#they spread us across the americas but we still manage to understand each other is CRAZY

[songsofbloodandwater]

Very proud of myself for reading a short text in haitian creole and being able to not only recognize the kongo words used... but also understand the whole thing thanks to that.

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : You Again

Summary: It’s been years since seeing each other and a lot has changed.

Genre: Fluff , Mentions of Smut

Request: Yes / No

Word Count: 2,478

* * * * * * 

Green eyes discreetly watch their surroundings as the redhead makes her way down the street. She purposely avoids stepping too close to anyone.

Her hand shoves into her pocket to retrieve her vibrating phone. A blocked number displayed across the top of the phone telling her exactly who is calling.

Turning down an empty alley, she answers.

As expected it’s Fury requesting that she come in and she agrees without hesitation. The call ending just as she’s on the other side of the alley. 

The second someone collides into her shoulder she tenses and levels them with a glare. 

E/c eyes instantly flicker over her form,“ I’m so sorry I’m in a bit of a rush, are you okay?” The voice belonging to the offender sounds wildly familiar, causing the redhead to frown and look up at their face. 

The woman in front of her raises an eyebrow, a concernedly soft smile tugs at her lips.

“I-I’m fine.” Natasha says, the frown still deep on her face. 

Nodding, the h/c takes a small step to the side, and continues to rush down the sidewalk.

The encounter remains in Natasha’s mind until she gets to the compound. She just can’t shake how familiar the woman looked. Those eyes were ones she swears she’s seen before, that voice pulled at something seemingly buried deep in her memory.

It’s not until she’s standing in front of Fury himself that she let’s the thoughts ghost away.

“You took your sweet time Romanoff.” He says with a stone face, but knowing him for years allows Natasha to detect the teasing in his tone. 

Moving her curls over her shoulder with a shake of her head, the redhead smirks,“ I was in the city Nick.” 

He nods in understanding.“ Well now that you’re here, welcome to your new assignment,” he holds a file out to her.

She accepts it and flips it open. The frown from earlier returns as she looks at the list of recruits, the same familiar face from earlier stares back at her from one of the many pictures. 

“Don’t tell me all your Avenging has made you too hot for recruit training.” Fury teases once more.

“No just- where’s the file on recruit seventeen?” Her inquiry makes Fury raise his eyebrows, head raising in further curiosity. 

However he searches through the stack of files on his desk,“ lucky for you they haven’t been processed yet.” He hands her yet another file and she tries her best to refrain from frantically flipping it open.

The second she sees the name at the top her breath hitches. 

There’s no way it’s you. 

* * * * * * *

Perched behind the ledge on the building’s roof, Natasha once again peaks through the scope of her sniper. 

“I’d truly appreciate if you didn’t kill him. Not until he’s answered my questions at least.” 

The voice put Natasha on guard instantly. She can’t recall the last time someone had snuck up on her.

Spinning around, a stoic expression plastered on her face to hide her true emotions, Natasha comes face to face with a woman nearly four inches shorter than her. An amused smirk plays on the woman’s face and it instantly irritates Natasha. 

“I’m afraid your questions will have to go unanswered.” The redhead replies, just waiting for a challenge. 

The woman’s hands raise in a show of harmlessness,“ I won’t make your job harder, I imagine if you’ve been looking for him as long as I have this is a rare opportunity.” Nonchalantly she comes closer, raising a questioning eyebrow as she points at the sniper’s scope. Natasha frowns but nods, watching as the woman looks through it.“ What if you just took out his legs. I go in, ask my questions and you finish your job after I’m gone.”

“What makes you think I’m willing to help you?” 

“Isn’t that what heroes are supposed to do, help people?” An eyebrow raises at Natasha.“ Come on Black Widow, you scratch my back I scratch yours.” 

Green eyes narrow at the use of her alias. Something tells her that her identity was known before she was approached.“ Who are you?” She asks. 

“Ooo introductions, fun. I’m Y/n but you can call me Ghost.” You hold your hand out to the redhead.“ I work special operations for a private organization. As mentioned, I’m just here to get some answers. Your target is a scientist gone rogue, if I don’t speak to him a lot of people could get hurt, myself included.” 

Natasha’s head raises, eyes scanning your face for any hint of deception.“ I know who he is.” It’s not surprising that someone else is after the doctor, just surprising that someone found him when she did. 

Taking a risk, unlike anything she’d ever do, she agrees to help. 

A plan quickly forms between the two of you that executes perfectly. You get your information and she takes out her target, both of you gone without a trace. 

“You know, we made a pretty decent team.” A teasing smile hits your lips as you glance at the woman beside you. 

“Don’t get used to it.” For the first time tonight, a smirk plays on Natasha’s lips. 

Chuckling, you nod,“ since we’ll never see each other again, how would you feel about a celebratory drink?”

Once again, she finds herself taking a risk.

* * * * * * *

Natasha pulls herself from that train of thought before she can dive into the remaining events of that night, though she can faintly remember the feel of your hands across her heated skin as whispers of her beauty left your lips. That wasn’t even the last night it had happened, what you did to her left her hooked.

So much so that it became a regular occurrence for her to end up in your bed when she was assigned to missions in Canada. Connecting with you in bed inevitably lead to a stronger connection emotionally. 

It stumped Natasha how you’d managed to get through her facades as if it were nothing. Even more so than that, she wasn’t expecting you to understand her so well, not even her closest friend, the man she considers her brother, understood her the way you did. 

But then the Avengers became a thing and she wasn’t sent on missions to Canada anymore. 

“When was she recruited?” Natasha asks, finally looking up from the picture of you.

“A few months ago, she found us and that,” the man chuckles impressively,“ that’s impressive on it’s own.”

With nothing more to say to Fury, Natasha nods non verbally accepting the mission, and leaves out. Heading straight to the elevators that would take her to the training floor. 

Common noises of the compound could be heard: another group of trainees outside with Sam and Steve, faint sounds of orders being shouted, occasional drilling sounds. 

Stepping into the training room, Natasha’s eyes scan the small group of recruits, and land on you. 

No wonder she wasn’t sure if you were familiar or not. Last time she saw you, you were shorter than her, just as skinny. Now you’re almost a foot taller, more meat on your bones as defined muscles. 

Your eyes land on her and you smirk, winking just barely. 

Of course you recognized her, only difference in her is the length of her hair. Those enticing green eyes are still just that, curves still accentuated by the leather catsuit, expression just as stoic as the night you met. 

Calling the recruits into order, Natasha runs through the basic entry speech, words of intimidation and motivation spoken to reach the hearts of those who aren’t ready and those born ready. She can easily detect who won’t last longer than a week, you aren’t one of them.

“Pair up, combat training begins now, if you can’t take down each other you have no business in the field.” She says, then looking you dead in the eyes,“ seventeen you’re with me.”

Nodding, you follow her over to a set of mats near the window, stepping up to face her head on. There’s just enough time to release a single breath and then she’s attacking. To anyone else she does so with movements as calm as the wind, each strike or counter move executed with precision. 

But you, you know her in a way nobody does, nobody ever has. It allows you to see the slight irritation in her punches, the anxiousness and curiosity in her eyes. It’s how you see that her guard is back up in regards to you. 

You let her get the upper hand, yes let, just so she can pin you to the mat, your arm behind your back in her grasp with her mouth to your ear. 

“Whatever you’re worried about Romanova, let it go. I’m not here with any bad intentions.” You speak, voice as smooth as the day she first heard it.

Her eyes narrow,“ so why are you here?” 

“To see you.” You smile only to grunt when her arm presses into the back of your neck.“ Okay okay. I left the last organization once it fell into the wrong hands, HYDRA’s hands. I found out through some reliable sources that the Avengers were hunting down HYDRA. After what they did to me, what they may still be doing to my friends,” Natasha’s grip has long since loosened, allowing you to shift slightly,“ I have to stop them.”

Releasing you completely, Natasha pops up and offers you a hand of assistance.“ What did they do to you?” 

A snort falls from your lips, your arms spreading out,“ don’t tell me it's been so long you don’t notice. Maybe if I-” playfully you squat down to the height you used to be. You smile when you see the slightly amused smirk on Natasha’s lips, accompanied by an eye roll.“ They made me Captain America 2.0 and at first I was with the idea, until I got word of what their true intentions were.”

“They wanted you to be a weapon.” She understands. If no one else ever will, she does. You nod solemnly and the ex-assassin sees how much you’re torn up by the corruption of the organization. It’s like looking in a mirror, that’s exactly how she felt about SHIELD collapsing. 

With present company around, you both agree to talk after training, Natasha telling you to come to her quarters after you’ve checked in. 

So for the time being you focus on training, nailing the hand to hand combat with Natasha before being handed over to Sam Wilson for basic exercises and a run around the compound, where you’re shown the trainee’s residence. 

After checking in with the agent in charge of your training group, you shower, change, and head to the main building in search of Natasha. 

It doesn't take long to find her since you follow her directions perfectly. 

Looking around at her luxury apartment like quarters, you can’t say you expected anything less. Of course Tony Stark made sure his teammates had more than adequate accommodations. 

“Always early L/n.”

The redhead’s familiar sultry voice grabs your attention, causing you to spin around from the window to look at her. 

She’s as gorgeous as she’s ever been. Admittedly the long hair suits her better, still damp from the shower she obviously just took and falling down her bare shoulders. Subconsciously your eyes trail down her tank top and yoga pants covered form. 

“Eyes up here.” She further teases and your eyes snap up to hers.

“Sorry it's just- you look good Romanova. Really good.” You say breathily.

The urge to just dive head first back into your charm hits Natasha hard. She’s seen you for all of a day and apart from your physical, you seem to be the same person she was falling for all those years ago. The only people she’s ever fallen for.

In the next few minutes, Natasha makes coffee, telling you to wait in the living room for her. Only to return shortly after to hand you a cup, and ease on to the sofa. 

Pulling her legs up to tuck underneath her butt, she faces you as you sit beside her, a noticeable distance between you two.

“How long?” She asks almost cautiously, clarifying when you raise your eyebrows.“ How long have you had your abilities?”

“Three years.”

A heavy sigh leaves her lips. Two years after she left HYDRA took over your organization and turned you into a super soldier. She can’t help but wonder what may have happened if she were still around. 

Would you have needed her comfort? Could she have stopped it?

Suddenly a weight lands on her knee, a glance down revealing your hand comfortingly resting there.“ There’s nothing you could’ve done. I wanted the serum, just not for the reasons they gave it to me.”

She silently nods, eyes casting back down to the hand on her leg. 

Whether or not she mentions it out loud, she missed your touch, even the ones as simple as this. Something about the way your touch affected her, be it arousing or calming, occasionally featherlight with the intent to cause laughter from the usually stoic woman. 

A mental sigh brings the thought to the forefront of her mind. It’s not just your touch, it’s you as a whole. Your energy, your aura, your personality, your smile. 

How she’d gone five years without you?

“Can I ask you something?” Your voice pulls Natasha from her thoughts and she looks back up into your soft eyes, hurt hides in them that makes her frown and nod.“ Did you ever consider coming back? Or even contacting me?”

The look that crosses her face is answer enough but she still says,“ more often than you’d think. In the beginning, all I could think about was going back to you and never leaving. I considered finding you just to say goodbye.”

“Talked yourself out of it huh.” It’s a statement not a question. Another nod to how well you read her.“ Figured I was better off without you and the enemies you come with, even if my life was dangerous long before you.”

She shakes her head, chuckling at how easily you saw through her reasoning when she hadn’t even admitted it herself.“ Can I contribute that conclusion to you having mind reading abilities?” 

“You can if it’ll make you feel better but it’s not true,” your thumb smooths across her knee in the same way it always had.“ I never had to read your mind.”

Much like she always had when it came to you, Natasha allows herself to take just one more risk. She let you in the first time, hopefully this time would end better or not at all.

Laying her hand over yours, her fingers wrap around your hand,“ I’m really glad to see you again.”

* * * * *

Taglist: @owloftheshadows @natasha-danvers

[christ0pher-evans]

Variety’s Actors on Actors

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader  Warnings: Slight Angst / Implied Smut Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: This is my first time writing a Chris Evans fanfiction. It it loosely based off of Variety’s Actors on Actors interviews with Chris Evans and Paul Rudd / Chris Evans and Scarlett Johansson. It is pure fluff, hope you guys like it!!! Please reblog and like🖤

 ♡

When Variety had approached you to be involved in the ‘Actors on Actors’ style interviews, you knew that it could be really fun, a great opportunity and you felt immediate excitement for who they might pair you with. 

It was only a day later when they had told you that they wanted you to do the interview with Chris Evans. Normally, any time that you got to spend with Chris, physically or virtually, was fun; however you had no idea how you could possibly interview the man when you knew all there was to know about his life and career, I mean you’d only know him 16 years, and been together for the past 6 years, leading to your past first year of blissful marriage. 

You had spent the last month away from Chris due to the filming of your latest movie, and was missing him so much that your heart hurt. The thought of getting to spend a full 45 minutes doing this interview with him was making you jump for joy, because usually neither of you have enough free time simultaneously to be able to spend this length of time together. It’s often a fleeting text of “I miss you”, or a 5 minute phone call between scenes. 

You had spent the past week since finding out about this interview trying to come up with interesting enough questions that the fans would want answers to. You were also thankful for Variety as they had sent you a pre-made list of questions in case you got stuck.

It was finally an hour before the interview, and you hadn’t seen Chris’ face for the past two weeks so you decided to make a bit of extra effort to look nice for him. 

You were sat in front of your dressing table in your apartment that had be rented out for you whilst you were filming. Make-up was spread all over the table and you could see the reflection, several outfits littered all over your bed where you had yet to make your mind up on what to wear. 

45 minutes later and you had a light brown and glittery smokey eye, a subtle winged liner with a gloss over your lips and had given yourself a bouncy blow-dry. After looking through all your outfits, you had decided on one of Chris’ oversized jumpers that you stole before you left and some jeans - even though you wanted to look really nice for him, you knew how much he would appreciate seeing you in his clothes more. 

You had made yourself a coffee and set yourself up at the breakfast bar for the interview. Checking everything was set up and ready for the interview, you waited patiently with butterflies in your stomach for it to start. You were bought out of your excited daze by the noise of your phone, a message from Chris popped up.. ‘Can’t wait to see your beautiful face’ Boy, did he still make you swoon after so long together. 

Not long had passed before the sound of a video call was coming through on your laptop, and as you answered, a member of the Variety team was on your screen. “Hi Y/N, it’s so lovely to speak to you and thank you so much for partaking in this interview. In a couple of minutes, we will connect you straight through to Chris and you can just start chatting and asking your questions. We will record everything from our end and then edit it together to be posted online.” “That all sounds perfect to me. Thank you so much for having me and letting me do this with my husband.” You couldn’t help but grin, it never got old getting to call Chris your husband. You absentmindedly twirled your engagement and wedding rings round your finger.  “Okay, we will connect you now. Have fun!” 

And then there he was, bright eyed and grinning at you through the screen.

“Hi Sweetheart.” His voice made your heart flutter and your stomach do flips.  "Hi Chris, how are you?” you reply sweetly.

You made some small talk for the sake of the interview, before starting to ask each other questions. “So I have a confession to make..” you paused briefly, “I could not think of any questions to ask you that I didn’t already know the answer to, so I thought I would ask questions that I think fans would want to know the answer to.” 

You grin, proud of yourself and proud of the big laugh you got out of Chris because you had come up with such a good idea. “My first question is when you first got into acting, how did you navigate the work/life balance?”

Chris took a swig of beer, pondering his answer before starting. “Well when I actually booked my first bigger film that had a busy schedule, was on the film we worked on together, so previous to that I didn’t have much of a social life” he chuckled, “But when you’re filming for maybe 12 hours a day, 6 days a week, you have to quickly find a routine that works for you where you can still show up to work every day and give 110%. I also remember we used to take naps on set in between our takes all the time.” You couldn’t help but smile as you fondly remembered the first time working with Chris. “No but seriously, when you find a script that you are passionate about, and get to work with people that are truly amazing at what they do, you are happy to dedicate as much time as you need to to get that perfect take, to eventually make that perfect film.” 

“Okay, well let’s talk about Defending Jacob, which for you, was a completely different style of character for you to become. How did you prepare for that role?” 

“Yeah, it was definitely a new type of role to encompass, especially off the back of playing Captain America for almost a decade, even though he was considered a serious character, it’s a completely different league to enter. I remember doing a lot of work with real life district attorneys to understand the pressure and seriousness of the job role and I remember going through lines with you every damn day.” 

You zone out as Chris carries on talking about Defending Jacob as you remember the nights fondly. 

————————

You had just finished clearing up dinner as Chris comes bounding back into the kitchen with his script for Defending Jacob. Placing it down on the dining room table, he turned to you, wrapping his arms around your waist.  “Sweetheart, pretty please can we run my lines again? I’ve been thinking about how I can add more passion into my character to really emphasise his emotions in those tough scenes.” 

You absolutely couldn’t say no to him. You was so proud of how much work he was putting into this show and how perfect he wanted it to be, but you also couldn’t say no to those gorgeous blue puppy eyes. 

It had been 45 minutes since you started running lines, you were now sitting on the dining room table swinging your legs back and forth and you couldn’t take your eyes off Chris pacing round the table, the anger and passion in his voice as he recalled his lines. You could feel the heat pooling towards the bottom of your stomach as he ran his hand through his hair, his chest flexing as he shouted his lines, the gruff tone of his voice only making your panties wetter. You were biting your lip gently as Chris pulled you out of your daydream. 

“Y/N are you alright, are you getting bored?” You shook your head quickly. 

“God no, course not babe. You’re doing great, I’m just slightly distracted.” 

Just like always, Chris could read your mind and knew exactly what you were thinking. He sauntered closer to you, placing himself in front of you and sliding your legs open so he could stand between them. Placing his script down, he used one finger to tilt your chin up to look him in the eyes. 

“Is there something you like baby?” 

Your breath hitched in your throat as he called you baby and ran his finger across your bottom lip before ghosting a kiss on them. He leaned down towards you, one hand running down towards your panties as he kissed along your neck and up to your ear, before mumbling..”I think we can take a break”. 

————————

You chuckled to yourself, remembering so vividly on how you both broke the dining room table that night. 

“Oh, is something funny sweetheart?” Chris bought you out of your daydream. Clearing your throat, you mumbled an apology before changing the subject straight back to the interview. 

“Okay, let me ask you a question now Y/N. I want to know how it feels to be like a superwoman as you managed to film and promote your latest movie whilst we were planning our wedding?” 

You giggle lightly and smile broadly, remembering the chaos that was your life the six months leading up to your wedding. 

“Honestly, Chris, that feels like a blur these days. Planning our wedding was much more work than filming and doing press tours, but somehow we made it work. Don’t make it sound like I did it so elegantly though, I was an absolute bridezilla those six months and I don’t know how you put up with me.” You smile at each other through the screen, remembering the fond memories of your engagement. “But in all honesty, it was just quite a strict schedule with minimal sleep. I loved filming and the press tour for my film was so much fun, as was planning our wedding so even though at the time, it felt like an impossible task, looking back and seeing how well the film did and how perfect our wedding day was, it makes the hard work worth every second.” 

Your smile falters slightly at the thought of some of the more stressful times during that stretch, but quickly returns at the look of love in Chris’ eyes as he hangs onto your every word.

————————

You had spent the day at home trying to organise the seating plan for your wedding which was quickly approaching in 3 months, whilst Chris had been out all day filming. 

Unfortunately before Chris came home, you had pulled your heels on, ready to walk out the door to your awaiting car to take you to your latest movie press panel. A sad sigh was all you managed before you hauled yourself out the door for the 2 hour interview with your cast mates. 

The panel had finished at 9pm and you had jumped straight back in the car, so the driver could take you home to Chris, silently hoping you could catch him for a bit before he went to bed. You knew he would be calling it a night quite early as you had woken up to his side of the bed empty and cold that morning, meaning he had left the house before sunrise. You felt a sudden pang of sadness about how little time you’d spent with your fiancé over the past 3 months. It was no ones fault, you were both busy but it felt like you were actively avoiding one another. You shook your head as a few tears fell. 

As a welcome distraction on the way home, you had opted to start looking at flower arrangements for the bridesmaids bouquets, but you could feel yourself drifting in and out of consciousness, feeling so tired and drained from months of final filming and wedding planning. 

It was just after 10:15pm as you stepped out the car, thanking the driver before heading up the path to your house. You could see the lights were off, bar the hallway light that Chris had left on for your arrival home. You sighed sadly as you stepped in the door to the quiet abyss. You removed your heels, not wanting to make any unnecessary noise, knowing that Chris was up just as early tomorrow.

Walking through to the kitchen, you could see Chris had left you some pizza takeout on the side but you didn’t have the energy to eat, just wanting to curl up in bed. 

Heading straight into the ensuite to your bedroom, you quietly took off your make-up and cleansed your face to hide your tear-stained cheeks. Creeping back into the bedroom, you stood looking in the mirror of your dresser as you put on one of Chris’ t-shirts; you looked defeated and utterly glum. As you stood there for a moment longer, trying to collect your emotions and bottle them away, you heard Chris stir. 

“Babe, come to bed.” 

You felt your shoulders relax at the rough sound of his sleepy voice. Quickly wiping under your eyes once more, you turned round to see him holding the duvet up so you could crawl under and into his waiting arms. 

Immediately relaxing into the mattress, goosebumps arose on your skin as Chris trailed his fingers up your side to pull you into him. You let yet another tear fall from your eye at the fact that this was the first time you’d actually seen him today, frustrated that work and wedding planning was taking up all your time. This didn’t go unnoticed by Chris as he caught the lone tear with his finger, wiping it away. 

“I just want our wedding to be perfect and my movie to do well without having to sacrifice all my time with you” you whimpered, hiding your face in Chris’ chest.

“Sweetheart, I’m marrying you, it will all be perfect. Get some sleep, I love you.” Chris gave you a kiss on your forehead before falling straight to sleep, you dozing off straight after him, with heart full of love. 

————————

The interview was coming to an end and you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with happiness of getting to spend so much time talking to Chris but also dread of not knowing when you would get to see his face again before you finally got to go back home in a months time.

“Okay sweetheart, I have one last question and it is one that Variety suggested for both of us to answer. What is the best part about being married to someone in the same profession as you?” You smile at Chris through the screen, trying to think of only one thing to pick. 

“Well, it is difficult to pick one, because there are so many great reasons but also it is really hard being married to someone in the same profession as you. I always try to be honest with our fans and in interviews, so I don’t want to sugarcoat it. We have to go long periods of time not getting to see each other and always having such high pressured schedules doesn’t allow a lot of time for married life.” You sigh at the look of sadness that has washed over both your faces. “However I count my lucky stars every day for having such a supportive and understanding husband like you.” You notice Chris blush at your answer before nodding along with you, agreeing with what you’ve said. 

“I have to agree with you sweetheart. There is definitely some poetic justice in the fact that we met on set, both doing the job we love so fondly and here we are, 16 years later, married and getting to celebrate our achievements every single day together.” 

You have to told back the tears as the interview finishes and Chris disappears from your screen. Even though you have demanding jobs, you could not feel luckier to be married to a man like Chris and you couldn’t wait to go back home to him. 

[wyn-n-tonic]

Golden, Like Daylight -- Part IV

Word Count: 1,925 Warnings: PTSD. Drug use. Ben Affleck. Panic attacks. Bullet wounds. Smut (not explicit but it's there). A/N: Your kind words mean literally everything to me and I have been sobbing between the warmth shown to me over this series and also how much I love Francisco Morales and want the absolute best for him.

MASTERLIST | PART: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX

Gif by: @uuuhshiny

Luna hasn’t stopped wailing since Sunday, the one and only day Frankie said he wouldn’t be able to call.

It’s Thursday and both their lungs are close to giving out.

One Morales woman hyperventilating herself into fitful sleeps, the other only sobbing through held breaths in stolen lonely moments of peace and quiet.

Kristyn had taken up residence in the spare room, making sure Leah slept and ate. She was the one who cashed in Leah’s sick days with the school, forging a bullshit sick note when she went into work.

Leah is currently distraught because her husband might be dead in South America, we don’t know.

That’s what the first one said, dashed out on the keyboard in a petty moment of frustration. She might be the only one of Leah’s sisters who didn't want to lob his fucking head off every time she shed a tear but it didn’t mean she never wanted to do it.

Patient is suffering from a prolonged migraine and intensive nausea. Follow up appointment scheduled for next Thursday at 9am.

That should fucking do it but she’ll have to start checking off the vacation days soon. Dip into family leave for Luna.

Alexa held her on that first Monday, talking her through the panic in a puddle of spilled coffee. The paper cup splashing across their knees in the hallway as concern emanated from the AP Lit room at their backs.

Somewhere at the base of the Andes, her husband was being pried out of a crashed helicopter by the only other men she’d ever truly loved. William was shot, Benny was reckless. She felt it all in her body as she was driven home, helped into the shower, held in her bed but not by the arms she craved.

