arms and taking your phone out to check the time.

“Alright,” Luke sighs, giving in, “maybe I’m a little nervous, but I’m not a wreck.”

He’s still a liar. The success of their last album was astounding, so creating an album to reach that level and hopefully top it was hard enough. Playing it in front of an intimate crowd who may or may not like it was tough.

Luke isn’t cocky. He’s a humble man, but he likes to joke around in stressful situations. He’s used to concerts, so he doesn’t have any anxiety when it comes to performing. But when he is nervous for any reason, he won’t show it. He’ll act cool, completely collected with his head held high in confidence. If he needs to relieve the stress, he’ll either do it himself with a strong pep talk, or he’ll go to you.

“What are you nervous about?” You ask, wanting to make him feel better.

“Will they like it? Will it even chart? Is it too bold?” he continues listing out his insecurities about the album and the performance, finally lifting everything off his chest.

And you listen. The way his eyes stare into yours with slight confidence, covered by worry makes your heart sore. Luke’s kept everything inside and now that he’s listing his grievances, it makes you wonder just what else you can get out of him that he’s kept buried inside.

However, before you can give him your insight on this particular problem, “Luke!”

His head immediately turns to the door, the worry in his eyes fading out into sheer happiness and adoration. Something you’ve always wanted to see directed towards you.

Luke stands arms wide as he captures his girlfriend in his arms for a hug. Her arms wrap around his waist as his arms go around her shoulders, dipping his head down to kiss her on the head.

“I can’t believe you made it!” you hear him speak with excitement, expressing more words of happiness as he guides her to another part of the room.

You don’t miss the way her eyes glare in your direction, and you’re not afraid to give her a look back.

Rachel was nice when you met her. You actually liked her, despite your crush on Luke, and you were rooting for the two. But, a couple months ago during a stressful week, she turned on you. Her attitude towards you shifted, almost as if you had disrespected her and her bloodline. She would always act as if you weren’t in the room, and when plans were made with the boys, she would “accidentally” leave you out. It was embarrassing for you when you’d find out your friends went out, calling you to find out why you didn’t come. Due to the embarrassment, you would go along with it, making up some excuse as to why you were absent.

None of the boys, to your knowledge at least, have caught on to her antics, and you honestly hope they don’t. Whatever it is you did to her, you want to find out for yourself so you can fix it.

With a sigh, you stand from the couch, stretching your arms briefly before wandering to Calum, who stood in the shower room connected to the dressing room.

“Hey,” you greeted him with a warm smile.

He smiles back, finishing his drink before tossing the plastic cup in the trash. He grabs his bass, which was placed on the counter, and holds it out to you.

“You want me to see if it sounds out of tune?” you jokingly ask.

He nods, “Yeah, I feel like one of the chords might be flat.”

You chuckle as you pluck a random chord. His instruments are always tuned before it’s time to play. One of his pre-show nervous ticks was the constant doubt of his instruments being playable.

“It’s fine, Calum.”

The doubt shows on his face as he brings his guitar back to himself, putting it on and checking the chords himself, but it doesn’t last long as Ashton’s voice calls everyone to the center of the room.

Walking with Calum to where the rest of the crew was, you notice how attached Luke was to Rachel. Joint at the hip, arms wrapped around each other; it was annoying.

“Show starts in ten,” Ashton gains your attention, holding up a cup as Michael hands Calum a similar cup before doing the same to Luke. The three follow the drummer’s action as he continues, “let’s make this show fuckin’ awesome.”

The crew cheers, dying down quickly as Michael gives his thoughts, “We worked our asses off for this album, I don’t have any doubts about it. We got this, guys!”

The cheers resume as those with a drink take a celebratory sip before placing their empty cup on a surface near them.

Calum leaves your side to join Michael while Ashton heads to you.

“You excited?” he asks, putting his right arm around your shoulders with a large smile.

“Yeah!” you return the smile, “What about you? Nervous like the others?”

He shakes his head, crinkling his nose, “I’m not too nervous. I’m just happy to play again.”

You’re about to ask him what song he was the most excited to play, starting to get into the conversation but yet again you are interrupted by Rachel.

“Hey, Ash,” she greets him, Luke following close behind her as his arms make their way back around her shoulders again.

“Hi, Rachel,” Ashton nods his head at her – his eyes dance to Luke briefly before returning to Rachel’s, “didn’t think you’d make it.”

“Couldn’t miss your big show,” she smiles, looking up at her boyfriend as she pats his stomach.

Luke laughs, gently pushing her hand away from him, “I’m surprised, too—“ he grabs the guitar a crew member hands him, left arm lifting itself from Rachel’s shoulder as he slips the strap over his head, “—because her schedule did not look clear enough, but here she is.”

“Three minutes,” a different crew member rushes out, patting Luke and Ashton’s shoulders before rushing to tell the others.

“See you after,” Luke shifts his guitar away from Rachel before leaning down to kiss her on the lips – something you wish you didn’t see – and turning around to head out of the dressing room.

Ashton gives you a quick hug, “Excited for the lights,” he mumbles in your ear before turning to Rachel to give her a side hug.

It doesn’t go unnoticed how Rachel’s eyes glared at you by Ashton, but he doesn’t mention it as he heads out with the other guys towards the stage.

As a majority of the crew follow them out, you stay behind to clean up the empty cups and other trash, trying to occupy yourself as Rachel too stayed behind.

Her eyes followed you as you moved about the room, carrying the small plastic bag with you as it fills up with cups and wrappers. You could feel the glare burning into your side and back as you paid her no mind.

When it was just you two left, the bass from their opening song was heard and felt as you finished picking up the garbage.

“For how long have you liked Luke?”

You froze. Your head whipped towards Rachel, wide-eyed as you glanced around the room to make sure it was just the two of you.

“What…what are you talking about?” You can feel an extreme warmth rising up from the bottom of your back, all the way to your face, nervousness clouding your brain as she stares you down.

“Luke—,” she crosses her arms and moves to the couch, “how long have you liked Luke?”

“I don’t—I,” you stutter, your stomach dropping as you realize you’ve been caught.

His girlfriend knows you like him.

“Cut the bullshit,” she spits, “I can see it. You’ve been friends with him for years, you obviously caught feelings for him.”

You shake your head, standing up straight to give off the illusion of confidence. Turning your back to her and towards the door, “I don’t have to talk to you.”

You opted for walking out of the dressing room and go watch the band from the side of the stage, but you made a quick stop in the bathroom to splash cold water on your face.

You did what you could to avoid her during their performance. You knew she was watching you, seething at how you ended the conversation so fast.

Rachel wanted to break you down, find the reason why you like him and separate you two for as long as it takes to make him fall in love with her. She finds you a problem in their relationship because of how close you and Luke are, because of how long you’ve known each other. A threat to her and her relationship.

An hour and a half later, the show is finished and the whoops and cheers from the crowd indicate the album was very well received. That thought swept the interaction with Rachel from earlier under the rug as the boys’ adrenaline spread throughout the crew.

Ashton was first to greet you, sweaty and ready to envelop you in a hug but you’re quick to avoid it, ducking down just as his arms closed around the space where your head was. He laughs it off, heading for his next victim.

Next was Calum, who grabbed a drink from Andy and gulped it down. He had a smile on his face after, only growing wider when he saw you. “I think they liked it!”

“Bass in tune, huh?” you return, patting his back as he passes you to go to the next person.

Michael is the third, taking off his hat (which made you question why he was so worried about his hairstyle that he spent at least fifteen minutes playing with before the show). He stops in front of you, phone in hand as he takes a picture of the two of you: a tradition he started a few tours ago as a joke.

Finally, Luke makes his way towards you, ready to ramble about the show but is brisked away by Rachel. He doesn’t even glance over at you after he’s taken away towards the hall.

Entering the dressing room where the rest of the boys sat, you saw Michael talking animatedly on the phone, Calum laying across the couch with an arm over his eyes, and Ashton wiping off excess sweat with a towel. He was the first one to notice you.

“Ready for that hug?” he asks as you approach him.

“Why not.”

You hug each other, smiling as you pulled away. In the distance, over the cool-down music, you hear Luke’s laughter in the hall. Knowing he’s with Rachel makes you wonder if she’s told him about her suspicions, and that thought alone makes you clam up all over again.

Ashton immediately notices, tilting his head as he asks you what’s wrong.

“Nothing,” you quickly reply, eyes focusing on him.

He notices how jittery you seem, but he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable so he says nothing.

“Guys,” Andy comes in with his camera in hand, “we need to take a few photos.”

The three agree and follow the photographer out. You move to the snack table for a bottle of water, but before you can take a sip, someone clears their throat in the doorway.

You roll your eyes immediately because you know who it is. You don’t pay her any attention and instead take the sip of water you need.

“We need to finish that conversation you oh-so rudely ended,” Rachel moves into the room, keeping her voice down as she crosses her arms.

“We don’t need to finish anything.”

She scoffs, “I asked you a question, and you were so quick to avoid it. I think you’re proving a point.”

“What point?” you turn to look at her, “I know you don’t like me but I don’t know why, can we start with that?”

“Like I said before, I know you like Luke. He’s my boyfriend, and I don’t like how he’s close to you.”

“We grew up together,” you state, standing tall as you glare at her, “of course we’re going to be close.”

“Well I don’t like it,” she huffs.

You shake your head with a sigh, closing the lid to the bottle as you turn your back to her. You were getting angry at the fact that someone who didn’t know Luke as long as you did was hinting that you should stay away from him.

“Stop hanging out with him.”

A curt laugh escapes you before you can stop it, “Are you jealous of our friendship?”

“No,” she smirks, “but I know you’re jealous of our relationship.”

She’s right; you’re only a little jealous of their relationship, but it’s not something you want to risk your friendship with.

You open your mouth to defend yourself, but you’re caught off-guard when nothing comes out. The one opportunity to make her believe you don’t like her boyfriend and you can’t say anything.

Giving up with sinking shoulders, you glance at the door before looking back at her. Grimacing at her knowing smile, “How did you find out?”

She hums, “It was easy. I love him, so I know what it looks like to look at someone you love. You made it so obvious, I’m surprised no one else found out!”

You grit your teeth. You did your damn best to make sure no one, especially Luke or Rachel, know how you feel about him.

“I’m not intimidated by you,” she walks closer to you, arms uncrossing as her hands move to her hips, “but I won’t deny the fact that you and Luke have chemistry.”

“What will it take—” you place the bottle back on the table, “—for you to leave me alone?”

“Do the same to him.”

“What?”

“Leave him alone, unfriend him,” she shrugs, “simple as that.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you walk around her to the door, ready to end the conversation.

“Do that or I’ll tell him,” with a harsh tone she walks towards you, grabbing your arm to stop you from walking.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Okay,” another voice from the doorway makes the two of you jump, “that’s enough.”

Ashton walks into the room, grabbing Rachel’s hand and removing it from your arm.

“W—” she stutters out as she watches the tall man move to stand in front of you.

“I came back for my drumsticks—” his eyes shift to the object sticking out of his bag before dropping down to Rachel, “—but instead I find you, what, threatening a good friend of ours?”

Rachel is speechless while you’re frozen. It was embarrassing enough for one person to find out about your crush on Luke, but now Ashton might know and you want to go into hiding.

“Let it go,” you tug on Ashton’s shirt to get his attention but he doesn’t move.

“Telling someone who’s known your boyfriend longer than your relationship to just abandon him is low, Rachel. Don’t think the way you’ve been treating our friends has gone unnoticed.”

You hear more footsteps approaching the room, and now you wish the ground can swallow you up. You don’t want all this attention on you.

“What’s happening here?” Michael says as he peeks into the room, Luke behind him as Calum leans against the other side of the doorway.

“Nothing—,” Rachel tries to deflect but with four pairs of eyes on her, it becomes too much. Tears start pouring out, and you’re in disbelief.

How can she be the one crying after she was the one who was rude to you?

Luke immediately rushes in, creating a beeline right to her side to wrap her in his arms.

His eyes dart to yours, an emotion on his face of something you’ve never seen, but you know it’s not good.

“What did you do?”

You’re taken back by his tone and the way his angry eyes stare you down. It hurts because instead of staying neutral and finding out what exactly happened, he immediately chose a side: a side of someone he’s known for only for a short amount of time.

“Mate,” Ashton speaks up for you, “I think you’re asking the wrong person that.”

“No,” Luke’s voice raises, eyes moving from yours to stare into his band mate’s, “I’m asking the right person.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, your eyes welling with tears as the weight of everything happening within the last ten minutes starts to bring you down. Your eyes move away from the ones boring into yours, and with a tremble in your voice, “I didn’t do anything. She’s the one who started—.”

“Bullshit!” Luke’s roar cuts you off, “Absolute bullshit, because if she started it, then why is she the only one crying?!”

The two other guys move in to the room to mediate the situation.

“Luke, calm down,” Michael’s hands raise to the motion of ‘calm down’ as he tries to get Luke’s attention.

“There’s gotta be more to the story,” Calum moves to your side, checking on you briefly.

“Don’t,” Luke states as he watches Calum grab your shoulders to move you out of the room.

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting?” Ashton questions. He watches Luke soothingly rub Rachel’s back, wiping her tears with his free hand.

“My girlfriend is crying and you two were the only ones in here,” Luke replies, gently grabbing Rachel’s arms so he can look directly into her eyes, “what happened, babe?”

“I asked them—,” Rachel sniffles, continuing her façade, “—if they needed any help cleaning the room earlier and they yelled at—at me and told me to go away. Then after the show when you guys went for your photos, I came here to apologize to her, even though I didn’t do anything wrong.”

She was selling it; the tears, the sniffling, the stutters, and hiccups. A great actress who knows what she wants.

“That’s not true,” you inhale, your ears feeling warm and ringing, “she has had a problem with me lately and I don’t know why!”

Luke scoffs, shaking his head, wrapping Rachel in his arms again.

“C’mon,” Michael mumbles, wanting to leave the room.

Ashton turns around, watching your face go from pleading to blank as the tears fall from your eyes. He turns his head to face Luke, “You’re unbelievable,” he grabs your shoulders and starts to move you out of the room, “let’s go.”

Michael is already out of the room, the tension too much for him and ruining the after-show vibe. Calum is waiting by the door ready to help lead you out. Ashton has you turned around, pushing you towards the door.

“Wait, Luke,” you mumble, getting out of Ashton’s hold and turning back to face Luke.

He doesn’t look at you, sighing as he rubs Rachel’s head as it’s against his chest.

“Please,” you plead, begging him to look at you and when he does, you ask, “who do you believe?”

“What?”

“Who do you believe, Luke,” you gulp with a sniffle, “me or her?”

For a moment, you think you see hesitation. His jaw tenses as he stares you down, his best friend for years and someone he turned to when times got tough. He then looks down at the girl in his arms, someone he loves crying into his chest.

He sighs again, this time soft, before looking up to meet your eyes. He does notice the tears, the pain etched on your face as his other best friends watch them. “I believe Rachel.”

“This is fucking stupid,” Ashton mutters as he gently grabs your shoulders again to lead you out of the room.

You let the tears fall freely, not meeting any of the boys’ eyes as you kept your head face down.

You’ve lost your best friend. He chose someone else over you, a lie he chose to believe.

Whatever it was that made you catch feelings for your best friend, you wish you can find it and destroy it, along with any other memory you’ve made with him. After tonight, you want him erased from your cherished memories.

---

part two!

[cristobalrios]

Picard Season 2 Spoilers:

Still mourning the loss of so many wonderful Star Trek: Picard characters and so many characters I was looking forward to seeing developed more as the show went on.

First losses: Zhaban, I really wanted to see more of you. I know the actor wasn't available, but it's still devastating that they killed him off, and didn't just write him as being away for the one episode they spent where we would see him. I was sad that Laris and Zhaban didn't get much in s1, hoped that they would show them back at Chateau Picard for everyone to meet them properly, and we didn't even get that in s2. It's disappointing.

The Holos: You have no idea how mad I am that they just... had Seven combine the holos into Emmet. After everything with Doc, after they fought for the synths, after everything the xBs go through, just throwing four holograms away and violating the fifth like that... With how close Seven was to Doc? With how much she has defended him? How he'd helped her reconnect with her individuality as he was exploring his own development into sentience? Did they really just... Curb the sentience of holograms that much? It would be plausible if they did that because of the synth ban, but there has never been any mention of this at all, plus the synth ban was lifted (in a very hand-wavy way) at the end of s1. I am still grateful for the small time with Emmet that we did get, though. I was worried we wouldn't get the holos at all in s2, so at least we got some Emmet. I miss Ian (who only got one episode, where each of the others got at least a scene in two episodes), Emil, Enoch and Steward (aka Mr. Hospitality to those who don't know that little bit of fanon lore). And Emmet, since he's probably not going to be in s3. Although unlike most of the rest of the cast, Santi has *not* specifically stated that he's not going to be in s3. Rios was written out, all the other holos were written out, but Prime!Sirena is still there and therefore so is Emmet, it's possible that Emmet might have a scene in s3? If we still get any of La Sirena? (Not getting my hopes up for that).

