#two of these chapters are very literal 'oh the author saw this in a vision and put it on paper to attack everyone's psyche bc its an

[iamthepulta]

What do you mean I can't write lewd scenes in between cooking at Thanksgiving?

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Chapter 20 - Ken Doll and Barbie the CEO

With support from her partner, Kisara and Ohma returned to watch the third match. The odds were equal now, and the Kengan fighters had renewed hope. Now that they got familiar with the ring-out rule and the countdown, they can show off, as they deserve - After all, Purgatory was shit compared to Kengan.

Once they arrived back at the waiting room, the fight had already started, and Julius was fighting that guy who matched his colossal build. As soon as Kisara saw her friends, she almost completely forgot about her haziness and started smiling, greeting them with a lazy wave. Before she could blink, Raian was there - Thankfully, her partner pulled her out of the way before that dumbass could pounce on her. Five times. "Guys, stop, I'm getting dizzy." though her vision blurred slightly, she was able to chuckle. "Seeeeeee~♪ babe? I told ya you could fuck those fuckers up! You fucked them up real time!" he cackled like a freaking maniac, but he was hilarious. "It was a collective effort, I don't deserve all the praise. I learnt from all of you. It should be me, thanking you, for quite literally seven years of help. You especially, 'Tsuki. You started all this, my best friend. My win is yours, as well as everyone else's." the man smiled at her, and walked up, patting her hair. "Hatsumi would have been proud watching you fight." she smiles sarcastically. "Oh, yes, of course he would have - If he wasn't training in some mountains in the middle of nowhere, in China. He went training with Rei, the same as when he started training me. I wonder if he thinks Mikazuchi Rei is actually a girl." she started laughing again, only to cringe and clutch her sides. "Kisara." she heard Gaolang's voice, as he stepped forwards. "Thank you." he held such a sweet and tender expression as he thanked her and extended his hand for her to shake. "I don't do handshakes with the God of Boxing, brother." she smiled back, clenching her hand into a fist, and bumping it into his right Godly fist. "I have been blessed." he couldn't help but look away in amusement. Through all the praises, Kisara went to Agito and extended her arms to the side. "Do I get a hug, AG?" the girl gave him a playful smile. "You should have been in the roster from the very beginning. I know what I trained." careful not to hurt her, he pulled her into an embrace. "It takes almost being beaten to death a few dozen times to get this good." Kisara laughed, making Agito shake his head - It had taken a long time, getting full control over his two sides and eliminating the delay - But in the end, he succeeded.

"Hey, boss. You mind if I watch the fights from here?" a boy around Ryuki's age came in the room. He had silver hair, and a boyish, innocent expression on his face. Judging by his stature and the few visible scars, he must have been a fighter. Kisara's supposition was confirmed by Yamashita Kazuo, who agreed to let him watch from here. "Ohhh, are you Ryuki's friend?" Kisara quickly made her way to the two boys, putting her hands on their shoulders. "Ah - ! You're the lady that fought just now!" Koga stared at her with awe. "Kisara's my name, great to meet you. I take it you're training to become the next big guy too?"  the boy grinned, though he seemed bashful. "Yes, Miss - But I know it will take a while. I just started, really. You guys are all super cool and strong, and I'm nowhere on your level." he was such an innocent boy, sweet darling. "Hey, now, you've got all the time in the world. At your age, I was a shut in who never left the bed. In fact... I was around 23 years old that I actually started doing any kind of physical training. That pretty man there - He's Nitoku. He studied to become an author, you know? He took up fighting barely 15 years ago. So - Not all of us start at an early age, but it's never too late, you know? So, chin up, I'm rooting for you!" though Koga was feeling overwhelmed by all the encouraging, he couldn't help but be attracted to the battle of the two beasts that was taking place. The impact of each and every blow was so heavy, that even the people of the audience thought they were being thrown flying away. "Hey, hey -- This doesn't look good at all! Our guy's getting pushed back!! Gosh, are they even human?!" poor Koga's face was dropped to the floor, crestfallen. "Doesn't look good? For who?" Wakatsuki scoffed at what he had just heard. "I've fought him before, so I can tell - It'll take more than THAT to bring him down." Julius managed to land a blow so hard to his opponent's gut. "Ohoho, yes, that was a fantastic fight, though you gave me a fright close to death. Half your face was dragged across the cement wall, it was insane!" Julius received a heavy blow to the head that sent him down to the ground - He almost got stomped down, but he blocked with his arm, delivering another blow - The enemy fighter was sent sliding across the floor, and continued getting plummeted... Or so the public thought.

"Wakatsuki... This isn't looking good." Ohma stared in shock as the opponent took a direct hit to the cheek, only to spin around and land a punch so powerful that it sent Julius to the ground, and the countdown began. "...I knew this would happen." he tsk'ed in annoyance. "He  shifted the flow of power to reduce the damage." "But... That looked like your Redirection Kata." Kisara muttered back, earning a nod of approval. "C-Come to think of it... The first time he knocked Julius down - His fist made an unnatural impression on his torso. What if that's because he was going limp?" Yamashita pointed out a very good fact. "The Water Kata. That Pineapple Head relaxed all the muscles in his body to disperse the damage." Ohma agreed. "B-But how does he know the Niko style techniques. C-Could Toa Mudo be a Worm that's infiltrated Purgatory??!!!" the four of them sobered up.

On the count of 8, Julius got back up. Though he attempted a punch, he was deflected and sent to the ground, only able to block the rain of punches. But from that impossible posture, Reinhold was somehow able to lift the man slightly heavier than even himself, whilst getting hammered down, trying to break free. "JULIUS!!! PUT UP YOUR GUARD!!!" Takeshi was his one eternal rival - And his biggest supporter in this tournament. "It's hopeless! His opponent's techniques are first class! He's not an opponent he can beat with brute force!" Koga looked like a gasping fish. "You're underestimating Julius, kid." Kisara smirked. "Only people who have fought Takeshi and gave him a run for his money can properly develop strategies to beat down strong guys that rely on martial arts as well as their own raw strength. I bet Julius sees Tsuki in the ring." she jabbed at her best friend. "... Let's not." Wakatsuki grumbled, anxious for the fight before him. As if predicted, Julius knocked back Toa, making him fall on the ground, and he even made him cough blood. "WHA--?! WHAT'S UP WITH JULIUS'S FOREARMS?!" as Yamashita rightfully gawked, his arms truly did look... Odd. "THAT'S -- THAT'S MUSCLE CONTROL!" if something could make even the Tiger breathless, it must be fantastic. "I've never seen anyone control their muscles to that level before...!" "That's... Pretty insane. Think you could still defeat that guy?" though she meant it more as a joke, they both were wondering the same question - Although, neither has forgotten how modest and nervous Wakatsuki usually easy, even going as far as to downplay his own strength.

The two fighters were back up and took their stances. "He's preparing for a counter! He'll have to approach with caution." Wakatsuki declared - Everyone, on both sides, as well as the auditorium, were feeling tense. Julius was the first to rush, ramming like a high-speed train - And with a single punch, Toa had broken the concrete ground with his head. Impeccable. All the Kengan fighters were cheering loudly, gleeful at the fantastic sight before them - Although Toa must have landed the counter, Julius spun his forearm to repel Toa's block. He flexed his muscles to their limits, then released them all at once - Similar concept to the Blast core, though its usage is entirely different. On the count of 10, Julius Reinhold, the Martyr of Muscles, was declared the undisputable winner of the 0% fat fight.

"That was AWESOME, Julius! A great match to witness, as always!" Kisara praised the man, who grunted and nodded in acknowledgement. "That win was totally you. You pulverized his techniques in just one hit." Ohma recognised his achievements. Once again, Julius scoffed. "The truly strong need no technique - But more importantly, Tokita Ohma, I don't think that man is a member of the Worm you're looking for." Ohma nodded his head. "Yeah... That looked like the Niko style at first, but it was something else entirely." he agreed. "You've improved again, Julius." Wakatsuki praised, raising his hand up. "I'll be cordial with you, but only this once." in their most epic fashion, the two strongest men high-fived, the sound of that clap resounding like pure victory for the Kengan association.

"So, now that three matches ended, it's finally time for the Purgatory to choose first, and we counter, right?" Kisara asked, though quite a few minutes have passed. "Yes, you are right... But why can't they just pick someone already, the hype is dying down fast." the manager grumbled, staring suspiciously at the Purgatory. "But we have 13 matches - Doesn't that leave one out?" Naoya asked, counting on his finger.

As if on cue, Alisa came forth, announcing a special match, as all lights went off. It was a timed match, and instead of the ring edges, the fighters can only move inside the glowing light. You lose if your whole body leaves the bounds of the light. In this match, the countdown doesn't apply. If, by the end of the 5 minutes there is no clear winner, the match is declared a No Contest. Gaolang was the first to speak, saying that the Purgatory had every advantage - Kisara disagreed, and she looked at Misasa with a mischievous smirk. He looked back at her, and with that leisure smile of his, he took off his blazer and announced that he can go fight this one. "Who else but someone small, fast and agile like this silver fox do you think can properly fight under these rules? If some big-ass meat head comes over, he can easily play around him. You wouldn't want another Julius and Toa match under these circumstances, right?" Kisara countered Gaolang. "If Miss CEO has so much faith in me, how can I back down now?" Misasa lazily chuckled. "Maybe I should go. I'm a rookie too." Masaki serenely spoke. "No." Yamashita was solemn. "I'd like you to go, Misasa." after so long, he could see how match ups can be made in your favour. He trusted Misasa's confidence, though he's never seen him fight before, the way he saw others. Regardless, despite his small build, he was chosen as the Eighth Fang, so he must be strong, especially after Katahara Retsudo himself praised him so much.