“He's coming home,” Deana brought dinner that night, her big sister cutting into her steak like she was a child at risk of choking again, “he will do anything he can to make sure of that.”

“What if he doesn’t, D?” Leah’s taken on the stare, everything and nothing all at once, “what if he doesn’t come home this time?”

“I promise you, Lee, okay?” She reaches out to push aside hair damp with tears, “I've never seen a man so in love.”

“Yeah…” she’s quiet, “he promised me too.”

And she told him to stop making promises because he doesn’t keep them.

I think you put a baby in me, Francisco Morales.

The tears well over her eyes, spilling onto already salt stained cheeks.

He made love to her like it was the last time he would ever see her, the last chance he would ever get. He poured his entire being into her, drunk off the feel of their bodies together. She could feel him in the hollow of her ribs, an aching that called out for the comfort of his beating heart against hers again.

Would that be so bad?

She sobbed out, startling Luna’s own ragged cries again, afraid that she would never know warmth against her cold hands again.

—————

“Hey,” they're huddled against the onslaught beneath a barely-there cliff, labored breathing in tandem, “you still with me?”

Frankie’s panic attack came on slowly, a rolling storm in the distance the moment the helo crashed in the valley.

Bad landing.

His fight or flight response has his lungs in a vice grip but he still manages a laugh, “I think I should be the one asking you that.”

“You know it’s gonna take a lot more than a stray bullet to fuck me off,” he’s smiling but Frankie knows how much blood he’s lost, how long it takes for a wound like that to clot without medical intervention.

It’s true, it’ll take a lot more than a stray bullet to take William Miller but that was before, when they had back up. Out here, though? Surrounded by his brothers in arms? Having done what he just did?

Francisco Morales has never felt more alone.

“Fish,” William hits his knee against his, “where are you?”

His eyes refocus on the tepid water pounding all around him, the world coming back as he takes a deep breath, “are you afraid, Will?”

“You gotta be more specific, Frank, I’m terrified of everything.”

He’s quiet when he speaks, “me too,” barely above the downpour.

He sees Will nod in his peripheral, “I know.”

“Will, I’m afraid I’ll never see them again,” and when he chokes, he realizes he’s been crying.

“No, you can’t think like that.”

“I know, but I can’t stop it either, like…” trailing off, he lifts his face to the pressure of the water; it’s the sweetest thing he’s felt in days, “what if this is the last shower I ever take?”

“Fish…” Will reaches for him but he’s cut short.

“No, listen to me. If anything happens to me out he—“

“Nothing is going to fucking hap—"

“Shut up and let me finish,” his rage and sadness is burning hot through him, it takes everything within his being not to choke on air as he speaks again. “If anything happens to me out here, Will, take care of my girls. Please.”

The blond nods his head, heavy with exhaustion and pain, “until the very end of my life, Frankie.”

The relief that spreads through his body is better than any drug he ever tried, he feels himself slipping into an upright sleep, his heart at peace for the first time since he left his bed.

“But,” Will’s voice catches him on the edge of consciousness, “I would also face down the end of my life to make sure you see them again, do you understand me? If the only thing standing between you and a bullet is me, don’t fight. Leave me there and run like hell. You’re going back to your family.”

“But if I don’t make it…”

“Fish,” Will's laugh is drenched in the space between them, “are you saying it’s your last will and testament for me to marry your wife?”

“Fuck off,” his words are clipped, strained, “and don’t call me Fish.”

—————

They still, eyes up to the screen of the baby monitor as they hold their breath for another sound from Luna’s room. The baby settles back into silence, her small chest rising and falling on the grainy feed.

He remembers Leah opening the military grade surveillance equipment at the baby shower, the shake of her laughter as she held onto Benny’s shoulder to anchor herself to the chair.

“Should we check on her?” It’s small, a rushed question of a concerned mother.

“I said a baby monitor, Benjamin, not a prison security camera.”

“Absolutely not,” Ben grabs her hand, “This is better than any of that shit you’ll find at Target. Video means there’s no wondering either, you can just look up and assess the situation, more rest. That’s important, you’ll need to savor the little that you get.”

He pushes a lock of hair from her face, damp with the tears of the day and the sweat of the night, “no, baby, we don’t want to disturb her.”

“Yeah,” Will chimes in, his beer bottle held loosely in his hands, “Frankie should’ve been training you on sleep deprivation this whole time, you’re spec ops yourself now.”

“But what if she wakes up?”

“Well…” the corner of his mouth lifts to close the fan at the corner of his eyes, “it’s a good thing she can’t see us through that thing, right?”

“Francisc—“ the irritation of his name is finished in a heady moan lured from her body by another slow drag of his hips.

The crook of his nose slots against hers as he finds her lips again, the warmth of the room around them is nothing compared to their mouths on each other. Bathing in shared heat, her fingers entwine into the curls at the crown of his head, the other hand palm up to his chest. And as the beating of his heart races towards her burning touch, he submerges himself once again.

His firm grip holds the hinge in her leg, fingers digging into the sensitive skin that fills her lungs with fits of laughter and light. He braces himself against the bed, the aching in his forearm dulled by the soft, breathless whimpers intoxicating his entire being.

His voice is washed out when he finds it, “mi sol,” lips dragging across her own, “mis estrellas.”

Her eyes find his, heavy with admiration and trust. “Francisco,” she is drunk and drowning in the love of this man, “finish me.”

He shifts to cradle her jaw and as he trails his other hand up her thigh, he sinks within her once more. Finding his release against her own, he is convinced they’ll never be able to fully untangle again.

He presses a kiss to her nose.

My sun.

Her forehead.

My stars.

Her lips.

My whole sky.

—————

I think you put a baby in me, Francisco Morales.

He snaps back to reality, Santi and Tom’s voices echoing all around them.

His head is hot, he’s pushing past Will with concern set so deeply in his eyes he fears he’ll break right there.

Would that be so bad?

“Fucking bullshit!” Tom’s face is red, Santi having finally said what all of them are thinking.

He feels the weight of Leah in every fiber of his being, slotted perfectly against his body.

“We're all on the hook for this, are we not?”

I should’ve said no.

“God damn this fucking horse! Stop it!”

All those years blinded by loyalty to authority, Frankie never talked back to his leader but the man in front of him isn’t a leader. He’s a whiny child who’s lost his toys and Frankie hates him.

Biting back what he wants to say, he holds his hand up in a show of camaraderie, “Relax.” His finger quirks up as if he’s scolding a tantrum, “Relax. We’re not picking at the fucking scab right now, okay?”

Tom stares him down, like he’s weighing an argument against him too but Frankie’s done. He meets the taller man’s gaze, this man he would’ve died for.

“One foot in front of the other. Come on.”

This man he almost has died for.

“Let's go. Jesus fucking Christ.”

His true allegiances don’t lie to this man anymore or the gun at his hip. Not the money or the mules. He left that splintered fantasy about twenty feet back.

He’d throw this man over if it meant going home right now.

The money too.

None of it is worth a goddamn thing to him if it means he’ll never see the way that the light bounces off the gold in Leah Morales’ eyes ever again.

The same honeyed flakes in the brown of his daughter’s bright gaze.

I think you put a baby in me, Francisco Morales.

He made love to her like it was the last time he would ever see her, the last chance he would ever get. He wanted to pour his entire being into that woman, ensure that he would live on if lost to the Colombian jungle off a narco's bullet.

Would that be so bad?

He was scared but, truly, would it be so bad?

But it would be because he could truly leave her with nothing. No money, no husband, no father to her babies.

He lost count of the days he hadn’t called.

He makes his way up the mountain, following Tom’s bitching, wishing it was Leah leading him home instead.

TAG LIST: @justanotherblonde23 | @greeneyedblondie44 | @icanbeyourjedi | @princess76179 | @bbuckysbeardd | @notcookiebelle | @knivesareout | @empress-palpat1ne​

[whatifxwereyou]

Ashes Chapter 6: Level-Headed

Pairing: Liu Kang x Reader

You meet Nightwolf. Turns out that he's a really good dude. Liu Kang is still having a tough time but he is seeming at least a bit more like himself. He's got a level-head but now you're the one who can't keep it together. And who could blame you?

A/N: I am just so happy that other people like reading the nonsense I write. I know it's not the best but I'm having fun writing it and it's even more fun getting to enjoy it with people <3 Sorry I'm so sentimental lately. Just feeling really loved and I want to spread that love~

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The next day was awkward but you weren’t biting each other’s heads off at least. You were both too tired, it seemed. Liu Kang had a big red comical handprint on his face that morning but it faded by the afternoon. You were both unhappy but you supposed this might have been progress since you weren’t snapping at each other. Either that or you’d taken ten steps backwards and said things you didn’t mean and had done irreparable damage to your friendship.

By the evening you were drawing close to the spot on the map, or at least you thought you were. “Look.” You gestured to a cabin in the distance. You could barely make it out between the trees. Then there was the howling of wolves and you heard their footfalls running toward you, the shadows of the hulking beasts flittering between the trees. It was only seconds before you were surrounded by wolves enveloped in green mist.

You drew closer to Liu Kang and summoned a sword with your ink. Liu stood at the ready but didn’t summon his fire yet. Neither one of you liked to hurt animals, even when they were aggressive. Besides, the floaty green mist made it seem like you were out of your league with these wolves.

They didn’t attack. Instead the voice of a man broke through their howling and the dogs silenced as he walked amongst them. Tall, with messy dark hair, dark eyes and tan skin, the man’s presence was commanding. This had to be Nightwolf or at least someone in close relation to him.

“What brings you to this place?”

Liu made to speak but you grabbed his arm to silence him. He’d caused more than enough trouble with his mouth the past week and you no longer trusted him. “We’ve come to talk.” You dug in your bag and one of the wolves growled. Intimidated, you felt Liu Kang step before you defensively. You reached into the bag and dug for the wolf charm you’d been given. Then you presented it to the man and the wolves disappeared. The man turned away from you.

“Come.”

You exchanged a nervous glance with Liu who remained tense after you’d interrupted him. He nodded to let you know he was okay and you followed the man into the cabin. “You’re Nightwolf.” Liu Kang wanted to make sure.

“Yes, that is what they call me now. You must be trusted to have been given this location and that trinket.” He addressed you and you offered a polite bow.

“I’m Y/N and this is Liu Kang. We’ve come a long way to talk to you.” For a while, the conversation went smoothly. Liu Kang explained the dragon marking and its significance, showing off his own and having you express that you had one too. He explained the nature of the realms, of Lord Raiden, of the war that was likely coming and that you needed him to speak with Lord Raiden and come train in his temple. You were grateful that Liu Kang had somehow managed to have a civil conversation with someone. One point in the win column against a thousand in the lose column. That was something.

But Nightwolf didn’t seem eager to join you and instead mulled over your information. You couldn’t blame him. This was a lot and some of it was beyond belief without proof. If you hadn’t been thrown into the whole mix against your will, then you would have struggled with it too. You’d had nowhere else to run at the time and had been in over your head with unruly arcana and visions from the past.

“I have a duty here in America. I’ll have to think about it.” At least he was honest.

And reasonable. Leaving everything that he’d ever known was a huge decision. It didn’t mean that he wouldn’t return someday but there was also a chance that he would die. What you did was dangerous. Your lives tended to be short. You held your bag a little closer.

“I’m to bring you to Raiden’s Temple. I won’t leave without you.” Liu was sounding harsh again so you sighed. Maybe that was why Raiden had sent you together. Liu Kang was too grief stricken and angry to do his job on his own and you were too swept up in guilt to stay focused. You balanced each other in a horrible way.

“That decision is not yours to make, friend.” Nightwolf was incredibly respectful considering Liu Kang’s tone but the air became tense.

“I understand your hesitation, but would you give me a chance to try and convince you? You have a little time to think about it but we’re not sure how much. The longer you get to train the better off we’ll be. We have no idea how long before Outworld strikes again.” You tried to play mediator. Liu Kang’s hand grasped your arm and you nearly snarled in anger but somehow managed to get yourself together.

“We don’t have time for this, Y/N.” Liu scolded you.

“We do. You’re being impatient. Take a breath.” You narrowed your eyes at him dangerously.

“Excuse me, then.” He gritted his teeth and walked out the door, slamming it behind him. His temper was out of control. You winced at the sound of the door slamming. You missed him. You wanted him to be okay.

“I’m sorry. It’s been difficult. This war has taken a toll on us all.” You offered an excuse and a smile.

“He seems troubled.”

“He’s a good man, I promise. Just having a hard time right now.”

“You seem troubled.” Nightwolf added with a knowing glance. He was a good judge of character. He was calming and you were grateful for that because you had enough frustration from Liu’s attitude. If you snapped, it would have made Liu Kang’s poor attitude look like child’s play.

“And I’ll be okay too.”

“So, tell me, Miss Y/N. Why do you think that I should help you?”

“Well, it’s not me that you’re helping, that’s why. It’s not us. Earthrealm is our home, warts and all. If we have any strength then we have a responsibility to protect it in any way that we can, no matter what that means.”

“A wise answer.” He smiled and you were relieved. “Is that why you do this?”

“Ultimately, yes.” You had found, over the years, that honesty was the best policy. There were plenty of times where it didn’t work, but Nightwolf seemed to be looking for honesty. You had a feeling he would be able to tell if you lied. “I was sort of thrust into this at first. I had nowhere to go after my mark and so I was brought to Raiden’s Temple, which I fought, and then I was too sick to leave. I fought at first because I didn’t know what else to do. I was lost. But with time and understanding, I found that no matter what other reasons I had, I would fight to protect the place and people that I loved. This is my home, and I am willing to die to keep it safe.”

“But you weren’t at first?”

It felt like a test, and you hoped beyond hope that you were passing. You’d failed enough the last few months, you couldn’t risk another check in that column.

“I was overwhelmed with the scope of the danger and truth of all this. In the beginning, I treated it kind of like a joke because I didn’t understand. I knew, deep down, that it was the right thing to do but I had no other reason than that. That changed, of course. I think it’s normal to want to think it over. Liu Kang thinks it is too, he’s just not himself right now. I hope that you don’t judge him too harshly for his temper. It’s not like him.”

“I appreciate your honesty, Y/N.” He stood and walked to the counter, picking up a clear bottle filled with tan liquid. “You look like you could use a drink.”

“You have no idea.” You laughed and he joined you in having one. As long as you weren’t with Liu, there was no risk of you making another stupid mistake. And as long as one didn’t become ten, the risk of that was even lower.

Nightwolf turned out to be a kind and interesting man. He had struggled with his mark because the mark meant that he was special. You understood how that felt. Embracing the fate of something beyond your control had scared you too, but it had been worth it in the end. You listened to him as he shared his story and you shared a drink. You were a good listener. You always had been, and he seemed to appreciate the ear.

When your glasses were drained, he took them and set them aside which you were grateful for. “There are couches and some blankets that are open to you and your friend. I’ll make my decision as soon as I can, but I make no promises as to what that decision might be. You have been patient with me, and I appreciate that patience. I will do what I can.”

“This is a big decision but time is of the essence. Still, I want you to take that time.” You wouldn’t push him into giving up his life as he knew it to travel halfway across the world. You wouldn’t push anyone who didn’t deserve pushing. You also had the feeling that he was going to help. He seemed like a kind and powerful man whose motives were morally aligned with yours. You were grateful for that. So many with the dragon marking had wound up being scumbags.

“Thank you. Get some rest, Y/N.”

“I will. You too.” You watched him leave and then were left alone in the kitchen. You set your bag down on the smaller couch and walked outside. There was a firepit near the house and several overturned logs that served as benches. You sat on one of the logs and faced away from the firepit. The sky was overcast that night so you couldn’t see the stars but watching the clouds was soothing too.

Then Liu Kang sat next to you.

This was all too familiar now. You watched the clouds and were at peace for a short time.

“I’m apologizing again.”

“Oh. What for now?” You couldn’t help it. The sarcasm came out. He mulled it over as if to be thinking through the list of nonsense that he’d done in the last few days that he had to apologize for. Then he gestured back to the cabin.

“Being a jerk about this whole thing, for one.”

“That is just not specific enough, I’m afraid.” You turned to him.

“Being short with Nightwolf. He deserved time to mull it over.”

“I know he did. You know he did. You’ve got to figure out this temper that you’ve developed, Liu.”

“I don’t know where it came from. I always had such control.” He slumped his shoulders.

“You’re grieving.”

“Yeah, but so are you and you aren’t jumping down everyone’s throats for no reason.”

“Not when you’re looking, at least.” You were still angry with him even if he seemed willing to talk. He’d upset you. An apology wasn’t enough.

“I’ve got to get it together.” He held his head in his hands and pushed his hair back, disgusted with himself. The sound he made would have been funny if you hadn’t been a terrible mixture of mad at him and worried for him.

“Do you know what I keep thinking? What I keep wishing for?”

“Kung Lao to be back?” He said in a tired drone.

“No. I keep hoping that you find peace. I’m crushed by his death, Liu, but you’re broken.” You watched the clouds again. You wanted him to be okay, but you couldn’t be an emotional punching bag for him to figure it out with. He watched you and you could feel his eyes taking you in longer than they should have. He scooted closer. He probably didn’t believe you, and you couldn’t blame him.

“Your being here helps.”

Bullshit.

You laughed in disbelief. Liu Kang radiated with fire and you knew that feeling all too well and scooted a little away.

“Really? Because I feel like I’m actively making it worse.”

“Well, it’s complicated, isn’t it?”

“That’s a good word for it.”

“You remind me of him. You make it real. But also, you’re my friend. You were more than that.” He shrugged, clasping his hands in front of him, elbows on his knees. “We never really talked about it and it made things so hard.”

“We’re talking right now. We’ve talked and yelled a lot the last few days.” You were tired of talking about your grief in vague niceties. You were tired of being comforting. Of fighting.

“Not Kung Lao. Not grief.” He gestured between you and then returned his hands to his knees as if he had more control of them there. “About this.” You sighed heavily. Hadn’t you slapped him real hard about it the night before? “About what it was before you decided on Kung Lao.”

“I didn’t decide anything, remember? We did talk about it, Liu Kang. And you said that it wasn’t like it meant anything. That I didn’t owe you anything. A keep the change sort of comment. Remember?” You didn’t want to talk about it. You were so tired of fighting with him. It felt endless. How could Raiden do this to you? Why? Had you offended him in some way? Had your grief over Kung Lao not been loud and sad enough? “It doesn’t matter what you meant then, Liu, because that was what I was left with and so that was what I believed for years.”

“Except that I did that for Kung Lao. Do I not get to talk about it?”

“Sometimes it’s better to leave the past in the past and move on.”

“Except that it isn’t the past anymore, Y/N.” He grabbed your arm and urged you to look at him. You stiffened up. “I guess that you were hoping we’d just never talk about the other night. You keep running off. I tried to say something in the motel but you shut me down hard.”

“You can’t do this.” You struggled to speak without your voice trembling. His eyes were so dark and sad and full of fire, his lips twitching in a way where you couldn’t take your eyes off of them. “You can’t just bring it up whenever it’s convenient for you. You can’t just… wreck my emotions on repeat because you’re grieving. I’m grieving too.”

“Yeah, well you can’t just crawl into my bed and leave a bunch of scars down my back and then fuck off because it’s convenient for you.”

You were exasperated and threw your hands up in frustration. “We were drunk! Obliterated!”

“I wasn’t that drunk. I remember, Y/N.”

“Yeah, well I was. It was a mistake, Liu Kang. A grievous, drunken error that has only made things exponentially more difficult. I was sad and vulnerable and wasted. I made a mistake, okay? So maybe, just maybe, you can eat some of those lies you told me years ago. It’s not like it meant anything.” You spat with some venom and were surprised with yourself, covering your mouth after you’d said it. Oh, that hurt.

“I’m done lying, Y/N. I was never good at it. You’re not either.” He hadn’t yelled at you, which surprised you. In fact, he seemed to have a level head on more than you did. “It wasn’t a mistake for me. I knew what I was doing. I get that you’re trying to hurt me because you’re mad and grieving.” He said that in such an annoying way that you could have smacked him again. “But I’m saying now what I should have said all those years ago. It meant something. It meant something then and I knew what would happen if I went through with it the other night and I chose to anyway.” Liu was going to kill you at this rate. You were just going to drop dead. “Maybe I needed to feel something other than angry and sad. Maybe I thought I should try and undo something I regretted.”

Why was he so level-headed? Why, in this moment, had he managed to keep back his temper? If you could just yell at each other and hate each other it would be so much easier. But you didn’t hate him, you were torn between wanting to shake some sense into him and kiss him and it was so frustrating. Kissing him would only leave you more hurt but it seemed like the easier option too. You didn’t. You fought it, even if he seemed to be drawing closer. The tension of Liu Kang was so thick you could barely breathe.

“It was a mistake, Liu.” Your words were shaky but you tried to stand your ground. You’d beaten yourself up over this for too long and there he was, making it so much more complicated.

“Was it, Y/N? It didn’t feel like it was. It didn’t sound like it was.” His voice was low and serious and you felt your stomach twist into knots. “Look me in the eyes and tell me it was a mistake. That it was all a mistake. That it didn’t crush you when I said that all those years ago? That it had ever stopped being passionate between us even when we weren’t together. Tell me that. Look me in the eye and tell me that’s your truth and I will drop it.” He grasped your cheek and urged you to look him in the eyes.

You tried.

You couldn’t.

You were going to burst into tears at this rate and then he’d hold you and kiss you and you’d end up making this even more complicated and you couldn’t do that. Not right now. Not when he’d taken everything you’d known as truth and thrown it out the window. “I’m grieving Kung Lao and...” You couldn’t finish it. You couldn’t because it had never been a mistake to you back then. He was the one who had drawn the line in the sand. You’d just believed what he’d wanted you to believe for Kung Lao’s sake. And the other night was not something you remembered. There were only flashes of hot and sweaty lovemaking and all that version of you had felt was pleasure. Liu pulled his hand back and sighed.

“Figures that you would honor his memory more than think about yourself. He’d remind you that you were a terrible liar.”

You wiped your eyes as they betrayed you with tears and struggled to find words that didn’t involve crying or sobbing. You didn’t want to cry in front of him, damnit. You didn’t want to cry because of him. “This isn’t fair. It isn’t fair, Liu Kang. You can’t just… I can’t take much more.”

“I’m not trying to mess with your head, Y/N. I’m not trying to hurt you. You feel guilty but you don’t have any reason to. You think I don’t feel guilty? It’s eating me up. But we owe it to ourselves, don’t we? To figure it out?”

“Why are you being like this? Why now? Why?” You wiped furiously at your eyes. Stupid tears. You were so tired of your eyes being puffy and painful all the time. Stupid Liu Kang and his stupid emotions and his stupid whirlwind of honesty and misplaced anger. Stupid Kung Lao, dying and leaving you to deal with this. Stupid Raiden not sending you alone.

“I think that you turned down Kung Lao’s proposal because you were worried that maybe you still had feelings for me and had to figure that out first.”

That was the last straw. You broke.

You hated that it was partially true. You’d never stopped being attracted to him and that had become painfully obvious. What a selfish reason it had been to turn down the love of a man who had been dedicated to you and you alone. You swore that your heart was shutting down, it was beating so hard. He had you confused. Was that part of the reason? You didn’t know because you hadn’t been given the chance to figure it out. The truth was that you probably would have married Kung Lao. You would have talked about your plans for the future, what he saw of it, what you saw of it, and then accepted his proposal. You hadn’t turned it down because you didn’t love him. You had turned it down because you’d needed to talk. You were less spontaneous than Kung Lao had been. The only reason he’d needed was love and you’d needed to know more details. That was it. Liu Kang was making you overthink in ways you hadn’t in years.

“I can’t do this.” You stood and Liu grabbed your arm before you could leave. His fingers brushed down your wrist and to your hand and he gave you a look as if begging you to stay. It was killing you.

“We can’t avoid this forever.”

“I let you have your time to process this bullshit, Liu Kang and you are going to let me have mine.” He didn’t let you go. His grip tightened on your hand as if afraid to let you walk away, as if you would never come back. “Liu Kang?”

“Don’t go, Y/N.”

“You will let go of me right this instant.” You avoided his eyes. “You have ignored my feelings in favor of yours for long enough tonight. Let me go.”

Liu’s grip tightened but then he very suddenly let go and turned away with a bow of his head. “Of course, Y/N.”

The panic as you marched back inside the cabin and sat down on the couch was killing you. You held your head in your hands. What were you supposed to do with this? You had to calm down, first and foremost. Thankfully, Liu didn’t follow you inside and you had some peace and quiet but your thoughts weren’t much better than his argument had been.

You’d fucked up.

It would have been so much easier if neither one of you felt anything. It would have been easier if he had been as drunk as you had been. It would have been easier if you could continue believing that it really had meant nothing. It had never meant nothing to you. It had crushed you and taken you months to recover from that sadness with no one to talk to about it. You may not have remembered the other night but you remembered him from all those years ago.