Soji: Soji had quite a journey in s1, and I was looking forward to seeing how that goes moving forward for s2, but unfortunately, she got a single scene in the first episode, and... Nothing else. Not even a mention in the finale. And she's not going to be in s3. It's just... Strange, because Brent Spiner will be in s3, and who is he going to play? It would have been interesting to see her with him, possibly more Altan? Not sure why, especially if we're not dealing with the synths? Or if we are, we're just not dealing with Soji? And Soji has lost Agnes now. They'll have to explain that one to her. That will be fun. Maybe Borgnes will pay her a visit. Soji deserves to know what happened to Agnes. I really thought she'd be in s3. I'd love to see the TNG crew meet her, as Data's daughter.

Elnor: I hate that you were fridged for Raffi's angst. I hate that we had two and slightly more episodes with you, and small glimpses of you as a hallucination, in a flashback, and as a hologram (although Holo!Elnor - Holonor? - did give us mobile emitter confirmation for at least the Confederation timeline), and I hate that although they brought you back, you're still not going to be in s3. I was fascinated at where they put you, did not see Elnor joining Starfleet Academy coming, but it's adorable and I would have really liked to see more of his journey with it and I am so sad we won't be getting that, at least not in PIC s3. Maybe, maaaybe, sometime later?

Agnes: Honestly, this New Borg intrigues me, especially because it doesn't at all erase the Old Borg. They still existed. Nothing about them has changed. There's just this other, different Borg Collective, morally gray and I have Thoughts about if Agnes's "Benevolent Borg's Consensual Collective" is actually benevolent or consensual, given that the premise is they go to the desperate and the dying and give them a last-second deus-ex-machina out in joining their collective (with the alternative being... death, not caused by them, but still). It's... All pretty uncomfortable still, but fascinating, and I would be interested in seeing how this Borg, who are apparently joining the Federation? will be seen by the growing xB community in and near Federation space. Unfortunately, although we were dealing with the Borg in s2, not much with the xBs, although this is another concept I am Very interested in. I am just thinking of Borgnes going to Coppelius, with the synths and the xBs who remained there from the crashed Artifact. I want Coppelius to become the AI and Cyborg Ardani. I don't like how they made Cris and Agnes's relationship end, wish they gave them more time together. I don't care if they date or not, but I love how much he cares about her either way, and how gentle he is with her, and I wish they gave us more of that. I actually did like the exes dynamic, actually. Agnes wasn't alone. She had Cris, and she had the rest of her crew. They were there for her and could be again, although they all kind of separated for a bit between seasons. I really wish she would be back. I am also interested in what they did with her (although they could have done better on that design, it looked terrible when they revealed her face).

Laris: What even was the point in the barely-there romance plot with Picard if she isn't even going to be in s3? I really thought they would keep her around. Especially after the ending, so it's terrible that she's not going to be in s3. At least she's still alive, and not drastically changed. Also, it would have been nice to connect her to Tallinn a little more than "oh you must be her ancestor" I really thought she was going to be a Watcher too, maybe even the same Watcher, maybe a descendant, and that she just completely ignored the "Don't Get Involved" rule, and that she was assigned to Picard. Maybe even she and Zhaban were both Watchers assigned to Picard. That would have been cool. It's kind of my headcanon now. I really wanted at the end of s1 to see more of Laris and Zhaban and to see them with the crew, I wanted them to be officially part of our motley crew. I wanted to see them with Elnor. I wanted to see them with Soji. I wanted more. I will miss them terribly.

Rios: I am... Devastated, obviously, but it's hurting slightly less. I have been ranting for the past week about it, but it's dying down. I have posted several things already with alternate ideas and fix-its, but I am also starting to think about and wonder about possibly canon-compliant stuff. I do not want any canon-compliant, but I won't reject it completely. I just want more Rios. I would not at all have minded Teresa and Ricardo coming to the future with Rios. They should have done that. Seven on the Stargazer where Rios should be still hurts. It all still hurts. I am devastated and I miss him so much. S1 is my happy place. The first episode of S2 is my happy place. The space between the first two seasons is my happy place.

S2 Exclusive characters: Tallinn's death was tragic but heroic. I can't complain that much. Most of these characters I was not expecting to see past s2, so it doesn't hurt as much. It would be nice to see Teresa, Ricardo, Rios, Renee and Young Guinan doing fun Traveler stuff with Wesley and Kore. It was a fun ending for Kore, I'm happy for her and I loved the Wesley cameo, definitely a highlight even if it was out of nowhere. I don't mind because that's kind of the nature of the Travelers, like with Q. They are Deus Ex Machinas and I don't mind that. Could be a Gary Seven spinoff like they wanted. Probably not. But you never know. We finally got SNW after all this time. Adam Soong's ending was not surprising. - I really wanted to get to know Stargazer's crew. I wanted a Rios on the Stargazer spinoff. I really wanted that and I have adopted Moshe, Kemi, Urtern and Sing as my own. This crew is mine now. They had so little screen time but I love them, and they are Rios's crew, thank you and goodbye. I don't think s3 will take place on the Stargazer, which I am relieved by, because that's Cris's ship and it would hurt too much, but in the one episode we had her I grew attached so I will miss her. She is also mine now. Rios, Stargazer and her crew will live in my head rent free from now on. La Sirena is in her shuttlebay, the holos are all there and they are a part of the Stargazer's crew and it's just an eccentricity of the captain the Stargazer's crew has to get used to.

I think we will see more of Q in s3, because it would be strange not to tell us more about how Q is dying when Qs aren't supposed to be able to do that, and I thought John DeLancie said he'd be in both seasons, but that could have been a red herring. I'm not sure. We'll see.

I am glad that Raffi and Seven survived the loss of so many characters this season, and will go on to s3. I am happy for them. And I am looking forward to catching up with old friends. I just wish it did not take away the last season with my new friends. I really hoped we'd see both of these crews together. What a wonderful crossover that could have been. Too many characters, but it would be fun.

Shout out to the characters absolutely didn't die in Picard S1: Hugh and Icheb, still out there in the way that the majority of the cast of Picard are still out there in my heart. Shout out to the characters who did die that I'll still have fun thinking about anyway: Dahj (that was quite a bait and switch!) and her boyfriend Caler, Bruce Maddox, Vandermeer, Jana, Beautiful Flower. Shout out to the villains we won't be seeing again (probably) but were fun anyway: Narissa, Commodore Oh, Sutra (although it would be interesting if they brought her in for s3....), Bjayzl. Shout out to the characters they didn't explore beyond s1: Gabe/Pel & Baby, Narek.

Sad that Picard only got (1) 2 seasons (one and a half?). Looking forward to The Next Generation season 8, with some crossover characters, and that's just how I have to think of it. And take the good parts of S2, and S1, ignore what hurts too much, let my imagination run wild with all the fun ideas seasons 1 and 2 brought up but never followed through on. I will still be watching. But I am separating all of this in my mind, disconnecting them from each other. Rios was the character I attached to on this show, Elnor the second, they fridged Elnor in s2 but left things open for him in the end, and wrote Rios out in a rushed and forced romance I wasn't super into, but I have nothing against Teresa and Ricardo. Cris has a son now. That's... Kind of cute to think about?

The Confederation Timeline is also something that I enjoy speculating about, and I know they crammed a lot more about that universe in those two (primarily one) episodes than I have explored, and the rest can be our imaginations, much like the Mirror Universe. Might even give me some ideas for my Mirror Universe Rios I've been working on. Mirror!Cris still gets an eyepatch in my mind though. He can have the sexy black, the (partially) fingerless leather gloves and the thigh holster Colonel Rios got, though. I will enjoy thinking about the crew Colonel Rios is commanding, and in my head, the Prime Timeline version of Zilah, who was the woman Prime Rios talked to pretending to be Colonel Rios, is one of Cris's crew on the Stargazer.

[dracosaurusrex]

Fireworks. (Draco x Reader)

Summary: In which Draco turns to his best friend, Y/N, for help with his first kiss.

Genre: Fluff; Childhood friends-to-lovers

Wordcount: 1.5k

A/N: I wrote this as soon as I finished my assignments. It’s not perfect, it was rushed, but the temptation was real and there’s most likely going to be a second part. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy it for what it’s worth XD

Coming into Hogwarts for the first three years was defined by many things: An introduction to different magical subjects, the development of house pride, as well the strong encouragement to focus on passing exams and working hard to get good marks. However, wizarding children are not exempt from the rites of passage that were associated with their teenage years. That’s right. They were not exempt from the natural pull of attraction between two individuals, the resultant blooming crushes, which from there can go many different ways. Fourth year was exceptionally characteristic of that. 

While you couldn’t be bothered--you were very much occupied with your studies--a certain Slytherin prince was.

“I can’t believe this, Y/N! It’s absolutely ridiculous!” The blonde boy furiously proclaims as he steps into your room. The sudden slam of the door jolts your senses as the focus you had on your homework immediately disintegrates. You pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes, refraining from letting out a string of foul words.

“What is it now, Draco?” You ask with a hint of annoyance. Your best friend of eleven years flops onto your bed. His arms and legs spread into a starfish shape, while a disturbed expression covers his face. You turn yourself in your chair to face him with an expectant gaze.

“Theodore and Blaise got their first kiss already,” He reveals. You pause for a moment to allow your brain to process what he said. However, a snicker leaves your lips, creating a juxtaposition to his deepening frown.

“You think that’s funny do you? Don’t you see my issue?” You felt bad. He was so obviously conflicted. 

“No, I’m afraid I do not.” He rolls his eyes.

“Don’t you think you’re being a little too...I don’t know...dramatic?” You lifted your hand over your mouth to cover the smile that was threatening to come out.

“Dramatic? Y/N, word spread saying that even Potter got his first. Potter for Merlin sake! Out of all people!” 

“Draco, I know for a fact that that isn’t true. Besides, why does that even matter to you? You never seemed to have a problem with it before.”

“I don’t want to be a lip virgin anymore!” You really didn’t want to laugh. As his best friend, you truly wanted to provide comfort, but his responses have been making it really difficult to do so. The sound of your laugh prompted a groan of frustration from the boy.

“Draco, you’re precious, and I love you so.”

“Yea, well, I can’t say I feel the same way about you right now.” He wriggled in your grasp as you squeezed his arm. 

“Oh come on. I meant no harm, you know that.” Silence overcame you both, allowing you to calm down and settle into the seriousness of his matter.

“Okay, well why don’t we try to make it happen?” His eyebrow quirked at you while you got lost in thought, thinking of a possible plan.

“Do you like anybody?” You finally inquire.

“No.” The firmness in his tone makes you palm your face. The scenario that you’ve come up with shatters into a million pieces in your mind

“Draco, how are we supposed to set this up if you don’t have someone you like?” He shrugged.

“Why does that matter? Can’t I just kiss a random girl I’m attracted to?” You smack his arm.

“Your mother didn’t raise you that way, git.”

“Well I don’t see you kissing anybody! How would you do it?”

“Unlike you, I’m not desperate! Plus, I overhear the girls say that they want their first to be special. It’s supposed to feel like fireworks.” The boy slumps his shoulders, feeling discouraged over your statement. More silence ensues as you take a seat beside him, but his mind is anything but quiet. As your words resound in his thoughts, an idea begins to emerge.

“Hey, Y/N. You say that girls want it to be special, right?” He spoke with a softened tone, which contrasted greatly to the frantic one from earlier on. You nod in response.

“Don’t you think it would be pretty unspecial if the other person sucked at kissing?” 

“I suppose so. I think whether it sucks or not depends on how much either party is attracted to each other.” 

“I want to be good at it.” His straightforwardness makes you choke on your saliva. In turn, he rolls his eyes and pats your back.

“I’m sorry to break it to you, but I highly doubt that anyone is considered ‘good’ for their first kiss.”

“What if I practiced?” You were about to refute his suggestion until realization began to settle in.

“Draco Malfoy, what is going through that idiotic mind of yours?” Suddenly his eyes, which were once glazed with frustration, look into yours with earnest. You knew exactly what he was thinking.

“No, Draco.”

“Come on, Y/N! We’re best friends, and you did say that a first kiss is supposed to feel like fireworks. I bet we won’t even feel fireworks since we’d only be practicing, so surely that doesn’t count as our first kiss, right?” As much as you wanted to refute, the boy had cunningly twisted your words, leaving you at a loss. He was right, though. The both of you had grown up together, and you were so comfortable with one another that something as simple as a kiss shouldn’t be able to destroy you. Right? Additionally, if fireworks was the actual requirement for a proper first kiss, then any ones that occur before that shouldn’t count. How bad could it be really?

You bit your lip for a moment while Draco looked at you expectantly. When you glanced up to meet his familiar silver eyes, you felt your heart thump. This doesn’t mean anything, so it won’t count. You thought.

“Fine.” Relief filled his features as he scooted closer to you. You could feel your heart rate increasing exponentially when his breath softly brushes against your skin. It’s clear to you that in the spur of the moment, there wasn’t much going on in his head except for the fact that this was merely a practice run.

“How do we do this?” The temptation to smack his face was so strong, but you held yourself back. You sighed instead.

“I think I remember them saying that they like it when you do this.” With your voice soft, you grab his hands and plant them on your cheeks. 

“Like this?” He asks. You release a small, ‘mhm’ as you let go of your hold. His grip induces your head to tilt upward, however you do your best to look at anything and everything except his eyes. 

“What next?” 

“Next, you lean in closer.” The boy stiffly lowers his head, and the warmth of his breath is more apparent now.

“You got to lean in much closer than that, Malfoy.” The sight of your lips reduces him into mush, making him realize that this moment meant more to him than what he had initially planned. Nevertheless, he attempts to close the distance even more.

“Can you, uh, close your eyes?” You take heed to his request. When he ensures that they were shut, he proceeds to lower himself to the point that his lips were practically a hair’s width away from yours. The suspense has your pulse beating against your ears. Nothing in your entire life had prepared you for that very moment.

Suddenly, the fireworks that you didn’t expect to feel erupted within your chest the instant that his lips are on yours. He moves slowly, motions are a bit clumsy, but the feeling remains all the same. It was when you recall that the boy kissing you was indeed your best friend that you knew something was about to change. With your eyes closed, and his hands still on your cheeks, you engrained the feel of his lips in your mind, oblivious to the fact that he was doing the same. It was way better than you had expected it to be--than how you wanted it to be--and you weren’t sure it was because it’s your first time also or if it was because it was him who you were sharing the moment with. Whatever it was, the need for more only increased when he parted from you.

You look into his eyes. They convey an expression that you can’t discern.

“Oh shit.” The words mindlessly spill from your mouth, but Draco’s gaze remains the same. Your face was so warm, you were certain that he had felt too.

“I think,” He starts. His eyes trail from your y/e/c orbs to your lips, “I need more practice.” 

The boy starts leaning in once more. This time, he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and caresses your neck before placing a long, yet single kiss on you. Silence fills you both when you separate. The hand that was rested on your neck is placed on his lap, while yours remain on your sides.

“Was it good?” He asks. You bit your lip, thinking about what effect your next response will have on your friendship.

“I think we need more practice.”

Part 2

A/N: Hi! Thanks for reading! I want to try my best to milk out any ideas despite my tight schedule. Writing is an escape, and creates balance in my life. With that being said, I hope you liked it. Feedback is very much appreciated!

Tagging:

@beiahadid @hahee154hq @mushi98 @stretchyice @dracosathenaeum @dreaming-about-fanfictions @saby06143 @rottenhexrt @littlethie @amithatemo 

If you’d like to be tagged, there’s link to a form on my masterlist :3

[yungbludy]

the hills have eyes

plot ↬ being attracted to one overwhelming person known as yungblud is alresdy too much for you. adding mgk in the mix is even worse.

warnings ↬ there’s tension here yes yes, smut!! threesome!! fingering & handjobs, writing colson is so fun i didn’t realize how hot he was lol 😳, hint at something going on between colson & dom, dom & reader like each other, maybe a pt 2?

a/n ↬ i know y’all have been wanting this for the LONGEST, and it’s easily my most requested fic. enjoy it!

When you left college with a degree in music production, you never would’ve expected to land in the studio of Yungblud, a young but upcoming artist with his own charm to set him apart from the rest. He was easily the most hyperactive artist you’ve worked with, someone with a truly pure heart that cared deeply for his music and his fans. It was a breath of fresh air, because out of all the artists you’ve worked with—big and small, you don’t think you’ve ever come across someone so genuine.

It was almost fate how you went from being in the studio with him every other week to nearly every day. He loved your presence; you made him see things differently, made him hear things he had never heard before. You made him feel smarter, more experienced.

A friendship blossomed. It was nice, because you didn’t have that many friends when you left college. Dominic introduced you to other people too, such as his band mate Adam, and they adored you. You were the calm before the storm of Dominic in their eyes. You balanced each other out, like some rock n’ roll version of a Yin and Yang.

Before you would hang out in groups. You, Dominic, and maybe a few other friends attending concerts or going to a restaurant together. You liked it—these people knew you and liked you, and you felt like you had a place.