According to Alisa, the Kengan team was 'tricked' into choosing first - As it was a special fight, the two teams had to pick at the same time. But no matter. Misasa had his hands in his pockets, and looked around. The ring was empty, save for his sole presence. Ohma was reminded of Kisara's No-Fighter stance, and found the corner of his mouth twitching up. This guy must be the real deal. The Purgatory will underestimate him, the same they did for Kisara. Losers. "Don't pussy out, Biiiiiiiitch~ ♪" the Kengan fighters could hear nothing from the two Fangs shading each other, but they could hear Kisara's uncontrollable laughter. Raian recalled that one day he trained with that damned Fox girl, and all the tricks and taunts she pulled on him. He wasn't sure whether that little shrimp guy was doing the same thing, or simply had a personal vendetta against that meat-head fuckwad, but it was going to be as good a match to watch, as the red head's. Still, he just wanted to jump in action and beat the crap out of those fuckers already. And kill. Raian craved violence.

Once the fight was announced, the meat-head went in for a punch - He was fast, and followed up with more hits until Misasa was at the edge of the light. Though Naoya was impressed by his speed, despite his large build, Ohma was disappointed to see such an amateurish waste evident from all his motions. "Now, the fun begins." Agito heard Kisara giggling ominously, jumping on the railing to get a better look of the fight. The meat-head tried to palm Misasa's face, only for him to side step and end up behind him, punching him out of the ring - But he failed, and the traitor turned around and somehow cut off at his shirt and chest, drawing a bit of blood. Misasa seemed irked off. The motion the ex-Fang made with his hand looked as though he was using his thumb's knuckle to cut, the same as Lihito used the pads of his fingers to pinch.

The light's spotlight was getting smaller and smaller, whist the enemy's arrogance was increasing a hundredfold. Kisara was sitting on the railing, dangling her legs playfully and grinning at the display before her. "He's toying with him, what a cute dork!" she felt so easy-going, unlike young Koga whose grip on the railing bar seemed to be so tight that his skin turned bloodless pale. "Toying with him? Miss Kisara, I know he's your friend, but look how close he is to the edge of the light! One small push and he's gonna get propelled out of the ring!" the poor boy gasped in anxiety, only to see the red head point her finger towards the fight, as Misasa punched the enemy down to the ground, his face roughly slamming on the ground. "Ahhh, that was rough...." Misasa took off his shirt, throwing it out of the light-ring. "I can't stand being talked down to by a piece of shit like you..." Kisara wolf-whistled at the blond fighter, only to receive a mischievous wink right back. Kisara laughed, and laughed harder, as the foe got back to his feet, shrieking and growling countless curses and insults towards the Eighth Fang of Metsudo. "Come on. It's time to go to Hell." Misasa got in a fighting stance, flapping his hand as a gesture to get his opponent to attack him. "You are just a bat who thinks he's a lion." Misasa effortlessly retorted, watching the traitor lunge at him, and he retaliated with a knee to his chin, making him stumble backwards, before rushing forward with a barrage of elbows well aimed. "I've never seen a martial art like this before." Ohma muttered, leaning down to Kisara's height. "That, my darling, is just about one of the best martial arts known to mankind." the girl giggled, snaking an arm around his waist to pull him next to her, so she could lean on his body. "It is called Silat, and it has mainly soft movements, and can be successfully done with weapons also. They use elbows not only for attacking, like in Muay Thai, but for blocking and parrying also." the red haired woman explained the theory behind it. "Look how Misasa used his elbow to parry and derail that idiot's straight punch, and now he's using the other elbow to hit him over the head, at precisely his weakest spot. We are adorably cute and small people, my love, but we are capable of defending ourselves, even against meatheads like Yumigahama." the girl giggled playfully, watching as the blond knocked him off the balance and getting him in a one sided beatdown, attacking from outside his awareness. Misasa was capable of out-maneuvering his enemy at every turn, and no amount of size difference can make up for an attack you cannot see coming.

Spinning elbow, 12-6 elbow, elbow uppercut and a karate-chip to the wind-pipe, they all sent Yumigahama to the ground, writing in agony. He didn't even realise that his large frame was working against him, as the ring was shringing at such a rapid pace. A psychological wall that was getting him caught up and unable to fight to his fullest.

The foe cockily got up, getting in a stance, laughing at murdering one of Misasa's subordinates - Took out the trash, he said - If only he knew how angry Misasa was, deep inside his heart. "I don't wanna hear another word out of you. Just shut up and die." Yumigahama kept throwing punch after punch as the younger one dodged perfectly, yet still got nicked here and there. Despite all this, he wasn't landing any hits, nor was he able to throw Misasa off his groove.  His moves don't work if the opponent sees them coming, and Misasa was a master at foresight, and was always one step ahead. "He's strong!" Wakatsuki exclaimed. "Misasa excels at fighting in tight spaces. He's turned his smaller build into an advantage." Agito nodded. "Look, Wakatsuki. Misasa is carefully aiming for Yumigahama's vitals. Misasa's cultivated the skill it takes to bring down  opponents with bigger builds, and with his movement restricted and nothing in his arsenal but simplistic attacks, Yumigahama has no way to defend himself." he noted skillfully. "That's right, you big, brawny guys~!" Kisara looked over her shoulder at them, a snake-like smirk on her face. "All it takes is a little ingenuity."

Finally, Misasa got fed up with entertaining that idiot, and the light ring was small enough to his liking; As Yumigahama aimed for a grapple, Misasa used his elbows to hit his wrists down, before the joints of his thumbs shoved hard into his temporo-mandibular joint, dislocating it. As the enemy was shrieking in agony, the blond aimed an elbow shot to his cervical vertebras, and another, right in his face, making his teeth fly out - With one last punch, Misasa slammed his head down onto the ground, making push out of his face and skull.

"IT'S OVER!" the red announced. "THE WINNER OF THE SHOWDOWN IS MISASA!" as Misasa made a catwalk prowl back to the stands where the Kengan team was waiting for him, the first to greet him was of course, Kisara, who high-fived him.

"Way to go, you little tanuki!" Koga almost shuddered at the ominous look those two seemed to emanate simply from those vague, enigmatic close-eyed grins addressed to one another. "Much appreciated, kitsune lady." he scratched the back of his head sheepishly, looking at the others. "Good work, Misasa." Agito praised him. "Oh, don't mention it. I was just lucky enough to hit his sore spot." the blond chuckled dismissively. "Hey, don't be modest, that was a nice fight!" Naoya scolded him with a laugh. "That's right, you little Ken-Doll. Don't go around playing down our fearsome might!" Kisara nudged him in the ribs. "Alright, alright, my apologise Barbie the CEO." Misasa chuckled lightly. "Okubo and Miss Kisara are right, you fought very well!" Yamashita Kazuo smiled at the Fang. "Your display was worthy of the name of Fang. The Master will be pleased." Agito nodded, pleased at his successor. "Hey, guys." Koga called out. "I don't want to say Misasa's win wasn't impressive - But don't you think those guys are pretty unfazed?" "Yeah... It seems that way." Ryuki also spoke in a light voice. "N-No way! Their ex-Fang of Metsudo just lost! They should be screaming on the inside!" the manager exclaimed in shock. "No. My guess is, the boy is right." Misasa spoke as Kisara was applying cute, smile-face and animal plasters on his cuts. "Do you know what Yumigahama's record in Purgatory is?" he asked, only to look down at the red head. "No, not the salamander, I want the pink seal -- Oh, and that blue and purple panda." he cleared his throat, looking back at the manager. "Nine wins and five losses, wasn't it?" "Five losses? But he WAS the Fang of Metsudo, wasn't he?" Nitoku was just as surprised as everyone else. "So you mean there're still at least five guys stronger than Yumigahama?" Okubo sweat-dropped. "Purgatory is... Unfathomable." Kano grumbled with a glare. "With weakling rules like the ring-out, are you really surprised freak-loses can happen? Just like what happened with Gaolang." Kisara reminded them bitterly, only to flinch at the obnoxious laughter of the Kure fighter. "I LOVE IT! That makes them all the more worth killing!" Raian cackled like a maniac. "No killing, Michael Myers. We want to win, not lose because you can't restrain your blood lust." the girl scolded him. As they kept bickering amongst each other, Purgatory chose their fighter, a man called Naidan Monkhbat, otherwise known as the Hawk of Ordos. "He looks pretty strong." Ohma admitted, watching almost lazily. "Is he... Mongolian? He reminds me of what we see in movies." the Masaki lookalike approved her theory. "Yes, that's a Mongolian Wrestling uniform. It belongs to the Main School in the Inner Mongolia autonomous region." the boy spoke his knowledge. "So... Is he a grappler? Have I gotten that right?" the single girl there asked. "That's a perfect match for my Sambo." Nitoku fixed his glasses, fire surging through his veins. "No, no, it's time for a wrestler like me to shine!" Naoya, in his clown outfit, smirked arrogantly. "I could go out, if you like." Masaki didn't look up from his book. "Sit the fuck down, Richie Rich." Raian's comment made Kisara chuckle.