The hot nights, the times you’d spent devoted to each other’s bodies, tangled up in his sheets or in yours. He’d made you feel sexy and forbidden, something beyond desire that no one else had ever made you feel. You hated those memories for so long that it was hard to feel any way other than that.

You loved Kung Lao.

But would you have even gotten the chance to if Liu Kang hadn’t said what he’d said? You had this connection, this fire that you couldn’t put out even after years of letting it simmer down. Even now when you’d fought, you had known that if you didn’t get out of there then you would have given into that passion, that instinct. What a mess of a human being you were. You curled up on the couch and this time you didn’t pull your bag close to you. You couldn’t think about Kung Lao when you were like this.

Next Chapter >>

[maplecornia]

chapter 24

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 2.94K

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: romance | slice of life | fluff | angst | bts x female!reader | ot7

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪��𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔞/𝔫: things are getting heavyyy

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: cliffhangers | angst | fluff | slight mentions of self hatred | depression | mental health illness | self harm | occurs in the year 2024 | set in a timeline where BTS went to the military together | slight language

tags: @kookaine | @fangirl125reader | @kookiebbyxx | @taradevonne | @rae-bear |@mangminnie | @pixiekooo

If you're still enough, you can hear the inner whispers of your heart.

Have you noticed?

You're able to hear everything you have kept locked away. It tries to break through the cage, and you can feel the chains growing weaker and weaker with each passing moment. Each tick of the clock drawing closer and closer to the moment where you can no longer hold it in.

Where you finally break down.

Taehyung sighs and leans back in his chair, the meeting room now empty and dark. It's hard to believe that at the break of day it was filled with conflict and torn decisions.

-

"I'm against it."

At the sound of Yoongi's sharp dismissal, it's as though the room wakes up. Some in protest, some in shock. Suga raises his brow at the reaction, almost scoffing when he sees it.

"It's too much of a risk." He sighs almost in contempt. "If you want her so badly, why not sign her with Source or Pledis? They're our shareholders for a reason. Plus, since we're all under HYBE it will be exactly like she were a BigHit affiliation. Given the way this industry runs, however, she's probably best out of Kpop and should be signed under HYBE America. After all, she is a foreigner."

Though they are harsh, his words make sense. This would be the most logical approach rather than breaking their ban on female trainees. They made the ban for a reason, Yoongi doesn't understand why they would throw that away for someone who is slightly talented.

Besides, what about every other talented girl before her?

What reason should she have to achieve the dream which they were denied?

"I have to agree with Yoongi," Jin speaks up, his brow furrowed in concentration. "She has a unique and beautiful voice, that much is true. It'd be a shame to let it go, but if you think about it, we wouldn't be letting it go. Giving it to another company under HYBE might provide a better chance for her in the industry."

Taehyung bites his lip, not liking where this is going.

Jin glances around the table, hesitating before he says his next piece.

"We just got back, can we trust that they'll accept us if we do this? Next thing you know there'll be rumors of a scandal."

Though it was all on their minds, it still hurts to hear it out loud.

Can they trust ARMY to be there for them this time?

"It is a bit concerning. She'll be the only female trainee in an all-male company. Can you imagine the rumors? The field day Dispatch would have? She'd be hated before she even had a chance to show them her worth." Jhope murmurs under his breath, his eyes sparkling with deep worry.

They've all faced that. The fear of being hated for just being you. For existing without the mask.

"But I liked her," Jimin says, leaning forward. Though his words are simple, they are said with the most sincerity. "She's someone you hardly ever see, her voice stays with you, it doesn't leave. It's the kind that people can't get enough of. That's something special...shouldn't we take that into account?"

Biting his inner cheek, Taehyung glances up at BangPD, wondering if he knows. Did Jungkook tell him? He knew about Yen, why wouldn't he have found out about him as well?

If only he hadn't saved that recording. If only he hadn't been so careless, then none of this would have happened.

Somehow he feels as though those moments are being stolen from him.

"Jimin has a point, Yoongi. Did you hear her?" Jin speaks up, his gaze glazing over as though he were looking into the distance. Or recalling a long forgotten memory. Yoongi scoffs and smirks bitterly.

"Of course I did, I have ears."

"Are you sure?" Jin mutters in response, but it's almost as though Yoongi can't hear him.

"Think of this realistically, you have to know there's zero to no chance of her making it. Even if she's talented." There's a moment of uncomfortable silence at his words, words which no one wanted themselves to say. Sighing, Suga gestures towards Namjoon.

"Come on, Joon back me up here."

The room turns to Namjoon, waiting to hear his response.

He stays silent for a moment, his hand resting on his chin as he ponders the situation, his deep eyes calculating moves and countermoves. Possible situation and solutions.

All while trying to forget that the possible trainee is Yen.

Biting his bottom lip, he can't help but remember the way she was in the studio. How her eyes lit up with unimaginable love and devotion. A look only a fellow artist would be able to recognize. She was made for this, he can tell. She yearns to sing, to be lost in music, enveloped in a world of her own making. To be able to share that with others.

Looking over at BangPD, he narrows his eyes thoughtfully.

"What are you planning to do?"

Yoongi's eyes widen at Namjoon’s question, and he leans back, looking to BangPD's response. Bang Sihyuk smiles softly, almost as though he expected this.

For some reason, that look irks Taehyung.

Don’t think you can control us. We weren’t made for your chessboard.

"It will be on a purely trial basis. I am planning to sign her as a trainee, but the public will not know about it until I am sure that she will be a good addition." He looks towards Suga, pointedly directing his next statement towards him. "I understand your concerns for her. After all, she would be our first female trainee for a while."

Suga bites his inner cheek in protest, leaning back in his chair and brooding.

"However, I have been planning this for a while now." The room goes silent with the revelation as they turn to him, waiting for him to reveal more. "Ever since you've left for the military, I've been thinking of possible trainees to recruit for a new girl group. The first girl group to be officially under BigHit entertainment. They would be managed, produced, and signed underneath our label. Not through a loophole like BE:LIFT, Source Music, or Pledis. This would be ours and ours alone."

Jimin shakes his head in confusion. "Why now? What changed?"

BangPD sighs, his careful eyes scanning the room in a calm and collected manner.

"I don't know entirely myself." He rubs his face before continuing, playing with the portfolio of Yen. "I thought it was time to expand our horizons, to try something new...I guess you could say I was inspired."

He glances towards Namjoon, and Joon can't help but remember that day all those years ago.

The day when BangPD proposed a plan, an inspiration to him, not quite unlike this one.

Namjoon’s brow furrowed in concentration, he turns to your smiling photo, still spread across the table.

Was it you?

Were you the reason for this inspiration?

"In any case, before I moved any further, I wanted to see if things would work out with her. One trainee. I didn't want to make a mistake like last time, hence the trial period." Bang Sihyuk continues, swaying a bit in his chair.

"Who would train her?" Taehyung mutters underneath his breath, unable to look away from your photo this whole time. Turning to BangPD, his eyes are aflame with conviction. "If we have our normal staff take part in her training, we won't be able to control who else could find out. If her existence were to be completely secret, who could we trust?"

It's a valid question, but Taehyung doesn't like the glint Sihyuk gets in his eyes at the notion. Silently, he wishes he never spoke up. Maybe then he would've been able to stay under the radar, and BangPD would never have to suspect he had any affiliation with the girl.

With Yen.

"You would."

Two words is all it takes.

Two words and the room is in an uproar.

"What are you talking about?! We have enough on our plate with our comeback, and now you expect us to train a girl who shouldn't even be here in the first place?!" Yoongi is so outraged that he stands, his chair rolling back into the wall.

"Yoongi, calm down--" RM begins, but Suga isn't willing to listen to anyone at the moment.

"Do you have any idea how much pressure we're under? And now you want to add an inexperienced trainee to our list of burdens just because she can sing?!" he snarls, his lip curling in disgust, his eyes dark with anger.

"Yoongi-hyung, you heard her voice. You have to admit that we found something here." Jungkook speaks up, meekly. Taehyung narrows his eyes his way.

Just what does Jungkook get out of all this? Taehyung knows he has to be the one who gave BangPD the file of your voice. He was the only other one there, besides Taehyung. Taehyung himself couldn’t bring himself to give you the flash drive, but Jungkook didn’t even think to tell you. He went straight to BangPD as though this were his decision to make. Did he even think of asking you what you thought?

What’s your angle?

Yoongi rolls his eyes, gesturing to the portfolio on the table.

"Yeah, we found something. But not something worth risking everything we built over!"

"Don't you think you're being a dramatic? We aren't even sure if this will work out. It's just a trial, and it's the best option for us to train them given the situation." Namjoon murmurs, rationally. Suga's eyes flame with defiance at the rebuttal and slams his hand on the table.

"And what happens if word gets out before we're ready?"

The room goes silent with the ultimatum, and they all avoid his gaze.

"What happens when we're the cause of her downfall?"

Glancing at each other, they ponder the question. A question that has weighed heavily on them ever since they debuted, ever since they became the star in the public's eye. Ever since the world knew about the boy group...

BTS.

Scowling, Yoongi pulls away.

"I don't know about the rest of you, but I don't have time for this. I have work to do, work that has been waiting for us for 2 years! Or did you all forget our promise?" When they don't answer him, he scoffs, pulling his backpack on his shoulder and walking out the door. "I'll see you at practice."

There's a moment of silence as soon as Yoongi leaves, silence uncomfortable and pressing. Licking his lips in nervous anticipation, Hoseok looks at the rest of them, almost unsure.

"Is he going to be okay?"

BangPD leans forward, folding his hands on the table.

"Don't worry about Yoongi, I'll talk to him later. But what about the rest of you?"

His quick, analytical eyes scan the table, hovering over every one of them. Almost as if he were trying to predict what exactly they would say next.

"Do you agree?"

-

Now, Taehyung grits his teeth. His grip tightening around the water bottle he was playing with in his hands, he throws it across the wall. As he watches it crumble at the force, he finds the ruin in his mind easing. Water drips off of the wall, and he feels a sort of sadistic satisfaction at the sight of destruction.

Now he’s not the only one broken.

But once that fades, he's left once more with his memories and his regret.

"Dammit." He groans, dropping his face in his hands hopelessly.

-

Standing, Tae grabs Jungkook by the hand before he can follow the rest of them out. The door shuts behind them, leaving only him and Jungkook in the meeting room, an uneasy silence hanging over them. With words they need to say, questions waiting to be answered.

"Taeh--" Jungkook begins, but in his rush, Tae interrupts him.

"Were you there?"

The silence that blossoms between them grows to a deafening roar as Jungkook gently pulls away from Taehyung's firm hold. It creates a bitter but necessary distance between the two of them. It lets them know that they're different, that what happened back then was something that belonged to one as much as it did the other.

"You heard her too, didn't you?" Jungkook murmurs, his words turning Taehyung's blood cold. Smiling softly, Jungkook runs his hands through his hair. "I saw you as you were leaving, you were the one who recorded her, aren't you?"

Biting his bottom lip, Tae can't answer. Even though he knows that moment wasn't his, even though he knows that his ideas of fate and chance have been destroyed, he's unable to admit to it. He can't find it in him to voice the fact that he was there, that he gave birth to her chance, and he wanted it to be his and his alone.

Jungkook chuckles nervously at the silence before speaking once more.

"I wonder...why didn't you have the same idea as me?"

-

His hands tangled up in the locks of his hair, Taehyung stares at the slick wooden table, his heart in knots and his mind jumbled.

"Why didn't I?" he mutters to himself, a soft whisper that lingers empty on the air. "Why couldn't I say anything?"

Pulling away from the table, where Yen's future was decided this morning, he swallows hard. By the end of the day, he found himself lingering around this room, the studio, anyplace that reminded him of her.

Laughing bitterly, he rubs his forehead.

"Why..." He whispers, holding his phone tightly to his chest.

"Why can't I forget you?"

Biting his bottom lip, he quickly messages you, having the sudden urge to see you. Maybe then, would he realize what he can't find? Would he be able to create another memory, another moment in time? One that was yours and yours alone?

After a couple of moments, you don't answer.

Maybe...I was just afraid of letting go.

Standing almost decisively, he rushes out of the room, and down the hallways of the building.

I need to know.

As he rides the same elevator you rode yesterday down to the lobby, he holds his phone tighter in his hand.

If I don't find out now, I may never get another chance.

Desperate, he sends another message to you.

One more time.

Catching his face in the metallic walls of the elevator, he can't help but imagine yours smiling up at him. A face that makes everything seem alright again.

That's all I need.

What happens when that is taken away from him? What happens when he can no longer see the person who gives him courage? Biting his lip, he can feel the pain in his chest grow.

Just let me see you one more time.

He doesn't want to let you go.

As the elevator dings and he steps out, he pauses, seeing Namjoon right in front of him. Namjoon glances up, his eyes glazed over and tired, but when he sees Tae, they widen in recognition. Taehyung smiles inwardly to himself, he knows this look. A look lost in the wilderness of creativity and desolation.

"Oh, Taehyung!" he says, and Taehyung nods to him curtly before brushing past him and continuing to the front door. Namjoon, however, catches him by the wrist and Tae pauses, turning around.

"Namjoon?" His face is blank, but something in his eyes tells Tae to be wary. They are sort of dark, not really there, but urgent and anxious. Taehyung wonders how eyes can hold so many words, and yet tell you nothing at all.

"You knew, didn't you?"

At his words, Tae blinks, his heart pounding.

"I..."

"That's why you followed her, how you knew about her injury."

How does he know?

"When were you going to tell me?"

Biting his bottom lip, Taehyung can't help but feel a bit of aggravation towards his older friend. Why can't he keep anything to himself? Why is it a crime for him to live his own life, without everyone looking in? Yanking his arm out of Namjoon's grip, he scowls, turning on his heel.

"When it became your business."

Namjoon stands there, a bit in shock before rushing forward and taking Tae forcibly by the arm once more.

"Taehyung, wait!" At his touch, Tae tries to pull away, but Namjoon won't budge, his eyes desperate and wild. They unnerve Taehyung, make him want to escape, hide away until everything turns back to normal again. "If she's going to become an idol, any affiliation you have with her will only hurt her."

Tae's eyes widen at his words, snapping a hidden string he didn't know he had inside of him. RM doesn't notice, instead, his grip tightens around Tae until he feels as though he's suffocating from the inside out.

"You know that right?"

Gritting his teeth, Tae pulls away from Namjoon, staggering back until he's a good distance away. Raising his eyes to his hyung, Namjoon finds a look he's never seen in his younger friend before.

Loathing.

"Don't act as though you know everything." He spits before turning away and walking out of the door.

Namjoon sighs as he watches him leave before glancing over at the now empty lobby. The lobby where just a day ago, he met a sweet, cheerful girl. Someone who filled his mind with inspiration and wonder.

Smiling sadly, he rubs the back of his neck, looking up at the sky as though that will offer him the answers he seeks.

"Just who are you, Yen?"

𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢: this one was actually pretty hard to write, i'm ngl ;-;

chapter 25 here

check the Infinite Stars masterlist for more chapters

check my BTS masterlist for other BTS content

check out my masterlist for other kpop fanfics

[sammysera]

What happens in Madripoor, stays in Madripoor (SHORT READER X BUCKY ONE SHOT)

Synopsis ~ It’s winter! You have lived in the outskirts of Madripoor your whole life and met Bucky partial way through, he was busy off saving the world until he had to come back. As he walks in the door your heart flutters, reminding you of the forever-teenage-crush you seemed to have on him, his personality, his eyes, his laugh, his hairs, his lips, You both decide to spend a bit of time together away from the crowds of avenging, what’s the worst that could happen?

Warning: profanity, drowning/death, mild sexual content, blood, murder, knives, 

Word count: 3254

This has only other been posted on my Twitter. It should NOT be posted on any other accounts apart from @/imgodbtchesmrvl on Twitter and this tumblr.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The cold gusts rushed through the cracks of the window, begging to be accepted into the warmth of my home. Door creaked to the rattle of the wind’s pushes and shoves trying to get in and infect my home with the spiteful bite of raw frost. My body draped over a small coach in the corner of the living room in front of a dark-screened TV was my hands nestled book pages between each finger. 

My breath was short. The tensity of the book’s situation increased, pokes and prods of the cold dotted my skin heavily beneath my thin sweater. Dancing through the pages of the book my eyes glued to the lettering, each printed meant something which helped to create this world of murder, in the simple nook of my two hands. 

Blood splattered, knives thrown, glares of the dead and skulls of the living crept images into my mind of the entirely different century and world, sat between my palms. Rattle.

I tilted my head as my eyes slipped to the small handle of my front door. Blasting wind impacted the thing for the hundredth time in the last hour so my head shook away the thought of entry, the creep of reading this mysterious dark, world in front of me didn’t help the anxious-confidence of curiosity bugging my mind. Rattle.

I tilted my head as my eyes slipped to the small handle of my front door. This time I shivered as my right hand removed itself from the small portal in my hands and scratched up my bookmark off the couch, beneath my right thigh. I never removed my eyes from that blasted door handle, they stayed locked onto the threat. The bookmark noted the chapter of the book I reached prior to the interruption and I placed the paper-back down on a miniature grey table beside my current seat. Rattle.

My irises still locked onto that handle, I shifted upwards and still not unlocking my gaze I grabbed a little knife from the table beside me. You see, being the best friend one the one and only Winter Soldier doesn’t necessarily gain you any more confidence that you’ll “always be protected”. No. In fact it did quite the opposite, it exposed a weakness. One which could be exploited, especially is said-weakness had no defence techniques and was incapable to do a thing to defend themselves. On the other hand, there is me, Buck taught me basic ways to defend myself from predators and weakened parts of the body that could help me to take someone down if I needed to. Rattle.

My body thrusted against the wall in series with the door as the handle clicked. Shit. The wooden opening creaked as it threw itself around the hinge in an anti-clockwise, slow, manor. My body shivered to the hug of the frosty wind. Footsteps started to sound as a dark body started to enter the frame. I shot my knife towards it but their arms performed an ‘L’ shape, blocking my attempt, my eyes slowly looking upwards.

Bucky ‘Buchanan’ Barnes.

“Bucky.” I smirked at the tall, handsome loveable-stranger. “Hey, Frosty.” His relentless grin stole his features hastily, suddenly he thrusted himself forward onto me- shocking me I slipped backwards onto the hard, wooden floor and he fell directly on top of me but his hands slammed down either side of my head.

My eyes widened, glistening into his. I felt my heart start to palpitate at the sight of his features directly over me, just an inch or two from my own face. His chiselled jaw laced with a thin dark stubble, thin lips parted but soft, lower lip grinningly bitten slightly by an upper tooth, pearly whites staring back at me as his smile revealed at my flustered face. His eyes never left my own from our first conversion of words when he arrived.

Hesitantly his body came down on top of me, throwing a wave over my own body, of desire for my ever-long crush to just kiss me. As his entire body lie over my own, my legs already spread from the fall with his own placed between them, he halted. Mouth beside my ear. 

“A little weak on our defence, huh?” He groaned into my ear, his deep voice soothed the tension of my yearning body. A little laugh left his voice as his body lifted upwards and he settled between my legs, one knee led flat and the other pointed upwards, he never let the grin leave his face as a large hand offered help to my own. 

I grabbed it and smiled as we stood up together and he ripped me into a hug, squashing our body together. My body relaxed under the handsome scent of his, pine from the woodland next to my home, cologne, gun powder and fire. The best scent of all, all of this combined. Buck’s large arms engulfed half of my body and he smiled into my hair, not saying a word, just living in the moment of current affection. 

I pushed my arms around his waist and cuddled into his solid chest, his muscles were easy to feel through his thin shirt, how could he be wearing such a thin shirt in this weather? I blushed a little again under his groan of joy from our glued bodies. I missed this. I missed him. 

Finally after five minutes we parted and he gripped my shoulders with his humongous hands, I smiled at the hold, his eyes stared through into my soul and I felt almost naked from that gaze of his,  “How are you?” I smiled a bit more at the question, “Better now that you’re back, Buck.” I patted his arm and he let go as I left for the kitchen, him plodding his large soldier-body behind me. 

“I assume you’re hungry, Bucky?” my head turned as I started to walk backwards into the kitchen, making it through the doorway then turning back so I would walk forward to the fridge and pull out some ingredients for one of my best recipes: a sandwich. 

“If you wouldn’t mind making me something too, I’d appreciate that.” I looked up to the super-soldier as he plopped his body into a breakfast-bar chair in front of the bar while I shifted around in front of him making two sandwiches for the both of us. 

-=-=-

Time skip: 4 hours later.

catch-up: after the last few hours of talking we discussed life, love, The Avengers, how Bucky was, how I was, what we want in future. We talked about so much half of it I couldn’t even remember. But we decided that now we are going to go out in the snow to just have some general fun. It didn’t snow a whole lot in America this year so when Bucky came here, to Madripoor, he was wanting to at least enjoy the bite of snow at his skin while he was here. 

-=-=-

I shot down the hallway of my little bungalow, darting past Bucky’s door and he chuckled at the sight of my body running round the smallest home he had to ever of been in, as if it was some sort of incredibly important emergency. 

“Seriously, you can chill out Frosty, it snows here about two-foot a day in winter. It isn’t like we are going to miss it.” he cackled lacing his foot with a dark thick boot when I jumped in front of him. I grasped both of his shoulders and made him look directly into my eyes as I explained, “No you don’t understand, tonight’s sunset is going to be the most gorgeous one of the year. You need to see this one.” My face flourished emotionlessness as seriousness stole my features. Again, a cackle left his mouth while he stood up, placing a thick coat over his torso and zipping it shut to encase the heat of his body. 

I nodded to him, eyes wide in question of if he was finally ready to leave and he returned the nod which indicated for us to go. I squealed, almost launching out of the front door and I creased the perfection of the snow which had settled on my front-door-step. 

As I placed one foot into the candy-floss-snow my feet raced through the infinite acres of snow and I raced my body through the trees of the woodland placed in front of my bungalow, running from the calling of Bucky’s voice to stop. I giggled at my head start and hid behind a tree, circling a ball of snow into a snow-ball.

Footsteps crept closer alongside heavy breaths and more calls for his ‘Frosty’. My hand laced my mouth to stop a little giggle escaping at his confusion of where I had hidden, as his back turned towards me I ran out and launched a fist of snow into the centre of his back. 

He spun around, a smirk gaining his features at the sight of me running away from him, no more snow in hand. His body thrusted towards me at a heavy speeding pace while I ran directly towards frozen lake I know of local to the woodland. As I shoved branches out of my path, hearing the gaining footsteps I chose to take a detour from my original path.

Before Bucky realised, I managed to take an arm of snow and climb up a tree, I was then sat up on a thick branch draping across to entwine with another arm from another tree halted proudly upwards, my eyes chased Bucky’s movements below me. A small smile flourished on my face, watching Buck struggle to find my where-a-bouts. 

He spun in circles directly below me, his jacket creasing over his muscular arms, his dark hair being discoloured by the snow falling on top of the short locks of hair, his stubble starting to also discolour. He started to sputter as some snow must have landed on his lips or in his mouth and he slapped his face over trying to get the snow off his stubble and out of his mouth. Forcing my laughter to try to contain itself even more.

My self-control started to lack as I giggled aloud a little bit but not enough to make him notice my location. 

He paused for a moment, squinting in the distance and a breeze overcame the air, dancing his hair forwards allowing from him to use this as an excuse to then run his hand through his hair and pull it from his eyes, this act, although not intentionally flirtatious or arousing, caused that same prior desire for him to just kiss me and be with me returned to my feelings and thoughts.

To contain this, at least for right now, I encased a ball of snow in my hand and swung back my right arm, preparing a throw down towards the back of Buck’s head. Perfect shot. Perfect aim. Perfect target. Perfect everything. I swung it but as my arm came forward and released the ball of frozen water, it slapped into the direct centre of Bucky’s face and I gasped.

Eyes widened. 

Buck’s hand and cyborg moved upwards towards the snow encasing his features and as he wiped it off I released the loudest laughter I had ever had. My laughter captured Bucky’s attention and his face shot upwards towards me, allowing me to admire his beauty through tears of laughter. 

While cackling uncontrollably I suddenly lost my grip, grabbing some snow on my fall down through the air instead of a branch. Everything was in slow motion.

“NO!” Bucky’s voice bellowed as my body dropped from the branch of the tree and my hand grabbed a fist of snow. 

Falling.

Bright images of my parents drowning in the local lake appeared in front of me, I relived each and every moment of that trauma within seconds that felt like hours. The experience of not being able to save them engraved my memory and this must have been my “white light” that everyone talks about seeing when they die.

My hair danced in the pull of gravity versus the light-weight of my hair, it flowed upwards and my body fell through the layer of frost-bitten air, slowly getting closer and closer to the white-bedded grass.

My eyes closed.

Warmth.

My eyes opened and I felt two arms wrapped around me. One under my upper torso and the other under my two legs, shock overcame me as I was sure this was the moment I’d die. My eyes turned to look at my knight, Bucky.