You didn’t know when the... shift started. When it started becoming just you, and Dominic. When he texted you if you wanted to hang out at his place, (not a date or anything, just hanging out lol 🖤). When you still saw your friends, but you were seeing Dominic’s face more and more.

But you knew as soon as that started happening, that the feelings you had for Dominic—as a friend and as a partner, started becoming way too deep way too fast.

And honestly? It scared you. Your last relationship was in college and that didn’t go so well because you both had different outlooks on how you wanted to continue your life. You weren’t ever a relationship type of person and barely found yourself developing fucking crushes on people.

But you were crushing on Dominic. Hard.

As cliche as it sounds, being around him gave you literal butterflies. Seeing texts from him made you smile, and when his arms wrapped around you and he looked at you with all his teeth out, his eyes clenched shut—God. You were falling, and you were falling hard.

That was, until, Colson came into the mix.

You liked some of his music. You weren’t a big fan of “MGK”, and only really knew about him because of the whole beef he had with Eminem. You remembered that one song—fucking Wild Boy, being played in a few clubs and parties during college, but you didn’t have any liking towards him.

But... wow. He and Dominic together were a force to be reckoned with.

Colson was a good person. A loving father and a talented individual—not to mention he was also fucking hilarious too. Having him around in the studio guaranteed no bad days, because he could also make you feel better with a corny joke or a funny assortment of curse words.

You liked him, over time. Not to mention he was drop dead gorgeous, tall and tatted and pierced and just... fuck. It would be a lie if you said you weren’t intimidated by his presence.

But in reality, he was a sweetheart. A gentleman.

So why did you start feeling butterflies for him too?

Having a crush on two people just seemed so out of this world to you that you didn’t even understand it. It made no sense. You and Dominic had known each other longer, and you weren’t dumb—you knew he liked you back. But with Colson.. you didn’t know if those butterflies were in your stomach, or if they were somewhere were they definitely, definitely shouldn’t fucking be.

You were good at controlling yourself when it came to these two. It had been a few weeks since you’ve met Colson and two months since you met Dominic. They were working on music together—a song, that they didn’t know what to title yet, and you were right there, helping them with everything.

This also meant that they were together. All. Of. The. Time.

Having two extremely attractive men, men that you were also extremely attracted too together all the time was going to be very bad for your health. But all three of you had a main goal at the end of the day, and that was to make a song together. They wanted to make a song that pertained to them, that took both of their struggles and related them to each other. Being Dominic’s right-hand-man at this point, you were more than happy to oblige in helping.

But you just didn’t know what you were getting yourself into.

“Maybe some shit that’s like, kinda emo, kinda not?”

“Kells, man... you need to /make/ that make sense.”

You can’t help the laugh that leaves you, smiling when both of their heads turn towards you.

“Y’all are just cute when you bicker.”

“Y/NNNNN,” Colson whines a little, his arms stretching to drape over your body. God, he has so many tattoos that you couldn’t possibly count them on your two hands and feet. “Help us. I’ve never been this stuck on a song.”

“Well, a mix of punk and rap, right?” You asked, humming as you scoot up to your monitor, going through a list of sample beats you always stored when songs were being made.

“That sounds ‘bout right,” Dominic spoke, both of his elbows being placed on his knees as he looked up at you. “Think that’s a perfect mix of us two, yeah?”

You picked out some beats—layering some, taking some away. While this process could be therapeutic to you, it could be also quite annoying, and it would’ve been if it wasn’t for the two grown men looming over your shoulder.

“What about this one,” you almost jumped as you heard Colson right near your ear, his voice powered into a whisper. He reached over you, his skin brushing against yours and you had to force yourself to look at the screen. Jesus Christ, you really needed to get laid. “How’s that?”

“‘ts good. I like it fo’ now!” Dominic joked, and a laugh rumbled in you stomach. “If we don’t like it, we could always change it tomoro or somethin’.”

“Okay, well, beats settled... now we need some lyrics.” you spoke, backing up a little—you would’ve backed up farther if Colson’s arm wasn’t on the back of your chair. “Got any?”

Silence. You rolled your eyes—you had told them days prior to come with lyrics. Nothing had to rhyme, but something to make an idea off of.

“Too busy clubbing to write lyrics-great.” you huffed, shaking your head as you stood to leave, but two hands reached out to stop you.

“Sorryyy, that’s our fault, really.” Colson spoke, locking eyes with you when you turned to look at the both of them. “Let’s make some together, yeah? All three of us motherfuckers. You know we couldn’t make up good lyrics without you anyway.”

You caved. Goddammit, he was so good at charming you and so good at fucking /flirting/. You found yourself sitting back down with a notebook out in just a few minutes of playful begging from the two of them.

“Since I watched The Hills Have Eyes for the first time yesterday with you two wankstains, I think that should be incorporated into here~” Dominic giggled, scribbling down the title of the infamous horror movie on a piece of notebook paper. “Where did all that shit happen, by the way? New York, Cali, Las Ve-“

“No, dipshit, Nevada. Did you watch the movie at all?” Colson huffed, reaching over to flick Dominic in the center of his forehead, in which the British male playfully bit down on Colson’s finger. The blonde grinned, and your eyebrows furrowed. What the hell?

“Nevada’s by Cali so we’re using California.” Dominic shrugged, scribbling more words down. “How’s... I wunna hide in the hills of California—but these hills have eyes, and I have paranoia?”

It took you a minute but you eventually nodded at it. “If we revise it a little bit then—yeah, that could work!”

“Awesome! Maybe you should get on your shit, Kells.” Dominic teased him, pink tongue pointing out at Colson, and your lips twitched.

“Fuck off.” Colson continued that grin—that little smirk, like they both knew something you didn’t. The day dragged on—more lyrics, more laughing, more inside jokes. By the time the session ended you were exhausted, your head kinda hurt, and you wanted nothing more than to head home and sleep, but Dominic stopped you before you left completely.

“Are you alright?” he asked, your hand in his as he looked at you with slight worry. His hair was pushed back, so he looked just too adorable with his forehead out and crinkled. He was worried. Worried about you, and that made your heart flutter.

“I think I’m good, just a little tired,” you offered a reassuring smile, lifting your bag up to your shoulder. “Why?”

“You seemed a little out of it,” he remarked, keeping your hand in his as he started to walk next to you. This was normal—Dominic walking you out to your car, then watching you drive to your apartment after he gave you a kiss goodbye, of course; some of them were on your forehead, some cheeks, and most recently, he’s teasingly brushed his lips against yours, only to see you blush and frantically push him away. “Just making sure you’re alright.”

“I’ll be okay, Dom,” you snicker, but you just love the fact that he can see through you. See when you’re uncomfortable or feel weird. “Thanks, though.”

“Of course darlin’,” his voice has dropped in volume and when you look at him, his eyes are boring into yours. You blink. “Drive home safe, yeah?!”

Both of his hands grab your face, squishing your cheeks—and you sputter a laugh as he kisses all over your face. Covering your forehead, your nose, your cheeks—and finally resting at your lips.

It’s like time has stopped. You smile, feeling warm—his hands haven’t left your face and you can feel his warm breath against your mouth. He leans in closer, and you feel that familiar thrum in your chest, his lips brushing against yours one, two, three times, before he only pecks you and pulls away.

You don’t even remember closing your eyes, but when they open, he’s walking back into the building, leaving you feeling lost.

To make it up for you for yesterday, the dynamic duo wanted to spend the entire day getting a good portion of the song done. This meant you had to wake up at nine am to be at the studio, something you were definitely not looking forward to, but you couldn’t complain about it. You three had a pretty good work ethnic, so you knew once you would get there, time would probably fly by.

You came to the studio in some fuzzy Hello Kitty pajama pants and a long sleeved shirt, not bothering to dress up too much since you would possibly be here all day. You didn’t look your best, but by the way Dominic’s eyes scanned you when you walked into the studio, you doubted he really cared.

“Well hello kitty-kat,” you heard Colson’s amused tone from the small couch by the door behind you, his body approaching yours to walk past you. His hand slipped over your waist, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. “Doesn’t Y/N just look the absolute cutest.”

“Shut up, asshole.” You grumbled, your cheeks hot as you ditched your slippers and made your way to your seat. You stretched, hearing some bones crack in your back, a tired yawn leaving your lips before returning to your sitting position and opening up your notebook. “So. Where are we starting today?”

When you looked up, both of them looked a little dazed—but the expressions disappeared in just a few seconds. That was weird.

“Welllll, I think I’ve got a title,” Dominic grinned cheekily, standing up with his hands clasped. “I liked what ya said yesterday... I think I’m good. That sounds pretty—American, doesn’t it?”

“Eh...” you started, but quickly took it back when Dominic’s face fell almost comically. “No! It’s not bad, but, I don’t know... how about another word, other than good?”

“Fine?” Dominic asked, looking at you with a smirk. Confusion racked through you.

“Okay,” Colson spoke up, reading over the page of lyrics with narrowed, concentrated eyes. “I think I’m okay.”

You contemplated it. It reminded you of My Chemical Romance, but there wasn’t anything wrong with that... their fans would probably like that, too.”

“I think I’m okay. Yeah, I like that.” you smiled, moving to your monitor to title the beats you already had. I Think I’m Okay.

“Perfect.” you beamed. “Now let’s get to work.”

The day went by pretty smoothly. Dominic and Colson worked better than you thought, and in your opinion, you were the icing to their cake. Being a producer meant you were there to perfect things—add something to make them sound just a tad bit better, to make the song flow just a little smoother. Perfecting the beats was something you absolutely adored to do, especially when you felt them both staring at the side of your face as you did it.

They admired you. And that sent shivers down your spine.

“Jesus fuck, ‘m hungry.” you grumbled. The clock above your head read two pm, meaning you had been here for six hours total. It wouldn’t have seemed like that if your stomach wasn’t grumbling like crazy.

“We can tell.” Colson joked, his fingers poking at your tummy. “Kitty’s talking to us.”

You knew it didn’t mean to be an innuendo, but you took it that way, and you’re sure Dominic probably did too with the expression that crossed his face.

“I’ll order some pizza.” Dominic sung out, British accent flowing through the air as he stood to grab his phone and leave. You had been alone with Colson once before, but that was before you recognized your attraction towards the male. Now, you were very, very aware of the fact.

“Cmon kitty, you’ve been sitting in that chair for hours and I know that ass hurts,” Colson smirked knowingly, grabbing your hands to lift you out of your seat. “Lemme help you stretch~”

“I don’t need help, you damn skyscraper.” You said stubbornly, but Colson paid no mind to you, grabbing both of your arms and lifting them above your head. It did make you feel much better, and you would’ve stayed in the position if his long fingers didn’t suddenly dig in your sides and under your armpit.

“I-get off of me!” you laughed loudly, squirming in his tight hold as he squeezed you even closer to his body. You could feel his chest press against your back, but you weren’t focused on it, just how much you were laughing from his antics.

“Hell nah! I’ve barely seen you laugh today, kitty~” he purred into your ear, and your thighs clenched. “Keep on fighting, nothing will happen babe.”

“Fuck you!” you shouted, successfully finding your way out of his grasp, but that didn’t stop him at all. He grabbed you again and while he did so, you were moving backwards—eventually landing you both on the small couch in the room. You wiggled your arms through his grip, letting your fingers dig into his sides in a similar manner—and your smile hurt with how loud he started laughing afterwards. You were sure after the short five minutes the tickle attack took that you were all over the place, and so was he—panting on top of you with both arms over your body.

“You’re an asshole.” you murmured against his shoulder, since his body was draped over yours. You wished it would’ve stayed that way, because he lifted himself, and you turned into jelly with how he looked at you—and that stupid fucking grin that spread across his face.

“Got you to laugh, didn’t I?” he asked, rolling off of you. The warmth that left your body—from your stomach, ribs, and a few inches below your bra, told you that the tickle fight was much, much more than that.

A month had passed since that day. It was more then enough time for more tension filled encounters—more of Colson’s hands on you, more of Dominic’s teasing kisses. It had gotten so bad that you needed to excuse yourself in the middle of a session to calm yourself down in the bathroom, because holy hell. Those boys were a lot—and the fact you had the audacity to think about taking both of them at once. You literally could never.

The song wasn’t that hard to make. With a few more helping hands, plus your expertise and their work as well, it was nearly done. Final vocals just needed to be recorded and some cleans up—and then, I Think I’m Okay would be released to the world.

This Friday would be a night that all three of you would go out clubbing, but you decided to visit the studio to listen to the rough draft the two had recorded previously. You were in matching all black outfits which definitely wasn’t planned. The dress you were wearing was a bit out of your comfort zone, but you decided—why not? You wouldn’t be the only girl there and you knew you looked decent, at least.

“Wow,” you murmur, a little speechless as the rough vocals of I Think I’m Okay fill the studio at full volume. The lights are off because it’s dark, so the only source of light in the room is your monitor. “Wow. We fucked this up.”

“What?!” Dominic shouted, eyes wide. You laughed.

“Not in that way! I mean, we fucked this, in a really good way.” you said, excited, bouncing a little in your seat. “Fuuuck, can’t wait to release this shit.”

Colson’s hand is hot and heavy when you feel it against your thigh, playing with the hem of your dress. “Couldn’t do it without you, kitty.”

You swallow. No, not tonight. You were going to have fun tonight. Not be in a state of sexual frustration because of these two.

“Right,” Dominic hummed, and you freeze when his arm wraps around your waist, his chin on your shoulder. “Y/N, I never really thank ya properly for all you do for me, do I?”

“Huh? Of course you do.” you tell him, but you’re a bit distracted by Colson’s wandering hand. It shifts, moving to the inside of your thigh, rubbing softly at your skin. His thumb is close, too close to your pussy, but you don’t push his hand away, because you don’t want to.

You like it. You want his hand to come closer, just a little closer—

“I don’t,” Dominic whispers, those thick lips brushing against your ear, and you almost jump out of your skin. “I should.”

“Dom...” you whisper nervously, eyes widening when his hand slides to the middle of your back and up your spine, fingers locking at the zipper. The slide of your dress being unzipped goes along perfectly o the tempo of the song, and so does Colson’s molding of your thigh, his hand eventually finding way because your closed legs, pressing right up against your underwear.

“Think the kitty wants me,” Colson sighs huskily, and your jaw drops. Holy fuck. “Am I wrong?”

“Is he?” Dominic presses when you don’t answer, his hand somehow making its way inside your dress, finding its way to your sleeves and yanking them down. Oh, fuck. “Ya want us both, don’t ya darlin’?”

“Oh my god.” is all you can whisper, earning chuckles from both of the men who play so deviously with your body. Colson finds your clit with no help at all, pressing against the little bud, right as Dominic takes both of your breasts out of your bra and palms them hungrily. Two sets of hands touching you makes your head roll back, and you can only comply as one of Colson’s hands presses against your left thigh, spreading your legs open.

“Put your legs on the desk for me, pretty,” he whispers and you do so, heels still on your feet. “Mm, yeah, that’s good—damn, look at you. So fucking hot.”

To your surprise, it seems like Colson is doing most of the talking, since Dominic’s mouth finds itself on one your perked nipples. He sucks it into his mouth, making it all pert and wet and your toes curl against the velvet surface of your shoe.

“When I had you on that couch, I wanted to ram the shit out of you, even if you were wearing those stupid ass pants,” Colson tells you, slipping your panties to the side and dragging his fingers up your slit. You’re almost embarrassed from how wet you sound. “Had to remember the British cunt has a little crush on you, though. Didn’t wanna break his heart.”

“Fuck off, ya asshole.” Dominic’s mouth leaves your breast, cheeks red at the fact that he was just exposed like that. “I was gonna tell her that my fookin self!”

“You’re telling me she didn’t know?” Colson chuckled, one of his hands grabbing your chin to roll your head towards him. “Did you?”

“Mmf—I-I knew,” you murmured helplessly, your back aching as two long, thin fingers push inside of you, spreading themselves. “Always knew.”

“But I like you too, kitty, maybe like you even more than him,” Colson smirks, his mouth pressing against yours, and you bite down on his lip when Dominic bites down against your nipple. “Now we’re both gonna make our girl cum.”

Our girl.

You could cum from those words alone.

Colson’s fingers work magic inside of you, pressing further until you feel lightheaded, then easing themselves out and repeating the process. Dominic’s fingers find your clit, rubbing it quicker then the pink vibrator you used before even getting dressed. Your hands are against both of their thighs as your body grinds down against them, both of their mouths meeting yours at different times, kissing you or letting you moan out against their mouths. I Think I’m Okay plays over and over again with no one to stop it, hiding your loud sounds.

You’re close. So, so close, but you don’t want to cum without giving them some type of pleasure—so, to the best of your ability, you start to unzip their pants, bulges very angry underneath the fabric.

“Ooh, fook yeah,” Dominic whispers, taking his jeans off quickly and wrapping your hand around his cock, going cross eyed at the feeling. “Yeah, jerk my fuckin cock.”