Naidan smirked up at the Kengan stands, and flexing his arm, he showed off the white tattoo of a disgusting insect. He was a filthy Worm, reporting directly to the head. Kisara gasped in surprise, whilst Koga and Yamashita yelled in shock. Ryuki, however, took his shirt and faux glasses off, and stepped into the ring without a warning to anyone. The Dragon King promised his friend he wouldn't kill this Worm monster... But it seemed the Mongolian had a death wish. Did he really want to get killed, or was it his arrogance speaking?

Ryuki was a tall, well-built boy, even for his age, but standing in front of Naidan, he looked so small and vulnerable. Naoya and Masaki seemed to agree his style must be something close to Greco-Roman Wrestling. As Alisa declared the beginning of the fight, Ryuki, in the blink of an eye, disappeared, leaping towards the enemy, only for him to get skillfully kicked down. The boy landed like a cat on his feet, before leaping again; Instead, he got tripped and forced into a cartwheel move, dizzying him slightly. Ryuki realised there is no way he could beat him in a contest of strength alone, as the man before him was at least 30 kilograms of pure muscles heavier.

Whilst deciding on a surprise attack, Naidan affirmed he wasn't an imposter, but the real man named and called Naidan Monkhbat. Interesting concept, if not, a little fearsome. Ryuki went in for an Uncoiling Serpent fist, only to get effortlessly punched in the mouth, and sent backwards. None of his moves worked - The boy was far too direct, and his set-up process was sloppy at best. He was far too easily predictable. Even when he was being held up, not even his toes touching the ground, he tried to hit his shin into Naidan's temple, but he got caught, the enemy's hand gripping the inside of his knee joint. Kisara was reminded painfully of Ohma's fight with Seki, a long while ago... It was a most frightful memory that she didn't want to remember at the moment. She was afraid for Ryuki's life, especially in the merciless hands of a Worm.

Naidan back-slapped and dragged him around, punching and kicking him without as much as breaking a sweat, yet all of these hits were nothing but a warning for Gaoh to get serious and actually bring forth his killing intent. "He's holding back on him, all 'cause I told him not to kill him...!" Koga gasped, nervous as he watched the fight - Seeing his best friend being slammed into the ground, bleeding so heavily, only made him realise furthermore how weak he was, compared to everyone else. He has so much to learn. "His opponent's strong enough to kill him, even if it weren't for that." Ohma reassured the boy. "If he is strong enough to report directly to the head of the organisation, I fear Ryuki might have no chance." Kisara muttered softly. "His movements are as precise as a machine. There's not a bit of waste. He has the unique 'Clingy Muscles' and 'Stunning strikes' unique to a grappling-based martial artist. His resilience is extraordinary too. This is going to be a tough fight." Gaolang spoke, and Kisara couldn't help but nod her head in agreement, remembering Cosmo and how tough he was, especially fighting against that psychopath Akoya. Grapplers were something above her comprehension. "Nobody on our team could match him in pure strength, except for maybe Julius, Wakatsuki and Raian. Ryuki can't win the fight the way he is now." "Not even you and Ohma?" Kisara blinked in surprise, only for the Boxer God to miserably shake his head. "Agito?" still a negative answer. "What an insane man."

With some mental gymnastics played by the Mongolian, Ryuki was now questioning his own convictions and morals. His grandpa, Gaoh Mukaku, told him to kill all Worms as they are evil, yet at the same time, he wasn't trying to kill him in the ring. Going as far as to claim that the boy was questioning the validity of his grandpa's claims, Ryuki's mind was completely blank and gone beyond the human realm; He began attacking his foe on an instinctual level, and it was clear he was doing far better, enough to get Naidan staggering. Ryuki was so much faster and unflinching than before, so swift that even his opponent couldn't see his hits.

Still, the Mongolian and his mastered 'Bird's Eye view' was fantastic and on a whole other level than any of them put together. It was a different kind of Foresight that Kisara couldn't understand the mechanism of, yet could agree it might just be a little better than the initiative she was taught. She wondered if she would be able to keep up with Ryuki's swift moves, as she, too, was speed and agility reliant.

Naidan hadn't broken a single sweat bead during the entire match, not even as he was holding a struggling Ryuki up by the neck. "Neither you, nor I, can escape the karmic cycle of killing - So if you won't kill me, then I will kill you!" the opponent shouted at the boy. "Is it because of your environment? Then, let me exterminate the Root cause." as Naidan glanced back at Koga and Yamashita Kazuo, he completely missed Ryuki's lightning speed as he got slammed in the face, only for the boy to get behind him and feint him, then get hit with a soft strike in the cheek, to the point they were both on their knees. "I'm never... Never letting you hurt Koga again." Ryuki growled like a feral animal. "YOU WILL DIE." "BRING IT ON! ONLY ONE OF US WILL LEAVE THIS RING ALIVE!" Naidan laughed boastfully, whilst both Koga and Naidan's Purgatory friend yelled in disbelief.

Gaoh incapacitated Naidan with a thumb deep in his foe's eye and slammed down into the ground, plummeted down with a barrage of berserker hits and punches, only for Alisa to order for a count down. Ryuki was deaf to the refere, and Naidan was holding a death-grip on his neck, unwilling to let go of the one who had to kill him. The Omega. Both fighters were beaten and bruised, and the match was approaching its end. Naidan grabbed the boy, snapping his shoulder, dislocating his joint - No, rather, Ryuki dislocated his own shoulder to be able to land a good punch up Naidan's chin. In his suffering, he received a rough shin kick to that agonising spot of his joint, making his growl in pain.

Gaoh got flipped on his back and his waist was straddled; The Mongolian started strangling him, and not in the fun way either. His windpipe was on full attack. From sheer desperation, Ryuki pierced his thumb deep into Naidan's eardrum; Tears were gleaming and streaming down the boys face, only mirrored by the satisfied grin on the opponent's face, as he grabbed the finger killing him and driving it even further, into his skull and brain.

Naidan fell on Ryuki, half-dead. His friend leapt out from the stands, grabbing the Mongolian and begging him not to die, calling for the doctors to come over, yet barely any of his shouts were heard by the deaf man, who could only warn him not to trust the man calling himself Nicolas. "These fucking Worms only know how to bring misery to this world." Kisara growled, hopping off the railing and kneeling in front of Ryuki, bringing him into a tight embrace. The boy's fingers were gripping so deep into her flesh that she was afraid he would rip the flesh off her bones. "Shhhh, it's okay, Ryuki, it's okay. Everything will be okay. Nobody is upset at you, I promise. Nobody, not even Koga." it was almost weird, holding an almost exact copy of her own fiance, as though he was his little brother. Kisara was rocking the boy in her arms as though he was her child, one arm around his torso, the other hand caressing the mess of dark hair. "Miss Kisara... I....I'm..." the boy was trembling violently in her arms. The sound of running footsteps alerted the boy, who looked back at the two new-comers. "It's okay, Ryuki, just calm down. Let's get you fixed up. Miss Kisara, please help me get him to the Infirmary." Koga looked down at the two, panicked. The manager, however, was feeling intense guilt over being unable to save  Ryuki. "Koga... Boss. I'm... S-So..." but the soft, weak voice of the young boy was drowned out by Naidan's friend, Liu, who was out for revenge. "Wait a minute... You think I'd let you leave, did you?" the glare of the Taiwanese man could freeze a lake. "YOU DIE TOO."

No matter what Yamashita said in an attempt to stop this Liu man, it was in vain, for the enraged man created an earthquake where he stood. Liu Dongcheng, the Serpent, one of the Three Demon Fists. How adorable. "W-Wait a minute, let's just all calm down--" "GET LOST!" Liu attempted a punch down towards the whimpering Ryuki, but in a split second Kisara rose up, using her Aikido to grab the foe's arm and making him fly on the other side of the poor boy, landing on his feet. Though Liu was shocked, being countered in such a way, he tried to hit the red head - He remembers her, the one who killed another one of his Purgatory friends - She deserved to die also. His next hit got deflected, but not by her, but by Ohma, who somehow appeared by her side in the blink of an eye, his eyes focused, yet his body completely relaxed.