Bucky grasped me in his arms, worry embedded his features as he let go of a breath and closed his eyes bringing his forehead forward into my own, he was scared. Scared he’d lost me. Scared he was going to lose me. “Don’t ever do that again Frosty.” I giggled a bit and brought my forehead upwards. Our mouths centimetres apart, lust for kissing his claimed my mind as we both looked at each other’s lips, my eyes slowly looking up into his, “I planned on doing this everyday, darling.” I smirked and pulled away, shooting out of his arms and running towards the lake.

As I launched from his arms I saw a slight grin claim his lips again, replacing the worry he once had. I couldn’t tell if it was because of the snarky comment and sarcasm which claimed my personality like slave, or whether it was because I called him ‘darling’. 

My thighs pounded against each other as I slid across the opening and onto the ice, I locked down onto one knee, skimming across the soft ice allowing it to slide me as far as it could. I turned in circles across the ice hearing small cracks as I danced, I slightly caught Bucky appearing through the opening and standing on the verge of the ice, smiling at the sight of my let-go. 

Dancing allows my body to let go, I love to dance. It sets my soul free and I love to do it on this lake, when its frozen, or in this opening to honour my parents. They loved my dancing, they loved me dancing. Bucky loved to watch me dance. I’ve seen so many smiles lace his face whenever he watched me dance, it made me feel alive to see him enjoy watching me do something I enjoy. It only made me love him more.

I turned in a circle, several times. Feeling the gushing wind spin out from my speeding rate of turns and and I brought my arm down, a hand gripped my right waist and my left hand. I looked into the depths of who had taken my hand.

Bucky sincerely smiled and started to dance with me. We rushed around the outskirts of the lake, spinning and turning, so many moments where all we did was lose ourselves in each other’s glistening eyes. The snow only emphasised the aura around us. We both love winter so it only feels absolutely perfect whenever we are together in this weather and season. 

Bucky looked deep into my eyes as I stared into his with an equal smile, his ocean-eyes glowed even more in the shimmer of white around us. He spun me round and I fell into his right arm as he brought me down towards the ice with my leg hung upwards in the air, his face following my own.

Our faces, almost parallel following each other at every moment. He brought me up, an even deeper and emotional smile gathered across his entire face, his stubble creased under one of his numbered smiles. 

Bucky doesn’t tend to be joyful too much because of everything he went through so whenever he is around me I tended to do whatever I could to make him smile. Even if it meant doing something incredibly stupid, as long as a smile graced his features, thats all that matters. 

I stood directly opposite him and he spun me before bringing me back down into and identical position to our last, except now our faces were directly parallel. My leg strung up in the air again, assuming a dance pose. 

His deeper emotions surfaced, “I don’t know why it took me so long to do this.”

I tilted my head at his comment and he thrusted forward. Our lips crashed, perfectly. We kissed, our lips smothered each other passionately and there wasn’t a single regret in that moment from either of us. 

If passion could be physically shown, there would be mass fires surrounding our bodies as they pushed together under the heated love through our simple kiss.

Bucky’s hand clenched my ass jokingly and I chuckled at his cheeky grab as he chuckled at my laugh. I pulled my arms around his neck and tugged him closer as our bodies brought upwards. Never once did our lips part. 

Buck’s arms wrapped around my lower back as mine stretched around his lower neck and his little laugh escaped, parting our lips from the struggle of reaching completely around his neck.

“Who’d have thought such a short-ass would be the one I fall for?” he giggled down to me.

“Who’d have thought you’d finally kiss me?” I chuckled back at him sarcastic and not once did my smile hesitate or leave my lips.

“Hey, this is 2024. You could have been the one to kiss me.” He replied with a sarcastic-serious face, cupping my right jaw.

“What can I say? I’m a sucker for old fashioned.” I returned the sarcasm and he pushed his lips back onto mine.

“I love you, Frosty,” his words pulsed through my mind on loop. I couldn’t get enough of those four words in his voice, from his mouth.

“Happy birthday” He smiled more and pulled out a small burgundy box. I looked at the box then up to him and slapped my hand onto his torso lightly with a wide smile of joy from the comment of his love. I didn’t need some sort of gift, I just wanted his love.

“Bucky, I-”

Crack. My eyes widened. Crack. My eyes looked into Bucky’s, fear overcoming. “love”. Shatter.

My body was engulfed by the cold wet. As I fell, I couldn’t even finish the four word sentence I aimed to tell him. Would this be my death? Is this how I die? I saw Bucky’s eyes start to fill with tears as I fell and when I dropped through I was smashing my hand onto the thick ice. 

I couldn’t swim.

I pounded and pounded and pounded, but nothing. Deafening silence.

I watched Bucky’s eyes drain of the passion that once resonated, now all I could see were tears. Panic. Sadness. Anger. Fear. He dropped to his knees, letting go of the burgundy box as it hit the ice beside his knee.

Time passed slowly, but I felt the life paling from me hastily. 

My hair flailed around my head, beneath the surface I was screaming but I didn’t want to show Bucky that fear. If I showed fear, he would be scared. I don’t want him to be scared. He forced his fists into the ice but it wouldn’t give. He just kept punching, his knuckles growing scarlet. 

I just smiled. One of his tears dropped onto the surface of the ice. I started to fall from the surface of the ice.

“I love you.”

Darkness.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

A/N: I hope you enjoyed! This was originally inspired by a simple prompt I got on twitter and was mucking about making a mini commentary-short-story but then morphed an idea in my mind!

Let me know your thoughts <3

Thank you for reading!

TWITTER: @/imgodbtchesmrvl

[arandompostarchive]

Inure - Ch. 1

SAVED WORK

Summary: To some, The Specter is a serial killer. To some, a hero. But to everyone, you were entirely a mystery. You had no history, just a list of victims a mile long. No matter how many people searched your name, they could find anything. If only they had the spelling right. Now, you’ve come across some unfortunate information that drives you out of your usual shadows and into the path of the Avengers. Including two of the more reclusive members of the team. And it’s hard to pick only one of them.

***

The man ran through the hall, his footsteps echoing throughout his house. He tried to navigate the dark halls, too scared to turn on lights or stop and think. He turned every so often, hoping your figure wasn’t behind him anymore. But it always was. He was panicking, you could tell. He could feel sweat stick to the inside of his white button down and the creases of the dress pants he had yet to take off.

He tried to avoid the small side tables and expensive foreign vases that lined his hall. He had managed to trip over a few tables though, knocking the glass onto his floor, shattering it. Each time he’d whisper a soft curse. There was glass beneath your shoes that probably cost millions of dollars. You found it funny. Even now, running for his life, money was still at the back of his mind.

He ran into the next room he saw, his office. A closed off space with nowhere to run. He turned around, looking at each wall. You could hear a string of curses fall from his mouth before he turned to you.

His small study still had a lamp on, the room dimly lit with the yellow-tinted light.

“Please, what do you want? Money? I can do that. Hell, I can get you your own house! I’ve got connections. I can find people for you! Other people! Please, don’t.”

Now, most people would feel bad about this. Chasing a man through his own home with certain ill intention. But you had seen his life. You’d seen what he does to people. He’d tear apart families, kidnapping people and selling any drug he could find. His hands were soaked in blood, something you could understand. But while you had killed, you picked your victims well. They were the most guilty people you could find. Murderers, kidnappers, kingpins, anyone who managed to escape justice.

Some called you a serial killer, a term that wasn’t exactly incorrect. Some thought you were a vigilante, which also wasn’t wrong. But no matter what, everyone was silently grateful for everything you did.

You always found a new target. From whispers on the street, other criminals, cops who needed a break, sometimes Nick Fury himself would send you a case file or two. You had seen it all, people with souls blacker than night. And this man was no different.

“I don’t want money, Laurence. You’ve killed innocents. You’ve let people die. You’ve heard them beg for mercy and have granted none. Why would I give you a luxury you haven’t given any of your victims?”

The man stuttered. His eyes darted around, frantically trying to find something. Maybe a weapon or just an idea of how to get out of this mess. He suddenly spoke, his voice shaking and cracking. “Because I have information! There’s this man who’s building some huge weapon. Probably wants to take New York out. He could start wars with this thing, yeah? It’ll kill millions in a heartbeat. I know what he’s got! I know what he’s doing, I’ve met the guy! I’ll tell you everything.” He spoke quickly, hoping to finish before you decided to end him. “But not if I’m dead.”

You scoffed. “Tell me, why on Earth would I accept the pleas of a dead man?” You asked. It was a real question, despite your sarcastic tone.

“I’ve got the info! He was chatting with some friends of mine, gave ‘em a whole file about it.” He reached toward the desk and pulled a file off of it, showing it to you. It read “SPECTR2” on the front in small, black script. Your eyes widened and you grabbed the file from him.

He watched as you read over it and confirmed his theory. He was right. Whoever this man was, he had the real thing.

“Alright, fine.” You said, accepting his offer.

“Oh thank god! I knew you’d be reasonable, you’re all about ‘the greater good’, yeah? I’ll tell you whatever you want, lady.” He said, relief washing over his features.

You smiled. “Yeah.” You held the file at your side. “Thing is, I know all about this project already. I don’t need you.”

The panic quickly spread across his face again and he racked his brain for something else. “C’mon, don’t I get something here?” He said, glancing at the walls to find some kind of weapon.

You sighed. “Fine. I’ll make your death quick.” You said, taking out one of your swords. He only had a minute to react before he was already dead. You had gotten used to the sight of death, though it wasn’t your favorite thing, there was something satisfying about knowing you had avenged people in some way.

His blood had already stained the carpet he had surrounding his desk and leaked along the cracks of the wooden floor. You groaned at the thought of cleaning your shoes after this and sat down at his desk chair, looking for any other info on the man starting up Project SPECTR again.

***

“So you want us to team up with some psycho killer?” Tony said, leaning back in his usual chair. The meeting room was packed, each member of the team, and some newer additions, crowded together at one table with Steve stationed at the front.

“She has information, Tony. She says lives are in danger.” Tony looked at him ridiculously.

“I’ve got my share of psycho’s on this team and now we’re working with another?” Tony gestured to Bucky and Loki’s side of the table. He got a glare from Nat and he only shrugged his shoulders in response. “Her terms are insane! She wants immunity for every crime she’s done or ever will do. That doesn’t sound insane to you? What if she’s got some master plan and we won’t be able to arrest her for it?”

Nat looked between Steve and Tony. It was obvious they weren’t getting anywhere.

“She’s got info we need. If she wanted to enact some ‘master plan’ she’d just use whatever death machine she’s got, not tell us about it. If she’s serious, we’ll hold up our end. If she’s messing with us, we won’t and we’ll lock her up on site. But if she’s really found plans for what could be the world’s next terrorist attack, we at least need to see her proof.”

Tony looked to Nat, “She’s basically holding the world hostage! Either she gets to do whatever the fuck she wants or everyone dies. We’re really letting that slide?”

This time Steve spoke, though he glared at Tony a bit for his cursing. “I didn’t say I liked it. She’s put us in a tough situation. And Nat’s right. If she’s lying in any way, we’ll lock her up. We’ve got to living lie detectors at this table.” He gestured to Loki on one side of the table and Wanda on the other. Tony only rolled his eyes, silently accepting the argument.

“Are we sure about this? I mean, if she’s telling the truth, then we’ve got some sociopath with a death ray somewhere. But what if she’s lying? She’ll be in the compound. Even if we can lock her up, what if we aren’t able to before she accomplishes whatever task she’s trying to?” Sam said as soon as the room had quieted a bit. A few team members nodded along, considering the possibility.

“We have to take that risk.” Steve said.

***

You strode into the Avengers’ compound, appreciating the space. It was larger than what you were used to. You had jumped from house to house, staying away from law enforcement. If all went well though, you wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore.

There were a few Avengers there to greet you. You had recognized them from the news and you were interested in seeing Natasha here. Among them, you saw Tony Stark. You’d recognize him a mile away. He looked different from his father, though he had the same sarcastic look on his face. You considered punching him now, maybe giving him a serious injury. But, sadly, there really were lives at stake.

Captain America stepped closer to you, holding out his hand. You took it hesitantly, the gloves of your suit meeting his hands. You appreciated the hood of your outfit now with the light reflecting off of windows and into your eyes. It was at least a little bit of protection.

“Specter. Good to meet you. I’m Captain Rogers, just call me Steve.” The other Avengers stepped to his side, making you slightly uncomfortable with how close they were. You couldn’t show it though. You had to be steeled, show no fear. Especially since you were in the lion’s den.

“This is Natasha, Tony, and Thor. We’ve got a meeting room just this way.” He got straight to business and began leading you away. You were careful to let the four Avengers go in front of you, and you were certain at least Natasha had noticed this action. Tony kept glancing back to you, slightly nervous. You could accept that. You felt nervous too, though you had gotten good at concealing your nerves, even before you had ‘died’.

You entered the room which had all of the other Avengers in it as well as five empty chairs. You were seated at the end, directly next to Natasha. Steve settled himself in the end chair right next to you. You looked at the rest of the group who were all doing a terrible job of pretending not to stare at you.

“Alright, Specter. Should we call you Specter?” You nodded, letting Steve continue. “Your conditions are questionable to say the least. We need to figure out if you’re actually telling the truth about this weapon first.”

“That’s fine,” you began, “I’d do the same.” You opened up your file, noting how there was a small camera above you, casting a picture of the file onto a board at the front of the room. You smiled at the innovation, curious about how exactly it worked. It had been a while since you’d gotten to appreciate technology, and where better than the home of a Stark.

“This is a real file. I worked on this project years ago. It was meant to help heal people. Stitch them back together, even when they were on the brink of death. But it malfunctioned. I can tell you this is real. Check any references you like, though it’ll be hard to get your hands on. We never made digital copies, this is our original paper.”

Tony squinted at the paper, seeming confused by it.

“And by we, you mean…?” Another man trailed off. You recognized him as Hawkeye, though you hadn’t memorized their actual names.

“Me and Howard Stark. We worked on it back during the war, it was like our pet project.” Tony seemed less confused now.

“That was over half a century ago. How exactly are you standing here?” You sighed at Hawkeye’s question.

“It’s a rather long and annoying story. Let’s keep it simple and say I’ve effectively scared off death.”

“Guys,” Tony said, still looking at the projection of the file. The room turned to him and you were thankful for whatever subject change he had to offer. “I’d love to say she’s full of it, but I know my father’s handwriting. That’s his signature too at the bottom.” As he pointed the small camera zoomed in. You’d have to ask him about the technology’s design later. Assuming this actually went well. You slightly cringed at the thought of speaking to a Stark again, but you’d manage for the sake of a new discovery. “Hey, Friday?”

“Yes Boss?”

You heard a woman’s voice in the room that didn’t belong to anyone present. You quickly figured out it was an AI system Stark had made.

“How well does that match Howard’s handwriting?”

There was a beat of silence before the AI, Friday, spoke again.

“It’s a perfect match.”

The team didn’t seem to know if that was good or bad.

“So there’s really someone set on ending humanity?” A man said across the table. You remembered his moniker being something bird themed, like Hawkeye’s, but it wasn’t coming to you.

“Believe me, I wouldn’t be anywhere near this place unless absolutely necessary,” You said. The Captain glanced around the table and the group seemed to silently make their decision.

“Alright. We’ll meet your terms, but understand that you must stay here through his whole process. No ‘missions’ of your own.” You thought over his offer. It was slightly tempting. Though you’d miss your little hunt for criminals, it would be nice to have a house for longer than a week.

“Fine. But you can’t bind my powers or spy on me or some bullshit.” The Captain nodded, agreeing.

Suddenly, you were a temporary Avenger.

***

“I don’t like her. She’s too calm. We’re facing a giant death machine and she’s completely stone faced.” You could overhear the conversation from where you stood outside the Avengers common area. Natasha had offered to show you around and you had denied, instead accepting a map and list of locations you’d be interested in.

They were sitting around in a circle of couches, all facing each other. Some of the members seemed distracted. Like one with long hair who was slowly stroking the spine of a book he carried in his hands and another with a striking metal arm. You had to admit, the team was certainly good-looking.

You continued to listen to the conversation, though you had lost a bit of the argument when you retreated into your thoughts.

“What can we do? I’m hardly happy about this, but she’s holding the world hostage, like you said. Millions might die if he didn’t have that info.”

“And what, we’re trusting a serial killer? She’s murdered who know’s how many people and we’re supposed to just sit here and fucking sing Kumbaya?!” Tony said. You could see his point. You wouldn’t trust you either.

“Many of us have killed.” Loki said, offering some perspective and hoping someone else would continue his point. He was still on ‘house-arrest’ and was hardly considered trustworthy. Stark wouldn’t listen no matter how silver his tongue was. But the others seemed to at least consider his words with the exception of Hawkeye who seemed upset that he even had to hear Loki’s voice.

“He’s right Stark. I’d hardly say my hands are clear, but here I am.” Natasha added, taking up Loki’s silent offer to continue his argument.

“I’m not okay with this. She’s absolutely mental. I can’t find anything on her besides media speculation. SHIELD didn’t have anything on her, despite the fact that she’s a well-known criminal and she’s got no history. No names attached, nothing. Just media speculation which is all made up. I checked.”

You took this time to walk out from the hall, the click of your shoes making the group look up. “It’s because you have the spelling wrong.” The entire team looked nervous at being caught. “Don’t feel bad. Of course you’d talk about me, I’m a stranger in your midst.” That seemed to calm some of them down, though they still looked wary of you. Stark was the first to speak.

“We’ve got the spelling wrong?” He asked.

“I’d expect so. You’re spelling my name as ‘Specter’, a ghost, like the media does. Try S-P-E-C-T-R, you’ll find a little more.” You before turning and walking out of the room. While you weren’t excited about opening up your backstory, it’d make this whole ‘trust’ thing a lot quicker. And if you were going to get anywhere, there’d need to be some sort of trust.

***

Project SPECTR - August, 1940

Howard Stark and Dr. Y/n L/n began SPECTR in August of 1940 and have been working on it for three years now.

It’s expected to help Allies win the war, though Dr. L/n believes it could— and should— be used for other purposes. There have been several malfunctions so far and I am unsure how they will continue. Stark has been promoting the idea among generals and strategists, despite the lack of finished product. Dr. L/n suspects it will not be finished by the time Stark suggests, in two weeks. She has told various generals not to expect anything in two weeks, though all generals seem to unfortunately favor Stark’s estimates. They plan to run a test run in one week and fully activate the machine. Both Stark and Dr. L/n hope it will be completely stable for at least ten minutes.

There was a messy signature at the bottom, though Steve identified it quickly as ‘Margaret Carter’.

They read through a few other files, and learned more about the original project. Reportedly, there was a severe malfunction, resulting in Dr. L/n’s death. Peggy had shut down the project immediately after, despite Howard’s begging that it would still work. There had apparently been a rift in their friendship over Dr. L/n’s death.

It also said that the Doctor’s body had disappeared in 1992, only weeks after Howard’s death, which had sparked a few conspiracy theories for those aware of her connection to Stark and Carter, two famous names. She was a leading scientist and was making seriously impressive strides. Stark was disappointed she had died so soon. He couldn’t help but wonder what she would’ve done.

“Is that Specter?” Sam asked about the Doctor working on the project. Though the team seemed unsure of the answer, Steve responded.

“It must be. Why else would she draw our attention to this. She’s got personal experience with whoever is trying to restart the project, though I’m not entirely certain why a machine to heal people will be turned into a new weapon.”

The team tossed theories back and forth and you listened in, smiling when a few of them guessed right. You slipped away soon after though, heading down the hall to the training room.

[sunriserose1023]

Another Try [5]

SUMMARY: He was supposed to return the Infinity Stones. He used them instead.  WORD COUNT: 5976 PAIRING: Steve Rogers x Female Reader WARNINGS FOR THE SERIES: Language, canon divergent, timeline delineation, explicit sexual content, canon-typical situations/injuries, more warnings will be added/removed as the series progresses

Masterlist

You had your catsuit on but hanging off your waist as you tried to fix your hair. Natasha was the best at leaving her hair down, curled or straight, not letting it hinder her in any way as she kicked serious ass. If you tried to do that, you spent most of the time pushing your hair out of your eyes, and that one time you tried to take a minute and put your hair up in a ponytail in the middle of a fight, Tony ended up with a grade II concussion. Something he still takes every chance he can to remind you about. 

You spit out a breath, letting your hands and your hair fall. You shook your head and shook out your arms, starting to go back to fixing your hair, stopping when you saw a bit of movement behind you in the mirror. You leaned to the side and Steve poked his head in the doorway. A smile spread over your face as you beckoned him into the bathroom. 

“Hey, Cap.”

He nodded, raising an eyebrow as he took in your black tank top and half-zipped suit. You rolled your eyes as you motioned towards yourself. 

“I get too hot if I put the suit on before I’m fully ready. And my hair’s not cooperating, so …”

Steve slowly nodded, leaning against the doorframe. You were distracted by his thick arms in his dark suit, and when you let your eyes drift back to meet his, you saw the smirk on his face. You felt your own face heat up and you shook your head as you turned to the mirror and began again to gather your hair into a ponytail. 

“Have you ever braided it?”

You snorted, shaking your head. 

“I can’t braid my own hair. I can kinda do someone else’s, but I don’t know how to get it started. I wish I could French braid. That would be perfect.”

Steve pushed off the wall, walking to stand behind you, looking down at your head. 

“Let me try.”

You met his eyes in the mirror.

“I’m not your guinea pig, Rogers.”

He smiled, laying his hands on your shoulders. 

“You’re not my guinea pig. You’re not the first girl I’ve done this for.” “Let me just tell you, that line? Not going to get you far.”

Steve paused, your words sinking in as he smiled, shaking his head.

“You’re the worst.”

You laughed, dropping your hands. Steve gave your shoulders a squeeze before murmuring for you to tilt your head back. You did, eyes closing as he began picking up pieces of your hair, sliding them together, twisting gently before picking up more strands. 

“Bucky’s little sister taught me how to do this. Buck was at school one day, and Becca and I were home because we both had the chickenpox. We didn’t have a television back then, and nothing fun was on the radio during the day. So Becca taught me how to braid her hair.” “And you were a natural?”

Steve snorted. 

“Hardly. My hands shook so bad you couldn’t even tell there was a braid. But Becca was so calm and patient with me, and before the week was up, I was braiding like a pro.”

You hummed softly as Steve’s nimble fingers continued to drift through your hair. You let yourself get lost in his gentle touches, the pleasure of someone playing with your hair, getting very close to dozing off. 

“There.”

You blinked sleepy eyes open, looking at yourself in the mirror, eyes widening when you tilted your head and took in Steve’s handiwork. 

“Wow.” “It’s terrible, isn’t it?”

You laughed, shaking your head, reaching back and lightly hitting his chest before turning to face him. 

“It’s perfect.”

Steve was smiling back at you when he leaned down, his lips meeting yours in a soft kiss. Your hands moved to his face, his smooth, freshly-shaven skin soft against your palms. You hummed against his mouth when his arms slid around you, pulling you closer. 

“When you two are done playing grab-ass, the jet’s ready.”

Your face was on fire when you pulled away from Steve’s kiss, the two of you turning to see Bucky with a shit-eating grin on his face. You narrowed your eyes as the former assassin began whistling as he walked away, and you lowered your forehead to Steve’s chest. He gave your shoulders a gentle rub, speaking low. 

“Come on. They’re going to give us enough grief as it is.”

You nodded, turning back to the mirror and pulling your suit into place. Steve stepped up behind you and zipped it, meeting your eyes in the mirror. 

“Soon as this mission’s done, we’re going on our date.”

Your lips curved into a smile. 

“Like the minute it’s over or am I going to have time to shower?”

Steve shook his head. 

“Never mind. I rescind my invitation.” “You can’t do that!”

He held out his hands as he backed out of the room, and you laughed as you hurried after him. The two of you ran onto the quinjet, stopping when all eyes were on you. You looked to Steve, who raised an eyebrow at the crowd of Avengers. 

“What are you all standing around for? Buckle up. Let’s get going.”

You took a break from meditating, your pre-mission routine of trying to get yourself in the right headspace. You unfolded your limbs from where you’d been sitting on the floor, looking around the jet. 

Wanda and Pietro were sitting in two of the chairs, facing each other, their knees touching. Sam and Steve were in the cockpit, while Bucky was sitting across from you, sharpening one of his many knives. Natasha, Clint, and Tony had somehow managed to sit this one out. 

Your attention went back to Bucky, to the slow, methodical way he drew his knife over the strap he was using to sharpen it. Your eyes traced his movements, the slow back and forth, somehow soothing. 

“You gonna say something or are you just going to stare?”

You smiled. 

“I’ll just stare.”

Bucky shook his head, a smile on his lips. 

“What’s on your mind, pretty eyes?”

You didn’t answer, watching as Bucky stopped sharpening his knife. He lifted it and narrowed his eyes as he studied the blade, then went back to sharpening. You thought about ignoring his question, but the man had patience galore—something you did not expect from the former Winter Soldier. You moved a bit closer to him, pitching your voice low. 

“Steve asked me out.”