Colson isn’t too far behind in revealing himself. You try to stroke them both, but you’re so overwhelmed that sometimes your pace quickens on one and slows on the other. Their bodies are pressed as tightly as they can be against yours, and sometimes wet fingers find their way against your neck, or grabbing at your chests—with wide open mouths against your face.

“I-I think I’m gonna cum,” your pant out, your hips rolling in circles and your grip on their cocks growing even tighter, causing them to make their own sounds of delight. “So close-“

“Cum, kitty kitty,” Colson tells you, his lips wrapping around your earlobe. “Soak this fucking chair, pretty.”

And that’s exactly what you do.

Dominic busts right after you, feeling your clit spasm against his fingers was enough to send him over the edge. Colson isn’t too far behind, getting extra leverage because of both of your cum covered hands jerking him off until he shoots his seed out as far as it can go. It’s a heavenly sight, and for the first time you hear him whimper—a sound that’ll be engraved in your mind for days.

You three sit there, panting, covered in sweat and cum. You lick your lips, your hearing picking up the two shifting to clean you up and dress you, much to your confusion.

“What? You think you were gonna cum once tonight and that would be it?” Colson chuckled, already helping you out of your chair.

“Just wait till we get to this club,” Dominic continues, his hand tightly groping your ass. “You’re gonna have the night of your fucking life.”

And you’re certain that you will.

[high-functioning-lokipath]

Strange Times - Dr. Steven Strange x Reader - Words: 2,225

A/N: Hope you enjoy it! Sorry if Dr. Strange is a bit OOC because I'm not SUPER experienced with his character but I wanted to give him a shot! Hope you like my other fandom references 😜 Let me know if you pick up on them!

"Y/N," Hawkeye said, walking up to you. "You've got a mission." Your eyebrows raised dramatically as you lifted your gaze from the bowl of cereal you were currently consuming. 

"Me?" You asked mid-chew. Clint rolled his eyes at your manners, or lack thereof, but nodded. 

"You're ready," He assured you. Him, along with the other Avengers, had been training you now for the past few months. While your control over your power had greatly improved, you still weren't completely confident in yourself. "All it involves is catching a guy who'd been working in Research and Development on one of Stark's projects. He apparently decided he could get more money if he stole it and sold it to the other side so we need to catch him before the deal goes through. He should be landing in Madrid now. The deal is set for tomorrow morning. You have until then."

"Okay," You said slowly. "I guess I'll get ready then?" 

"Yep!" He chirped, grinning brightly. You grumbled about the lack of prep time and stalked away trying to hide your nerves. You got dressed and left in record time. The small jet you'd been assigned for your mission had the location pre-entered, thanks again to Hawkeye, so you reviewed the file during the flight. 

"Great!" You groaned, going off on a rant to yourself as you kept reading. "He's stolen an unstable prototype of a personal time travel device! How was this guy not checked out before? Matt Smith doesn't sound suspicious at all!" The computer on the jet beeped at you and you saw that you were approaching the landing site. Quickly putting the file away, you prepared for the inevitable confrontation. Once you landed you carefully made your way to the small hotel Smith was supposedly staying in for the night. Your first obstacle, of course, was persuading the clerk to let you look at the guest list. Once you did, however, you quickly snuck up to his room on the 3rd floor and went in.

"Well well well," You heard someone say once the door closed behind you. You whipped around and saw a shadowy figure in the corner. "I mustn't have made a very strong impression if the Avengers sent me fresh meat. Poor girl. You have no idea what you're up against do you?" He flicked a light on and you saw the prototype in his hand. 

"You're right. I don't. But neither do you," You retorted. Concentrating on the barriers of the room, you lifted the gravity in it while keeping yourself grounded. "You have no idea what I'm capable of," You smirked. "So why don't we make this easier on the both of us and you hand it over now?"

"Well, you make a good argument. But how about no?" He smirked back. You felt a click around your wrists and were suddenly pulled back against the wall. "I have heard of you, my dear," He sneered. "So I was well prepared for any of you." As he revealed the small propulsion device he was wearing, he started gliding towards you, no longer affected by the lack of gravity in the room. "I don't really want to hurt you," he said. "I just want you to watch as everything you've ever known is destroyed!" As he continued monologuing, you noticed orange sparks appearing behind him. At first you thought he was activating the device. But moments later, the sparks turned into a circular portal and a tall man with a red cape stepped through. 

"Hand over the proto-whoa!" He yelled as he was inadvertently affected by your gravity manipulation when he entered the room. His cape though seemed to react and started flapping, pushing him back towards the ground. "As I was saying," He said, clearing his throat and trying to regain his dignity. "Hand it over." 

"Why should I, Strange? Of what use is it to you?"

"Doctor Strange!" You thought. "That's who he is!" You'd heard of him before but had never met or seen him. While you did wonder why he was there, you were awfully glad for the help. 

"I was bored and needed some entertainment," He shrugged. "Now if you don't mind, I'll be taking that now." Strange reached out to grab the device out of the man's hand but you noticed Smith was going to try to fly away. You quickly adjusted the gravity again, keeping everyone on the ground. 

"Hey!" Smith yelled. "That's not nice!" You rolled your eyes and Strange easily snatched the device from him. Smith struggled to reach for it but Strange smirked. 

"Be a dear?" He said to, apparently, his cape. The cape flew off his back and curled it's one corner around the device. It then hovered up near the ceiling, out of reach. 

"So that's why Stark said his costume was creepy," You thought, chuckling lightly. Strange glanced at you oddly but didn't address it. 

"Could you-" He trailed off, motioning slightly around him.

"Oh! Sure!" You replied quickly, letting the gravity return to normal. Smith immediately tried to get away but Strange pulled out an odd glowy rope and whipped it around him effectively restraining him for the moment. 

"Not so fast," He said to the man. Turning to you he motioned for you to come closer. He made short work of the cuffs on your wrists before transferring them to Smith' own hands. "Ok, off you go," He said, opening a portal in front of the man. He unceremoniously shoved him through and closed it behind him. "He'll be taken care of," Strange said to you, motioning for the cape to return to him. He then handed the prototype back to you.

"Thanks," You mumbled, feeling quite silly that you couldn't handle the mission on your own. "Why did you come here anyways? Did Stark or one of the others send you?"

"No, I came on my own. You see, I keep a watch list of individuals and beings from all realms that may be a threat to this world. When Mr. Matt Smith there stole that device, he jumped to the top."

"Oh," You said. "Well, I suppose I'd better get back. I'll probably need to debrief and should probably train a bit more so I can handle myself better next time."

"You did fairly well for someone without much experience although you certainly need more training." You rolled your eyes at his statement. Having heard of his reputation for being snarky, however, you weren't all that fazed. "Perhaps you would like to come to the Sanctum with me? I'm quite sure we have a book that could help you." Now that surprised you. You didn't expect him to be nice at all. Maybe he's not as bad as Loki said he was. 

"So, is the Sanctum a fancy library and you're the fancy librarian?" You joked. He laughed and shook his head.

"The Sanctum is much more than that and Wong is the fancy librarian!" He grinned. He opened a portal in front of you that, apparently, led to the Sanctum. Before stepping through it, though, you remembered your own transportation.

"Oh! Actually I have a jet I came in. Can we take that back? I just know I'll be read the riot act if I leave it behind," You said.

"That would be fine," He replied. "Besides, it will give us more time to get to know each other better." A light blush rose to your cheeks as you followed the Doctor out. 

"Am I crazy or is he flirting with me?" You thought. "Crazy, definitely crazy." As you kept walking, your internal monologue also continued. "He is quite handsome though," you mused. "Kinda looks like that guy from the tv show BFF/N watches."

"Nice cape," You commented, trying to make conversation. The cape seemed to bristle at your comment and he smoothed it softly at his side. 

"It's a cloak, not a cape. And it's the Cloak of Levitation, an ancient relic." 

"Oh," You said quietly. "Sorry."

"Quite alright. It's easily confused to the untrained eye." He paused for a moment before adding, "And thank you." You smiled slightly and continued walking in silence.

"So what's your name?" He asked, once you got in the jet. 

"My name-name? Or my made-up name?"

"Both," He replied, entering the Sanctum's address into the computer. 

"Well, my name is Y/F/N, but I go by Andromeda Nova, or Nova for short."

"Not bad," He said, sitting down in one of the chairs. "So tell me about yourself, Nova." He'd taken off his cape before he sat and now it was hovering near him. 

"Alright," You said nervously. You were slightly intimidated by the more experienced superhero who suddenly seemed to be interrogating you but you went ahead with telling him your story of how you got your powers.

"So you went to the Avengers for help?"

"Yes. I had no idea how to control it and, well, everyone that I had been friends with before were afraid of me except for BFF/N." You giggled slightly and smirked. "I guess you could say you met me at a very strange time in my life." He laughed heartily at your pun and you relaxed a bit. As you continued telling him about your training with the Avengers, you decided to take off your own cape and tossed it over a nearby chair. Eventually, however, you got tired of just hearing your own voice since he kept asking you questions rather than speak himself. "Do you mind if I put on some music while we talk?" 

"Oh not at all!" He replied excitedly. You grabbed the tablet that controlled the sound system and scrolled through the library.

"Any preferences, Strange?"

"Whatever you want." You nodded and scrolled a bit more before finally hitting shuffle on one of your favorite playlists. "And, you can call me Stephen if you want." Seconds after the song started, he smirked.

"Waka Waka, Shakera, 2010." Your jaw dropped, eyebrows raising comically. "Surprised?" You nodded, speechless. "Let's try another, shall we? Computer, next song." The next song started and now it was your turn to grin. Just before he opened his mouth, you beat him to it.

"Ride, Twenty One Pilots, 2015. Computer, next song." He raised one eyebrow, impressed, before closing his eyes to concentrate on the next song. 

"Just The Way You Are, Bruno Mars, 2010," You said at the same time. He smiled widely and let the song continue for the moment. Seeing movement out of the corner of your eye, you got up to look, almost doubling over in a fit of giggles. 

"Should we be concerned?" You asked the doctor, who seemed just as shocked as you when he walked over to see what you were looking at. Apparently Cloak had gotten the dancing bug and decided your cape would make an excellent partner. 

"I have no idea," He replied, biting back a laugh. "It's been a while since he's been with another cape, so," He trailed off, both of you laughing once again. "Wait, is yours a cape or a cloak?"

"Whatever it is, he likes it!" You exclaimed, watching the odd waltz continue. Once your laughter calmed, you noticed he was staring at you. You cleared your throat and looked at him questioningly. "That, um, that's a lovely dress. A, uh, very nice color," He said quickly, stumbling over his words. 

"Uh-huh, sure," You said, sarcastically.

"Really! It is!" He cried, embarrassed that you caught him staring.

"Yeah, well, my BFF keeps saying it's the same color as Sherlock's purple shirt of-woah!" You suddenly were thrown off balance as Cloak flew over and shoved you toward Stephen, who, of course, caught you before you fell. 

"I'm so sorry," He quickly said. "Apparently he needs a reminder that, while he is the Cloak of Levitation, he's not my wingman." He said the last part in almost a hiss, directed at the offending object. Cloak shrugged and, if it had eyes, you were sure it would have rolled them. 

"It's quite alright," You assured him. Realizing you were still in his arms you blushed brightly. "Maybe I should-"

"The music's still playing," He interrupted.

"And?"

"May I have this dance?" He smirked. 

"I suppose," You sighed. "But only because I think you'll be a better partner than capey over there." Cloak, who was still nearby, reached out to whack you for your comment. Strange quickly whipped open a portal instead in front of the fabric and you heard a yell from the other side before Cloak quickly retreated and he closed it. 

"Who was that?" You asked.

"Cloak may or may not have just accidentally slapped Wong's backside." Cloak crossed what you supposed was his arms and had the audacity to look upset. You shook your head and chuckled lightly. 

"I have a strange feeling we'll get along just fine," You smiled, holding your hands out to him for your dance. He smiled back and took your hands, swaying gently to the music. 

"Only time will tell." 

In An Unidentified Location Only One Portal Away

Matt takes a look around to make sure no one is watching him. "Well, it would seem my work here is done," He said, grinning to himself. "Toodle-oo!"

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[stylesnews]

“Feeling good in my skin/ I just keep on dancing,” Harry Styles sings in his latest single, “Treat People With Kindness.” And in the song’s exuberant music video -- which has garnered 17 million YouTube views and counting since its debut on New Year’s Day -- he does just that: Wearing a sequined jacket and bow tie, he chassés, spins and flutters jazz hands like an MGM musical star (with a little help from his equally debonair partner, Fleabag’s Phoebe Waller-Bridge).

Styles shot the video in early 2019 after several weeks of training with choreographer Paul Roberts, a collaborator since his One Direction days. “I think somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew this could be something special,” says Roberts, a veteran stage director and choreographer who’s worked on videos and tours for the likes of Sam Smith, Katy Perry, Diana Ross, and the Spice Girls (their Spiceworld stadium tour).

Watching the explosive fan reaction to Styles’s little known dance talents -- including from the Spice Girls, who've “sent lovely messages" about the video -- Roberts says it seems like "Treat People With Kindness" arrived at the precise right moment. “Most people’s comments are, ‘I’ve not felt that happy for three and a half minutes in a long time,’ or ‘I smiled from ear to ear the whole way through.’ It’s a positive light.”

He spoke to Billboard about Styles’ intensive training process -- and why he wouldn’t be surprised to see him dancing onstage again.

There’s been one pretty overwhelming reaction to this video: “This is the guy who was in the group that insisted they couldn’t dance?!” Did you expect this kind of reaction to Harry dancing? I’ve been with Harry for 10 years: I was with the One Direction boys from the beginning the whole way through their career before they took the hiatus, and they always made a very conscious decision that they didn’t want choreography as part of their brand -- but they did want a kind of disheveled organization in order to allow the cameras and the lighting to stand a chance in terms of presenting them in the best manner possible.

What was very evident to me was that all five of them, and then it obviously became four, they’ve all got their own magic. The only time I’ve experienced that was when I worked with the Spice Girls. I always knew that they had special skills aside from what they were in One Direction, whether it was movement, songwriting, being able to handle the business side of things. For such young lads they were very astute and very decisive.  So, getting together with Harry -- he’s a bit of an alchemist, is Harry. Everything he turns his hand to turns to gold. Where did the initial dance-centric concept come from? Harry and the directors, Ben and Gabe [Turner], sent me a video link to the Nicholas Brothers scene from Stormy Weather and Harry asked me, "How long do you think it would take to dance like this?" I was like, "OK, are you being serious?" "Yeah, I’m being serious."

That is probably one of the most standout dance sequences ever captured on film -- so I knew we were aiming high. I said, "Why don’t we go into a studio and let’s workshop some choreography, some moves, some short sequences, and see what your ability is, see how we can tailor this to make you look the best you can possibly look." Obviously it would take some investment in terms of rehearsal and commitment, I told him it would be mentally and physically exhausting, but I thought, "My God yeah, let’s do it; this will be an adventure."

How long did the whole process take? We started in mid-January 2019, and we rehearsed and workshopped for about four to five weeks before the shoot, every day. Both Harry and Phoebe had other things going on, so, for instance, Phoebe was working on the new Bond movie in Canada, so I sent my assistant to Canada to work with her. I stayed in the U.K. with Harry, and then we went to L.A. where Harry shot two more videos, for “Watermelon Sugar” and “Falling.”

At the end of the “Watermelon Sugar” shoot, he wrapped, got in his car, came to the dance studio and we rehearsed into the night. Knowing how short a time you sometimes get with artists even for really big performances, I thought the rehearsals would dilute and we’d lose momentum, but both Phoebe and Harry were so committed.

What was the process in the studio like with Harry? We didn’t even use his [vocal] track to begin with -- we used different big band songs, some contemporary alternative music. It was just about finding his [movement] language first and foremost.  Then we developed the choreography and sent it to the directors, who gave us feedback. We enhanced the work a bit more, and then once we had some really solid sequences, Ben and Gabe storyboarded the scenes against the timeline of the music.

At this point Harry and Phoebe were still working separately, and then we joined forces in London, where we really started to refine these sequences of choreography we’d developed, trying to find the finesse and the style, almost making sense of the movement for them so they felt they had a dancer’s way of working the movement through the body. You’ve worked with a wide variety of artists, many of whom aren’t dancers first. How do you find, as you put it, the “language” of movement that makes sense for each of them as individuals?

I think the general answer is really communicating -- listening and understanding what the artist’s desire is. And also collaborating, so you don’t get too lost in yourself as a choreographer. What looks good on you might not transcend to the artist, or even necessarily the dancers.

With Harry, what was important within the language of the choreography was that it felt joyful and had personality. Him and Phoebe, with the work she’s done with Fleabag, you associate them and what they do with a sense of style, a real confidence, but at the heart of it it’s entertainment. And with the amount of time and budget we had, which was such a luxury in this day and age, we wanted to do something that pushed both of them out of their comfort zones. We tried to make it as athletic as possible but without compromising them as artists and becoming too comedic. We wanted it to be a bit quaint and cute in places, but we definitely didn’t want it to be thought of as nonsensical or silly.