Raian, too, came by, smirking like a mad-man, followed by a raging Naoya and a silently wrathful Akoya. "Look, I know how you feel, but if you start this, we're not gonna take it lying down." Tokita spoke with a bored flair, putting a protective arm around his wife, bringing her closer to his side. "YOU'RE ON! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!" the enraged Taiwanese man had to be held back by his team mate, Jurota, whilst the other three were there to de-escalate the situation. "No, no, no, we'll back off right away, pardon the embarrassment." the blond called Nicolas smiled nervously. "Let's just keep a level head for now. This isn't the smart way to go." for some reason, Liu started at the one dressed for a nice beach time with absolute dread. "They've got a point. Naidan was acting strangely back there. I don't know what he was doing, but..." of course, nothing could calm him down. "If you get this competition called off, then Naidan will have died for nothing. Is that what you want? To let your friend die in vain?" Donaire, the one who no doubt was the captain, called out to him. This man seemed to have just about the same vibe as Ohma; Confident, assured, strong... A true leader, without even trying to be. "I'm killing them as soon as the competition is over." Lie growled at them, turning on his heel and walking away. "Well, looks like things are back under control." Naoya sighed, glaring at the Purgatory fighters. "They don't want this match called off any more than we do." Ohma nodded in agreement. "Things are looking a little too lukewarm." Raian grinned wickedly. "Raian, no!" Kisara snapped at him as she returned by Ryuki's side, embracing him. "Raian, HELL yes!" he lunged to land a punch on Jurota - But not only the brunet didn't even flinch, but Lu Tian casually rose his hand, blocking the fist. "You're a lively one, aren't you? But save that spunk for your match." as Raian tsk'ed in annoyance, remarking their strength, Naoya yelled and scolded the assassin. "Raian." Kisara called him over. "They're strong, aren't they? Very strong. To block your attack like that..." the Kure nodded at her. Sighing, the girl got a strong grip on the boy, but before she could get him up, she got dragged away forcefully by the assassin. "Nah, sis, ain't gonna let ya rip your stitches open." Kisara's cheeks turned a hue pinker, realising her awful mistake. "You should know better, Miss Doctress." "I... Might have forgotten I just got stabbed. Not that the pain isn't lingering, but I suppose the Worms pissed me off too much to remember." she sheepishly chuckled, only to get picked up in Ohma's arms. "Enough with the Worm-stuff, you dumbass bookworm. Just because you got some new moves and put a little muscle on those skinny arms of yours, doesn't mean you can overexert your injured body like that." the man smirked down at her, though the disconcerting feeling was eating away at his heart. "I just got you back, I'm not letting you escape my grasp, you little vixen." "Technically speaking, it was I who just got you back, not the other way around, you stupid gym rat." she brought him down in a kiss, before she was brought to the Kengan waiting area and put down. "Hey now, enough with that lovey-dovey shite! No need to make us all jealous!" Rihito whined at them, only to get swatted away by Raian. "Shut up, shit head, leave them be." Raian cackled, glaring at his menacingly. "There's still someone on the stage." Gaolang spoke all of a sudden, earning everyone's attention, before looking at the single Purgatory member, the man called Lu Tian, who easily blocked Raian's punch. "I guess he's next." Ohma grumbled lowly. The other member of the Three Demon Fists, the Centipede, Lu Tian. With a somber look on his face, he displayed a circular item, looking very much like a bracelet bangle. At once, Kisara gasped, her head snapping towards Agito, who was grinning at the direct provocation. "Agito -- Will you be alright?" she stepped in front of him, her hands gripping his arms. "My apprentice won her fight. I cannot lose either." he spoke simply. "I am as prepared as always, even with this." Kisara nodded at him with a smile, bringing her fist up for him to bump. "Alright, Agito. Show those fuckers who the Emperor of the Kengan Matches is!" "You've got it." with a monster-like grin, Agito confidently stepped in the ring, seizing up his opponent, challenging him with the Gu ritual bracelet.

It was going to be one hell of a fight.

< Previous Chapter Next Chapter >

[myimaginedcorner]

I went in completely blind to your if and I just have to say, I am pleasantly surprised, amazed and obsessed with it (Like not a very normal amount). I could say a million things about your writing(I’d literally love love love to study it for personal use, ofc, If you’d let me!)—from its flow to the immersion that imo literally makes it feel as if I’m there, but I’ll stick to a (relatively) short ask and talk abt my experience. I particularly enjoyed being the local pain in the ass(For the ros at least) and I haven’t flirted with them not even once—but now my brain has decided that it wants to romance the count or the sailor out of everyone (They’re embarrassingly consuming my every thought at this point, just something about melancholic old men and cunning (probably emotionally unavailable) men really.. Gets me each and every time). But one thing that I am curious about is the birds; the raven, the owl, and the eagle as far as I remember. It’s not that recurring of a theme to get their pov, but just enough to get me thinking, is there an importance to them/do they represent something or are they just they just there for their point of view to progress the story? And the other thing I also am curious about is what did it mean by ‘get out’? I’m trying to avoid spoiling it for those who hadn’t read it by keeping it vague but if the answers for either questions contain spoilers, feel free to not answer! If you read this author, you are amazing, Ily and have a superr great week<3

Hi!! Oh my god, thank you so much for this amazing ask - it made my day! I am so glad you enjoyed my writing: I am currently struggling with it a bit as I am going through the first chapters, so reading that someone had fun with it helps me stay motivated! You absolutely have my permission to study it, if you so wish, although I am a bit embarassed for I find it quite standard (and not up to my standards at the moment, haha).

Silver Demon has his charms... I wonder where they can get you.

The birds come from a discarded idea of having two perspectives on one scene, a full one and a limited one; as I realised how many of you had positive feedback for the bird scenes, I threw away the full scene idea, recycling it for the last chapter's visions. They are there to present the characters with a flawed point of view on an occasion happening outside the MC's knowledge, so that both you and them have something to discover further down the route! They also represent the MC's father - far, distant, but observing how the world develops as he saw it. In a way, the birds are possessed by the Omniscient Reader, restricting one's power over the world!

Get out.... if you stumbled upon one of the short italic sentences, well, congratulations, those are few and rare throughout the book! They do have a meaning. Wait and see.

Thank you so much for the ask, I loved to hear from you!! Have an amazing week too xx

[crankynewt]

Life Could Be a Dream - Chapter 2

Live in Living Colour Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Summary: (Y/N) slowly begins to remember their life with “Pietro” before WestView as they move through the decades, but sometimes knowledge is a curse rather than a blessing.

Pairing: Pietro (Peter) Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warning: WandaVision Episode 6 spoilers! Read at your own risk!

Author’s Note: Here’s the highly requested second part to Be Okay! You don’t have to read it to understand this story, but it does fill in the gap during the 80s episode and give a little more context into the reader’s mind. Also, the reader’s powers and Halloween costume are highly based off of Starlight from the boys even though I did my best to make it gender neutral, but that’s what I kinda envisioned!

(Not My Gif!)

Your hips swayed as you danced around the kitchen, the sound of The Chords’ “Life Could Be a Dream” filled the room from the record player in the corner your beloved vinyl was spinning on. Chopping pineapple for the jell-o in the bundt mold beside you, you hummed along to the familiar tune as your feet shuffled back and forth on the checkered floor.

A whooshing sound and light breeze behind you tore your attention away from the task at hand. Turning around quickly, you were met with the smiling face of your loving boyfriend, relaxing in a chair with his feet propped up against the kitchen table. His dark jeans were complimented by a letterman jacket adorning his shoulders, his shades of grey complimenting your own and those surrounding the both of you.

“My partner and their impeccable taste in music.” He smirked, arms crossed behind his head.

“My boyfriend and his faster-than-a-bullet superspeed.” You retorted, shuffling over to your man and giving him a playful smack on the leg. “Feet off the table! We’ve gotta eat here in a few hours!”

Pietro whooshed once again, this time with one hand in your waist while the other held yours, finally slowing down enough to gently rock you to the music. Life really could be a dream, and you were experiencing it first-hand.

“What is happening? Where did this come from?!” Agent Woo asked, watching the dancing couple sway as a hexagon framed the image and the words ‘Pietro(Y/N)’ shone across the screen.

“I don’t know! When Wanda recast Pietro an extra broadcast started from inside the hex and this is what the channel’s playing.” Darcy explained, taking a sip of her long awaited coffee as the end credits began to roll. “She must have somehow created another storyline for them.”

“But, wait… Didn’t somebody say that (Y/L/N) went missing before the blip?” Monica commented, pointing at your smiling face on the screen.

“Last I heard was that they got beamed up on that spaceship in New York with Spider-Man and Doctor Strange, but nobody’s seen them since.” Jimmy added, crossing his arms with a furrowed brow.

“Well wherever they were, they’re back in action.”

You woke up with a gasp, shooting straight up as a cold sweat adorned your body. Your nightmare had been something that you couldn’t believe your mind had imagined, it was so real, so dark… 

You had been on a strange planet surrounded by shades or orange and red, weirdly dressed people fighting all around you. At the centre of it all was this purple giant, a metallic glove adorning his hand as he fought the group of you away. 

Before you knew what you were doing you were rushing towards him, hand raised as a tingling feeling ran down your arm while golden light formed around your hand. But your attack was to no avail as with a clench of his fist the giant had opened a red hole in front of you and you began free falling.

“What? What is it?” Pietro grumbled, slowly waking up at your sudden outburst. He sat up as well, rubbing his hand on your lower back soothingly. 

“It was just a dream, babe.” You brushed it off, turning to face Pietro and leaning closer towards him. His eyes still held worry and a bit of disbelief as you played it off, but rather than argue, he just held you close as the two of you laid back down until sleep took it’s hold once more. 

“How much longer ‘till he calls?” Darcy whined, spinning in her chair as the boredom of watching reruns overtook her. You and Peter had just finished your ‘80s episode, meaning that the two of you had just reunited with Wanda and Vision.

“Don’t worry, he’ll call.” Monica replied, and as if on cue the name ‘Jimmy Woo’ was flashing upon her phone screen. She was quick to answer and eagerly pressed the device to her ear. “Woo? What’d your guy say?”

“Scott said that (Y/N) hasn’t been seen since they were on a planet called Titan fighting Thanos. Stark apparently told him that they got tossed in some hole he opened and they couldn’t get them back.” Jimmy explained, the sound of a car moving filling the background as he was already on his way back from talking to Lang.

“You don’t think that he sent her to wherever this new Pietro came from, do you?” Monica responded, Darcy shrugging her shoulders in response.

“I mean, it’s well within the realm of possibilities?” 