Bucky stopped the movement of his knife, lifting wide grey eyes to you. 

“No shit?”

You nodded, and a smile spread over Bucky’s face. 

“That’s my boy.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile came to your lips. You lifted a shoulder and shook your head, letting out a sigh. 

“Doesn’t matter, because where are we? Not on the damn date. Jetting off to parts unknown yet again.” “It’s not ‘unknown.’ It’s South America, the Amazon rainforest.”

You groaned. 

“Oh, my favorite.”

You hung your head as Bucky laughed under his breath. You looked down at your hands, then back to Bucky, who was watching you with a smirk on his face. You smiled, shaking your head. 

“Ignore me. I’m being stupid and selfish.” “Hey, you’re allowed.”

Bucky stood up, walking over to you and sitting beside you. He tapped your knee, leaning closer to you and speaking under his breath. 

“Especially knowing how long it took ol’ Capitão to get his head out of his ass.”

You giggled, leaning to push Bucky’s shoulder with your own. He winked at you and you glanced towards the cockpit, seeing Steve staring back at you with a smirk on his face. You felt your cheeks warm, and Steve gave a quiet laugh before he turned to Sam. 

You shook your head, crossing your legs again, letting your hands rest on your knees, palms up. You inhaled, holding the breath as long as you could before exhaling, trying to clear your mind before the mission. 

“Easy. Just take it easy.”

You nodded, whimpering as you leaned against Steve, careful not to put any weight on your right foot. He slowly took a step and you tried to imitate him, gasping when pain shot up your leg. Steve shook his head, scooping you into his arms and walking towards the quinjet. 

You felt the breeze as Pietro ran past you and Steve, his sister in his arms. Wanda rolled her eyes as he set her on her feet, pushing her brother’s shoulder and murmuring in a language you didn’t understand. Bucky jogged up beside you and Steve, nodding to the twins. 

“She’s right, you know.”

Wanda grinned and Pietro rolled his eyes behind Bucky’s back, and Bucky turned to walk backwards, looking you over. 

“You okay?”

Your hand shook as you gave him a thumbs up, and he gave a sigh. 

“That was a nasty fall.” “I’ve had worse. Can’t really recall one right now, but…”

You’d taken a tumble through the floor of an old hut this particular HYDRA faction was using as their base camp. No one had realized the hut had a secret underground compartment until you’d fallen and heard a sickening crunch from your leg. You rolled your head to look at Bucky, wincing when you saw the blood on his cheek. 

“Jeez, Buck.”

He raised an eyebrow and Steve lifted a shoulder to rub at his own cheek. Bucky lifted a hand, making a face when his fingers came away bloody. 

“Gross, but it’s not mine. No big deal.” “Only us lowly mortals got hurt this go-round, huh?”

Bucky smiled, but it slid from his face when you shifted in Steve’s arms, grabbing onto the harness on his chest that held his shield. Steve stopped, and you grit your teeth as you tried to straighten out your quickly swelling leg. 

“Breathe.” “God, this hurts.” “I know. We’ll be home soon.”

You nodded, putting your face in Steve’s shoulder as he carried you into the jet. Bucky hovered close behind, sitting beside you once Steve had laid you on one of the benches in the back, taking your hand and squeezing it before he walked towards the cockpit. 

“Scale of one to ten.” “Ten. It’s a ten.” “A fuckin’ ten?”

You laughed, smacking Bucky’s chest. 

“Don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”

Bucky nodded, offering you a hand. You took it, using his strength to try and maneuver yourself into a comfortable position. After a moment, you relaxed, breathing deeply. You had your eyes closed when Bucky softly spoke. 

“If it helps, the bastard who pushed you met the business end of Steve’s shield before you landed.”

You pursed your lips. 

“You know, that kinda does help.”

Bucky gave a quiet laugh. 

“Can I do anything?”

You shook your head.

“I just really want to pass out and not be able to feel my heartbeat in my ankle.”

Bucky made a face, nodding as his metal palm pressed against yours. 

“Try and rest. We’ll be home soon.”

You nodded slowly, trying to calm your breathing, moaning softly when you felt the sickening thump of your heartbeat in your leg. Unbeknownst to you, all of the color had slid from your face, a cold sweat breaking over your forehead. Bucky whistled through his teeth, making the twins look over to him. He nodded at Wanda, mouthing to her. 

“Little help?”

Wanda nodded, standing up and gripping her brother’s shoulder for a moment. She nodded again, slowly making her way to you and Bucky, eyes already glowing red by the time she reached you. A gentle touch of her hand to your forehead and your hand went limp in Bucky’s, unconsciousness taking your pain away. Bucky nodded, then met Wanda’s eyes. 

“How’s the head?”

She held up a hand in a “so-so” gesture and Bucky nodded. He glanced down at your sleeping form, then back to Wanda. 

“Can you tell if she’s okay?” “I can try.”

The jet gently shook with a bit of turbulence, and before Bucky could make a move to Wanda, her brother was behind her, holding her steady. She smiled, lips barely moving as she murmured something only Pietro could hear. He snorted, going quiet as Wanda held a hand over your right foot, fingers causing red sparks to slowly dance as her hand hovered over your ankle, moving slightly before coming to a stop in the middle of your lower leg. 

“Her leg is broken.” “Really?”

Wanda nodded. 

“Both bones, I’m afraid.” “Shit.” “It should be elevated, at least above her heart.”

Bucky watched as Wanda created an intricate net of glowing red ropes, and he helped lift your leg until Wanda could put her makeshift orb under your foot. You gave a quiet moan in your sleep, and Bucky glanced back to see Steve watching him. Bucky motioned with his head and Steve murmured to Sam, patting his shoulder as he walked to his best friend.

Bucky laid your hand by your side and stood up, putting his hands on his hips. 

“Sit by her awhile. I’ll go bother Sam.”

Steve clicked his tongue, shrugging his shoulders as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

“I thought you two were pretty comfy back here.”

Bucky blinked, then gave a laugh. He backhanded Steve’s shoulder with his metal hand and shook his head. 

“Would you relax? We’re friends. And no offense, but she’s not my type.” “Oh, really? And what is your type?”

Bucky automatically glanced towards the cockpit of the jet, quickly glancing away as his cheeks went red. Steve’s eyes widened as his mouth fell open, and Bucky shook his head. 

“Just sit here, would you? Don’t be stupid about this.” “I just—“

Bucky didn’t wait for Steve to finish his sentence, and Steve huffed an exasperated breath as he watched the back of Bucky’s head walk away. The twins nodded to Steve, going back to their seats. He glanced at your leg, stepping forward and gently unzipping your boot, removing it from your foot as easily as he could. He studied your leg, waking to the cockpit, to the passenger seat, where Bucky was sitting. 

“Yeah, that’s why you got to … hey, punk, what the hell?”

Steve took a knife off Bucky’s belt, turning it in his hand as he walked back to you. Everyone on the jet seemed to fall silent, watching as Steve pulled the material of your suit away from your knee, slipping the knife through the material. He slid the knife down the leg of your suit, hissing when he pulled the two pieces of material aside, seeing the intense bruising and swelling of your leg. 

“Damn, Y/N.”

He looked over towards Wanda.

“Is everything okay? Other than the broken bones?”

Wanda nodded, closing her eyes and wincing, lifting a hand to the back of her head. Pietro muttered in their native language, and Wanda laid a hand on his shoulder. She blinked twice, then met Steve’s eyes. 

“Yes. Both bones in her leg are broken, slightly displaced, but not bad enough to cause further damage.”

Steve nodded and sighed. 

“Thank you, Wanda.”

She smiled, leaning back in her seat and closing her eyes. Steve bent over you, picking up your hand and holding it, exhaling slowly as he brushed his fingertips over your still-braided hair. 

Steve walked down the hallway of the medical wing, hair still slightly damp from his shower. He walked to the room Jarvis had told him you were in, lifting his hand to knock, going still when he heard the sniffle. He gentled his knock, pushing open the door before you could answer. 

He watched you quickly wipe your hands over your cheeks, unable to hide the tear tracks and red eyes. He shook his head and you blew out a breath, motioning for him to come and sit beside you. He took your hand, no words leaving his mouth, but curiosity all over his face. You sighed, staring at the hand he was holding as you spoke. 

“They took x-rays and the … both bones are broken in my leg. It’s a bad break, and they …”

You sighed again. 

“They’re going to have to do surgery. Probably put a couple of rods in my leg.” “Oh, jeez.”

You nodded, and Steve watched a muscle in your jaw tic before you spoke again. 

“And they … they said that the recov—recovery is hard, and even if everything goes perfectly, I probably won’t be able to go on missions anymore.”

You leaned back against the pillows, taking your hand from Steve’s and covering your face with both hands. You weren’t able to see the shock on Steve’s face, or the way he blinked a few times before shaking his head. He reached out and gently took your hands off your face, gently rubbing his thumbs on your wrists. 

“Hey, hey. It’s okay.” “It’s not!”

Steve smiled softly, moving to sit on the edge of your bed, keeping one hand in his lap. He looked back at your face, keeping that gentle smile on his own. 

“You don’t have to go on missions to be a good agent.” “I know. But I like going on missions. I’m good at it. Well, I thought I was.” “Hey, one injury doesn’t mean you’re a bad agent.”

You shook your head. 

“It’s not fair.”

Steve sighed, shaking his head. 

“No, it isn’t.”

He met your eyes, saw the tears sparkling. You shook your head and sniffled. 

“I’m sorry, I … I think I just want to be alone for a while.”

Steve slowly nodded, picking up your hand and bringing it to his lips. You pushed a smile onto your face, and he nodded again as he walked to the door. It wasn’t until the door shut behind him that you broke, picking up a pillow and putting it over your face to muffle the sobs. 

Sobs he heard anyway. 

Steve walked back to his room, passing Natasha on the way to see you, not speaking or acknowledging her presence. She narrowed her eyes as she watched him press the button, then step into the elevator. 

“JARVIS?” “Yes, Miss Romanoff.” “Where is the captain going?” “To his room, ma’am. Shall I ask him to wait for you?”

Natasha thought for a moment, then shook her head. 

“No, thank you.”

She stared at the elevator for a moment, then shook her head as she walked down the hall to your room in the medical wing.

Steve stepped into his apartment, shutting and locking the door behind him. He pushed both hands through his hair, exhaling sharply.

“This isn’t supposed to happen.”

He looked around the room, bare of anything personal, as warm and inviting as a prison cell. He walked into his bedroom, eyes taking in the crisply made bed, the masculine furniture, the fake plant on the windowsill. He shut his eyes, shaking his head. He walked to the spacious closet and shut the door behind him, pushing things aside until he found the briefcase. He knelt down and opened it, studying the Infinity Stones staring back at him. 

He could use the aether, turn Y/N’s broken leg into an illusion. But … that could end up being more harmful. 

He could use the Time Stone and go back to just before that bastard pushed her and take him out. Or he could make sure she wasn’t near that bit of rotten flooring. Or he could go back even further and convince her not to go on the mission. Have Natasha take her place instead. 

But what could happen to Natasha if he did that?

Steve stared at the Stones, finally closing his eyes and hanging his head. He closed the briefcase without looking at it, giving a long exhale before returning it to its hiding place. He moved to sit with his back against the wall, knees drawn up, arms resting on his knees. 

He knew he’d caused some damage by not returning the Stones and using them instead. He knew how easy it would be to use them again and again, for his own selfish reasons, but that makes him no better than Thanos. But hadn’t he earned some selfish?

Hadn’t you? 

Steve let his head fall back, staring at the waning light creeping in through the slats in the door. You’d never broken your leg in his timeline. You’d gotten hurt on missions, of course—everyone had—but nothing to this extent. Nothing that could permanently take you out of the game. No, this injury was brand new. 

Steve got an itch at the back of his neck when he thought about that. 

He shook his head, pushing to his feet. No, this time would be different. He glanced towards where the briefcase was hidden. This time, you’d be fine.

One way or another. 

Steve couldn’t sleep worth a damn, so he finally gave up, got out of bed and ran ten miles. He showered and decided to grab a cup of coffee before he went to the medical wing, hoping to see you before they took you back for surgery. 

Imagine his surprise when he walked into the kitchen and saw you standing at the counter, a mug in your hands. 

“Y/N?”

You turned to face him, a bright smile on your face. The shorts you were wearing showed off your legs, neither of which were swollen or bruised in any way. Steve shook his head and your smile widened. 

“Morning, Captain.”

Steve shook his head, eyes going from your leg to your face. 

“How?”

You shrugged your shoulders, setting the mug on the counter. 

“I felt better this morning, and I could move without any pain. They redid the x-rays and there is no evidence of a break. I’m fine.”

Steve crossed the kitchen in a flash, taking you in his arms. You laughed, lacing your arms around him, closing your eyes as the warmth of his body bled into yours. As you leaned into his thick chest, Steve spoke softly. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay.” “Me, too.” “I just … how?”

You shook your head, sighing softly, stepping back from Steve. 

“I don’t know for sure.” “But you have your suspicions?”

You smiled and nodded, looking down at your hands. You opened your mouth, closing it again when Natasha and Clint walked into the kitchen, stopping abruptly and eyes widening when they saw you. Clint shook his head and you smiled, lifting a shoulder. 

“I’m okay.”

Natasha shook her head as she stepped forward. 

“How? I saw your xrays. There’s no way—“ “Must have been a miracle.”

Natasha’s eyes widened and Clint huffed out a breath, tossing his head to the side and whining as he walked to the coffee pot. He took the whole pot and carried it to the table, wrapping his arms around it, pulling a straw from the jar on the table and putting it into the pot. You shook your head, laying a hand on Steve’s arm as you stepped around him to gather the ingredients to make a new pot of coffee in the second coffeemaker. 

Steve was quiet as he watched Natasha sit beside Clint, pulling her feet up, wiggling her toes as she pushed them under his leg until he sat on them. Clint grunted and took a sip of coffee through his straw, hovering protectively over the pot, cradling it as Bucky and Sam made their ways into the room, both of them sweating. Bucky’s hair was pulled up into a messy bun, and he nodded when you held up a finger at him, then pointed to the coffee pot. Sam went for the refrigerator, taking out the carton of orange juice.

“Use a glass, Wilson.”

Sam glanced over his shoulder and glared at you, but he relented when you cocked an eyebrow at him. He took the glass Bucky offered him from the cabinet, pouring the juice into his glass, then going still before shaking his head. 

“Wait just a damn minute.”

Bucky glanced at Sam, then blinked wide eyes as he turned to you. 

“Whoa. You’re …” “Fine.”

Bucky shook his head, kneeling down before you, making you jump when cool metal fingers brushed over your shin. 

“How? This thing was twice the size and so purple it was almost black yesterday.”

You lifted your toes to his metal shoulder and pushed, barely moving him off-balance. 

“Must have been a miracle.”

Sam cursed under his breath and Bucky stood to his feet, sighing and shaking his head. Steve shook his head, looking from Sam to Bucky, then over to where Natasha had a knowing smile on her face. 

“I don’t know what’s happening.” “Par for the course, right, Capsicle?”

Tony’s brows furrowed when he looked from Steve to you, shaking his head as he pointed to your leg. 

“What’s going on?” “Little miraculous healing before breakfast.”

Tony groaned, pushing Sam aside as he went for the coffee pot, grumbling under his breath. 

“It’s too early for this shit.”

Tony poured himself some coffee, throwing it back like a shot. He poured some more, returning the pot to the base, gasping and bobbling the mug when he saw the snake coiled up on the counter. Steve instinctively stepped in front of you, and you giggled as you laid a hand against his back, going on your tiptoes to peek over his shoulder. Tony set the mug on the counter, moving to run cool water over the back of his hand, which was covered in coffee and slightly burnt. 

“Goddamn it. You son of a bitch.”

Steve’s eyes widened as a golden light shone, the snake transforming into a man sitting on the edge of the counter. 

“Such language at such an early hour, Anthony.” “You made me spill my coffee, you bastard.”

Steve’s eyes were wide, heartbeat thundering in his ears as he stared at the man. The noises in the room faded as he looked back to the table, where Natasha and Clint sat, Clint with his head bowed, straw of coffee still in his mouth, Natasha with a small smile on her lips as she scrolled through news apps on her phone. Sam and Bucky were talking low on the other side of the room, and Tony was muttering under his breath as he turned off the faucet and dried his hands. You stepped from behind Steve, hand sliding along his shoulder as you made your way to stand in front of the … god on the kitchen counter. 

“I suppose some thanks are in order?” “Whatever could you be referring to, my love?”

Your cheeks went pink, eyes rolling as you gently shook your head. He leaned in towards you, inky black hair gleaming even in the industrial lighting. 

“You know I could never bear to see you hurt.”

You smiled, glancing back at Steve, the smile sliding from your face when you saw the twitch in his jaw, the hard set to his eyes. 

“Steve?”

Tony, Sam, Bucky, Natasha, and Clint all looked your way when they heard the slight tremble in your voice, scrambling into action when Steve quickly crossed the room, grabbing the man by the lapels of his coat, yanking him up and pressing him against the wall. 

“What the hell are you doing here?!”

Shouts echoed around the room, words Steve couldn’t hear and didn’t bother trying to understand in his haze of rage. The man winced when Steve moved a thick forearm to press against his throat, green eyes meeting Steve’s own, a flash of surprise accompanying one dark eyebrow raising. 

“Well. My, my.”

Steve narrowed his eyes as the man coughed, wincing at the increase of pressure on his windpipe. Steve went to open his mouth, falling silent when your sweet voice broke through. 

“Please, Steve, come on. Look at me. Steve.”

He did, turning his head just slightly to meet your wide, frightened eyes. You nodded, doing your best to keep your voice level. 

“It’s okay. Everything’s okay, Steve. Just let him go.”

Steve gave a shake of his head. 

“This is Loki.” “I know.”

You shook your head, one trembling hand moving to rest against his shoulder. 

“Loki wouldn’t hurt us.”

Bucky made a disagreeing noise, clamping his mouth shut when you shot a glare his way. You looked back to see Steve staring at you, and you shook your head again, moving your hand up a bit to let your pinky finger brush against Steve’s cheek. He gave a small shake of his head, voice barely a whisper. 

“He’s … evil.” “No, honey. No. He’s just … mischievous.”

Steve shook his head again, and you moved both hands to touch him. 

“It’s okay, Steve. Just let him go. I promise you, he’s not going to do anything to hurt us.”

Steve slid his eyes back to Loki, who nodded. 

“She’s right. If I wanted to hurt you, you’d be bleeding … Captain.”

Steve felt his lips trying to curl into a snarl, but he slowly relaxed, dropping his hands from Loki, dropping him to the ground. Loki stumbled a bit, straightening his cloak and glancing back at Steve, a knowing, yet curious look in his eyes. Steve looked to you, taking your hand and pulling you close, putting his face in your hair. You closed your eyes, wrapping your arms around him, motioning for the others to leave. They did, and when it was just the two of you in the kitchen, you moved a hand to gently scratch at Steve’s scalp. 

“Can we talk?”

Steve tightened his grip on your waist for just a moment, giving a long exhale as he stepped back from you. He turned his back to you, placing his hands on the counter and hanging his head. You licked your lips, taking in a breath and letting it out slowly as you spoke. 

“What was that?”

Steve shook his head, lifting it to glance out the window, throat working as he swallowed. 

“Loki’s the one who healed you?”

When you didn’t answer, Steve turned his head, looking over his shoulder and meeting your clearly worried eyes. You nodded, and Steve shook his head, looking back out the window. 

“And what do we have to give him in return?” “What? No. We don’t … Steve.”

He couldn’t look at you, and you licked your lips before speaking again. 

“What happened to you?”

He didn’t answer, so you went on. 

“You’re … not acting like yourself. It’s almost like you have no idea what’s going on here.” “So fill me in.”

You shook your head, stepping closer to him, then taking a step backwards. 

“Will you look at me?”

He hung his head, closing his eyes. He finally turned around, leaning against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest and meeting your eyes. You shook your head again, fighting the urge to go to him. 

“What is going on with you?”

Steve shook his head and you blew out a breath. 

“Don’t … don’t lie to me. You’re not the same Steve we left here last week. What happened?”

It took him by surprise, the fact that he actually wanted to tell you. But how could he?

“I’m actually from eight years in the future. The Avengers broke up, only getting back together when it was a last resort. Then we lost. We lost so badly that half the population just disappeared. Not that it bothered you any, because you’ve been dead for years in my time.”

Steve glanced over his shoulder, back out the window. He knew he couldn’t tell you the truth, but how could he lie to you? He uncrossed his arms, letting one fall by his side, using the other hand to rub his chin. 

“Something did happen. I just … I’m not sure what.” “What do you mean?”

Steve shook his head, turning to face the window again, putting both hands on the counter.

“It’s like … like I’ve lived this before, but … differently.” “Different how?”

Steve swallowed. 

“Loki was a bad guy. Pietro died soon after we met him. Bucky was a master assassin, and you and I never touched.”

You blinked, giving a sharp exhale. Steve shook his head, looking over his shoulder at you. 

“It’s hard to tell what’s real. What’s an actual memory and what’s not. I’m sorry.” “Don’t apologize. Steve.”

He turned his head to look at you, seeing the worry on your face. You went to him, one hand moving to his cheek. He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch. You shook your head, just staring at him. 

“I can’t imagine that. Not being able to remember, or not sure what to remember. Oh, honey.”

You wrapped your arms around him and Steve melted into your touch. His hands came up to press against your back, holding you close as one of your hands drifted up to stroke his hair. After a few moments of silence, Steve spoke again. 

“You’re sure Loki’s on our side?”

You smiled. 

“I’m sure. He’s crafty, but he’s one of us. Well, as much ‘one of us’ as a god can be.” “Okay.” “I mean … we never would have beaten Fury without Loki’s help. He saved our lives.”

Steve’s eyes flew open. He gently pushed you back, keeping his hands on your shoulders as he studied your face. 

“Fury?”

You nodded. 

“Undercover HYDRA agent? Brought the aliens down on us in the Battle of New York? If it wasn’t for Loki, we would have been toast.”

Steve just stared at you, barely even blinking. You gave a shaky exhale, letting your hand fall to his shoulder. 

“I’ll get you the files, let you refresh your memory.”

Steve slowly nodded. You smiled as you let your hand slide from his shoulder to his back. 

“Loki just likes to play tricks. He’s the god of mischief, after all. But he’d never hurt us.” “Are you sure? The stories of what he did to Thor alone, I just …”

You furrowed your eyebrows. 

“Who?”

Steve met your eyes, saw the confusion in them. 

“Thor.”

You shook your head. 

“Who is that?”

Steve felt his heart stutter in his chest. He blinked, speaking again. 

“Thor. The god of Thunder. Loki’s brother.”

You pursed your lips, shaking your head again. 

“Loki doesn’t have a brother. He’s spoken some about a sister, but I don’t know if she’s actually alive or just a scary story they told to keep him in line.” “Are you sure?”

You shrugged your shoulders. 

“We could always just ask him. But I … I think he would have told us about a brother by now.”

Steve swallowed hard, slowly nodding his head. You moved a hand to cup his cheek, feeling your heart thud in your chest when he turned his face to your touch, closing his eyes. 

“Let me get you some water, okay?”

Steve nodded, pressing his lips to your palm until you’d stepped too far away. He stared straight ahead, mind churning, heart racing with the realizations that were suddenly hitting him, the consequences of what he’d done only beginning to scratch the surface.  

Pietro was still alive.  Bucky was thriving.  Thor didn’t exist here.  Fury did, but as the complete opposite of what Steve had known. 

Steve took the water bottle from your hand, smiling back at the soft smile you gave him. He set the bottle on the table and took your hand, tugging you close. You had that same soft smile on your face when he lifted a hand to your cheek, caressing gently as he pressed his lips to yours. 

It was worth it. 

You were worth it. 

TAGS:  @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​, @chonkychornes​, @sarcasm-myfriend​, @patzammit​, @beardburnsupersoldiers, @sallyp-53, @moodymcu, @angrybirdcr, @bellaireland1981, @brittanymcsharry, @free-2bmee, @laneygthememequeen, @iwritesmutsandfluff, @captain-rogers-beard, @geeksareunique, @alexxcorona113, @iluvsumbucky, @readermia, @buckmecaptain, @jennmurawski13, @emmandhercoffecrisp, @geekysimmerthings, @deidrashouseofpain, @idjitmonkey, @peaceinourtime82, @fallenoutofrose, @anika-ann, @superavengerpotterstar, @nerdgirljen, @thefanficfaerie, @adaliamalfoy, @rinthehufflepuff, @fallenoutofrose​, @scentedsongrebel​, @badassbaker, @iluvsumbucky​, @donutloverxo​

[leahxx129]

Truth or Cut (Dean Winchester x Reader x Sam Winchester)

Hello there! This my * very VERY * late submission to @dontshootmespence​ ‘s   Alphabet Angst for 8k Challenge. I am incredibly sorry for this delay but I had to take a break away from Tumblr and social media in general in order to focus on my mental/physical health & other issues in my private life. Now I think I’m ready to return and create content again. As for the story, I hope you like it. This is my first attempt at a love triangle. Important: does not include Wincest so it’s safe to read for anyone who’s not into that. Also, I inserted a ‘Keep reading’ line, I hope it’s visible.