Harry’s movement in the video is so crisp and precise, even his hands and arm extension look very dancerly. Did that come through a lot of specific work with you? As a songwriter and artist, for Harry it’s about detail, about pushing yourself to be the best. He’s always got questions: "Why are we doing that? Should we be doing this?" We got to a point during the rehearsal period where I brought in a ballet teacher, really to just get Harry and Phoebe to open themselves up from behind their shoulder blades, have an idea of extension, the lines that extend from your center all the way to the tip of your finger. I’d be saying, “Your arms Harry, your arm line!” Asking him to push his shoulders down, lift his carriage up, extend through his breast. And when he hit those lines, he’d be like, “Oh yeah, that feels different.” It’s funny: We spent a couple days apart -- he had to go off and do a gig somewhere -- and I was like, “I hope you’re rehearsing when you’ve got some downtime, dude!” And he sent me a picture in the gym with his arms in the most beautiful balletic arm line! I was like, "Yes, by George, you’ve got it!" Besides the Nicholas Brothers, did you have any particular dance references in mind for the feel of the choreography? I just delved into the MGM archives. Obviously [Fred] Astaire and [Gene] Kelly, the two greats -- especially with Astaire, we loved how sometimes it seems so effortless yet a bit throwaway, not totally totally perfect always.  We enjoyed the moments from him of “I’ll just do a bit of this,” “I’ll just walk off camera left,” the dropping in and out of movement.  We loved the duet “Moses Supposes” from Singin’ in the Rain, for Gene Kelly and Donald O’Connor -- we loved the camaraderie between them, which felt a bit goofball at times, and just that wry smile, the look to the left, knowing your partner is there and has got your back. It feels fizzy, it feels joyful.

And yes, there was a massive core of MGM-ism, but at the same time an absolute huge dollop of Harry-and-Phoebe-ism. It was important to us to feel a bit more contemporary, so again we stay true to Harry and Phoebe as artists. Has Harry indicated any interest in dancing more going forward?

We had a conversation back at the end of the summer about how much we enjoyed the process, and I know he was doing another project where choreography was involved, so we were just talking about it and how he felt. Coming from where he came from to what he was about to do, he felt he could be pushed even further. I don’t know if he got the bug, or if it’s just the way he is as a person, very inquisitive and wanting to keep elevating himself. There’s now been some talk on social media that it can’t be long before Harry does Broadway. What do you think?

I mean, I think with Harry Styles, anything is possible, is it not? I mean, I’m sure because he’s tasted the dance, he’ll inject that along the line in his career. It won’t necessarily be out-and-out dancing, but I guess it’s a bit like Bowie used to do, isn’t it? It’s the showmanship and presentation of the performance. Who knows? He’s just so open-minded and open-hearted — and because he’s so open it allows the universe to come back at him and he’s able to do anything he sets his mind to.  

[captainsimagines]

To Topple A Giant || Chapter Two

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

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

Part 2 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

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

Warnings in this chapter: brief reference/hint to past sexual assault. 

Word Count: 7,500+

A/N: Thank you so much for your excitement about this series! I always smile when I read your comments. Sorry for such a long chapter, but it’s only ten parts and I gotta fit all somewhere lol

~

Unknown Location, 2015, 10:46pm

     The tightness of the rope wrapped around your wrists was excruciating, each movement causing it to rub against the already damaged skin, leaving more angry, red marks. You whipped your head back and forth, anger and fear coursing through your veins as you stared your father down. You watched as he carefully maneuvered his way around the room, every back straightening as he walked past them, every gun cocked and pointed right at you. Your nose twitched up as he walked closer, inspecting the ropes tying your feet to the chair and so on. You accumulated all the spit you could and aimed it for his face, pride washing over you as it hit him perfectly. But as quickly as that pride built, it shattered, a stinging sensation on your cheek now overpowering any other sense. 

“You cost me ten million.”

You bit back a laugh, careful not to let it slip as you did not want another beating. “I did what I had to do. You would have done the same!”

“Don’t tell me what I would have done!”

You flinched inwardly, your face still blushing with growing madness. If only you could loosen these bonds… 

“You will know to not mess up again.”

And as your father left the room, the men lined up against the wall finally let their shoulders fall forward, their once blank faces now donning sadistic smiles.

The Compound, 2018, 2:07am 

You sat up from your mound of pillows, kicking them to the side as well as the heavy blanket. Your ears rang impossibly loud, and it wasn’t until your feet touched your bedroom floor that you could hear yourself screaming. Your body was drenched in sweat, sliding easily on your wood floor as you kicked to escape the blanket. 

Sharp knocks against your door startled you, sudden ‘please, don’t!’’s escaping your mouth. Hyperventilating was always tiring, you thought, and the air was now super cold as you sucked it into your lungs.

“Doll, please? I’m coming in.”

The light from the hallway blinded you so you lifted your arm up as a temporary shield. 

“No, no! I’m good… I didn’t lose it. Please, trust me!”

“Y/N…”

You lowered your arm and stared at your nighttime intruder, instincts kicking in upon settling your teary eyes on him and causing you to groan in displeasure. 

“Don’t look at me.”

“Y/N.”

“I said don’t look at me.”

Steve sighed in defeat and walked back to your door. You thought he was going to simply leave you be, letting you ride out this panic attack alone like all the others. But he shut the door and made his way over to your couch on the other side of the room, plopping himself down and leaning his sleepy head in his right hand. It had been six months since the world literally fell apart, an unknown feeling of terror that simply sat at the pit of stomachs eating away at whatever sanity its host still had, plaguing the world. Tiredness was second nature, never actually reducing its power no matter how much sleep one got. But leaving you here to suffer each individual thread being pulled from your remaining sanity, alone, wasn’t an option. 

“Why are you staying?”

“I have nightmares, too. You aren’t that special.”

You rolled your eyes, hands now massaging your aching chest. “It wasn’t anything.”

“Y/N, you were screaming for help.”

“I scream for a lot of things.”

You figured Steve would succumb to his growing annoyance, but he stayed patient. 

“Was it about…?”

You sighed and pulled yourself up to your feet, knees wobbly and thighs alerting you of the droplets of sweat that beaded down your legs. “No. I don’t dream about the snap.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You let out a rather angry sigh. You were now rubbing your eyes, cleaning them of the accumulation of hard mucus. “I seriously don’t want to talk about this particular incident.”

Steve huffed through his nose and you were ready to pounce on him to tear that beard from his face, but stopped when you saw his small smile and genuine empathy in his eyes. “Okay, I won’t push you.”

You just stared at him, eyes wide and confused. But you nodded slowly, eyes now diverting to the blanket below you. 

“I’m just so fucking happy the snap took my father.”

Steve’s lifted his head quickly by your abrupt confession, eyebrows furrowed and lips frozen, as if wrapped around a lost word he couldn’t verbally address. He understood, but it shocked him nonetheless.

He ignored it, or at least chose to avoid an immediate discussion about it, and stood from your couch. 

“Are you going to be okay?”

You wanted to throw him out. Him being across the room and near the wall was starting to trigger more flashbacks. 

It’s Steve. It’s just Steve.

“Can you stay?”

Steve stumbled slightly in his step, clearly uncomfortable with your request. But he was a good man and when one of his teammates needed help, he would do whatever he could. And you were one of the only teammates he had left. 

“Okay,” he said. But as he made his way back to the couch and away from you, sudden racks of itchiness stretched from your wrists to the middle of your chest. You stumbled from the bed, arms extended outward as if you were still shielding yourself from some incoming attack. 

“No, no! Just…”

Steve watched your movements carefully, trying to discern between fear or awkwardness. He sighed and let you see his hands, turning them over in the air.

“It’s me. Tell me where you want me.”

You were in control. Just tell him where you want him. 

“I’ll lay here,” you started, getting back into the right side of the bed and pulling the covers up to your hips. “You there, but upside down.”

Steve chuckled and followed your commands. You watched him walk, feeling the dip of your mattress as his heavy body lay down. You were grateful when his sock-covered feet touched your left side pillow, his chuckles gaining volume as he tried to get comfortable. 

“Do I at least get a blanket?”

“Oh!” you leapt from the bed and to the closet.  He listened to your soft pitter-patter as you shuffled across the cold floor, shutting his eyes to relish in the childish melody. You passed Steve two heavy blankets, mindful of the cold weather outside. Then you climbed back into bed, passing Steve a few pillows, and snuggling back into your own. 

A few shifts of the blankets made you open your eyes again. Steve was not as stiff as you expected him to be - almost like he wanted to help you - and you mentally slapped yourself remembering that he would do this for Bucky. 

“Steve?”

“Hmm?”

You took solace in the fact that he couldn’t see the tiny grin on your face. “Thank you.”

Steve smiled up at the ceiling, thankful that he could still help others even when he himself was falling apart. “You’re welcome.”

Present Day, 2025, 9:45am

     If anyone were to truly study Steve, they would see he was starting to act his age. He enjoyed fluffy socks, tea instead of coffee, sketching in the secluded garden of the new compound - anything a man pushing a hundred would truly enjoy. And he found himself shaving less, watching every new movie released regardless of genre, and eating much more oatmeal than usual. He remembers how whenever Bucky had saved up just enough for them to splurge on items they never usually indulged in, oatmeal would always be his go to. It was still a common ‘peasant’ meal for the two young bachelors, but Bucky would heat it up with fresh milk he had bought that morning, added the fresh strawberries and dates that were in season, and sprinkled brown sugar - damn, Steve loved brown sugar - on top. Bucky would place the bowl in front of Steve, ignoring Steve’s constant blabbering about ‘Buck, we can’t afford this’, or ‘you don’t need to spend your hard-earned money on me, you jerk’. But he would quickly shut up once Bucky’s perfected oatmeal recipe landed on his eager tongue and filled his happy stomach. Regardless of those past memories of young roommates searching for loose change in their couch and more recent ones of two reunited best friends sharing looks of awe whenever they saw how much milk and brown sugar now costs, Steve was certain the old man in him was just barely emerging. 

He definitely didn’t skip the irritated attitude phase every old man seemed to develop as the years passed, his resting facial expressions and movements starting to match those of his best friend. Grumpy, tired all the time regardless of the serum, and asking each other instead of the modern people around them how to work their phones. All he wanted to do was crawl into bed, or go on a jog, or watch a movie - anything - rather than having to give a briefing about something he hadn’t had to think about for seven years. And although he had the chance to use the stones before and didn’t, Steve couldn’t quite help wishing that he was transported back to his and Bucky’s old and crumbling apartment, fighting over that one knitted blanket Bucky had bought for the both of them with his last dime.

You seemed happier with your whole family situation after the snap, but he never wanted to ask. Whether you were putting on a brave face for him, he was rid of it momentarily only to be pushed into the chaos all over again. But this time was different because you were finally going to end it all. Finish what you had started all those years ago - then maybe Steve could take that afternoon nap he wanted.     

“Talk to me. How are we doing this?”

Fury pulled up a screen with all the photos and biographies, essentially a powerpoint prepared by both you and Steve. 

“I’ll do whatever you ask of me, sir. But I know my family and their schemes better than anyone,” you said. Fury knew this was true and the plan would ultimately be mapped out by you. His input was always welcome, but you knew the small details - their personalities, their weaknesses, their strengths, even the way they took their coffee. You even knew which of them sampled their product before sending it off on a cross-country road trip. 

Steve stood beside the monitor, using this finger to change the screen. “So, we’re looking for our physical proof. A paper trail detailing land and their product, contacts, storage units, aliases - the works.”

You nodded at Fury and your teammates. “Exactly. The hardest things to obtain will most definitely be evidence about my father’s involvement. Proof he gave the orders and profited from them.”

“Your word isn’t enough?” Sam asked.

“No, not unless I throw myself under the bus as well. It’s his word against mine unless I can prove these things were all his doing,” you responded, taking a sip from your water. 

The only other people in the briefing room besides Steve and Fury were Sam, Bucky and Scott. Everyone else would get a brief overview later on this week, but these three were specifically chosen by Fury to help aid you in the actual physical fight. 

“The wedding is the perfect distraction,” Scott spoke. “Almost like this was made for a heist.”

Steve released a heavy sigh, his patience already wearing thin. “Not a heist.”

“Close enough,” Scott shrugged, gaining a grin from you across the table. He smiled at your reaction and sent you a wink. 

“Agent, we have to go over the basics and any new information you can provide,” Fury encouraged.

You motioned toward Steve to bring up the photos on the monitor, “Let’s start with the basics.”

Steve took over for the first portion of your presentation. You didn’t mind - in fact, the more control he had in this would certainly help ease his mind and you definitely did not want a stressed out Steve Rogers accompanying you on a twelve hour road trip. 

“Ernesto Vega, father of Y/N Y/L/N, born 1950 in Guadalajara, Mexico, but because of the snap, the 80 year old is still only 75.”

“Damn, your father is old!”

You laughed at Sam’s outburst, “Yup, and I got like ten half-siblings.”

Sam sat up straighter, “No way?”

“Way.”

“Daniel Seda,” Steve continued, his voice louder. “Vega’s second in command, born 1970, currently 55 years old. Took over as top commander after the snap, and according to Y/N he didn’t take it well when everyone was brought back.”

“Hmm, threatened to put another bullet in me,” you teased, pointing at your stomach where the scar underneath your shirt had already long healed. You could have sworn you heard Steve’s breath hitch, but even if it did, he had quickly covered it by swiping the monitor. 

“But her father saw this as proof of loyalty. Because no matter how much he knows Y/N hates him, she still brought him back.”

You lifted your shoulders, arms in the air as if imitating the nonverbal form of ‘oh, well!’, and your thin smile caused your cheeks to pop out comically.

“So, Seda hates you?” Bucky asked, chuckles still vibrating in his chest from your previous childish movements.

You brushed your hand through the air, “Not the first man to hate me and not the last.”

Steve snickered. You could say that again.

“The wedding will be held at Vega’s personal and private ten-acre ranch in Northern California-”

“A lovely fall wedding!”

Steve bit his tongue, eyes never leaving the monitor. “Sure… and it’s perfect. He’s wanted and he’s going to be on U.S soil.”

You stood from your chair and grabbed the electronic marker from the desk. You circled the main points of entry plus the directions of secret exits hoping to emphasize the ‘private’ part of Steve’s statement. “And since it’s his most private getaway and no one would suspect he would hide important shit on said U.S soil, I’m about ninety-eight percent sure our proof is there.”

You pulled up the blueprints and marked a giant ‘X’ on the farthest corner room in the west end. It was your father’s office. 

“Ninety-eight?” Sam asked, reviewing the printed blueprints himself.

You twirled the marker between your fingers, “My dad is clever. My other two percent is telling me there’s no evidence at all.”

Scott clutched his chest in relief, “Okay, at least one outweighs the other.”

You shared another laugh with the ‘regular-sized man’.

Steve continued listing the basics, all while Fury sat toward the edge of the long table reviewing the screen. “The other two big names in the drug game are Omar Ramirez and Marcus White. Ramirez runs most things from Mexico City to San Antonio, Texas and he’s probably the least evil of them all. White runs Europe, specifically Germany and England.”

You interjected, “Ramirez focuses on the product. He orders his men to focus on the business instead of the outside world - meaning, no unnecessary kills, no violence toward women and children, no killing cops or citizens. Just producing and transporting.”

Almost forgetting he was there, Fury’s voice somewhat startled you. “Vega has lost men to Ramirez, men who wanted a change in scenery.”

You nodded in confirmation, “They aren’t necessarily enemies but they’re no besties either.”

Sam rolled the blueprints back up and handed them to Bucky. “So, we’re taking them all down?”

“The big three. Plus Seda,” Steve declared, finally taking his first sip of water in what felt like forever. If he didn’t want anyone to know he was nervous about this mission, he was for sure failing. 

You hummed, “Vega and Seda are also the only ones who know of Steve’s involvement.”

“How’d that happen?” Bucky asked.

“Because Steve only ‘transports’ my father’s product. Not the others. Steve’s role is essentially to green light the passages and is my main pull,” you clarified. 

It was true - Steve didn’t do or touch anything. And you thought this best considering he was America’s golden boy - you couldn’t possibly bear real involvement from him. This wasn’t his world and never should have been but it was yours. 

You dealt with people directly. You took out the snitches. You handled the product during inspections. You did it all - and not because you thought Steve was some fragile soul who couldn’t achieve the same results - but because you brought him into that mess during a time in his life when he definitely didn’t need it.

“But how did it happen?”

You shrugged, hoping your answer would suffice for the rest of the group as it never does for Steve. “When I first started out as a field agent, my father didn’t trust I was doing it for him. The more I promoted, the more suspicious he got. It wasn’t until we exposed SHIELD as half-HYDRA that he was done with me.”

Fury interjected once again, “So, Y/L/N here had to pull rank out of her ass.”

You snorted, “Thanks, Fury. That sounded nice.”