“What are you boys doing?” You called from the bottom of the stairs to where Pietro and the twins were playing some video game on the tv, laughing and shouting as they shot at each other. “Piet, why aren’t you in your costume?”

Your boyfriend finally turned to face you and your Halloween costume had his jaw quite literally dropping. You adorned a white costume with a golden star and accents on the front, meanwhile your cape was white with countless smaller stars decorating it’s entirety.

“Wow! Babe, you look… Wow!” He ogled, speeding over to you as his eyes took in your costumed appearance. He ignored your question, Wanda having to bug her brother once more for him to drag Tommy with him to make their matching Quicksilver costumes, their hair slicked up on the sides in an odd way.

Before you knew it the five of you were making your way down the street bustling with costumed kids. Pietro and Wanda were a couple steps ahead of you with the twins, you making the decision to take a minute to appreciate your domestic life while the siblings caught up.

“Unleash hell, demon spawn!” Pietro yelled as the twins went running off to fill their buckets with candy. You weren’t trying to eavesdrop, however you weren’t very far behind them and neither twin was making any effort to speak quietly.

“Do you remember when we were at the orphanage when mom and dad died?” She asked, the duo stopping to talk to each other in the middle of the busy road. While you didn’t intend to stop yourself, the sudden confusion that struck your mind left you no other choice.

Orphanage? Why would Peter have ever been in an orphanage when both his parents were still alive?  Wait, Peter? Where was all this coming from?

Suddenly your life was quite literally flashing before your eyes. Getting your powers, joining the Avengers, falling through the portal to another reality, meeting the X-Men… Oh, and Peter. Your relationship with Peter came back in moments, from your first meeting to the day he kissed you after you almost died on a mission. And how could you ever have forgotten your wedding day?! 

“Peter?” You asked out loud. Whether you were calling out to the man who you now remember to be your husband or questioning the memories that you had just regained you weren’t sure.

Your sudden comment caused Peter/Pietro to scoff in disbelief and furrow his brows, meanwhile Wanda’s expression darkened as her eyes glared daggers into your head. 

“Did you just call me Peter?” He asked incredulously, but his face quickly softened as he saw the fear in your eyes. You were utterly dumbfounded, How did you get back here? Last thing you remembered was being at the school, then all of a sudden you were living in some sit-com town.

“Why doesn’t he remember me? Wanda, what have you done?” Your voice wavered, your gaze shifting from Peter to Wanda, who would have already murdered you if looks could kill.

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” Her eyes flashed red, meanwhile Peter was standing there as if everything around him was completely normal.

“I think you do. Don’t make me do this, Wanda.” Your eyes began glowing as well. There was no way this would be ending well.

[scorpionyx9621]

Do you think Jason Todd fandom is kinda toxic? Because it seems like NO MATTER what DC do, there'll always be complains. Forget the bad adaptation like Titans. Even Judd Winick cannot escape the criticism with how he potrayed Robin!Jason. They just never satisfied.

SORRY, IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO RESPOND TO THIS. I just moved from Washington D.C. to Seattle, which, for my non-American friends, that's 4442km away. And I DROVE THERE ALL BY MYSELF. And now I'm trying to find new work in a new city and trying to stay mentally healthy and positive. Life is exciting but hard and scary.

*sighs*

As someone who was a fandom elder with V*ltr*n. I've seen some of the worst when it comes to fandom behavior. I'm talking people baking food with shaving razors and trying to give them to the showrunners. I'm talking leaking major plot details and refusing to take it down unless they make their ship canon (I am looking at you, Kl*nce stans) For the most part, DC Comics has had a decades-long reputation of treating their fans like trash and not caring what they think so from what I've seen, we all just grumble and complain in our corners of the internet about how we don't like how X comic portrays Jason Todd.

The challenge with Jason Todd is that he's your clinical anti-hero, the batfamily's Draco in Leather Pants, he's a jerkass woobie, and on top of all of that, he's a Tumblr sexyman. It's a perfect storm for a very fun but frustrating character to be a fan of. It doesn't help that every writer decides to re-invent the wheel every time Jason comes up so his canon lore is confusing at best and inconsistent as a standard.

I guess starting with a general brief on who Jason is and what is uniform about him with every instance he's appeared in comics/media.

Grew up in a poor family in Gotham with a dad who was a petty-mid-level criminal, and a mother who dies of a drug overdose.

Survives on the street on his own by committing petty crimes and potentially even engaging in sexual acts to keep himself alive.

Is cornered by Batman and taken in after Dick Grayson quits/is fired

Becomes the second Robin, but is known for being the harsher, more brutal Robin.

Is killed by Joker after being tortured, but somehow comes back to life and regains senses through the Lazarus Pit

Resolves himself to be better than Batman by basically being Batman but kills people.

Where there has been a lot of conflict in the fandom is the fact that Jason Todd is not a character that is written consistently. DC Comics loves to go with the narrative that Jason was "bad from the start" and was the "bad robin" when, yes, he has trouble controlling his anger, but he also still is just as invested in seeing the best of Gotham City and trying to be a positive change for the world as any other DC Comics hero.

Where I get frustrated with the fandom is its ability to knit-pick every detail of a comic they don't like while completely disregarding everything that makes the comics great and worth it to read. My example being Urban Legends. To which most people had pretty mixed reactions to. I was critical of the comic at first but as it went along I ended up really liking it. I have a feeling DC Comics went to Chip Zdarsky and told him he had 6 issues to bring Jason back into the Bat Family, and honestly he didn't do a bad job. Did it feel rushed? Absolutely. I wish there was more development of Jason and Bruce's characters and their dynamic as a whole. However, where I see a lot of people being angry and upset with Urban Legends is that they feel Zdarsky needlessly wrote Jason as an incompetent fool who needs Bruce to save him.

Whether or not that was the intention of Zdarsky is up to debate. However, and this may be controversial, but I don't think he wrote Jason Todd out of character at all. For as fearsome, intimidating, and awesome as Red Hood is. Jason is a character who is absolutely driven by his emotions. Why do you think he donned the role of Red Hood? As a response to his anger towards The Joker for killing him, and towards Bruce for not taking action against The Joker and for seemingly replacing him so quickly after he died. Jason didn't care about being the murderous Robin Hood or for being the bloody hammer of justice against N*zi's and P*d*ph*les. He only cared originally about making The Joker and Bruce pay. It wasn't until he trained under the best assassins in the world and realized most of them were horrific criminals who trafficked children and were p*dos that Talia began to realize that the teachers that she sent Jason to train under started dying horrific and painful deaths.

The entire story of the Cheer story in Batman Urban Legends was started because it finally forced some consequences upon Jason. Tyler, aka Blue Hood's father was a drug dealer who gave his supply to his wife and kids. And when Tyler's father admitted he gave the drugs to Tyler, it immediately made him fall within the self-imposed philosophical kill-list of Jason Todd. And Jason, well, he proceeds to kill Tyler's father. When this happens, Jason is in shock. Tyler's dad fit the bill to easily and justifiably be killed by Jason. We've never seen Jason having to deal with the consequences of being a murderous vigilante on a micro-level. When Jason realizes what he's done in that he's murdered Tyler's dad, he's shocked. He tells Babs the truth. He does a rational thing because he's in shock. He doesn't know what to do, he never has had to face the consequences of his actions as Red Hood and now the gravity of befriending a child as a vigilante hero who kills people just set in when he killed the father of the same child he was just introduced to.

(Oh here's a little aside because it had to be said, Jason would not have been a good father or a good mentor to Tyler and absolutely should not have been his new Robin. Jason is a man who is in his early 20's (not saying men in their early 20's can't be good fathers at all) who is a brutal serial killer using the guise of a vigilante anti-hero to let him escape most of the law. the complications of having the man who murdered your father adopt you and make you his sidekick are way too numerous for me to explain in a long-winded already heavy Tumblr essay post. There's a reason why we don't advocate for a story where Joe Chill adopted Bruce Wayne or one where Tony Zucco took in Dick Grayson.)

The next biggest argument is that they feel that Jason is giving up his guns as a means to just be invited back into the Bat-Family. To which I will tell anyone who has that argument to go actually read Urban Legends. Already have and still have that argument? Please re-read it. Don't want to? That's okay, I will paste the images from the comic where Jason specifically says that he doesn't want to give up his weapons for Bruce and his real reasoning down below since the comic isn't exactly readily accessible.

Jason gave up the guns because he felt the gravity of what he had done and knows how it'll effect Tyler. Thankfully his mom is alive and in recovery. But Tyler doesn't have a father anymore. And Jason killed Tyler's father. It may have been in accordance to Jason's philosophy, but it was a case where it blurred the lines. Jason Todd isn't a black and white character, just very dark gray. He doesn't kill aimlessly like the Joker. If you are on Jason's list you probably have done something pretty horrific, and also just in general, being in his way or being a threat to him. Mind you, in early days of Red Hood and the Outlaws (Image below) Jason almost killed 10 innocent civilians in a town in Colorado all because they saw him kill a monster. That being said, Jason isn't aimless in his kills.