Summary: The British Men of Letters try a new approach to acquire the Winchesters’ cooperation, which leads to heartbreaking revelations. 

Warnings: cursing, bloodshed, mentions of sex, character death

Word count: 2.750-ish

* Moodboard is mine, pictures used are not.

You gain consciousness to two male voices calling your name frantically.

“She’s opening her eyes, Sam! She’s alright… Look!” the hoarse baritone belonging to the elder Winchester reassures his brother a second after your eyelashes have started fluttering.

“Well, that’s the overstatement of the year, Dean… Let’s just say I’ll live.” you grumble once you fully come around. “What the hell?!”

Usually you’re more eloquent than that but at the moment it’s the best you can muster, considering that you’ve awakened in what appears to be an abandoned warehouse and all three of you are handcuffed to uncomfortable metal chairs organized in a neat triangle, facing each other. The only source of light are a few flickering candles placed on a table nearby.

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out, babe.” your long-term boyfriend Sam replies in a soothing tone.

His handsome face seems intact – minus a couple of scars he obtained in previous fights – so being ambushed is crossed off the list of possible explanations on what happened and how you got here. Maybe you were drugged? If yes… by whom? The things that go bump in the night prey upon their enemies and slash their throats open, not abduct them.

A heavy silence falls on the place, only the crackle of the candle flames can be heard.

You have no idea how much time has passed – it could’ve been an eternity as well as ten minutes – when suddenly a consecutive knocking sound fills your auditory canals.

“Are those… are those high heels?” you ask aloud incredulously.

“Louboutin’s to be exact, my dear.”

Every head snaps to the accent’s direction just in time to see an elegantly dressed slender woman step into the candle-lit area.

“But excuse my manners… talking about fashion before introducing myself? How rude of me. I’m Lady Toni Bevell on behalf of the British Men of Letters.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Dean growls “You know, here in America no means no, Lady! We’ve already told your stupid little boyband to fuck off. We’re not here to do their bidding, we’re here to save lives.”

“So I’ve heard.” She nods in understanding. “But yet, we’d still like to gather some information, one way or another.”

She walks over to the table and unfolds a neatly wrapped package, revealing a knife. Suddenly, Sam’s sarcastic chuckle fills the place.

“And you think you can get us to spill by torturing? Seriously?”

A predatory smile spreads across Toni’s face as she casually picks up the weapon of her choice.

“I was thinking about playing a game that may involve torture. It’s up to you whether it does or does not.”

“What game?” you ask suspiciously.

“I’d like to call it Truth or Cut. Maybe Truth or Stab, depending on the importance of the information you intend to withhold. The rules are the following… I ask something and if you reply, that equals truth, and nothing will happen. If you do not wish to answer, just say cut and I’ll sink my knife into your flesh.”

“You’re crazy!” Sam exhales in disbelief.

“Thank you, Sam! I’m going to take that as a compliment. And since we are already engaged in a conversation, let’s start with you.” She walks to the center of the triangle to face the younger Winchester. “I’d like you to give me the names of American hunters you consider the best.”

Sam leans a bit forward, his face is unreadable.

“Bite me!” he hisses through gritted teeth. “I’m not gonna participate in your psychotic game. You can’t make me.”

Toni flashes a dangerous smile once more.

“Are you sure about that?”

She slowly walks behind your chair and places the blade under your right collar bone.

“If you refuse to pick either truth or cut, your loved ones will pay the price for it, big guy.”

Sam’s eyes search yours for confirmation of the next step and you nod.

“You’re bluffing.” He counters Toni.

The next second you feel the metal pressed against you slash into soft skin and you can’t suppress a loud grunt of pain. Blood starts oozing from the wound and your white tank top soon begins to acquire a shade of crimson.

The brothers yell ‘No!’ in unison, then Dean delivers an impressive selection of curse words – sneaking in some that were new even to you.

Toni strolls over to Sam.

“Now I ask again. Name the best American hunters you know.”

“Cut.” Sam responds in a tone just above whisper. He soundlessly flinches when the woman draws blood by sliding the blade across his left forearm.

“Alright… Who wants to be next? Perhaps Dean? List all the places where we can find extensive knowledge on the supernatural, not counting the Man of Letters safe houses of course.”

Dean’s gaze meets Toni’s and for a second you think you can see her confidence falter because of the deadly rage and utter disdain that radiates from the hunter, but she soon regains composure.

“So? Is it truth or cut, Dean? You know what will happen if you refuse to choose.”  

“Cut!” he emphasizes the t at the end.

You’re next and you pick cut as well. Then the cycle starts all over again...

You’ve made three rounds without anyone breaking and giving Toni what she wants, which visibly annoys her.

“Let’s shake things up a bit by changing the topics, shall we?” she announces out of the blue, making all of you knit your brows.

Spinning around on her heels, she turns to Sam.

“Sam! Did you manage to decide where you want to propose to Y/N? In my personal opinion the place where you said your first I love you-s is more romantic than the place where you first met, but that’s just plain old me.”

Sam’s eyes widen in shock, reflecting your own facial expression.

“Sam? What is she talking about?” you question in a thin voice, perplexed.

A shy, boyish smile appears on his face as he looks deep into your eyes, reminding you of the very first time you’ve seen him.

“Uh, yeah. She’s right. Although I have no idea how she knows this, but I did indeed plan on proposing to you at one of those places, probably where we met… up until now. Now I have to come up with something else I guess.”

A mixture of emotions floods your heart, making you undecisive what to say first. You finally open your mouth to speak but before a sound can escape, Toni directs the next question to Dean.

“Alright, that was a truth, so no cuts. Now, Dean! I am certain she will not get offended so you can tell me honestly… Is Y/N a good kisser?”

“How would I know?” he asks back, lacking any hesitation. “I think you’re mistaking me with Sam, her boyfriend. You know, the tall guy whose proposal you’ve just ruined? Next time you play this game with someone, have your facts checked first, Suit pants.”

The confusion on Sam’s face slowly starts to fade away, but Toni presses on relentlessly.

“Oh, Dean... That was a very convincing performance! But, unfortunately for you, I did have my facts checked. And according to these facts, you and Y/N locked lips passionately just two years ago, in 2015. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

Everybody’s eyes are on you waiting for your reaction, and you can’t help but reminisce about the event in question.

You were having a hard time finding the key for the motel room you were renting - courtesy of the bottle of bourbon you’d consumed earlier. All those keys on the chain looked the same and neither of them seemed to fit into the lock, let alone open the damn door… In addition to that, the world slowly started spinning and you had to prop yourself against the doorframe to prevent an ugly fall.

“Need a hand there, Sweetheart?”

Your heart skipped a beat from the scare but soon calmness washed over you as you identified the person. You could recognize that husky voice anywhere, intoxicated or not.

“Dean Winchester!” you exclaimed, turning around to find him leaning against your car you’d parked near the doorway. “The world’s deadliest hunter and mightiest panty dropper turned hell’s cruelest demon! To what do I owe this pleasure? Considering that you’ve gone out of your way to ignore both me and Sam in the past couple of months.”

He leisurely pushed himself from the car and started walking towards you.

“I needed a breath of fresh air, that’s all. But speaking of whom… where’s Sam?”

He almost left no distance between your bodies when he finally stopped. What was he doing? If he wanted to kill you, he probably would’ve done it already…

“I don’t know. Why don’t you give him a call, huh? Ask him how he’s doing? You could make him the happiest man alive…” you replied with a bitter undertone.

A shit-eating grin formed on Dean’s handsome face.

“Uh-oh. Is there trouble in paradise?”

“Shut it, Dean! It’s really none of your business.” You said, crossing your arms and averting your gaze.

His comment hit a nerve – you both knew that – but the last thing on Earth you wanted to do was discussing your relationship crisis with him. If you still had a relationship, that is.

To much of your surprise, the next second he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him and pressed his lips against yours. It felt terribly wrong but incredibly right at the same time… It took you half a minute to gather all your willpower and push him away.

“Y/N? Is it true?” Sam’s voice brings you back to reality.

Tears start dwelling up in your eyes, providing a wordless answer. He swallows hard.

“Why?”

“It’s all my fault, okay?” Dean speaks up as you’re clearly unable to form a coherent sentence. “I kissed her, man. It happened when I was a demon… I figured if I kissed her, I’d piss you off enough to leave me alone. Besides, she was totally hammered and still pushed me away.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better, Dean?!”

“I don’t know… a little, maybe?”

Sam scoffs then all of a sudden realization hits him.

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“What?”

“Is my girlfriend a good kisser?”

Both you and Dean stare at him in shock.

“C’mon man, you can’t seriously want me to answer that…” Dean attempts to change the subject but doesn’t succeed. Sam’s stare makes it obvious he won’t let this one slide. He won’t let go until he hears the truth no matter how unpleasant it may be.

“Yes.” Dean blurts out. “She’s a good kisser. In fact, she’s one of the best kissers I’ve ever encountered in my entire life. Happy now?”

The only response is a nod.

“Oh wow…” Toni lets out an excited sigh. “Changing the topic was the best idea ever, don’t you agree? Now, let’s move on to Y/N. She’ll get the most interesting question in my repertoire.”

She slowly walks over to you, her Louboutin’s menacingly tap against the concrete every step of the way. She crouches down, tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and asks the most ruthless question in the sweetest voice.

“Which one of the Winchester brothers is better in bed?”

The tears you’ve been holding back for quite some time now break free and roll down your cheeks swiftly.

“I mean, it’s not entirely true what Dean said, now is it? You did push him away but then you pulled him back...”

Complete silence ensues and you swear you can hear three hearts break if you listen closely.

You were standing there more confused than ever. What the hell was Dean doing?! Was this a long time coming or was he playing some sort of a game? Either way… If you were sober, you most certainly would’ve punched him in the mouth. But due to your condition – or at least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself ever since – you pulled him back and kissed him there instead. The part of how you got inside the room was a blur, but soon enough you found yourself tangled up with him in the sheets. Torn clothes peppered the floor, a smell of bourbon lingered in the air and Dean treated you as if you were the single, most important person in the entire universe. You truly thought you’d never been happier – then came the morning and shattered everything to a thousand pieces.

“You know, to encourage picking truth regarding this question, I am going to tell you something you yourself may not even be aware of, Y/N.” Toni breaks the silence. “There is something else that’s not true in what Dean said. He did not spend that night with you just to piss Sam off… He’s been attracted to you ever since you’ve met and being a demon allowed him to shamelessly do something about it.”

You whisper ‘Cut’ as a reply and Toni’s face hardens.

“Oh, honey… withholding this information is worth a stab.”

Before you can comprehend her words, she swings the knife and it ends up in your right thigh. You don’t think you’ve ever seen this much blood come from a stab wound… Both Winchester men yell in protest, but their voices become distant as you slowly slip into unconsciousness.

Mary and Castiel tracked down your location and arrived just in time. You almost bled to death, but the angel managed to heal the wound. For a while you wished he didn’t.

Three weeks later you’re sitting in your car at an abandoned gas station. About fifteen minutes after your arrival, a black SUV parks near you. You limp to the vehicle and tear its door open, barely containing your fury.

“What the fuck was that, Toni?!” you question while getting in and pointing a gun at her.

She glances at the weapon then looks you in the eye.

“Is that necessary?”

You cock the gun in response.

“Alright. So, as you know, the management decided that you delivering information to us about the Winchesters is not enough anymore.”

“Yes, that’s why you’ve contacted them directly, I know.”

“Correct. But since they refused to cooperate, the management came up with a plan of disrupting their unity. This way it’s just a matter of time and one of them will be knocking on our door. I suspect it will be Sam.”

A bitter laugh escapes you lips.

“So that’s what this was? A disruption of unity? Really?! And why didn’t I know of this, huh?”

“We needed your reactions to be genuine.”

“God, you’re a bunch of psychopaths… You know what, I’m not gonna do this anymore. I quit.”

She lets out a loud scoff.

“Please… what are you going to tell them? Furthermore, how do you think they will react when they learn that the love of their lives is a snitch?”

You let your gun down.

“I’ll make sure they know why I became a snitch... I’ll make sure they know how I made a crossroad’s deal years ago to save them both. I’ll make sure they know how you offered to delay the hellhounds in exchange for some information every now and then. I have no idea how they’ll react, but maybe someday they’ll understand and find it in their hearts to forgive me.”

Toni stares daggers at you.

“I suggest you think this through carefully, Y/N, as we still hold your deal. One bad move and the hellhounds will come and get you. No more delaying.”

You flash her the biggest smile you can summon.

“Well, it’s been a while since the last time I played with puppies from the pit… I think I’m ready.”

Not waiting for her reaction, you get out of the car and start limping back to yours. By the time you get in, Toni is gone.

You’re all alone.

Well, not entirely alone to be fair.

The grumbling hellhounds in your backseat keep you company.

You take your phone out of your pocket avoiding any sudden movements and type a quick message to the Winchesters:

‘My nightstand, second drawer.’

Toni thought she could prevent you from exposing the truth by taking action quickly, but she wasn’t paying attention. You never said you were gonna tell them everything. You said you would make sure they know. And the detailed farewell letters you left for them in your drawer will serve the purpose well.

[onegayastronaut]

A New Beginning (Rosalie Cullen x Reader)

Requested by anon: Would you be okay with writing an imagine for Twilight/Harry Potter, where the reader's a Muggleborn Witch who moves to Forks to try and escape Death Eaters during the war and is found to be Rosalie's mate?

Word count: 2701

After the initial fight with Voldemort, the group that you were with decided that it would be best to spread out and go into hiding. There were heavy casualties on both sides, but the fact remained that there were far more Death Eaters than you could handle. It would be wise to live to fight another day than to die right then and there. All of you got the same magical brand on your arm so you could signal each other if you wanted to gather together as a group. However, now all of you had to Dissaparate as quickly as possible before the Death Eaters found your group.

After leaving, you decided that moving to the United States would be the wisest way to go. Europe was crawling with Death Eaters, with the number joining their ranks growing by the day. You reasoned that it would be smarter to live and fight another day than to die without leaving anyone else to continue the fight. After promising to keep in touch with what few members of the Order were left, you apparated to the state of Washington with a suitcase of money. Even though it would have been smarter to go to a large city where you could easily get lost in the crowd, the fact of the matter was that there was a bigger chance that Voldemort’s poison might have found its way to the larger cities in the US. At least here in the small city of Forks, you were sure there weren’t any Death Eaters who would bother to stop here. Sure, being the latest stranger in town meant that you’d get your fair share of stares from the locals, but getting stared at was better than having anyone trying to kill you.

As soon as you landed in Forks, you noticed that the weather was almost as gloomy as winter weather in England. You rummaged in your pocket and managed to find a few American bills in your pocket. You also found a few pounds and Galleons which you could not use now you were in the United States and headed towards the closest restaurant you could find.

To say that Americans liked to stare was an understatement. It seemed as if everyone at Forks came here during the breakfast rush, and you could feel all eyes glued to you as you stepped in. Everything about you seemed to be different – from your overcoat to your polished leather shoes. You cleared your throat awkwardly as you sat down in the seat closest to the door. After a moment of awkward silence, everyone shifted back to their regular conversations.

“How can I help you, dear?” A nice looking lady came over with a coffee pot in her hand.

“I wanted to know if you had any lodging here for newcomers. I’d also like some coffee.”

“Of course, dear. We have a motel for people who are new here, and I’m sure there are residents here who are willing to share or rent their houses to new people like yourself.”

“That would be great. Could you point me in the direction of the motel?” The lady pointed down the street, and you could manage to see the faint sign of what seemed to be the only motel in town. The waitress had already given you your coffee, and you stood up to go.

America was almost like England, but everything seemed more…plain for some reason. You sighed and continued walking. England will always be home, but you couldn’t think of that now. All that could be done was to regroup and hope that one day you would be able to go back home. As you focused your attention back on the street, you noticed two people standing in front of you, though it seemed strange to call them people. It was a man and woman, with the woman having a girlish quality to her while the man looked like he was sizing you up as you walked toward them. There was something different about the way they looked: there was the beautiful, graceful way they stood there with their golden eyes watching you. Even though it was very cold outside, they seemed to be dressed in very light clothing.

“Hey guys, I’m looking for the motel here.”

“Look, Jasper, this is the lady that I saw in my vision. Even her voice is how I imagined it.” The shorter woman looked excited to see you.

“We can’t trust her. She’s new here to Forks. If we interact with her now, it might expose us to the surrounding neighborhood, and we can’t have that. We’ve always been very careful about who we let in, there’s no reason to change that now. We must talk to Carlisle about her before we bring her along with us.”

“Look, I have no idea who or what you’re talking about. I’m just here for the motel, not to bother anyone.” You reached under your coat and gripped your wand. Has Voldemort already reached the United States? It seemed improbable that his reach could have reached across the pond so quickly, but you couldn’t be too careful.

“You can take your hand out from your pocket you know.” The short lady skipped over to you and put her arm over your shoulders. “My name is Alice, and this is my mate, Jasper. We live here in Forks, and we are –”

“Alice, no.” Jasper’s jaw clenched, and he seemed upset at whatever Alice was about to say.

“You are what?” At this point, you couldn’t tell if they were both crazy or if there was something else going on in this little town you picked.

“We’re vampires. I had a vision of you joining us in the very near future, which is why I was waiting for you here. I just dragged Jasper along with me today because I got bored standing here all by myself.” Alice talked very fast, and after she was done it seemed as if she had lifted a weight off from her back.

After a period of silence, you let out a bark of laughter and started heading off towards the motel. “You really expect me to believe all of that? There’s no such thing as vampires. You’re out of your mind, lady.”

“One can also argue that there’s no such thing as wizards or witches either.” Alice’s statement stopped you in your tracks, and you spun around.

“What do you know about that?”

“Not much until I had my vision about you. It all made sense afterward, since I suspect you kept your presence a secret for many of the same reasons as we allowed humans to think that vampires and werewolves are just myths.”

“Do you mean to tell me that there are werewolves here too?”

“There’s a pack of them just on the outskirts of town.” Jasper finally spoke, and he moved to stand next to Alice. “We have an understanding with them. They don’t come into our territory, and we stay out of theirs.”

“How do I know you’re telling me the truth?”

“Try a spell on me.” Alice moved to the center of the sidewalk and looked at you. “Don’t worry, no one is coming by for the next three and a half minutes.”

You looked around to confirm that the street was empty and took out your wand. After a second of hesitation, you raised and prepared to stun her. “Stupefy!” You saw the spell hit Alice, but it didn’t seem to have any effect on her. This was like nothing you had experienced before, and you tried again. The spell hit Alice square in the chest but she didn’t even flinch.

“Okay, my turn.” You didn’t even see Alice move but in less than a second, she had snatched your wand from your hand and returned to her original place. “What was the spell again? Stupefy?” The wand let out the spell and knocked out a power line. Alice hurriedly returned the wand to you, and you returned the wand back into your pocket. “So, do you believe us now?”

“I do, but that doesn’t give me a reason to trust you.”

“You’re running from something. You’re scared and don’t know who to trust.” Jasper tilted his head and looked away from you. “I believe Alice and I know exactly how that feels. Our family knows what it means to live under the radar and not be noticed.”

“How do you know about that?”

“Let’s just say that knowing how people feel is my specialty.”

“How about you come with us and see how things go? If you don’t like it with us, you’re free to leave.

The house that the Cullens lived in was surprisingly modern considering the fact that Forks was not a modern town. Literally having all the time in the world meant that there were no limitations when it came to earning money.

When you walked through the door, the first person to welcome you was a motherly looking woman. “(Y/N), we are so happy to meet you. I’m Esme.”

“Not to be rude, but how do you know my name?”

“Alice has told us that there would be someone new joining us soon. She didn’t tell us much of anything else about you.”

A man with golden hair came up behind Esme. “My name is Carlisle, and this is my family. Welcome to our home.” He gestured at four other members of his family. “I see you’ve already met Alice and Jasper.”

“Yes, I did. It’s so strange to know that vampires are real.”

“I would argue that all myths have a basis in reality. As a witch, I suspect that you would have your own perspective on how human society, in general, portrays the magical world.”

As Carlisle was talking, the other vampires had come down the stairs and came to introduce themselves. There was Edward, Bella, Emmett and Rosalie in addition to Alice and Jasper. You noticed that Rosalie was hanging back from everyone else and refused to look at you. She seemed to give off a cold air towards you, but you didn’t know why. Shrugging it off, you reasoned that maybe that was just the way she was. You were here to lay low and regroup, not to make friends.

--

As weeks turned into months, you felt like you finally got the hang of living in Forks. Emmett was by far the most fun person to hang out with in your opinion, and Edward was working on teaching you how to play the piano. Being the only person to eat food could be awkward at times, but Carlisle reassured you that you gave them a reason to use the kitchen and act like a normal family by going out to get groceries. The threat of Voldemort still hung over your head, but being with the Cullen family made you feel almost normal. You’ve talked to Carlisle about the real reason why you ended up in Forks, and he agreed to bring this issue to the attention of the Denali coven and figure out a solution. The only person that you didn’t have that much contact with was Rosalie. You still didn’t understand what her deal was since you had done nothing to offend her.

One of the best things that came out of meeting the Cullens was that you could now say you played the piano. Edward was very satisfied with your progress and told you that you were ready for harder pieces. “Edward, why does Rosalie hate me so much?”

“She doesn’t hate you, (Y/N).”

“Then why is she the only one in your family that avoids me?”

“Go talk to her. I know that you want answers, but I believe that it would be best for her to tell you herself.”

“Can’t you read people’s minds? Just tell me why she doesn’t like me.”

“It’s not for me to say. Just tell her, she’s nicer than you think.”

--

Even though everyone lived in the same house, it was still hard to get ahold of someone who seemed to be actively avoiding you. The house was bigger than it looked from the street, and it seemed as if Rosalie was hiding out in the very back in an effort to avoid talking to you.

“Hey Rosalie.”

“Hi.”

“I wanted to talk to you about what’s been going on between us.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Yes, there is. I just don’t know why you’ve been so cold towards me but get jealous when I say I went out on a date with someone. For whatever reason, you’ve decided to dislike me from the moment I got here, and I don’t even know why!”

Rosalie finally turned around to look at you, and she actually seemed embarrassed for some reason. “I’ve been avoiding you because you’re my mate, and I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you! I know that humans wouldn’t truly understand what it means to be a vampire’s mate. That’s why I’ve been distant from you.”

“Is that your way of saying you like me?”

“It’s more than that. I don’t know how much you know about mating when it comes to vampires, but I would do anything for you.”

“Is it like the werewolf imprinting thing? Jacob was explaining that to me the other day.”

“Don’t compare us to that species of dog. Vampires are more refined than that. But yes, it’s similar in the sense that we know who we’re meant to be with as soon as we see them. It’s a bond that lasts forever.”

“Oh.” You didn’t know what else to say, but that one word you managed to get out sounded so lame that you immediately felt the heat of embarrassment rise to your face.

“I know it’s a lot to take in, and it’s fine if you need some time to think about it.”

“I don’t think I’ll mind if we started to date, you know. It definitely helps that you’re really good looking.”

“Oh wow, is that all you’ve gotten for me in the last few months?”

“No, no! I didn’t mean that. You’re a really interesting person, you know.”

“Hmm, I’m sure.” Rosalie came close to you faster than you could react and kissed you on the cheek. “If that’s the case, I’m taking you out on a date tomorrow night. Dress up because we’re going somewhere nice.” She left you standing in the middle of the room with your mouth hanging open.

Before you could gather your senses, you heard a slow clapping come from behind you. Emmett came into view with a devilish smirk. “It looks like the newest member of the Cullen family is finally about to get some action.”

“Oh, stop it, Emmett.” Alice skipped in glaring at Emmett. “We’re going to be busy getting you ready for your first date tomorrow.”

“Wait, did you see this happening before?”

“Yes, I did. Why do you think Jasper and I were waiting for you months ago? I knew you were going to be joining our family right before you came here.”

“Well, before we get to that, there’s the issue of why I came here. Voldemort is still a threat, and I’m concerned he’s going to bring his influence here to the United States.”

“Don’t worry about that, (Y/N).” Alice’s voice was muffled by the stack of clothes she already had in her arms. “Carlisle is already at the Denali’s talking about your issue, and besides, you already know many of your spells have little to no effect on us vampires. Of course, we don’t know how the forbidden curses might affect us, but I wouldn’t worry too much about it. I have no doubt that the Denali coven will agree to help us fight against this Voldemort. Now try on these clothes, I need to see if you look good in them.”

You sighed in resignation as you moved to take the clothes from Alice. It seems even the talk of Voldemort couldn’t distract Alice from having her way when it came to new clothes.