“I told them that I had the literal symbol of America by my side. That defeating HYDRA was only to get his friend back, not to save the world. Plus, I told them that HYDRA was targeting all of them. And once I could get proof - a forged recording made by Fury before he went into hiding - well, it was like the greatest example of submission.”

“Why didn’t you say Tony?” 

That certainly was a question Steve always had and wanted answered. God, he really hoped you had said Tony.

“Because I got the literal symbol of America as a partner-in-crime. My father almost told me he loved me... almost.”

You sat back down in your chair, a tiny puff of air escaping your lips. “And that made Seda furious. I may hate my father, but Seda is the main threat to blowing this whole operation.”

If anything, you wanted your father deader than dirt, silenced by the one child he always regretted bringing into the world. He had tortured you in more ways than you thought possible. 

      “Now, I thought my dad was bad.”

You fell back onto the couch before retrieving your cup of coffee you had placed on the table. Nebula gave you a tiny chuckle in return. 

 “Yes, mine has eradicated half the universe. I win ‘worst father’.”

You sipped your coffee, trying and failing to block out the banter between Rocket and Tony as they discussed the location of the space stone. “You know, I wouldn’t have put it past him.”

Nebula chewed her dinner slowly, listening to you ramble on about anything that popped into your mind. She knew this was your coping mechanism - to just keep talking until someone shut you up. But she enjoyed it, really, because you spoke of topics that she didn’t quite understand or know about. She learned something new everyday simply by listening to you. 

“I should have thanked Thanos for dusting his ass, though.”

Nebula stopped mid-chew, blank expression but the hint of a twitch in her lip visible.

“I’m joking.”

You had asked her once why Thanos had spared her and Tony when he snapped his fingers. But Nebula had no rational answer, only responding that he must have spared her out of last minute pity and Tony to live through the consequences. And the tiny voice inside your head knocked again, reminding you that ‘maybe this snap was overall a good thing - your father can’t hurt you anymore!’, but you shut it up as quickly as it came. 

“So, how many planets are there in the universe, really?”

     Fury began piling files in one folder, making sure to hand out the sheet with names and contact numbers of agents stationed close to the venue and your chosen hotel.  

“We’ll get into mission specifics at a later date once Rogers and Y/L/N are settled and scope out the place. For now, study up on your targets and perfect your acting skills.”

     You assumed you would only need one big suitcase for the trip, only packing essentials and extra shirts just in case. You rolled your clothes tightly, securing your signature perfume and some jewelry inside some sweaters. You hid identifiable items in the small compartments - your passport, journal, old SHIELD tag, driver’s license, etc. It was the paranoid side of you taking over, the possibility of having your cover blown likely and frightening. The amount of times you had ventured into the general vicinity of your father and his crew always proved safer than you expected. But there could always be that day he simply didn’t want you around anymore. 

So, you prepared in the smallest and even cringiest ways possible - resorting to drafting letters for those you wanted to remember you after you had been taken out. You paused your packing to grab your spare journal. You spent a good hour writing. A letter to Wanda, to Bucky, to Peter, to Rhodey, to Sam. Some were shorter than others - others extending to over two pages. But your mind was racing with things you hoped they would never have to read, scattered thoughts and only hints of identifiable wit penned on paper.

You tucked the letters behind the fabric you had recently ripped open. You planned on duct-taping the rip, your eyes drifting back over to your journal. You tapped your foot rapidly for a few seconds, fingers twisting in anticipation, mind still clear enough to draft one more. You quickly picked the pen right back up, sitting on the edge of your bed and starting the letter you might regret later. But at that moment, with the horrible prospect of dying on this mission, you wrote. 

     ‘Steve,

     Believe when I say that I was so sure I would put a bullet in my father before he could. Whoops…’

You wrote and wrote until your handwriting grew sloppy at the edge of the paper, and signed it. You tucked the final letter into the hole and taped it shut. You really hoped you would be able to survive and burn those written words later. 

A soft knock sounded from across the room and your bedroom door opened to reveal Steve, light blue dress shirt tucked into his jeans like the old man he truly was. You couldn’t help but grin at that, cursing your involuntary actions for this man. 

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“You doing okay?” you asked, continuing to fold clothing into your suitcase. He leaned against your door, hesitant. Steve often wondered why and how he could go days, weeks - one time even a whole month - without speaking to or seeing you. He was an expert at one word answers by now, opting to always have someone else around whenever he seriously had to carry a conversation with you. But what struck him the most was that you didn’t seem to care anymore. He witnessed the change - hell, he was the one that caused it - but it was a change that he both wanted and didn’t. How was it so easy for you?

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” he responded and walked over to your couch to sit. 

You cleared your throat, hoping to make this conversation the least awkward you could. “Because this was literally sprung on both of us after almost ten years of waiting.”

“I’m okay.”

You accepted his answer. He looked comfortable enough, shoulders relaxed and genuinely interested. There was a part of you that wanted to rush over and shake him, yell at him for being so clueless and fake at the same time. There was no possible way he was fully okay with everything - he hadn’t been himself since the snap, and when Natasha and Tony died, he was someone else entirely. You had brought it up with Bucky several times, but he assured you that Steve was just dealing with things his own way. That he was still a man out of time, they both were, and battle after battle could take its toll. And Bucky would hype their therapist up, that they were the reason he and Steve are able to walk in public without that constant voice warning of danger in the back of their heads, and that you should schedule a visit sometime. You always declined, asking him to call you if he truly needed another person to talk to. He would smile, taking you up on your offer whenever a day was particularly triggering.

“I’ve been waiting for this day since I was sixteen. Ten years really just flew by… considering.”

Steve nodded, “Is there anything I should know?”

You hummed, “If you mean things about my family, then I’ll just tell you on the way there or at the hotel.”

He chuckled and stood to lean against your bedpost. “No, I mean like, what should I pack just in case?”

You rolled your eyes and laughed at such an innocent question, “Um, comfy socks. It’s pretty cold in California in the winter. Gas money, it’s pretty fucking expensive, too.”

He smiled, “Good to know.”

The two of you packed in silence for several minutes. Steve helped you roll your clothes and gather your toiletries, even asking you if you wanted to bring your current toothbrush or the new one in your bottom drawer. 

You knew you shouldn’t have spoken about the topic burning in your throat, but you felt like you had to say something. If you mentioned it during the mission, you risked a larger argument than the one you would get now. So you formulated your next sentence carefully, already bracing for impact as it slipped.

“Look, the elephant in the room should be addressed. Once my father’s dealt with, I have no reason to stay here.”

Steve clipped the belt over the top of your clothes, securing the items tightly. He seemed disoriented, your sudden proclamation startling him. “What do you mean? You did the work, you trained, you helped us literally save the world.”

You shrugged and kept your voice light, “Yeah, but I started this gig when I was sixteen. I didn’t join the Avengers until I was freshly in my twenties. I’ve literally known nothing else but fighting.”

Steve sat at the edge of your bed, furrowed eyebrows and all as he chose his next words. He felt both angry and sad, a mixture of feelings that he never quite grew accustomed to whenever he was around you. They ate away at him slowly, creeping into his brain to wrap around his common sense, his sense of self, the man he was before the snap. 

“Are you saying you just need a break?”

“I think,” you shrugged, zipping the suitcase and tugging its weight off your bed and onto the floor. 

“What about Wanda and Bucky?”

You scrunched your face in amused confusion, a playful smile resting on your lips, “I’m not falling off the face of the Earth, Steve. I’ll visit or something.”

“Or something.”

He stood and walked back to your couch, restless and even more stressed than he was before he entered your room. 

“Steve, we lost so much. It’s been two years since we brought everyone back, but… it took its toll.”

He snapped his head up, “You don’t need to tell me about shit taking its toll.”

You felt like you stared at him for several minutes, anger bubbling in the pit of your stomach and traveling up your throat. That familiar lump constricting your airway as you forced yourself to swallow it and the forming tears. And once again, your mouth spoke before your mind could approve.      

“Why didn’t you use the stones for yourself?”

Steve sat, shocked into silence temporarily. “What?”

“When you and Carol put the stones back - why didn’t you stay somewhere you really wanted to be?”

You remember watching him step onto the platform holding the briefcase of infinity stones and holding Mjollnir, - because of fucking course he could wield Mjollnir, he was a good man even if you were on his bad side - simply minding his own business and waiting for Carol to join him. You remember thinking he would return with a different story, only after he got some of that life Tony had always encouraged him to find, that he would go back to Peggy and live the life he always wanted. But as quickly as they disappeared into thousands of timelines did they reappear, Carol joyful and content while Steve trailed behind her. Your heart had pounded erratically, Bucky looking at you with wide eyes because yes, I thought he would do exactly what you were thinking, too. 

“None of your business.”

“I’m not trying to pry-” you reasoned, but Steve stepped toward you with flushed cheeks and a cracked voice. 

“But all you do is pry, pry, pry. God, do you ever just shut up?”

All you could hear behind the ringing of your ears were Steve’s quick breaths, slowing as each second passed and he realized what he had said. A moment of weakness, in his opinion, but still uncalled for. 

“Pack some snacks for the road and get out of my room.”

Steve straightened his back, eyes practically yelling for you to look at him again, pleading for you to see the remorse swimming in them. But you just tugged your suitcase to the corner of your room, ignoring him completely. “Gladly.”

     You and Steve were mature enough to keep your arguments at least a hundred miles away from any mission you were conducting or when around your friends. A quick quarrel in the morning was basically nonexistent a few hours later when the whole group suggested a board game or movie night. Although this impromptu road trip would be the slightest bit awkward, you two were smart enough to not compromise the mission. 

And you had to drive as flying and airport security was too risky, especially with the amount of weapons attached to your body and in the trunk of that rented car. 

“Call us when you hit the first checkpoint. After that, we’ll be monitoring your hotel check-in and any new ones, police reports filed throughout that week, anything that directly involves your stay,” Bucky said, handing you a burner phone. 

You stepped forward to hug him. “Thank you, Bucky.”

He gave you a tight squeeze, releasing you slightly to whisper in your ear. “Try not to kill him for the next twelve hours, will ya?”

You pulled away and gave him your best grin, bumping your bracelet with his. “You know I can’t promise that, Bucky.”

He rolled his eyes, “You kill him, I kill you.”

“Ugh, don’t tease me.” Bucky almost burst out laughing from the fake, pornographic moan you let out because of his threat. 

“No, but seriously - just… lay low, trust each other, and we’ll be there in the next few days.”

You slid the burner into your sweater pocket and patted it, checking if it was secure. You waved goodbye to Bucky and pulled the passenger door open. You blew him a kiss, red lipstick now on your fingers. “Can’t wait to see you!”

Bucky stood with his hands shoved into his pockets, an embarrassed but happy smile on his face. He caught the floating kiss mid-air. “Already miss you!”

“Stop, I’m blushing!” you teased, your left hand resting palm up on your forehead in an exaggerated manner. 

“Go!”

You obliged, falling into the passenger seat and clicking your seatbelt. 

Twenty minutes into the drive and Steve finally decided to speak. 

“So, you and Bucky?”

You giggled, thumbs currently flying over your phone screen as you tried to beat your high score in some awful video game you discovered last week. “Yup, I got him wrapped around my finger.”

Steve’s hand fidgeted on the steering wheel, “Seriously?”

You closed out your video game, “No, Steve. It’s mindless flirting. He’s one of my best friends.”

“Ahh…” he nodded in understanding, a lazy smile resting on his face. He focused on both the road and you, your head leaning against the foggy window. “About earlier-”

“Don’t mention it,” you interrupted. The second you peaked through your heavy eyelids did you lock eyes with Steve, regret visible in them. 

He continued, “I blew up at you and you didn’t deserve it.”

“Cool, you’re forgiven.”

“Y/N-”

You groaned quietly, but you weren’t getting angry. You were just tired from the day already and having to sit for twelve hours straight wasn’t going to help. So, you took the high road. “Look, it’s a twelve hour drive until our first stop. Let’s forget about it or else I promise you, I will jump out of this car when you push eighty.”

Steve couldn’t help the laugh that rumbled in his chest due to your absurd promise, but he accepted your answer. 

“...Okay.” 

     By hour two, there was a restlessness between the both of you. No matter how much you extended your leg, the cramping wouldn’t go away. No matter how many times Steve would twist his neck to the side to get it to crack, it would just tighten again. So, against protocol but still on your best behavior, you and Steve made a couple stops along the way.      

The first was a burger joint in the middle of buttfuck Ohio, you had commented, earning a choking sound from Steve as he tried to contain his laughter. It was a hole in the wall type of place, perfect for lying low and out of sight, and you had enjoyed your meal in the car. You listened to Steve’s playlist on low volume, stealing each other’s fries to simply piss the other off, and hit the road after your meal.      

The second stop was around hour eight, and the sun was already starting to set. You desperately needed to use the bathroom and once you saw a tiny town that ‘looks so much like the town in Gilmore Girls!’, Steve pulled over and parked in a diner parking lot. Donning caps and ordering a coffee and a tea to go to seem less suspicious, you hurried from the diner and back to your car. You stopped dead in your tracks, eyeing a gazebo with a black miniature fence around it. You begged Steve to snap a photo, promising that this would be the only favor you ask of him for the next few hours, and went to hitch one leg over the metal fence. You settled yourself on top, hands gripping the railing and trying not to fall. You started to laugh uncontrollably as the fence started hurting your bottom, begging Steve to snap the photo quicker.      

‘Take the damn picture, you big oaf!’     

‘Well, then hold still!’     

‘It’s hurting my ass!’     

‘Smile!’    

The third stop was the final one, somewhere in Iowa and deep in the forest. You complained about how Fury warned you of motels, that you would have to seek shelter elsewhere to avoid being recognized. You could easily blend in, but the mountain of muscle beside you would blow your cover. And you wanted to arrive in California undetected by the media.       

Steve drove the car into a dark and secluded part of the forest, ground that seemed used by campers often and had an emergency phone and landline nearby. It was secret enough, so you parked the car and retrieved the blankets from the trunk.      

“You taking the back?” Steve asked, jumping back into the car and rubbing his hands together because of the chilly weather. His face was flushed from just a few seconds out in the cool breeze, nose frozen and the tip red. He looked younger, you thought, somewhat resembling those renditions of Greeks in renaissance art.      

“You’ve been driving all day. You should stretch your legs,” you answered, already wrapping the blanket up to your shoulders and securing it around your neck.      

“You sure? We can alternate.”     

You smiled, already feeling the effects of the warmth on your tired body, “I’m sure, Steve. Get some rest and I’ll drive in the morning.”     

Steve exited the car after turning it off - sucks that you had to save the gas - and hopped into the backseat. He kicked off his shoes and lay across the connected seat, facing you. He could see the outline of your nose as you tilted your head slightly to the side, the blanket wrapped around your neck and hiding the real length of your hair. It resembled a bob cut by how half of it was hidden, and Steve thought that hairstyle would suit you.      

Your personal phone rang, cutting through the comfortable silence and startling the both of you. You fumbled it in your hand and looked back at Steve, face falling as you showed him the name.      

Seda.      

“Answer it on the third ring.”     

You did as Steve told you, answering the phone on the third ring and preparing your voice. He scrambled for the tape recorder, pressing ‘play’ as soon as he could.      

“You rarely call me. To what do I owe the pleasure?” you answered.      

His voice sounded hoarse over the phone, almost like he had just finished smoking a pack of cigarettes. “Are you attending?”    

“My dear sister is getting married, Seda. Of course I’m going to embarrass her.”     

He paused for a few moments, sounding like he was directing the people around him to finish something. But he responded to your answer in a serious tone. “I hope you’re being your usual sarcastic self and aren’t serious.”     

You rolled your eyes and pointed at the phone, and Steve’s lips spread into a smile. “You’ve known me long enough to know, I hope.”     

“Sadly.”     

“I’m hurt,” you joked, voice still light and cheerful. Seda paused on the line again, the sound of papers rustling letting you know the line was still active.      

“I need to know if the Captain is attending too.”     

“He was invited,” you responded, laughing a little at the fact that Seda hadn’t known this information you were sure the rest of your family knew.      

He chuckled, a slight whistle sound letting you know he was smoking another cigarette. “Mm, guess your family is finally meeting your lover, huh?”     

The air in your mouth didn’t make it down to your lungs and you looked at Steve with equally wide eyes. But you didn’t stay fazed for long, responding to such an accusation with ease. “My lover, yes. I’m so damn giddy about that.”     

Seda hummed in satisfaction, “Your father always told you to not get involved with the product. Scrambles your brains from thinking straight. But he applauds you on this one.”     

You put a finger in your mouth and mimicked gagging, causing Steve to cover his mouth to muffle his laugh. “I’ve never mentioned the Captain as my lover before. Why is my father always right?”     

You knew exactly what to say. The more backhanded praise you gave your father only fed into the truth and lies everyone knew - truth being you hated your father because of his power and the lie being that you were just as power hungry as him. As long everyone assumed you wanted this power, the more you had to act like you hated your father’s.      

“He knows more than he lets on. You know that.”     

“I know a lot of things.”     

Seda continued, “No friends allowed, anyway. So, if the Captain isn’t your lover then… we may have problems. Is there a problem?”     