(Also can we just take a moment to appreciate Kenneth Rocafort's art? DC Comics said we need to rehabilitate Jason Todd's image and Kenneth Rocafort said hold my beer: It's so SO GOOD)

That being said, the key emphasis in the story of Cheer asides from trying to introduce Jason Todd back into the Bat Family and give an actual purpose for him being there, other than him just kind of being there ala Bowser every time he shows up for Go Kart racing, Tennis, Golf, Soccer, and the Olympic games when Mario invites him, is that Jason and Bruce ultimately both want the same thing. Jason wants to be welcomed back into the family and to be loved and appreciated. Bruce want's Jason back as his son and wants to love and protect Jason. Both of these visions are shown in the last chapter of Cheer while under the effect of the Cheer Gas. It's ultimately this love and appreciation they both have for each other that helps them overcome their challenge and win.

Jason Todd is a character who, just like Bruce, has been through so much pain and so much hate in his life. The two are meant to parallel each other. While Bruce chose to see the best in everyone, giving every rogue in his gallery the option to be helped and give them a second chance, hence why he never kills, Jason has a similar view on wanting to protect the public, but he understands that some crimes are so heinous they cannot be forgiven, or that some habitual criminals are due to stay habitual criminals, and need to be put down. But at the end of the day, the two of them both try to protect people in their own ways.

I am aware that through the writings of various DC Comics authors such as Scott Lobdell and Judd Winick, the two have had a very tumultuous relationship. And rightfully so, I am by no means saying that Scott Lobdell writing an arc where Bruce literally beats Jason to within an inch of his life in Red Hood and the Outlaws, nor Judd Winick's interpretation of Under the Red Hood where Bruce throws the Batarang at Jason's neck, slicing his throat and leaving him ambiguously for dead at the end of the comic is appropriate considering DC Comics seems to be trying everything they can to integrate Jason back into the family. That being said, a lot of these writings have shaped the narrative of Jason and Bruce's relationship and have an integral effect on the way the fandom views the two. It doesn't help that Zdarsky acknowledged Lobdell's life-beating of Jason by Bruce at the very end of Cheer by having Bruce give Jason his old outfit back as a means of mending the fence between the two of them. That does complicate a lot of things in terms of how they are viewed by the fandom and helps to cause an even greater divide between the two.

Regardless, I want to emphasize the fact that Jason Todd is a part of the family of his own accord. Yes, he's quite snarky and deadpan in almost every encounter. However, Jason is absolutely a part of the family and has been for a while of his own will. There's a great moment in Detective Comics that emphasizes this. Jason cares about his family because it is his found family. Yes, they may be warry about him and use him as a punching back and/or heckle him. At the end of the day, we're debating the family dynamics of a fictional playboy billionaire vigilante whose kleptomania took the form of adopting troubled children and turning them into vigilante heroes. Jason Todd wants a family that will love and support him. This is a key definition of his character at its most basic. This was proven during the events of Cheer and is being reenforced by DC Comics every time they get the opportunity to do so.

Now, none of this is to say that I hate Judd Winick. I do not, I don't like the fact that in all of his writings of Jason, he just writes him as a dangerous psychopath, and Winick himself admits to seeing Jason as nothing much more than a psychopath. Yet Winick is the one who the majority of the fandom clings to as the one true good writer of Jason Todd because 'Jason was competent, dangerous, smart' Listen, friends, Jason is all of that and I will never deny it. However, what I love about Jason isn't that he's dangerously smart of that writers either write him as angsty angry Tumblr sexyman bait or that they write him as an infantile man child with a gun. There's a large contention of this fandom that has an obsession with Jason Todd being this vigilante gunman who is hot and sexy and while I definitely get the appeal. It is very creepy and downright disturbing that all of you hyperfixate on his use of guns and ability to be a murderer. It is creepy and I'm not necessarily here for it.

What I love about Jason Todd is that despite all of the pain, all of the heartache, all of the betrayal, and bullying, and death, and anguish. Jason Todd is one of the most loving and supportive characters in all of DC Comics. Jason has been through so much in his life, but he still chooses to love. He still chooses to see the bright side in people. Yes, he takes a utilitarian approach and chooses to kill certain villains, but at the end of the day he wants to see a better world, and he wants to be loved. It takes so much courage and so much heart to learn to love again after one has been abused or traumatized. I would not blame Jason at all if he said fuck it and just went full solo and vigilante evil. He has every right to, but he still chooses to be with the Bat Family of his own accord. That's something that I see a lot of in myself. I have been through a lot of trauma and yet I try to be a better person myself in any way that I can. It is extremely admirable of Jason to allow love back into his heart when he really doesn't need to. He kills and he protects because he has this love of society. It may have been shaped by anger and hatred, but Jason has found his place amongst people who love him and value him. I think Ducra, from Red Hood and the Outlaws put it best in the image given below.

To end this tangent, I love Jason Todd and all of his sexy dangerousness, but it's far more than that. As much as Jason may be dangerous and snarky, he loves his family without a shadow of a doubt. I look up to Jason Todd because despite all of his pain and all of his trauma, he still choses to love. Jason Todd is a character who is someone I love because despite all of his flaws and having a very toxic fandom, he still serves as a character filled with so much heart and so much passion. I wish more writers would understand that. But for now I will live with what I have. Even though the fandom may be vocal about it's hatred for his characterization, I choose to love Jason regardless because he is a character who chooses love and acceptance regardless of his pain. Jason Todd is by no means a good person in any sense of the word. He has easily killed upwards of 100 people by now. He is a character who is flawed and complex but ultimately is one who powers forwards and finds love and heart in a place from so much pain and anguish. That is what I love about Jason Todd. After all, to quote a famous undead robot superhero, "What is grief, if not love persevering?" Jason Todd chooses to love despite all of the trauma and pain and grief. Yes, he is hardened in his exterior, but inside there is a man with a lot of love to give and someone who deserves the world in my eyes.

[tharros-auris-black-asimi]

Lay All Your Love on Me (Chapter 6)

Pairing: Soft!Dark!Lee Bodecker x Female Reader

Summary: After moving to Knockemstiff, Ohio with your troubled parents, you find solace in the local Seven-Eleven. There, you bump into the Alpha sheriff, Lee Bodecker.

And then you keep bumping into him. There’s just something about that chubby Alpha that keeps drawing you in. Now there’s something going on with the new preacher of the church that you attend. Everything’s a mess.

But you’re an unbonded Omega. Life can turn to shit anyway.

Chapter Warnings: ABO dynamics, age gap (Reader is nineteen while Lee is in his late twenties/early thirties), religious themes, scenting, explicit language. This chapter has loss of virginity, the Pepsi cup scene, car sex, and possessive behavior. Some gun training for Lee.

Word Count: 7,385 words

Author's Note: I literally spent like 10 minutes having a complete and utter frigging meltdown to try and get the "read more" line under here, but I couldn't do it so... sucks to be me, I guess. This is literally going to haunt me for the rest of the day so... yeah. Have fun reading guys.

Additional Notes: So... while having my meltdown, I didn't realize I didn't add a fucking title so that shit's also on me. Call it rushing, lol.

A couple of nights later, back in Knockemstiff with Lee and you…

Footsteps. The front door opening and closing.

That was what slowly woke you up from your nap from where you had been sleeping in Lee’s room. The older Alpha said you could sleep in any room- he had two guest bedrooms after all. He didn’t mind where you were deciding to sleep. But your Omega, oh your Omega. She had whispered to you after Lee told you that he’d be going out for a bit and after he had kissed you on the top of your head, told you he’d be coming back. Then he left. She had told you to head into Lee’s room.

And you had.

The first thing that had struck you was how it just much smelled so much like Lee. It screamed Lee.

His scent was everywhere. The only thing that filled your nose, surrounded you, made you feel like you were wrapped up in a warm blanket was the scent of chocolate and bourbon.

The first thing that you had done was take a shower. Pull some of Lee’s clothes on you, because you didn’t have anything else. Anything to get your father’s scent off of you.

Besides, now with your marked gland, you felt like it was on fire earlier when you had spotted Lee’s clothes. Almost like you and your Omega, you and your designation needed to smell like your Alpha.

Our Alpha, your Omega had whispered in your ear.

Our Alpha now.

It was almost surreal.

You slowly rose up from Lee’s bed, still sleepy. You almost didn’t want to open your eyes. You could hear the familiar footsteps of Lee walking through and down the hallway towards his room.

The door creaked open.

Lee wasn’t surprised to see you in his bed. You were still very sleepy, even debating if you should go back to sleep. You really were tired of all that you had done earlier. Cleaning his house, from top to bottom. You had asked your Bondmate earlier if you could clean. Lee was someone who needed everything to be clean. A fickle Alpha. He had started cleaning more ever since he had met you. Beer cans and bottles had been thrown out. Floors mopped. Rugs cleaned. Countertops too. Walls had been dusted. If Lee hadn’t known any better, he might’ve even second-guessed that this wasn’t even his house.

But nope.

It was his house.

He almost felt like his home was more his home than ever, with you and your mom in his house.

“How’re you doin’, Mega?” His voice was gentle as he made his way towards his bed. You let out a yawn. “M’ tired,” your voice was thick with sleep. Through sleepy eyes, you sorta registered Lee taking off his uniform, sort of hearing him climb into bed. You felt him wrap his arms around you, the scent of chocolate and bourbon filling your nose. You even felt his skin against the fabric of your nightgown. His tongue flattened against your gland, and you melted.

Your nose nuzzled against his neck. Against his gland. A low purr rumbling through your chest. Your Omega was slowly waking up, purring at the sight of her Alpha.

Alpha. Alpha ours.