[reading-riordan]

PJO: “The Lightning Thief,” Chapter Five

“I Play Pinochle With a Horse”

or, “The Confusing Info-Dump Chapter”

Percy spends the next few days in and out of consciousness, which is weird, because at this point I’m pretty sure that his wounds are all psychological. Occasionally he’s fed “something that tasted like buttered popcorn, only it was pudding” by the girl from the end of the last chapter.

When she saw my eyes open, she asked, "What will happen at the summer solstice?" I managed to croak, "What?" She looked around, as if afraid someone would overhear. "What's going on? What was stolen? We've only got a few weeks!"

Unfortunately for The Girl, a guy covered in eyeballs comes in to tell her that it’s still too early for this much foreshadowing.

Eventually Percy wakes up sitting on the porch of that farmhouse, feeling weak. Grover is there, wearing a “CAMP DEMIGOD HALF-BLOOD” T-shirt but otherwise looking normal. Then he hands Percy a broken Minotaur horn and confirms that yeah, his mom ostensibly exploded last night and he’s still got hairy goat legs under his jeans.

Percy is just “FML,” which, y’know, fair.

I was alone. An orphan. I would have to live with...Smelly Gabe? No. That would never happen. I would live on the streets first.

"I'll put a pin in that idea.” —Rick Riordan

Grover, who is honestly weepier about this than Percy, advises him to drink something which looks like apple juice but tastes like “my mom's homemade blue chocolate-chip cookies, buttery and hot, with the chips still melting.” It makes him feel a lot better, though Grover implies that the stuff would kill him and possibly Percy if either of them drank too much. 

Grover then leads Percy to the back of the house, and we get our first real glimpse of Camp Half-Blood:

Between here and there, I simply couldn't process everything I was seeing. The landscape was dotted with buildings that looked like ancient Greek architecture—an open-air pavilion, an amphitheater, a circular arena—except that they all looked brand new, their white marble columns sparkling in the sun. In a nearby sandpit, a dozen high school-age kids and satyrs played volleyball. Canoes glided across a small lake. Kids in bright orange T-shirts like Grover's were chasing each other around a cluster of cabins nestled in the woods. Some shot targets at an archery range. Others rode horses down a wooded trail, and, unless I was hallucinating, some of their horses had wings.

At the end of the porch, Percy sees The Girl and a man who “looked like a cherub who'd turned middle-aged in a trailer park.” (I must admit, I do like that description.) They are apparently Annabeth and Mr. D.

Percy is surprised to also see Mr. Brunner, who it turns out is actually named “Chiron.”

“Scale? Never heard of it.” —Some ancient Greek artist

"Ah, good, Percy," he said. "Now we have four for pinochle."

He offered me a chair to the right of Mr. D, who looked at me with bloodshot eyes and heaved a great sigh. "Oh, I suppose I must say it. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood. There. Now, don't expect me to be glad to see you."

[...]

She glanced at the minotaur horn in my hands, then back at me. I imagined she was going to say, You killed a minotaur! or Wow, you're so awesome! or something like that. Instead she said, "You drool when you sleep." Then she sprinted off down the lawn, her blond hair flying behind her.

You know, Hogwarts has a much nicer welcoming ceremony. There’s a feast and everything. 

(Also, it should be “blonde,” with an “e.” Just saying.)

Mr. Brunner says that he’s glad that Percy didn’t get horribly killed, as that would have made his tenure at Yancy Academy “a waste of time.” (See, he clearly had no interest in the other students.) Apparently Grover was planted at the school to look out for future protagonists, and when Chiron heard about Percy he murdered the previous Latin teacher and took a job at the school in order to watch him. 

Percy finally cuts to the chase and asks what the heck is going on, and Chiron reveals that the Greek gods are real.

Oh, and Mr. D is one. Specifically Dionysus, god of wine, though he doesn’t like going by that because “names are powerful things” and I still don’t understand why we’re doing this bit. As far as I know, the ancient Greeks weren’t scared of using Dionysus’ name, and it apparently doesn’t hurt him or anything, so...? The point is, Zeus is mad at him, so now he has to spend the next century running a summer camp and getting no rum for his rum and Coke. 

So, let’s talk about Dionysus for a minute. 

“No, I’ve never actually seen a leopard. Why?” —Some ancient Greek artist

He’s actually a pretty complex character. If you don’t want to watch this very interesting 17-minute video, we can summarize by saying that he originally seems to have been a scary god of madness, but over time he developed into a younger, friendlier god with some scary stories still attached to him. The thing is, Mr. D doesn’t fit either of those portrayals very well. I think Riordan was going for the creepy original version (there’s a whole paragraph describing some of his scary stories), but he comes off more grumpy than terrifying. I guess the lack of booze is making him irritable. 

He fits the role of grouchy camp counselor pretty well, though I’m not sure why he hates Percy so much in particular. Unless Riordan just needed a Snape for his Harry Potter bingo card.

"If you were a god, how would you like being called a myth, an old story to explain lightning? What if I told you, Perseus Jackson, that someday people would call you a myth, just created to explain how little boys can get over losing their mothers?"

No, Chiron, he was created to encourage little boys with learning disabilities. Get your facts straight. 

First off: kudos on Percy’s first name, I like that detail. Secondly, I have to question: why don’t people believe in the Greek gods anymore? Mr. D says that Percy will be incinerated if he refuses to, but by that logic, why isn’t Zeus hurling lightning at people until they burn up some BBQ for him? How’d y’all let Christianity take over your cosmic empire?

"Well, now," Chiron said. "God—capital G, God. That's a different matter altogether. We shan't deal with the metaphysical."

Hmm. 

He kicked your ass, didn’t He?

Nah. He sent His kid to do it. 

The adults are still being vague, expecting Sally to have explained things a bit more. Eventually Mr. D leaves with Grover, saying that they need to discuss “[his] less-than-perfect performance on this assignment." Percy asks Chiron a few more questions, and learns that the “Greek” gods have apparently moved Mount Olympus to America.

“What you call 'Western civilization.' Do you think it's just an abstract concept? No, it's a living force. A collective consciousness that has burned bright for thousands of years. The gods are part of it. You might even say they are the source of it, or at least, they are tied so tightly to it that they couldn't possibly fade, not unless all of Western civilization were obliterated. [...] America is now the heart of the flame. It is the great power of the West. And so Olympus is here. And we are here."

*rubs temple* Do I want to try and unpack this? ‘Cause there’s so much to go over. 

Like: what counts as "Western civilization," at a time when globalization is spreading it to non-Western countries? Or conversely, when the West takes on non-Western traits? Are the gods only tied to Greek influences, or influences from the new countries that they come to? If they’re the embodiments of Western civilization, what does it mean that said civilization has been primarily defined by Christianity for so long, and follow up, does that mean Christianity dying in Western countries, ironically, hurts them? 

Don’t get me wrong, having characters as the personifications of cultural traits is an interesting concept. I just don’t think that Riordan plans to go into that as much as he should.

And heck, I can imagine them moving without making it all philosophical. Look at Greece’s economy. The Olympians wouldn’t be the only ones emigrating.

So Percy is kind of freaked out about being included in this “physical embodiment of Western civilization” thing, and finally asks “Who...who am I?" Chiron admits that he doesn’t know, but that in the meantime, he'll help him get settled into camp and also reveal that he’s a centaur.

I mean, the next chapter confirms that Percy knows the myths about Chiron, so he shouldn’t really be surprised.

Anyway! The characters are okay-ish, but the plot is overly complicated even though it’s barely begun. Come back next time when Percy finds out more of it and also blows up some toilets. 

[folerdetdufoler]

hey kerry!! would you ever write a fic set during the pandemic? or would that be to stressful? what kind of fic would that be?

ah, i think this was prompted by this tweet, and i didn’t want to answer until i had updated that au.

officially? no. or at least not yet. It feels weird like…romanticizing a situation that is killing people across the globe. i don’t watch or read horror/thriller/sci-fi to have any other base knowledge on how a pandemic happens or is contained, even in a fictional setting, so i don’t know if creating a different kind of pandemic would feel less weird and/or accurate.

but i’ve been thinking about it. It’s hard not to, to not exist in a literal nightmare and use comfort characters to mentally survive it. i’ve projected my desires onto them, i’ve hoped for the idea of love to be enough to change people’s behaviors and move them to protect each other. i’m interested in how people have built and destroyed trust, how it’s shaped relationships, and how it’s challenged different worldviews. add a dash of competent government and i go feral. so like, technically…yes. vaguely.

it should go without saying, but it’s (always) a skam AU. it’s always isak and even. i don’t know how it’s being handled in norway, so it would have to be set in america. isak and even would still be norwegian though. and we’re going to add a little unrealistic emergency to make their meeting actually happen.

the borders closed. by the time isak got to the airport, every possible flight was cancelled. he couldn’t even do some kind of convoluted frog-leap through different countries just to get back to his own continent. he was stuck. the ticketing agent behind the desk gave him a sympathetic look and then waved him away, inviting the next soon-to-be-disappointed customer forward. before he left, though, he reached into his backpack and pulled out a disposable mask from the large pack he’d managed to buy before heading to the airport. he slammed it onto the counter. “wear it.”

isak dragged his bag over to the far wall of windows, near the entrance, where the benches were quickly filling up with disgruntled international travelers. he had to sit down and think and research, to figure out what his next step would have to be.

“they’re still not letting people in, eh?” a deep voice two seats to his left asked in english. isak looked over at it, because he wasn’t sure if it was a genuine or sarcastic answer. unfortunately the face he needed to read was devastatingly handsome, and caused his throat to close up before he could answer properly.

“uh….”

“no english?”

“um, no. i mean yes, i speak english.” isak was fluent from his upbringing, but the last year of attending school in america definitely helped. his inability to communicate in this moment was due to the other man’s mouth, not his own. “and no, i can’t get a flight because the borders are closed.”

“i would say it’s a smart move except i’m locked out too.” the man smiled, and his eyes softened, so if he had been sarcastic before, he wasn’t anymore.

“norway?” isak asked, hopeful. he’d clocked the man’s accented english, and they were both sitting across from a scandinavian airline counter, but he couldn’t distinguish between the countries.

“norge,” he confirmed with a little nod.

for some reason isak continued in english. perhaps he felt like he had more authority with it. he bent over to his bag to get another mask out, pulling it by the straps. he offered it to his new norwegian acquaintance. “please put this on.” he got a confused look in return, and no move to accept the protective covering. it pained isak to insist that the man cover up half of his face, but he pressed. “please, for your safety.”

“is that why you’re wearing one?”

“i’m wearing one because norway closed its borders. norway knows how dangerous this virus is. you should wear one too.”

the man reached out a hand but didn’t quite grab the mask. “i can’t tell if you know more about what is actually going on or if you’re…crazy.” the soft eyes had gone serious and calculating. “but if i put it on, will you tell me?”

“what?”

he took the mask. he was clumsy putting it on, but anyone would be if it were their first time. he hooked it around his ears and pulled it up over his nose and mouth, watching isak while he did, as if he were a mirror. isak pinched the bridge of his nose to get the man to copy him, fitting the mask to his face. once he did, the man twisted to face isak straight on. “i’m even.” his voice was muffled, but isak’s ear was already straining to distinguish it from the rest of the airport noise around them. “i want to go home. you do too. can we figure out a plan together?”

“i—um, i don’t know. i have to talk to my school first. and then maybe the consulate.”

“what’s your name?”

“isak.”

the mask did nothing to stop the man—even—from smiling. the mask traveled with his cheeks right up to his squinting eyes. “i’d shake your hand but i feel like that’s not a good idea.”

“you are correct. we shouldn’t be touching.”

“okay, i won’t touch you. but can we talk? my employer said i should fly home, but i think it’s too late. i don’t know what to do.”

isak took a deep breath. he looked around them, at the way the counters were drawing lines of increasingly anxious travelers. the empty seat between them was going to be high value real estate soon, and he could tell someone wasn’t going to allow it to remain a buffer for their safety. “i don’t know either.” he looked back at even. “do you work in manhattan?”

“yes. is that where you go to school?”

isak nodded. it was a small comfort, meeting a neighbor from the other side of the ocean, who also happened to be a neighbor on the other side of the east river. “okay. well. i don’t want to stay here. it’s going to get crazy as more borders close. we should…we should go back.”

“share a cab?”

isak took in the man’s face, still handsome even when it was hidden behind a mask. some of his hair was stuck in the straps at his ears, and isak noticed that the style was slightly disheveled, probably from anxious fingers. but it was the eyes that convinced him. in just a few minutes, in such a short conversation, isak had come to trust them. he trusted the eyes that glanced out the window at the taxi stand. and when Even stood up and threw the long strap of his bag across his chest, isak followed. they stepped out into a gust of cold, early spring air, and headed toward a waiting taxi. whatever their next step would be, they would take it together.

anyway yeah, that’s the start. that’s the beginning of the pandemic, and that’s the beginning of isak and even. isak is a student, going for his masters at NYU in biology, but he’s going to switch to epidemiology almost immediately, for obvious reasons. even…well, i don’t know where he works, or why, but he’s not in school. his office is going to close and he’s going to have to work remote. isak’s basic understanding of diseases and community spread give him a slight advantage in that he knows what he needs to stock up on and is doing it now. so he has a small, but safe apartment to stay in. isak shares some of his hand sanitizer and masks and they go to opposite ends of the island. he bonded with even initially, while they tried to figure out their status in lockdown, but then they separate and try to go about their lives as normally as possible. isolation will hit hard of course, and they’ll reach out to each other again, looking for answers and any kind of connection back home. even shares what his mother reports on in oslo, and isak shares the research that he has better access to. they zoom for work, and for school, and then they zoom each other. isak still trusts those eyes through a screen, and he wonders if he should trust them in person as well. because as the fear and uncertainty grows over the next few weeks, while they still can’t get home, at least there’s a little bit of steady right in front of them. And they crave it more and more. And…more….

[ladyanput]

Seeing Green Ch.3

Well, here we go guys, a double chapter in one. I would like to thank everyone for having patience with me.

[[MORE]]

Marinette smiled to herself after her date with Damian. It had been so wonderful, he was wonderful, a perfect gentleman. His smile had sent her heart fluttering, something that hadn't been accomplished since… Since Adrien.

Mari's smile dimmed slightly, but she shook her head. No! Adrien would not ruin this for her. At least this guy, this wonderful, handsome guy had an actual romantic interest in her. It would be different, she wouldn't be chasing a dream, she'd be chasing a reality, something within her reach.

"Tikki, I think I want to go out for a bit. Clear my head before bed. That date with Damian… I'm a bit restless now." Marinette stretched, now dressed in comfortable pajamas. The teen headed to her hotel room window and opened it. She winked at her Kwami. "Alright, Tikki, Spots on!"

As Ladybug leapt into the night, pulling herself to a ledge cross from her room. She knew she shouldn't be Ladybug, not in Gotham, as she should be in Paris, but it just felt so odd not to be out on patrol. She thanked whatever god there was that she had gotten Viperion and Ryuko back on as full time heroes. It had made her stress of leaving Paris on this trip a little less stressful, and having Klaaki helped when she had to purify the akumas. 

As she landed on the rooftop, she barely avoided landing in some kind of white substance on the ledge. She frowned at it, silently noting that this must be a popular place for birds, before she took that moment to step onto the center of the roof and take in the city. It was such a condensed place, full of tall buildings, of noisy cars and pollution. It was worlds away from Paris.

So lost in her thoughts, she almost didn't hear the sound of someone landing on the roof behind her. She turned and spotted a red and black caped figure. Her brows rose as she realized that this was one of Gotham's vigilantes. She wracked her brain right quick, and a name came to mind; Red Robin.

"Can I help you with something?" He began advancing towards her, and Ladybug's defenses went up. Shit, she wasn't supposed to be spotted. His frown was more evident as he drew near, crossing his arms. "I don't think I've ever seen you around Gotham before."

"Please, I… I am friendly. I just came to America for a small vacation." Marinette groaned mentally at the lie as she held her hands up, showing she wasn't armed. But she could see he had weapons on him, and that made the hairs on the back of her head stand on end. She could probably take him in a fight, but she didn't want to risk hurting one of Batman's partners, especially since he was part of the Justice League. Whether they believed her situation in Paris or not, she still needed some help. "A- and to speak to Monsieur Batman. I am Ladybug, a hero from Paris. We really need help, things are getting out of hand!"

"What do you mean? What's going on in Paris?" He was silent the entire time Ladybug spoke, explaining in detail what had been going on for the past few years. She could feel as Red Robin glanced her over, calculating something. He then tilted his head, as if listening to something, before he uncrossed his arms and they dropped to his sides.  "Well, Ladybug, while that tale seems hard to believe… Batman will meet you here tomorrow. If you get up to any funny business, we won't hesitate to take you out, understand?"

"Oui, Monsieur. Merci." Ladybug's shoulders sagged in relief. It had been a split minute cover story, but now it had probably given her the opening she had so desperately needed. She smiled at him, and he brushed past her, heading towards the ledge facing the hotel.  "Oh, be careful! I think some birds made a mess there, you wouldn't want to step in it!" 

Red Robin froze and glanced down at where he was about to step. He stared for what felt like several minutes, before he tensed and let out a curse that made Ladybug flush. He knelt down, holding what she saw was a cotton swag, swiping up some of the substance, then putting it in a glass vial attached to his belt. Without another glance back at her, he was gone, leaving Ladybug standing there, very confused. With a shake of her head, she turned around and went back to soaring across Gotham with her yo-yo.

…

Nino frowned as he watched his girlfriend sitting across the table from him. He had wanted a nice dinner with her, at the hotel's restaurant, but here she was, either typing away on her cell phone, or telling him about something new Lila had told her. He felt himself getting a headache. It was just non stop with his girlfriend and Lila, the world never seemed to go still, it was constantly in this spiralling vortex.

"I mean, I can't believe she's help Batman! THE Batman!" Alya exclaimed, her eyes lit up with excitement and eagerness, as she finished posting the story on the Ladyblog. She didn't notice Nino's blank look as she squirmed in her seat, beaming. "Imagine helping in take down Two Face in such a way, Nino! She's so awesome, I just can't believe she chose me to be her best friend! I mean, she could have chosen anyone, but she chose me! She's even going to let me do another interview with her tonight, about the time she got all streamy in a hot tub with Damian and his brother Tim…"

"Alya, babe… Can you please put the phone away? I wanted to have a nice dinner with you, it's been forever since we had a nice date." Nino reached out and took her free hand, giving it a light squeeze. Alya gave him a warm smile and set her phone aside, and they both glanced at their menus. "See anything you'd like?"

"Oh, steak frites would be nice. Did you know Lila has an uncle who runs a farm that gives every high end restaurant their meat? She's met all of the world famous chefs, maybe next time she can get us into a fancy restaurant for another date!" Alya grinned at Nino, who felt his headache worsen. They rarely had alone time together, but even when they did, Lila always seemed to somehow come up, whether it be in conversation or her calling them in the middle of the date. 

"I think we can manage without Lila, babe. I think the salmon would be nice." Nino looked up from his menu, only to see Alya back on her phone, hearing the notifications dinging frantically. "Babe, your phone.."

"Hold on, Nino, Lila's just telling me that Damian's going to take her to a high class party tomorrow night! She's sooo lucky, having him take her to the fanciest restaurant in Gotham."

"Alya, can we-" 

"Do you think maybe she'll introduce us to him? I'd love to get an interview with THE son of Bruce Wayne! I'd be the first to get his photo, the Ladyblog would blow up on a national level!"

"Alya-"

"Maybe I could get interviews from.the entire Wayne family! And when her and Damian get married, Lila will let me cover their wedding-"

"ALYA, ENOUGH ABOUT LILA!"

A pin dropping could have been heard in that restaurant. Nino had jumped to his feet and trembled with visible annoyance, while Alya sat there, clutching her phone tightly in her hands. She frowned and opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Nino stormed out of the dining room, leaving its patrons staring in his wake.

Once out of the dining room, Nino felt like crying. He had planned a nice evening, he had combed his hair back, had dressed up nicely, but it still wasn't enough. He didn't feel like enough for Alya anymore. She always seemed to be grasping for whatever big and shiny thing came next, whatever would make the most tantalizing news story.

He soon came into the bar area, leading to the hotel lobby, when he spotted Miss Bourbon. She was sitting at a table, nursing a glass of wine as she looked miserable. He hesitated, telling himself to continue back to his room, to cool off. He had never actually talked to the TA personally, but he thought she seemed nice, though very tough. He had felt bad when Lila had told Alya that the woman had been trying to escape Canada, to escape a scandal with sleeping one of her male students. Boy, that rumour had spiralled out of control and had nearly cost the woman her job, but soon seemed improbable when it was found out she worked at an all girl's academy.

Nino found himself walking over to her, meeting her inhumanly purple eyes as he took a seat across the table from her as she sipped her wine.

 "Mr. Lahiffe, is everything alright? You seem rather miffed." Eva set down her glass of wine and sat to attention. It sort of surprised Nino at how quick she was to come to his aid, that she actually did care, despite the poison Lila had spread. He clenched his hands ever so slightly, looking down at the table, frowning. "Nino?"

"Miss Bourbon… You know Lila is lying, right? I've known for a long time, but she made Alya so happy, but when things got out of hand and I tried suggesting things might be false…" Nino shut his eyes tightly, letting out a shuddering breath. "I don't recognize my girlfriend anymore. I'm just so drained all the time, and I feel like my thoughts and interests don't matter anymore."

He opened his eyes again, when he felt Miss Bourbon take his hand and give it a small squeeze.

"Have you told anyone else about this, Nino?" Eva's voice was soft, non judgemental. "Now, usually I'd say try talking to her about it. But from what I've seen,she brushes you off, huh?"

"I tried talking to Adrien, but he keeps saying that it'll turn out, that since we really love each other, we'll make it through." Nino glanced at the glass of wine between then, and sighed, putting his head in his hands. Silence hung over them for a long time.

"Now, I don't have a track record of relationships I can give you advice from, but I think you already know what to do, Nino. You don't need me to tell you."

Nino glanced up and smiled at her, feeling as if a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. The duo never knowing a certain Italian girl watching them from the lobby.

…

The next morning, Marinette was still grinning as she made her way down to the lobby. She practically skipped her way out of the elevator, her mood slightly lifted more when she saw that some of her classmates were already there, meaning she hadn't been left behind again. 

"Good morning, Alix." Marinette grinned as the girl spotted her and headed her way, though her steps faltered slightly when she spotted Kim, Juleka and Rose were headed her way. She tensed, dread clawing its way up her spine as they were upon her. "Oh.. Hello, everyone."

Their expressions were unreadable, before Rose's eyes flooded with tears and she threw herself into Marinette's arms and began to sob. It was then she realized that their expressions were not guilt ridden.

"I'm s- so-o sorr-ry Marinette!" Rose blubbered out, the tears dripping down her sweet face rapidly. Marinette opened her mouth to speak, but found herself speechless. 

"We were really stupid, Marinette." Juleka spoke up as she awkwardly rubbed Rose's back, meeting Mari's gaze. Then her voice trembled as when she spoke again. "We were horrible to you, over something that could be easily disproved."

"We all did some very stupid shit." They all glanced over to the elevators, just as Nino stepped into the lobby, his face clouded with shame. "I was the worst, dudette… We've known each other for so long, but… I threw that all away, didn't I?"

"We all should have listened to you, Mari. You'd have no reason to lie, we just all thought it was because if Adrien at first, but then things escalated so fast." Kim muttered, running his fingers through his hair, looking rather distressed.

"Yeah, you all should have listened to me." Marinette finally spoke after a few beats of uncomfortable silence. She gave Rose's back a gentle rub before she stepped away to cross her arms, closing herself off to them. Her expression hardened as she glared at her classmates. "Most of you had known me for years, yet you thought I'd act that way? While I appreciate your apologies, I'm not forgiving any of you. Yet."

Tikki was proud of her Chosen in that moment. Marinette knew she had grown a spine, she wasn't going to be the people pleaser anymore, she had started thinking for herself for once. 

"I might, keyword being might, forgive you guys, eventually. But right now, nothing has really proven you guys won't turn on me again. I mean, honestly, look at Alya, Ivan, Mylène, Nathaniel, Max, and Sabrina. They're still lapping it all up, and one of them used to be my best friend! So I'm sorry, but I'm not going to forgive any of you just yet." Marinette shrugged at their slightly crestfallen expressions, ignoring the guilt in her gut. "But you guys actually have some redemption, at least you guys didn't know since the beginning, like Adrien."

The following silence as almost deafening, then Alix grabbed Marinette by the shoulders, her expression murderous. Marinette flinched, feeling her skin bruise under the girl's fierce grip.

"That son of a bitch knew this entire time?" Alix's voice was soft, but deadly, promising whoever would face her fury would taste blood that night. Marinette merely shrugged once again, looking indifferent to the fact.

    “He’s known ever since she came back to school. He told me to not expose her, that her lies would expose themselves.” She set her hands on her hips, a cold smile spreading across her face as she met Alix’s eyes. “Well, they’re sure as hell taking their time to expose themselves.” 