You kept your voice at a steady volume, “I said I was with him, didn’t I? Have you seen the man?”          

“Seen him, heard him speak. So righteous and dull. Not really your type.” Seda was growing impatient with the conversation, clearly angry that he hadn’t caught a slip or lie from you.      

You scrunched your face in disgust, “Ew, don’t think you know my type.”     

     “Buck, ‘my type’ is back home with a warm chicken noodle soup in my lap and a couple of loose papers at my disposal,” Steve whined, trying to keep the same pace as his overly enthusiastic friend as he hurried down the sidewalk.      

“She’s such a knockout, Steve! I’m sure she’ll love you.”     

Steve couldn’t help but blush at Bucky’s kind words, the hype always repairing some parts of Steve’s broken self-esteem and reminding him of his worth. But it was his third date this month and rejection was starting to seem like his favorite sport. No matter what he did - offering a girl some peanuts, accidentally stepping on her (once!) feet while dancing, or simply not living up to Bucky’s gracious advertising - women just weren’t interested.      

“You know that’s not true, Buck. Can’t we just have a quiet night in?”     

Bucky stopped and guided them into the nearby alley, both to knock some sense into his friend and to give Steve a break from the tiny jog.      

“Listen here, Steve. Any girl would be lucky to be with you-”     

“Buck, we’ve been through this-”     

“Let me finish,” Bucky shushed him, hands on Steve’s shoulders to steady both him and himself. “Any girl would be lucky to be with you. If this one doesn’t see you how I see you, then she’s just insane.”     

Steve smirked, “Don’t insult the girl before I’ve even met her, jerk.”     

Bucky smiled, his high cheeks pushing up to create crinkles by his eyes. “Trust me, pal. You just need to find a woman with as big of a mouth as you.”     

Steve swatted his friend across his chest, laughs rumbling in both their chests and down the once quiet alleyway.      

     “What hotel are you staying at?” Seda quickly asked, ignoring your quip. You were done with this conversation as it was leading nowhere.      

“Staying at one where no one can hear the Captain scramble my brains. Goodbye,” you replied, an annoyance in your tone that even Seda would believe as natural.      

“See you soon.”     

You let Seda end the call, a little power play you allowed him to have. God, it was gonna feel good to take him down.     

Steve shifted in his seat, stopping the recorder in time for his question. He cleared his throat awkwardly, “Why did your dad assume we were a couple?”     

You gave him a tiny chuckle, pulling the blanket back over your shoulders and settling back into your seat. “I don’t know why that man says anything anymore. I guess they just expected it.”     

“Why?”     

No matter how many years passed, both awake or frozen, Steve never did quite understand the sexual appeal that lingered around his name. No matter how many times Bucky joked about it, no matter the amount of social media posts, no matter anything - he just didn’t seem to understand why people thought he was a ladies man. 

You snuggled deeper into your blanket, scanning the outside woods one last time just in case. “You wouldn’t risk your reputation and status for me unless you were fucking me, I guess.”

“Crude.”

You turned your head to him and sighed, “They think I’m the whore of the family. It’s just too funny sometimes.”

Steve’s face fell, “I’m sorry about that.”

You shuffled in your blanket to pull your arm out and wave it in the air.  “Used to it.” 

Steve didn’t press further, deciding to lay back finally to find a cozier position. It was quiet for a few minutes, just breathing and slight motion disturbing the silence. You opened your eyes and stared at the moonlight hitting the steering wheel. By the sound of Steve’s breathing, you knew he wasn’t fully asleep yet. So you allowed yourself the smallest confession, a crack in the door Steve was figuratively standing outside of.

“My sister is his prized possession, though.”

Steve didn’t respond, but from the sound of the blanket moving you could tell he had turned to face you. 

“Never knew why.”

Steve pondered your words for a long time, long after your breathing became slower and tiny snores left your mouth. He didn’t exactly know what to say or what to do. It wasn’t like you dropped top secret information on him or anything, but it made him wonder just why in the world your father hated you so much. 

You had done everything asked of you. You were controlled, tortured mentally everyday, having to endure and make decisions that Steve knew you didn’t want any part of. Your father should be thanking you for keeping his business afloat, for expanding it, for roping Steve’s own name into that life. As he contemplated any rational reason for such hate, he heard your soft snore turn into an innocent purr, and he felt himself leaning more into a mutual understanding. It frightened him, gripping his reality by the throat, because Steve actually knew why. That innocence he saw with you, no doubt had presented itself to your father involuntarily and your father knew. 

He knew you were good at heart. 

~

Taglist: @dumb-ass-writer​ @justab-eautifulmess​ @supraveng​ @mycosmicparadise​

[discoscoob]

Your Judgement | Loki x Female Reader

Loki (Marvel) x Doctor Who

Loki loses control in more ways than one and secrets are revealed, leaving you with a decision to make.

Part Two | Part Four | Chapter Index

Words: 6.6k

Warnings: angst, threats, blood and injury (this makes it sound a lot worse than it actually is)

Read on AO3

Loki despised feeling out of control. Everyone had always told him how to behave, what to say, what to do, who to be and he thought he had finally escaped all that, he had found the power that he had always sought after, he finally felt a sense of ownership over himself and it was so quickly snatched from him right under his nose in the worst possible way.

 Sure it was suffocating on Asgard and yes he was being influenced by the mind stone on Midgard but he had never lost control quite like this before. Every movement he made wasn’t his own, his limbs moved with an invisible force, even the words coming out of his mouth weren’t his. He had been turned into a living and breathing puppet, to be used as a vessel to preserve the life of a deranged mortal who refused to die. 

 He was humiliated, how could he let a weak, insignificant Midgardian possess his body? He was a God and a supreme sorcerer, she should be no match for him but he struggled to force her out, she stubbornly clung on tight.

 The pressure in his head was intense, due to the fact his brain was being compressed to make room for Cassandra’s consciousness. For someone like Loki, who always preferred fighting with his mind over his fist, shaking someone out of his head should’ve been child’s play but the compression on his own mind was making it weaker which made him more vulnerable to her control.

 “I’m getting jealous ex vibes. I swear to God, Doctor, if my niece got possessed because you’ve got a jealous ex.” Donna warned the Doctor who looked like he was about to choke on his own saliva.

 “Her?” The Doctor screeched.

 “You should be so lucky.” Cassandra made Loki glare at the Doctor.

 “Let him go, Cassandra.” The Doctor ordered the consciousness possessing Loki.

 Cassandra made Loki pout. “And why would I do that? I finally found the secret to immortality.”

 “The psychograft you used is banned on every civilised planet, including this one, what you’re doing is illegal. All I need to do is take you into the city and hand you over to the authorities.” The Doctor warned.

 The force inside Loki’s mind made him laugh wickedly. “Oh Doctor, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

 “Why not?”

 “You can’t hand me over without handing Loki over too.” Cassandra explained before she suddenly gasped as if finding out a secret. “Oh, he really doesn’t want that.”

 Suddenly Loki’s body jerked, as one would when you hit the emergency breaks and he quickly slapped his palm against the wall to steady himself as his breath came out in heavy pants.

 “Get out of my head!” Loki growled, he held his eyes shut tightly which caused his eyelids to crinkle as he clenched his teeth and brought the tips of his fingers up to his temple. He strained as he tried to maintain in control of his own mind, while Cassandra fought to regain dominance.

 “Loki? Listen to my voice. You can fight her. Hold on.” The Doctor encouraged Loki who let out a frustrated cry as he attempted to force Cassandra out of his head.

 You could see the pale golden mist slowly surround him like a halo as he continued to strain, you could see how much it was exhausting him, his already compressed mind was being pushed to its limits. 

 “That’s it, Loki, you’ve almost got her out.” The Doctor continued to encourage him, as he was really starting to struggle.

 Before he could completely expel Cassandra, Loki’s mind succumbed to the fatigue of using powers while being compressed and failed him as the gold essence sunk back into his skin and he collapsed to the floor. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he panted from the exhaustion.

 “That was a very foolish thing of you to do, Loki.” Cassandra addressed the God using his own voice which sounded tired from the strain of trying to force her out. “Don’t forget, I’m inside your head. I can see everything. There are things in here that I am sure you wouldn’t want your new friends learning about, so I’d advise you to behave.” 

 The Doctor, Donna and you, glanced at each other wordlessly, as the atmosphere instantly changed. Cassandra knew she had caught everyone’s attention as she flicked Loki’s hair out of his face and watched you all through his eyes as she forced the corners of his lips to lift into a wicked smirk.

 “What do you mean?” The Doctor took the bait, and Cassandra made Loki’s smile widen in twisted delight.

 Your chest tightened with anxiety as you worried about what Loki was hiding. You weren’t daft, you were fully aware that within the two days you had spent within the company of the God, it wasn’t enough time to properly know him and it definitely wasn’t enough time to trust him. However you couldn’t deny the fact that you had developed an attachment to him and the prospect of that potentially being cut short left a feeling of despair that was difficult to ignore. 

 “Let’s just say, the God of Mischief has been up to a lot of mischief.” Cassandra made Loki chuckle at her own joke as she forced him to climb back up onto both his feet. 

 Without warning the laughter abruptly cut short and with an unexpected jerk, Loki regained control. This time he moved without hesitation or delay as both his palms filled with glowing balls of green smoke and with a loud growl that caused you to startle, the light from his palms turned into an aurora which flowed halfway across your bedroom. The golden mist evaporated from his skin more rapidly this time, as it chased after the green light. You watched on, completely captivated as the gold and green swirled together and began to intertwine. Your focus was torn away when you heard Loki collapse to the floor, completely drained after focusing all his energy on removing Cassandra from his mind while using his magic at the same time.

 “Doctor.” You heard Donna whisper and you looked up at the pair to find your auntie rapidly tapping the Time Lord on his upper arm to get his attention, while she stared across your room, the Doctor’s eyes widened when he saw what she was looking at and you looked over to see what had grabbed their attention.

 “How clever!” A figure identical to Loki, spoke with wonder as it patted itself down to check it was a solid form. “I suppose this solves all our problems.”

 “Oh this isn’t a solution,” original Loki spoke with a heavy sigh as he was still trying to catch his breath and you turned your attention back to him. “You think I would let you remain in my form forever?”

 “Well, there are worse people to spend eternity with.” Cassandra, who you realised was in control of the Loki clone, shrugged.

 “I’d throw you into the nearest burning sun before I let you stay by my side for the rest of eternity.” Loki threatened his possessed clone, his tone harsh and abrupt. “You’re an insignificant and wretched mortal who has deluded herself with the notion that she is worthy of immortality but you are nothing but a worthless creature. You don’t even have your own form to sustain you and so you live off others, like a pathetic parasite, and if you think I will allow your revolting existence seek life support through my Godly form for a whole day, much less an eternity, you’re sorely mistaken.” 

 Loki had stalked towards his carbon copy, as he spoke his monologue with such a threatening force that it had even sent shivers down your spine, despite the fact that it wasn’t even directed towards you. 

 “You best pray that the Doctor doesn’t send the both of us away, because as soon as you’re alone with me no one will be there to protect you, and since you have been inside my mind, I am sure you are fully aware of the things I am capable of doing to you.” Loki finished, once he was stood mere inches in front of his double, who was now visibly cowering away from him. 

 The light of your bedroom reflected off the moisture which had built on the waterline of the duplicates eyes, as they stared into the Gods face with pure terror. 

 The cruel things Loki had said and the intimidating manner of which he had delivered them in, struck fear through your chest. His voice had dripped with pure threat and menace, even the tone he had used when you first met him and he had trapped you against that secluded wall, paled in comparison to the one he had just used towards Cassandra. 

 Loki had unleashed a side of himself that you had yet to see, or even knew existed, and you would be lying if the things he had called Cassandra didn’t sting, of course he could’ve been speaking to her as an individual but what if he held these views towards all mortals, were you merely viewed as ‘worthless creatures’ by the immortal God?

 “Loki, that’s enough.” The Doctor had sternly told him and you weren’t sure if you imagined it but could have sworn that you saw regret flash in Loki’s eyes as soon as he turned and saw you, the Doctor and Donna all staring at him. It seemed your presence had slipped his mind while he had succumbed to his more sinister side and now he was realising you had all just witnessed it first hand, on top of Cassandra revealing that he was hiding secrets which he didn’t want any of you to discover.

 Loki opened his mouth to try and say something but nothing came out, eventually he gave up and let his lips form a thin line as his head tilted downwards to avoid all your eyes.

 Silence laid heavily over the room as no one wanted to be the first one to break it, what could anyone possibly say after that? After a short period of time you heard footsteps softly tap against the floor and you looked up and saw Loki lower himself into your armchair. He rested his elbow upon the armrest and cradled his chin in his hand, covering his face from the nose down with his fingers as they anxiously rubbed over his lips. It appeared as though he had a million thoughts racing through his mind, you couldn’t help but wonder what they were.

 “I think, I would like to leave now.” Cassandra eventually announced.

 The Doctor had explained to her that he could take her into the city where they would provide her with a skintank for her consciousness to live in and she was more than happy to go anywhere the Doctor took her as long as it was away from Loki.

 “I thought you of all people, Doctor, would be careful with the kind of people you let travel with you.” You heard her quietly comment, as she made her way out of your bedroom, the Doctor paused under the doorway and looked at Loki, while he considered what Cassandra had said before he silently turned and followed her to the control room.

 “Are you coming?” Donna looked at you, ready to follow behind the Doctor. 

 You had noticed the way the Doctor looked at Loki and you realised he was considering whether or not he should allow him to stay on the TARDIS, before you turned your attention back to Loki, observing the way he seemed lost in his own world. 

 The way he had lost his temper had startled you, however you didn’t believe his reaction towards Cassandra was unwarranted. You knew exactly what it felt like to have her inside your mind, controlling your body like a puppet. It felt violating. You weren’t sure whether or not his threats toward her were empty, you were sure that was something you didn’t want to find out, but either way Loki hadn’t actually laid a single finger on her, so it seemed as though his tactic was just to frighten her. It may have not been the most conventional approach but it had worked and as a result the Doctor was now taking her to the city.

 “I think I’ll stay here.” You decided.

 Donna didn’t say anything but she glanced over to Loki, who was still slumped in your armchair, his gaze unmoving from the floor, and you understood that she was nervous to leave you alone with him.

 “I’ll be fine.” You assured her, despite the fact that you couldn’t say for certain that you would be, but you wanted to try and talk with Loki. You knew that there was a lot that the Doctor would want to discuss with him after he returned from the city and if you could talk with Loki beforehand, one to one, maybe you could help him.

 “If you’re sure...” Donna sighed, clearly not happy about leaving you alone with Loki but she knew that you were an adult and responsible for your own choices and she respected that. After leaving a kiss on your temple, she reluctantly made her way out your room. Pausing under your doorway she looked between you and Loki with a sigh and you could see the worry all over her face but you gave her a reassuring smile, which she returned, before she finally disappeared down the corridor to join the Doctor.

 You weren’t even sure if Loki was aware of his surroundings anymore as he had hardly moved an inch since he collapsed into that seat. He didn’t even seem to notice that it was only you and him left in your room as you cautiously made your way towards him. Once you were stood around a meter in front of him you stopped and he still hadn’t registered your presence, if he had, he wasn’t acknowledging it.

 “Loki?” You softly spoke.

 The God slightly jumped as his gaze caught yours, he looked startled before his eyes bounced around the room and then finally rested back on you.

 “Where is everyone?” He asked, his voice small, it was the softest you had ever heard him speak, you almost couldn’t hear him.

 “The Doctor and Donna have left to take Cassandra into the city.” You gently explained.

 “They left you alone with me?” Loki looked at you with disbelief and you looked down for a moment, realising Loki was more scared of himself right now than you were of him.

 “Loki, we need to talk.” You stated, your tone was still gentle but you tried to sound stern to make him realise you weren’t offering him a choice.

 “What is there to discuss? As soon as the Doctor returns he will hand me over to the TVA and I will be erased from existence.” Loki dismissed your proposal to talk.

 “You don’t know that.” You tried to reason, this time you crouched down, so you were balanced on the balls of your feet and you could talk to Loki from a more equal level. “I don’t know what the Doctor will decide to do when he returns but if you talk to me and explain everything, I might be able to persuade the Doctor to trust my judgment.”

 Loki seemed to consider it this time as he glanced at you, a frown formed over his face and his dark brows shadowed his eyes, which appeared to be filled with sorrow. He finally broke his eye contact with you to look down at his hands as he fidgeted with them between his spread legs.

 “Okay.” Loki agreed.

 You drew your lips together and looked around as you considered what you could address first and it was hard to ignore the one thought that was dominating your mind.

 “The things you called Cassandra... is that how you view all mortals... is that your view of me?” You asked Loki, now you were the one avoiding his gaze as you rubbed your eyebrows with embarrassment and kept your eyes on the floor.