Through the murky, cotton candy headspace that made your head spin, you could feel one of Lee’s hands travel down, all the way down. Your breath hitched.

“Daddy…” your voice was still thick with sleep. A low buzzing noise echoing in your head.

“S’ alright, Mega. You keep those eyes closed. Just relax. Daddy’s gonna take care a ya. Be a good girl for daddy. Can ya do that, babydoll? Be a good babydoll for daddy?”

Nods.

Nods were coming from you as you started to slip back into that fuzzy, warm headspace. “Yeah… yeah, daddy…” was all that came from you. Lee was slipping his fingers inside you, spreading your pussy open. A low whine filled the room when you felt one of his thick fingers slip in. Making a slick noise echo in the empty room.

You nearly choked on Lee’s fingers when he slipped them in your mouth without warning.

“Keep your voice down. Ya mama’s sleepin’ in the next room, don’t cha remember? Or do ya wanna wake ya mama with how loud my Mega’ gets for me?”

You began to shake your head.

To not prove his point, you kept his fingers in your mouth. Biting down on his fingers as another finger slipped into your wet pussy. Your daddy groaning deeply in your ear, almost rumbling. His pace had started slow. But slowly, the rhythm became faster. The sounds of wet slick noisily echoing in the quiet bedroom.

Drool was coming out of your mouth. Dribbling out at the sides of your mouth. Down your daddy’s thick fingers. You were trying oh so hard to not make noise. Lips wrapped around his fingers, sucking as your pussy grinded onto the palm of your Alpha’s hand, creating more friction. The palm of his head brushed against your clit, giving you even more stimulation. All the while his fingers were trying to find your g-spot. Retracting his fingers out of your slopping cunt, you sucked on his fingers harder, trying to tell him not to stop. Your eyes even watered.

A shake of your head told him that you didn’t want him to stop.

Your body shuddered when Lee let out a dark chuckle. It spread all the way down your spine. Your back might’ve even started to arch up.

You bit down on his fingers hard when his fingers slammed back into you without warning. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Lee’s fingers plunged in deeper and deeper in your pussy, more slick trickling down his hand, to his arm. Your hips were moving up and down, bouncing on his fingers. When his fingers brushed right up against your g-spot, you were cumming. You swore you saw something in your vision. Your pussy didn’t stop throbbing, you didn’t stop moving your hips, or grinding down onto the palm of his hand until you had ridden out your orgasm. Only when Lee pulled out his fingers from your mouth did you stop.

“Such a needy little baby,” Lee’s voice was rough against your ear, making your pussy throb around his fingers that were still inside you. “Always need ya holes filled, don’t cha?”

All you could do was nod.

“Want it, Lee.” Your voice was slightly slurred together due to the amount of saliva that was still in your mouth. And because his fingers were still shoved in your mouth. “Want your cock daddy. M’ please. M’ ready.” To prove your own point, you even bucked your hips against his. Feeling that skin-on-skin contact. You could feel his hard cock against your pussy. Your dripping slick dripping onto his pelvis. You could tell he was hard.

And it wasn’t like you were speaking right through your teeth.

Your slick was running everywhere.

Your gland was on fire.

At least it felt like it.

You didn’t dare touch it, because you just so fucking turned on. His scent was enveloping you. Telling you that he wanted this, too.

One of his hands fell to your shoulder, gripping it.

“Ya sure? This whatcha want? My lil Omega wants to be full, huh? Wants to be full with her Alpha?” Lee’s breath tickled the side of your neck, making you shudder deeply. Your Omega was gleeful. You imagined her bouncing around in her cage in delight.

Your Omega couldn’t put into words, how good she was feeling in this moment.

Gleeful probably couldn’t describe the feeling either.

But finally.

Finally.

She was going to witness her Alpha take her.

“Turn over. On your stomach.”

Unlike most times that you had been with Lee, it was different this time when he spoke. He wasn’t just talking to you. He wasn’t just talking to you, speaking to you gently. Like he always did. There was a note of tenderness in his voice when he spoke to you. Like you were a fragile porcelain doll that needed to be treated with the utmost care. You heard a slick popping noise, and a soft little whine filled the room when your pussy clenched around nothing. Your eyes might’ve even watered a bit too at the realization.

“I told ya, Babydoll. No noises.”

There it was again.

Lee was talking to you. But he wasn’t being gentle. It made your back straighten up. Your Omega preen.

Because when Lee Bodecker was talking like that… using his Tone… well, how could you not listen?

Your whines quieted. Now, now, you were awake. Your mind was sharp. Your Omega was sighing in the most utter bliss.

Finally. Finally, she would be getting what she demanded. This Alpha, her Alpha, the Alpha that had bitten her neck, the Alpha that brought her home, that her Alpha would be the one to lay claim to her body. To fuck it. To breed it. She already wore his mark on her neck with pride. Having his pups… it would complete it. She would get her Pack with her Alpha. The Alpha that she had chosen herself. On her terms. No one else’s. No one had forced her to choose this Alpha. She had done it herself.

Oh boy, did that give her pleasure. Her pleasure was heightened when your fists gripped his bedsheets, hearing Lee’s sharp intake of breath. All he could smell was you. The scent of freshly baked cookies wafted up to his nose. It was nothing compared to his tummy pressing down gently on your back, making your back arch up.

Your breath caught in your throat when you felt the tip of his cock poking against, slipping inside your slippery pussy lips, coating it with your slick. Making it all wet. You felt the burning feeling erupt in your belly as your vaginal walls stretched out for his cock.

Inch by inch, he rocked against you. His hands holding your shoulders down onto the mattress firmly. You were breathing against the pillow, eyes glassed over in pure bliss.

“Daddy,” your voice was muffled because of the pillow, “more.”

Through the past couple of nights, you had asked. Over and over. At first, Lee had laughed a bit, saying things like “are ya sure,” or “don’t wanna hurt cha, babydoll. I don’t think ya can handle it.”

Words and phrases that made your Omega stir. Albeit a little angrily.

Now though, she was happy. Practically bouncing around carefree in her cage in the confines of your mind.

Lee’s hand traveled down, all the way down to your clit. Rubbing your clit with one hand as his other hand rose up, to slip into the collar of your dress, down to cup a breast. His thumb grazing over a nipple until it was hard as a pebble. Your pillow muffled the noises of pleasure. Your back arched. Your hips moved slightly.

Every rock of his hips against your backside made you gasp. Every rub against your clit made you squirm. Feeling the pressure building up in your belly. But you were remaining cautious.

All because you didn’t want to wake up your mother next door.

The things you did for your Alpha.

It was when he was halfway in did he hear the whimpers.

“Daddy, ‘s too much, can’t- can’t take it-” you were sobbing into the pillow.

“C’mon babydoll. M’ only halfway in and you’re already whimperin’ so sweet. You’re daddy’s good girl. You can take it. You’re my good girl, aren’t cha babydoll?” Lee’s voice was gruff. But it was pouring into your ears like honey. The pain of his cock stretching you open was the number one thing you could feel. His hands, gripping your hips. Grinding his cock into your pussy. His rubbing at your clit became harder, quicker. Your whimpers were beginning to rise again as you felt your impending orgasm coming.

“Lee,” your voice was muffled by your pillow, “please, m’ gonna- m’ gonna-”

“I know Mega,” he grunted in your ear, making you nearly choke, “s’ okay. Let go babydoll.”

A muffled cry filled the room.

Lee chose that moment to fully sink in, break that final barrier that was keeping him back. A deep, choked noise came from you at the strange sensation. Tears even sprung in your eyes at the feeling. For a moment, Lee could feel it. Your pain. A hand rose up from your breast to your hair, to tug it gently. “It’s okay,” his voice gentle, almost soothing your tears, “just relax. It’ll be okay.”

In and out. In and out. Taking deep breaths. Lee saw your body moving up and down as you tried to get used to him fully inside of you. You felt like a freaking stuffed turkey at Thanksgiving. Never had you ever been filled this good, this deep before.

It was kind of an unusual feeling. After a couple of more deep breaths, and Lee saw through the dark, your form beginning to relax. He took the initiative to move.

His thrusts were slow. Gentle. He was out of you, an inch, two inches at the max. He never truly left you.

The pain was something you weren’t used to. Your vaginal walls clenched around his dick tightly. It made Lee’s eyes roll into the back of his head. The more he thrusted in you, the more the pain lessened. It began to hurt a little less. Soft kisses were placed down from the back of your neck, down your spine. It made your back arch up.

“Daddy,” your voice was muffled from the pillow, “more, more, more.” Your hips adjusted. Your ass even wiggled.

“Took me so well, Mega. Such a good Omega.” His praise was hushed in your ear. Your Omega, oh your Omega. She couldn’t be any happier. She was still happily bouncing around in glee.

Alpha calls us a good Omega. We’re a good Omega.

There was a part of Lee. A part of Lee who wanted nothing more than to just take and take and take in between your thighs, even if you cried out for him to stop. That part of him that just wanted it. A part of him that would never be satisfied.

Like now.

He could hear that inner voice, telling him, urging him on. To take this Omega that was underneath him that was purring so sweet. And he wanted to. Oh dear god, heavens above, hand on the Bible, god’s green motherfucking earth, did he want to. He wanted to.

But that restraint.

He needed to be restrained.

Almost like he was playing a game of tug-of-war with himself.

He could lose control just as easily and wake up your mother and his neighbors.