    Alix and the others looked as if they were about to explode, but it was cut off by the arrival of Lila and her court that were still trapped under her spell, while she hung off of Adrien’s arm. 

    ‘Funny,’ Marinette smirked at the ground, raising a brow ‘,for a girl engaged to Damian Wayne, she’s very friendly with other guys.’

    “So Damidarling took me to this amazing restaurant, the lobster was absolutely divine!” Lila cooed, while her noticeably smaller court showered her with praises. She soaked it all up, beaing, though her eyes narrowed when she saw the people surrounding Marinette. Marinette could see the girl sharpening her claws as she sneered at them, “Oh, Marinette, how was your date with the intern? I hoped you enjoyed whatever rundown café his salary could afford.” 

    “I don’t think they even went to a café, they probably ate out of the trash.” Sabrina chuckled, with Alya letting out an amused snort. This was all white noise to Marinette, so she turned away and met Nino’s pained gaze, and it was obvious what he was going to do, once he got up the nerve. 

    “Good morning, everyone!” Miss Bustier strode in, beaming at her students as they watched as Miss Bourbon followed soon after, looking exhausted and drained. “Now, I know you’re all rather excited to be in a new city, so I thought that since we’re not leaving for Gotham City Park until around lunch time, I made arrangements for us to go to one of the shopping malls, so you all can have a morning of free time.”

    Many faces lit up with excitement, and Mari couldn’t deny that the thought was really enticing. She had wanted to see the fashion of Gotham, maybe see if she could get any inspiration for some new designs, maybe something gritty and rock ‘n’ roll for Uncle Jagged.

    The class soon arrived at the mall ,Miss Bustier giving them a time and place to meet at so that they could go to their planned picnic. 

    Marinette wandered off on her own, not wanting to be stuck with listening to Lila and her tales of Damian Wayne. She felt bad for the guy, she’d hate to see him meet Lila at the gala and get taken in by her lies.

    “Marinette?” Damian had just stepped out of a store, his eyes widening a fraction, before his face melted into a smile. He strode over to her, carrying a wrapped box under one arm. “Good morning, Angel. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

    “D-Damian!” Mari’s cheeks burned red and she grinned, stode towards him, letting out a giggle as he pulled her into a hug. “My teacher decided to let us have a free morning. I’m glad she did, now that I got to see you.”

    “You’re making me blush, Angel.” Damian’s smile widened, his cheeks going faintly rosy. When Marinette hooked her arm with his, she bit her lower lip when she felt the muscle through the material of his shirt. She felt bad, she was practically ogling him, but it was a physical attraction, right? Something completely natural. “Well, since you’re here, how about I accompany you until you have to leave? Maybe a fun little morning date?”

    “I’d love it.” Her heart fluttered, walking with him towards a clothes’ store. She shyly watched him from the corner of her eye as they entered. “I was hoping to see the fashion of Gotham, maybe I could make a new outfit design out of it.”

    “You’re into fashion design, right? I mean, last night you said you had designed some stuff for Jagged Stone, right? I looked it all up, you’re really talented, Marinette.” Damian’s voice was warm, gentle. He leaned down, kissing her softly on the cheek. At her look of surprise, he chuckled. “I never got to kiss you back last night, thought I’d return the favour. I hope I didn’t cross a line.”

    “No, not at all! I really liked it.” He smelled nice too, whatever his cologne was. Mari pressed her hands to her burning cheeks, trying to calm down the blush, only to nearly run into a mannequin. She squeaked, then took a step back .Her gaze sharpened slightly, and she pulled a sketchbook out of her purse, much to Damian’s surprise. God, she was adorable, with the spark of inspiration that lit up those blue eyes of hers. “Gotham fashion has a lot more dark colours, it’s more elegant, yet practical.”

    Damian smiled as he watched her sketch and mutter to herself, feeling himself feel content simply watching her. He had never felt this way around another girl before, he found most girls boring and annoying, as a matter of fact. But Marinette, she was different, he had never had the urge to kiss a girl before, but he found himself want to kiss her until she was breathless, but also to protect her from any harm. But he knew for a fact he shouldn’t rush into anything, that could be a grave mistake, he wanted to know everything about her first.

    “Marinette, I see you called your intern boy toy to join you!” Lila stepped from behind a rack, her smile sharp, ferocious, with Alya and Nino close behind. She fluttered her lashes at Damian, smiling prettily. “Wow, Mari, you must be really desperate to get Adrien’s attention if you decided to call an intern here.”

    “Mari, girl, this is getting a bit ridiculous. You need to learn that Adrien isn’t interested  in you, you need to stop using guys to make him jealous all the time.” Alya rolled her eyes, then returned her gaze to her phone, typing away frantically. Nino scowled at her, but said nothing.

    “I know how you must be feeling, Marinette, having both Adrien and Damian Wayne after me, but this jealousy of yours has gone too far.” Lila sneered down, her green eyes glinting with cruel intent. “But I guess a girl like you does deserve an intern, you both kiss ass to get where you want to be.”

    “Lila, that’s enough!” Adrien was storming up to the group, roughly shoving Damian away from Marinette, before taking the girl’s arm and pulling her close. “And you, leave Marinette alone! She’s not going to fall for your ploy, pretty boy. I won’t let you hurt her!”

    Adrien dragged the protesting Marinette out of the store, Damian and the others close behind. Adrien held Marinette close, then beamed down at her.

    “Don’t worry, I won’t let anyone hurt you, ever. That guy won’t make you another notch on his belt, I promise.” Adrien smiled and cupped Mari’s cheek, failing to see the fury flaring in her eyes. 

    “Adrien, you have crossed a line…” Marinette whispered, fury radiating every from every word. She grabbed the wrist that was near her face tightly, squeezing it so hard that Adrien winced. “I don’t need protection, I am quite capable of taking care of myself, thanks.”

    “Marinette, stop hurting Adrien!” Lila screeched, drawing eyes from everyone. She soon burst into crocodile tears, leaning to Alya for support. “Alya, someone, stop her! Her jealousy is getting out of control! I knew she was bitter about me dating a Wayne, but this is too much!”

    “You’re not dating Damian Wayne, you little twit.” Damian snapped at Lila, advancing towards Adrien, his green eyes now ice cold. Marinette wrenched free from Adrien’s grip, only to rush to Damian, trembling in his arms as he pulled her close. He met Adrien’s gaze. “You’re Adrien Agreste, correct? I will have to have a talk with my father about having business with your brand in the future…”

    “Who the hell do you think you are? I don’t even know you!” Adrien snarled, his hands clenched into fists. That was HIS lady, HIS princess. Every part of him wanted to claw the boy’s eyes out and take Marinette somewhere safe, someplace private. She had been in love with Chat Noir once, she’d definitely love him again.

    “Do you not recognize a Wayne when you see one?” 

    Marinette blinked at the unfamiliar voice, seeing the horror on everyone’s face, then froze as she felt cold steel press against the back of her head.

    “Now, which one would be a better target? A Wayne, or his pretty little girlfriend?” Two-Face sneered down at the teens, while his goons had Lila, Alya, and Adrien at gunpoint. He slid a coin from his pocket and flipped it into the air. He caught in one hand, then grinned down at Marinette, then grabbed Damian and held a gun to the boy’s temple. “Rich boy it is. I must say, I’m surprised to see Damian Wayne out in public like this. Your girlfriend must be really special…”

    “Damian Wayne?” Mari met Damian’s eyes and felt the blood drain from her face. He was no intern, no… He was Damian fucking Wayne. She would have laughed, if not for the current situation. Her mind racing, her eyes quickly darted around the mall plaza. There was nothing within arm’s reach of her, so she had to deal with her smarts. But first, she had to get everyone else out of here. While Damian was shouting at Two Face, Marinette took the opportunity to tackle the only damned henchman the villain had brought with him, and pinned him to the ground. She looked up and met Alya’s face. “Go, get out of here, now!”

    Alya was immediately in gear, grabbing Adrien and Lila’s wrists, taking off towards the exit. Marinette’s relief was short lived when the guy smashed her across the temple, sending her crumpling to the ground. 

    “Marinette!” Damian shouted and tried to struggle from Two Face’s grip as he watched the blood ooze from his angel’s temple, spilling across the white tile floor.

Tag List:

@realrandomposts @interobanginyourmom @ladybug-182 @ladylb @zalladane @mochinek0 @poshplumcot @urbanpineapplefarmer @vixen-uchiha @angelofmusickaterinapetrova @thewheezingbubbledragon @northernbluetongue @violatiger8 @thequestionablyhuman @ginamarie1512 @maude-zarella @2sunchild2 @saphiraazure2708 @ayuchan07 @virgil-is-a-cutie @thepeacetea

[missperfectlyfine13]

Could This Be Something Real? (Chap. 7/8)

Read Below or on AO3 

“So, let me get this straight, you guys aren’t breaking up anymore?”

“Nope.”

Beca and Chloe had waited a couple weeks after getting together to tell Beca’s team. They didn’t want them all up in their business in the early stages of their relationship.

“And you’re actually a couple now?”

“Yup,” Beca can’t help the megawatt smile that spreads across her face.

“Well thank god, it’s about damn time,” her manager chuckles.

“So you’re saying we were the only blind ones here?”

“Oh definitely, but I’m happy for you two Beca, I really am.”

Beca spins around to look at her anxious girlfriend, who is perched on the edge of her bed.

“Ok they know,” Beca smiles, sliding her phone into her back pocket.

“And they’re ok with it?” Chloe asks immediately.

Beca nods, “They’re happy for us.”

“Good, I mean nothing could have kept me from you, but it’s nice to have their stamp of approval anyways,” Chloe smirks, reaching out for Beca’s hands, “you’re stuck with me Mitchell.”

“And there’s no where else I’d rather be,” Beca lets her girlfriend grab her hands and pull her down onto the bed next to her.

Chloe leans over and quickly captures her lips with her own. Beca eagerly kisses her back, she’ll never be over the feeling of Chloe’s lips against hers.

“I love you,” Beca whispers when Chloe finally pulls away.

“I love you too Bec.”

************

Beca is certifiably insane.

She’s only been dating Chloe for real, for about 3 weeks, but yet here she is…ring shopping. She holds the small, but brilliant diamond between her fingers, trying to picture how it would look on Chloe’s hand.

The thing is, this has been a long time coming for them. She knows Chloe better than anyone else in the world. They’ve practically been together for 6 years now, they just never labeled it correctly. Beca knows that Chloe is the only one for her and she knows that the red head feels the exact same way. Why wait any longer? Neither of them are getting any younger and Beca knows that she wants Chloe to be her wife.

Beca can barely believe she is at this point. If you had told her two months ago that she would be buying a ring for her best friend, her best friend she’d pined over for years, she wouldn’t have believed it.

Beca finally leaves the jewelers an hour later, with a beautiful engagement ring for Chloe and a ring for herself as well. She’s starting to doubt herself though, that swipe of a credit card and the bag burning a hole in her pocket, she’s starting to worry that maybe this will scare Chloe. What if she’s not in the same frame of mind as Beca? What if she’s no where near ready? They don’t even officially live together yet, they’ve only had sex like 5 times (Beca would prefer for that number to be higher but her schedule has been unbearable, so 5 times is pretty good considering).

Maybe she should start dropping marriage into their conversations casually and see how Chloe reacts. That seems like a safe option before just popping the question.

************

Beca stares nervously over at Chloe, who is curled tightly into her side as they watch a movie. Chloe came over as soon as Beca got back from the studio that afternoon. She’s at Beca’s more than she’s at her own place but this is the first night Beca has had free for a while and she plans to use it wisely.

“Hey Chlo?” Beca tries not to let her voice waver, even though her nerves are running high.

“Yea?” Chloe turns to look back at her, her baby blues sparkling.

Beca swallows hard, “So how do you feel about marriage?”

Beca could kick herself, so much for being subtle.

“Oh, um well I would definitely like to be married someday, why?” Chloe looks a little thrown off at the question.

“I was just curious,” Beca says quickly.

“You know I do see it being you…I hope that doesn’t scare you,” Chloe’s cheeks turn a subtle shade of red.

Beca shakes her head no, “Of course not…I see it being you too ya know. You’re it for me Chlo.”

Chloe abruptly pulls Beca into her, smashing their lips together. She must have said the right thing. Chloe kisses her so passionately, yet so tenderly, it makes Beca’s head spin.

Beca finally pulls back, when the need to breathe overcomes her, “Would it freak you out if I said I see us married in the near future?”

“Beca Mitchell…is this your way of asking me to marry you?”

“Uh well this isn’t how I saw it happening but,” Beca fumbles around to come up with an answer that doesn’t give it all away.

“So you’ve thought about it?” Chloe raises a curious eyebrow.

“Yea,” Beca squeaks.

“How long have you been thinking about this?” Chloe asks softly, grabbing her hand.

It’s Beca’s turn to blush furiously, “For a couple weeks.”

Chloe places a soft kiss on her cheek, “If you ask…you know my answer is yes.”

This isn’t how Beca planned it. She wanted to do something big, grandiose, something that Chloe will remember forever. It was going to be a surprise, but something about right now, right here on this sofa seems right. This is the moment.

“Fuck it,” she whispers, standing up off the sofa.

Chloe looks at her quizzically, “Bec…what?”

“I’ll be right back,” Beca turns on her heels and runs up to stairs.

She grabs the little velvet ring box from her dresser drawer and races back downstairs. She’s a little out of breath by the time she’s standing in front of Chloe.

“I wanted to do something more special than this…believe me, but I can’t wait,” she pulls the box from behind her back so Chloe can see.

The red head gasps, her hand coming to cover her mouth. Beca kneels down in front of her girlfriend, her hands shake as she opens the lid.

“Chloe Marie Beale, will you be my wife?” Beca looks up at her hopefully, pulling the delicate diamond from the box.

“Yes,” Chloe chokes out, her eyes shimmering with tears, “of course I will.”

Beca grabs her hand and slides the ring onto her finger. She can’t help the wave of emotion that crashes over her at the sight of the diamond on Chloe’s hand. She feels a couple happy tears roll down her cheeks as Chloe pulls her up off the floor and right into her lap.

“Yes, I’ll be your wife,” Chloe whimpers before kissing Beca with everything she has.

************

No one is particularly surprised at Beca and Chloe’s recent engagement. According to their friends, families and the rest of the world, they have been dating for months. It only really knocks the wind out of Beca’s team, but ultimately, they understand.

“So Beca, tell me about this,” the morning TV talk show host points down at the diamond on her ring finger.

She came onto the show to promote her upcoming album, but she knew these questions would come.

She can’t help the way she starts to smile, thinking about Chloe and their upcoming wedding, “So, as you might have seen around the good ol’ internet, I proposed to my girlfriend Chloe 2 months ago.”

“Congratulations! Any idea when the wedding will be?” the hostess beams back at her.

Beca looks behind them, at the screen which is now displaying a picture of her and Chloe. She instantly recognizes the picture, Beca posted it on Instagram a few weeks ago. It’s a selfie of the two of them, Chloe is pressing a kiss to the brunette’s cheek, her hand resting on Beca’s shoulder, her engagement ring sparkling, clearly in view.

“We’re not sure yet, it was a quick engagement and we just want to take our time and enjoy what we have right now,” Beca finally manages to pull her gaze away from the picture of her and her finance.

“Well I think that’s great and I wish you and your fiancé all the best,” the host replies happily.

“Thank you,” Beca couldn’t erase the smile off her face even if she wanted to.

When Beca finally gets back to her hotel room that night, the first thing she does is pull out her phone to start a video chat with Chloe. She hates been across the country from her girlfriend, but she still has a job to do. New York is a little bit farther from California than she’d like though.

It only rings a few times before her phone screen shows her fiancé, smiling back at her.

“Beca!” Chloe squeals excitedly, “how was your day?”

Beca flops down on the bed, “Busy, tiring, but good.”

“I saw you on Good Morning America, you were great.”

“Oh my god, I did so many interviews today I almost forgot I was on that,” Beca chuckles tiredly.

Chloe looks at her sadly for a moment, “I miss you so much Bec.”

“I miss you too, two more days and I’ll be back,” it’s only been three days, but she misses Chloe so much it hurts.

“That’s too many days,” Chloe whines.

Beca stares back at Chloe longingly, they don’t talk for a couple minutes, just happy to be in each other’s presence, even if it’s through a screen.

“I want to get married before your tour starts,” Chloe says abruptly, breaking the comfortable silence.

Beca’s album drops in a week, and two months later she starts her world tour. It would be a lot to try and throw together a wedding before then but Beca is willing to try.

“Are you sure Chlo? That’s only like a couple months away,” Beca gently reminds her.

Chloe nods, “Yes. I want to be your wife and I don’t want to wait a year. We’re both going to get busy and I just don’t think I can wait that long.”

“I don’t want to wait forever either…but do you think we can pull it together that quickly?”

“I may have been working on some things already…especially with you being gone this week,” Chloe smirks, pulling a binder of paper into view, because of course she would.

Beca laughs, “You’re crazy…and I love it.”

“You better love it, because you’re stuck with this crazy.”

[fanfic-collection]

Loki x Reader: Quarantine

Please comment

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‘And this is Captain America, signing off, reminding everyone once again, stay safe, stay strong, and stay true to America. Please, buy only what is necessary, if you’re quarantined, stay home for the assigned days, get a lot of rest if you’re sick, take the necessary precautions, and we’ll get through this, we always do.’ Steve smiled, saluting the camera on his laptop then looked at Bucky.

Bucky gave a tired thumbs up.

'Signing off, I’ll see you all tomorrow.’ Steve clicked the end transmission button and the feed ended. 'That was really good Bucky, I really think we’re making a difference, I hope we can keep people calm in this trying times.’

Bucky raised his eyebrow and leaned back in the seat groaning as he covered his face, 'Are you seriously going to drag me through these podcasts every day?’

Steve stood up and stretched, 'Until the quarantine ends, it’s the least we can do for the public, so yes, yes I am.’

You snorted into your vitamin enhanced energy drink, watching the two super soldiers across the counter.

'Don’t start.’ Bucky muttered, looking at you, raising a warning finger.

You set down your glass and held up your hands defensively, 'Not a word.’

'It’s day two and I’m stir crazy already.’ Bucky groaned, running his hand through his hair as he stood up and began to pace.

The big screen turned on and Tony appeared, poolside with a margarita in hand, shades halfway down his nose as he squinted at his phone to see the three of you in the kitchen. 'Cap! Other soldier, teddy bear.’

'Why does he call you teddy bear again?’ Bucky asked, glancing at you.

You sighed and shook your head. The automatic kitchen doors slid open and the two norse gods walked, mid conversation, stopping only when they saw Tony on the monitor.

'Oh excellent,’ Tony continued, 'thunder bros, anyways, Steve, loved the pep talk, my stocks stopped their nose dive, they’re still dropping but not nearly as bad, I heard one of the local grocery stores even had toilet paper on the shelf too.’

Steve rolled his eyes, 'What do you want, Stark?’

'Can’t I check in? One quarantinee to another?’

'You’re pool side in Malibu.’ Bucky grumbled.

'And you’re in Stark tower with tons of friends in New York, your point?’

'Tony? Lunch’s almost done!’ You heard Pepper call from somewhere within the house.

'Yea just a second honey.’ Tony grinned, 'Quarantine is awesome, am I right?’

Thor grumbled, 'I don’t see why I have to be stuck in this building.’

'Thor, we’ve told you countless times, people are worried you could transmit the disease.’ Steve replied.

'No Midgardian illness is a match for me.’ Thor replied, fist on his chest.

Loki rolled his eyes, 'And yet, the disease may cling to you and travel to the mortals, brother. How our physiology is compatible to theirs is unknown, must we go through this again?’

You made eye contact with Loki and smiled softly.

Loki’s irritation seemed to fade somewhat and a faint smile touched the corner of his mouth before he turned his attention back to Thor, folding his arms.

'So are you guys going to have a party then?’ Tony asked, 'Wait, where’s Hawkeye? Two of you are missing.’

'Hawkeye and Nat are around.’ You replied. 'Nat was taking a nap last I knew and Clint’s… lurking.’

Tony shook his head before abruptly touching his phone, 'yes, what is it? Kid, I told you to only call in emergencies. What, wait, say that slower. You’re quarantined? Do you have enough supplies to get you through the next two weeks, just calm down. No, I’m on the phone with the other Avengers. Yes, most of them, the ones that are quarantined at the tower. Yes that includes Loki. Why do you call him Mr. Loki. Kid… Focus. Yes, ok good, you have supplies, yes you’re not sick, I know, Aunt May is pretty young, yes I know, she’s fine, you’ll both be fine, it’s just a quarantine, keep entertained with Cap’s podcasts, they’ll keep you calm, he posts them each day, yes you’re talking too fast for me to understand you. Kid. Peter. Listen to me.’ Tony sighed. 'Kid.’ He sighed again. 'Listen. I will hang up on you. Kid. Listen, stop it. Stop. I’ll send over a suit with groceries. Yes, I’ll send toilet paper. Yes, I know all the stores are out, I have connections.’ Tony smiled weakly, 'I got you covered, you’ll be fine. You’ll get through this. Now all of you, I’m hanging up and getting lunch with my hot date. Bye.’ The screen went black.

'That spider kid got quarantined?’ Steve asked, looking around the room.

You blinked, 'I guess so.’

Loki crossed the room, moving away from Thor and came over to sit beside you. He left a respectable distance, peering into your glass curiously before easing himself into the chair next to you.

'I could bring him supplies.’ Thor grumbled.

'Brother we have dealt with plagues, as has humanity before, if their response is to lock themselves away to deter the spread of it, we are not to interfere. Their healers, doctors, have made their demands,’ Loki looked up from your drink, 'We do not interfere.’

'We are protectors of humanity, we must safeguard the realm in whatever way possible.’ Thor urged.

'You cannot fight a disease with your hammer.’ Loki replied. 'Or are you suggesting culling the sick to limit its spread?’

Thor creased his brow.

Loki raised his eyebrow, 'Such action has been taken in the past and will likely take place in the future.’

Steve and Bucky watched Loki uneasily.

Loki continued coldly, 'Tell me brother, would you risk more lives or take them because you are uneasy with patience?’

'Loki…’ You said slowly.

Thor growled softly before turning and stomping from the room.

'He’s never patient.’ Loki muttered, shrugging.

You sighed and touched his forearm hesitantly.

Loki glanced down at you somewhat surprised. You slowly pulled your hand away as Loki’s eyes trailed your hand, watching where you had been and slowly staring at your hand where it lay a few inches from his arm.

Steve cleared his throat. 'Well I was thinking I might start drawing again, I haven’t had a chance to sit down and just sketch in a while.’ He managed a smile, 'Anyone have any suggestions? Maybe I’ll do some skylines…’

Bucky sighed, 'I haven’t had a lot of time to hone any hobbies.’

'Well now is a great time to start!’ Steve clapped Bucky on the shoulder, 'C'mon, Stark is bound to have plenty of things lying around this musty old tower. Let’s go digging.’

You finished your drink, staring at the empty mug. 'Do you think there will be a culling?’ You asked, looking at Loki.

Loki shook his head, 'Not at all. Thor is too quick for action, this disease is easily controlled by your mortal means. Stay clean, take care of yourself and avoid too many people. The spies staying to themselves are smart, the three of you are the only regular humans in this tower, otherwise it’s nearly empty on the top floors. Between the soldiers and myself and my brother, you’re the only mortal really.’

You nodded slowly, staring at him with concern.

Loki carefully touched your hand, a bit of color rising to his cheeks, 'I doubt with the chemicals running through their bodies and my brother and myself and our genetic make up, we seem to be safe from this disease. I fear only for you falling ill, but we will keep you safe and even so, there are many more cases of recovery than there are fatalities.’

You nodded, 'Yea, you’re right.’

The black screen flipped on. 'What motherfucker, is stealing all of SHIELD’s motherfucking toilet paper?’ Nick Fury’s voice roared over the speakers as he glared out around the screen, staring down at you and Loki. 'Where is Rogers?’

You blinked, quailing beneath his glare. 'He went looking for art supplies, sir.’

'Someone got it in their funny little head that it would be a good idea to ransack the SHIELD bathrooms for toilet paper and now I got nothing to wipe my ass with. HILL, get me Hill on the line.’ Fury continued, barking orders at someone out of view.

Loki rolled his eyes, 'I don’t know what you expect us to do about it, we’re under quarantine.’

You snickered, fighting back a laugh.

Fury looked down at the two of you, 'Oh right, I’d forgotten.’ He sighed, 'Do I have any Avengers or SHIELD agents I can call into duty?’

'Not that I know of, sir. I’m pretty out of the loop.’ You waved your hand, indicating the quarantine.

'Fine, fine, carry on.’ The screen blanked out again.

Loki looked at you and you looked back at him before the two of you started laughing weakly. You both quickly looked away.

'Want to go check out the library? It’s going to be a long quarantine.’ You offered your hand to him.

Loki looked at your hand hesitantly before taking it, 'Certainly.’

It might be a long quarantine, but perhaps not a terrible one.