 Due to the fact you weren’t looking at him, you missed the way Loki had instantly looked at you with eyes full of remorse, he hadn’t even realised that you might have connected his words towards Cassandra to yourself after he had addressed her as a mortal. His jaw was slack as he didn’t even know where to begin telling you how wrong you were and how you had singlehandedly gave him the power he needed to feel in control for the first time in his life.

 “Gods no!” Loki rushed to answer, mindful of the fact that if he allowed the silence to settle too long after you finished your question, it might have seemed like a confirmation that that was truly what he believed you were. 

 When you continued to avoid looking at him, Loki sighed as he pulled his palm down his face. He slid himself off of the armchair to make your heights more equal as he sank to the floor and sat with crossed legs, before he continued, determined to rectify your belief of how he perceived you. 

 “Listen to me, you hold so much power. You have done more for me in two days than anyone else has in my thousand years of existence and you don’t even realise it. I think what... daunts me the most about you all learning the things which Cassandra had mentioned I wouldn’t want you finding out, isn’t that the Doctor might end up taking me back to the TVA. It’s the fact that you will see me as everyone else does, validating that they were right about me all along, and when you inevitably do, it will strip me of the control I have felt over myself these last few days, because you were the one who bestowed it upon me. Someone who holds that much power could never be a worthless creature.” Loki confessed and you furrowed your brows as you lifted your head to look up at him, processing what he was telling you because it was a lot to take in, you weren’t even sure you understood what he meant. How could you have been the one who gave him his sense of control over himself, what had you even done?

 “How... how did I do that?” You asked in disbelief. 

 “Everyone I have ever known in my life has always decided who I was before even getting to know me, but you had no preconceived notions about me when we met. For the first time I had control over who I could be and who someone could see me as, you gave me that control.” He explained to you.

 “Loki, that sounds like manipulation.” You realised with alarm. “You can’t just control which parts of yourself you decide to let someone see and expect their perception of you to be an accurate one.”

 The God paused, seemingly taken aback as if he was realising this for the first time and once it sunk in he looked genuinely ashamed.

 “You can control who you are, but you can’t control how people see you and how people see you, doesn’t control who you are. Does that make sense?” You tried to explain to Loki, who was staring at nothing in particular as he attempted to grasp what you were telling him. 

 “But if everyone shares a certain view of me, how could that not possibly be who I truly am?” Loki argued.

 You paused for a moment, as you pondered over his question.

 “Do you believe this view people have of you to be true?” You asked Loki.

 He shrugged after he allowed himself to think about it for a moment.

 “Do you want it to be?” You asked instead.

 This time Loki didn’t need any time to think about his answer as he immediately shook his head.

 “Then, that must not be who you truly are, if it is not who you want to be.” You concluded.

 Loki looked at you with hopeful eyes before they fell to his lap as he thought about what you said.

 “I think you should tell me what it is that Cassandra said you didn’t want us learning about you.” You decided. You didn’t promise Loki that it wouldn’t change how you viewed him, that would be unwise since you had no idea what he was about to tell you, but whatever it was, you would allow him the opportunity to explain himself so that maybe you could understand.

 Loki swallowed nervously as his eyes fell to his hands and he focused on picking at some loose skin near the side of his nail. You observed him closely and you were astounded by how a powerful God could appear so vulnerable and so... human. When you saw his brows pull together with frustration as he was unable to figure out where to begin, you gently put your hand on his knee and gave him a small smile of encouragement.

 “I killed my father.” Loki finally confessed, just straight to the point as if he were ripping off a band-aid, “my biological father.” He added, to clarify. 

 Loki hadn’t delivered his confession with much emotion, however his chest and shoulders did fall ever so slightly, as if a weight was being lifted off of him. 

 As soon as the words fell from his lips, you retracted your hand from his knee and Loki lifted his eyes to watch your reaction, apart from breaking physical contact you tried to not react, keeping your expression as neutral as possible.

 “Why?” You eventually asked, sticking with your decision to let him explain.

 “To prove my loyalty to Odin ��� my adoptive father, and to Asgard.” Loki explained, before elaborating. “Laufey, my biological father, was the King of Jotunheim and an enemy of Asgard. The realms were on the brink of war after my brother, Thor, lead an attack on Jotunheim, as a result, Odin banished him to Midgard as punishment. During the attack, I had discovered my true heritage as a frost giant while fighting by my brothers side. When I confronted Odin about it, he told me he had found me abandoned in a temple on Jotunheim, during one of his attacks and he took me with the plan to use me to unite the two kingdoms and form an alliance. Suddenly everything made sense, why he had always favoured Thor, how could a frost giant ever be worthy? Much less the King of Jotunheim’s unwanted, bastard son.” Loki’s voice dripped with disgust and you saw moisture gather in his eyes but he quickly blinked it away before continuing. “After I confronted him, Odin collapsed and fell into Odinsleep. With Thor banished and the King in a deep sleep, Asgard was vulnerable. I knew it was my chance to show Odin that, despite my Jotun heritage, I could be just as worthy as my brother. So I tricked Laufey into believing I had betrayed my adoptive father by luring him to Asgard with the belief he could assassinate the King as he slept, but I killed him as he was about to plunge his spear into Odin’s chest.”

 Loki hadn’t planned to share so much, especially to someone he had only known for two days, but he found that with each word that poured out of his mouth, he felt lighter and before he knew it he couldn’t stop. 

 Except for sometimes his mother, he had never really known the privilege of being listened to. He didn’t know how you were going to react to what he told you but you had listened and he hadn’t realised how much he truly needed that until now.

 You were stunned to silence by everything you had just heard Loki tell you. What flooded your heart with so much sorrow that it weighed heavy in your chest, was the way Loki had spoken about himself being unworthy and unwanted, you had decided in that moment that you couldn’t let him be kicked off the TARDIS and abandoned again. After learning about the kind of example Odin set his two sons, you thought Loki’s actions were hardly surprising and despite what Loki had said about Odin favouring Thor, you couldn’t help but think about the fact that Odin had punished Thor for leading an attack on Jotunheim, when he himself had done the same. Instead of holding himself accountable and teaching his sons to not make the same mistakes he had, he let them follow in his footsteps and then punished them for doing so. He raised Loki to see his own father as an enemy and he kept the truth from him, and you imagined that he probably never would’ve told Loki about his true heritage had he not discovered it for himself.  

 You struggled to gather together the words which felt right to say in the moment, wondering what words of wisdom, which you had collected over your 20-something years, would be worth something to the centuries old God. Despite not knowing what Loki might have needed to hear, you knew of something that he needed, and that was a place to belong.

 “I’m going to talk to the Doctor as soon as he comes back and I’ll make sure you get to stay.” You promised him, as you once again returned your hand to his knee and offered him a reassuring smile. 

 Loki’s brows pulled together and his lips fell slightly apart, as he stared at your hand before his eyes travelled up your arm and connected with yours. He studied your expression carefully, trying to find any hints of fear, disgust or doubt. Being the God of lies, he could sense when people were lying or trying to deceive him, but you looked at him with nothing but sincerity. 

 Loki’s eyes dropped to your hand again and he was conflicted. He was in a state of disbelief over the fact that you still wanted to support him after everything he confessed, however you failed to realise that there was still one secret remaining to be divulged. You had assumed he revealed everything, he could have easily gone along with it and increased his chances of maintaining his place on the TARDIS. He would be lying if he said that wasn’t tempting, deceiving people was second nature to him, however when he looked back into your eyes and saw how much compassion they held towards him, compassion he was certain he didn’t deserve, he couldn’t find it in his heart to deceive you.

 Unlike almost everyone else in his life, you had shown him an unlimited amount of kindness and understanding. Most times when he tricked, double crossed or misled people, he believed they deserved it but to do that to you would just be cruel and it was not a level of cruelty which Loki possessed. 

 So, reluctantly Loki took a gentle hold of your wrist and removed your hand from his knee and returned it to your side.

 “I can’t let you promise me that.” Loki rejected you.

 “You’re right, I shouldn’t promise something which is beyond my control but–“ You misinterpreted what he meant.

 “No,” Loki quickly cut you off, “I can’t let you because there’s still one more thing I haven’t told you and I think once I do, you will change your mind.” Loki explained. 

 You remained silent, though you felt anxious about what he might confess, you were also struck by the fact he chose honesty. If he wanted to, he could have easily played along, let you believe he had confessed everything and secure his place on the TARDIS, yet he put it in jeopardy just to ensure that you weren’t misguided and you couldn’t help but admire that. You believed it was a testament to his character which you decided you wouldn’t let go unnoticed, while you nervously waited for him to reveal his final secret.

 “After everything that happened, Odin rejected me and I fell into the hands of a mad titan. I was without purpose, he used that to his advantage and I didn’t need much convincing to join his cause. He desired to posses more power than even the mightiest of Gods, with the use of all six infinity stones. He provided me with an army and instructions to deliver him the tesseract and in return he granted me access to the mind stone. It influenced my feelings and increased my desire for power and need to prove my worthiness, and so I used the army to attack New York city, in an attempt to take over Midgard and rule it as my own.” Loki confessed. 

 You should’ve been horrified, part of you definitely was, but it was heavily diluted by your confusion.

 “I... I don’t remember any of this ever happening.” You admitted, you were very certain that you would recall a God invading one of the most famous cities in the world with an army.

 “It hasn’t happened for you yet.” Loki explained.

 “Time is confusing.” You nervously laughed before you fell silent as you let what Loki told you really sink in. 

 He had attacked earth and attempted to rule over the human race. The way he spoke about it, implied that he didn’t succeed and surely if he was the King of Midgard he wouldn’t be sat on the floor opposite you right now.

 “What stopped you?” 

 “My brother and the avengers. They captured me but I got hold of the tesseract and used it to escape, I didn’t get very far before the TVA found me.”

 You had no idea who the avengers were but you assumed they were some sort of military organisation who were able to defeat Loki and his army, you imagined having the help of Loki’s brother on their side would’ve been a massive help. You considered the fact that when Loki spoke about being captured by them, he didn’t sound upset or angry about it, almost as if he didn’t really care that much about his plans for world domination. You recalled what he had said about the mind stone and how it had influenced his feelings and desires and you wondered how much it was responsible for his actions on Earth.

 “Do you think you would’ve still done it without the mind stone?” You asked him, because you considered this to be very important in judging whether or not you would advocate for his place on the TARDIS. If he believed he wouldn’t have done it without the influence of the mind stone, then his actions weren’t completely his own and therefore you wouldn’t expect him to take total blame for them.

 “No,” Loki furrowed his brows. “but I am a God, I should have not been so easily influenced.”

 “Loki, you might be a God, but you’re still a complicated and complex living being. You’re allowed to be vulnerable at times, you’re allowed to have flaws and make mistakes, you’re allowed to feel emotions and they will get the better of you and control you sometimes, it happens to all of us. Being a God doesn’t make you immune to it.” You told him, realising that Loki had a lot of work to do when it came to accepting his vulnerability.

 Loki remained silent, but it did at least seem like he was considering what you told him as he had a contemplative look on his face. Deciding to leave him in peace to think about it, you pushed yourself off the floor and began to make your way towards your door, but the broken glass, which Donna had dropped earlier, caught your attention.

 You crouched down to start cleaning it up, the bottom of the glass was still some what in tact which allowed you to gather all the broken shards inside it. As you were dropping one of the last pieces into the base of the glass, the broken side of the base pierced the palm of your hand.

 “Shit!” You cried under your breath as you quickly retracted your hand and cradled it close to your chest with your other. Blood was pooling in your palm and began running in singular drips down the side of your arm.

 Loki gasped your name and rushed over to you as soon as he noticed you were injured. Once he reached you, he lowered himself to his knees and held out his hands beside yours, but he didn’t touch you yet.

 “May I?” Loki politely asked for permission to look upon the damage caused to your hand.

 Reluctantly, you granted him access as you placed the balled up fist of your injured hand into his waiting palm. You hissed as he gently prised your fingers open and he mumbled a quick apology as he finally examined your wound.

 “Come on.” Loki encouraged you to your feet, with one of his hands under your elbow and his other still gently cradling your hand.

 You silently allowed him to move you, your eyes focused on him with wonder as he guided you into the en suite of your bedroom.

 Once he sat you down on the closed lid of the toilet, he left your side to run a fresh flannel under the faucet. Your eyes didn’t leave him once, as you watched every move he made. After wringing out the excess water of the flannel, he returned to your side and started tenderly cleaning up your cut. With all the blood cleaned away, Loki could properly inspect your wound.

 “It’s not too deep, I used to inflict much harsher wounds on my brother when we were children, a bandage should do.” Loki casually commented as if it were nothing, when he noticed your alarmed face he simply laughed.

 “Don’t worry, it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle and he gave me his fair share in return. We’re much more resilient than mortals, it was the equivalent of human children pushing or kicking one another.” He assured you, as he opened the cupboard below the sink and searched for a first aid box.

 Your alarmed expression relaxed into a some what fond smile upon learning young Loki wasn’t actually inflicting grievous injuries upon his brother, as you imagined the siblings play fighting as children.

 “Are you close to your brother?” You asked Loki, as he returned to your side with a bandage and started wrapping your hand. For a few moments, silence fell between you and you began to think he wasn’t going to answer.

 “We used to be,” Loki finally answered, avoiding your eyes as he focused on bandaging your hand. “I admired him a lot, I still do, but I fear I have irreparably ruined our relationship.” 

 “I’m sure that’s not true.” You carefully argued.

 “I tried to kill his father.” Loki reminded you and your lips fell shut defeatedly.

 “If he is immortal, he will have plenty time to get over it.” You lightheartedly added, trying to avoid the tone of the conversation becoming too serious.

 “Maybe in 5,000 years or so.” Loki estimated as he tied off your bandage, you inspected his work while he tidied away the first aid supplies back into the cupboard.

 “I haven’t changed my mind.” You admitted to him while his back was turned to you. 

 Loki immediately paused his actions after hearing you, you caught his reflection in the mirror above the sink and watched as his expression filled with disbelief before he glanced at you from over his shoulder.

 “About... me?” He hesitantly checked, certain he had misinterpreted what you meant.

 You simply nodded and Loki looked downwards as a shy ever so slight smile curved on the corner of his lips.

  ***

  “So technically it’s New New New New New New New New New new New New York.” You heard the laughter of your auntie and the Doctor as the entered the TARDIS, and you made your way around the console.

 The Doctor stopped when you caught his eye and said your name, surprised to find you waiting in the control room, while Donna smiled at you from beside him.

 “I have to talk to you about Loki.” You told the Doctor.

 Donna’s smile instantly and was replaced with worry as her eyes dropped to your bandaged hand.

 “Did he hurt you?” She fretted, as she stepped towards you.

 “No,” You immediately assured her, glancing at your injured hand. “No, I cut myself on the glass you dropped.” 

 Donna looked down with guilt as she realised your injury was caused by her accident.

 “I think we should let him stay.” You immediately returned to your original point, deciding there was no need to dance around it.

 The Doctor sighed your name, as it seemed like he was about to disagree while Donna looked at you as if you had grown a second head.

 “Please, you can trust my judgment.” You gave your auntie your best puppy dog eyes and she tilted her head in contemplation before looking towards the Doctor, who seemed to be considering it as well.

 “What do you think?” The Doctor turned to Donna, “if you’re not comfortable with it...”

 Your auntie sighed in defeat after giving it some consideration.

 “Your judgement better be good.” She pointed her finger at you, and you smiled. 

 “It is, I promise!” At least, you hoped it was.

  ***

  Just like the night before, there came a knock on your door just as you were about to climb into bed and just like the night before, you were greeted by the sight of Loki when you opened the door.

 “Is this going to become a nightly occurrence?” You joked.

 “If you would like it to.” Loki played along.

 “So, to what do I owe the pleasure?” 

 Loki’s features dropped into a more serious expression and he took in a deep breath.

 “I realised that earlier I never got the chance to apologise.” Loki began, his hands were held behind his back, hidden from your view, so you couldn’t see the way he nervously played with them.

 “Apologise?” You questioned with a slight tilt of your head, wondering what he felt the need to be sorry for.

 “I know how violating it felt to have Cassandra inside your mind–“

 “That wasn’t your fault.” You cut him off before he could finish.

 “No, I know, but I kissed you,” Loki’s eyes were trained on the floor as he spoke and your mouth fell in the shape of an ‘o’ as you realised that is what he came here to apologise for. “And you weren’t in control–“

 “You weren’t to know,” you quickly reassured him, as heat rose to your own face as you both acknowledged what happened between you. “She kissed you first, you don’t have to apologise.”

 “Even so, I would like to,” Loki finally lifted his gaze to look at you, “I’m sorry, if you felt uncomfortable or...”

 You couldn’t admit it, but uncomfortable is not a word you would use to describe how kissing Loki had made you feel. Once the pressure had began to slip from your mind and your lips were still attached to his, you felt a wave of pleasure flush through your stomach while goosebumps rose on your skin leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. 

 You pulled yourself back from the memory as you nodded and offered Loki a smile and accepted the apology which he felt he owed you, while you tried hard to push your desire for the kiss you shared to be repeated, to the back of your mind where you hoped it would soon be forgotten.