However, he didn’t.

Until…

“Daddy,” your voice was breathy and muffled. Your ass wiggling against his front. Your head went up, enough to gulp in some air. “Harder. More.”

A sharp thrust made your face smack right back into the bed. You heard the popping of buttons. Suddenly, Lee was shoving your nightgown up, bunching it together at your waist. His teeth sank into your gland. Your second orgasm of the night rushed through you like a wire being cut. You came so hard around his dick, your walls clenching down on him, gripping his cock so tightly that Lee almost cursed out loud.

“Bite me Omega,” Lee breathed out against your neck. When you eventually turned your head up, your mind was still foggy. Mind still swimming, you kinda saw Lee putting his neck out down towards you. Your fingertips brushed over his Mating Gland. When you lowered your head down, your tongue flattening down against the corded muscle, you felt his hips stuttering against yours.

And then your teeth sank in.

Breaking the skin.

When your teeth pierced, broke the skin, Lee felt the bond complete.

You tasted blood. The taste of copper on your mouth. You had been so surprised.

It was as if someone had snapped a rubber band on Lee. You felt the bond complete. Like you had been made whole.

Lee had come so hard that his body jerked. You whimpered, out loud when you felt it. He spilled his seed, coating the insides of your cunt.

Deep, hollowing breaths slowly filled the room as Lee slumped beside you. Feeling that skin-on-skin contact.

Your voice was thick when he heard it.

“Welcome home, daddy.”

A couple of days later…

Being mated was weird.

You were mated.

Fully mated.

You had Lee’s mark. He had yours. You were his Omega now.

Officially.

It was… strange.

You had noticed Lee’s mark on you for a few weeks before you had lost your virginity to him. Completely gave yourself over to him. Mind, body, and soul. Popped your cherry. You knew that you weren’t his first.

But something that Lee never told you was, well, he had never been with a virgin before. Cause sure, he had been a virgin once. Inexperienced. Not like how he was now. And before you had shown up in his life, all he knew were prostitutes.

That weird fog that had surrounded Lee until he had come home to you in the early mornings was gone. Everyone knew and could see the difference in the sheriff. Lee was happier. Less grumpy. Ate fewer sweets and smoked less. There seemed to be an ease to him now. Not quite a pep in his step. Oh no. He would never admit to that shit.

But his mark on his Mating Gland on his neck, oh he showed that proudly. Your bite on his neck. He showed the hell outta that. Proudly. He was so proud. He finally had a Bondmate. You were his Bondmate. He was your Bondmate. It was as if everything had come full circle. For once, he felt complete. Oddly happier than he had for the first time in a long time.

However, all of that good mood soured when he went to go into the cells, to check up on your father.

He had been in such a good mood before he had realized that he still needed to check up on your father.

The report.

Right.

Right, right, right.

The stupid report.

A scowl came onto Lee’s lips as he remembered.

With a sigh, he got from his chair. Grabbing his leather jacket that had been hanging on his chair, slipping it over him.

It still smelled like you.

A small little smile spread over his lips at that. He could smell your lingering scent of freshly made chocolate chip cookies. Somewhere in him, his Alpha rumbled at the reminder at he’d always be carrying a piece of you at work.

Down to the beasts he went.

Much later that morning, at the Bodecker residence, with you…

Your mother was out.

Gone to see and greet the neighbors in the neighborhood.

You highly suspected that your mother wanted to make fun with everyone since you hadn’t.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like your new neighbors. It was just that you could hear the things that they had said about you. You knew that if anyone spoke an ill word against you… well, they’d have your Daddy to deal with. Your Alpha would set them straight. But that wasn’t what bothered you. You didn’t need Lee to put them in their place.

It was just… these past couple of days. It seemed to be going by fast for you. Too fast. You had been recently bonded, yes. But with everything… would you be okay? How were you just hanging on by now? Were you hanging by a thread? Was that all that you were doing now?

Cause it wasn’t like you didn’t love Lee.

You did.

Your love for him wasn’t something you could show like normal people. You weren’t like one of those babes that you would see at dance halls with their girlfriends, all giggly. That wasn’t you anymore.

No.

No.

No.

You were different now.

You were a Bondmate now.

Now… now you had more responsibilities. But you couldn’t help but wonder. If you grew old with him and got ugly, would he still want you? Someone like you? If you had pups with him and got fat, would he still want you?

Those thoughts polluted your mind and distracted you to the point of crying. You had been so busy crying in your shared room that you hadn’t even noticed Lee coming through the front door. The front door locked behind him as Lee walked down the hall towards his room, still fuming.

The visit to your father hadn’t gone well. He had finished writing up the report, however. So at least he could take out his anger on something. His anger loosened when he heard the sounds of crying.

You were crying.

His footsteps came quicker.

By the time he got the door opened, it was too late.

“Mega?” Lee sounded very worried.

“Daddy,” your voice was raspy as you managed to turn your head to look at him. Tears were streaming down your face. Not to mention, the makeup that you had applied earlier this morning had been ruined.

Absolutely ruined.

Mascara had been running down in dark streaks on your cheeks. Your lipstick was still on though. Perfectly painted. But your bottom lip was quivering. Trembling as sobs wracked your body. Your hands were gripping your dress. On your knees, kneeling in front of him looking like an absolute trainwreck.

“What’s wrong, Omega?” Lee asked you again as he walked in front of you, getting down on his knees to pull you close to him. All that succeeded into was you crying even harder. “It’s all my fault,” you sobbed, “s all my fault. I’m a terrible Omega. I’m a terrible Bondmate. Why do you want me? You should just let go. Put me back. Put me back in the cells, please. Just put me back.”

Lee was gobsmacked.

Oh no.

No, no, no.

Noooo.

No.

Nope.

He was not about to do that. You were still blabbering though. He needed to bring you back.

“Mega.”

No answer.

“Omega.”

Still no answer.

He even spoke your name.

And nope.

“Babydoll.”

You had stopped moving. Your jerky movements coming to stop. You froze like a deer in headlights.

He hadn’t wanted to use his Tone. He really hadn’t. But looking at your face, seeing the tears and the smeared mascara all over your cheeks, it was what had to be done. You had stopped being in hysterics, but you were still shaking like a leaf. It ate him on the inside, what was happening in front of him.

“Eyes on me.”

Up went your eyes. They were still shiny. Wet.

“Who did this to you, huh? Who made you cry, angel baby?” His words flowed into your ears like thick syrup. Making your brain feel all fuzzy. Your tummy warm. Like you were almost drunk. “M’ daddy… he called me a… called me a harlot when we was in the kitchen before we both got arrested… don’t wanna… don’t wanna be ugly for you… wanna be pretty… wanna be pretty for ya, daddy…” you still weren’t crying, but you were feeling the emotions kicking in again. Very high.

Lee clutched you harder. Running his tongue against your mating gland, before sinking his teeth into that corded muscle, making you gasp against him. Your cry being muffled from your head being buried in his shoulder. Your body jolted at the sensation, your hands coming up to grab and tug at his dark hair.

He licked his canine teeth. Tasting your blood. The taste of copper filling his mouth. But he didn’t care. You shook in his arms before you managed to gauze your head back up.

“Daddy?”

Never had your voice ever been this soft before.

And then he was picking you up. Bridal style. Hoisting you over, your arms wrapped around his neck.

“Daddy? Where are we goin’?” You asked him again. Lee’s lips conformed into a line. His gears in his mind turning. He was thinking, as he always was.

“Out.”

Out, according to Lee was making sure you had thoroughly washed your face, blew your nose, smoothed down your dress, put on a jacket, and after Lee had come back down from the basement holding a shotgun, you two were back in his cruiser and driving out to god knows where.

The car ride had been silent all the way through.

But you could tell from your mate, from the way his scent was twisting and changing, that something was lingering under the surface. Like a darkness slowly creeping. Bubbling up to the surface.

You watched the streets. Watched the people. You two even drove through the downtown area. Although it was small, you still watched. You could smell food through the cracked, open, rolled-down window. It reminded you of Emma’s house back in Coal Creek, with Arvin, Lenora, and your mother. Your chest grew heavy. You missed them. Were they okay? Were they alright?

You made a mental note to visit them soon. After all, next week was your visit.

Just then, the car stopped. You heard Lee turn off the engine. You turned your gaze towards him.

“C’mon Mega.”

Following him deep into the woods, you were looking around. The sun hadn’t set yet, and all you could hear were the chirping of birds. You could hear the leaves crunching underneath your kitten heels. You were thinking, maybe, just maybe, you should’ve switched out your clothes. You also noticed Lee was holding a bag that was full of something.

Clunk. Clunk. Clunk.

Those sounded like beer cans. Were those beer cans?

“Lee… what’re we doing here?”

You saw Lee walking up to you, handing you the shotgun. You were confused. If anything, you were convinced that Lee was scouting for something. So he wasn’t using it. Why was he giving it to you, then?

“Target practice, babydoll. I was thinkin’ earlier this mornin’, with everything that’s happened with ya daddy…” he didn’t miss the look that you gave him. That look of pure, almost horrifying fear at the mention of him. It made his veins hot and the urge to strangle your father was back. That greedy part of him that was telling him to just get it over with, to just kill again so all of your problems could be solved was slowly returning.

Focus.

He needed to focus. Still looking at you, he continued to speak. “I know you did a number on him with ya cast-iron skillet and m’ proud of that for ya, Mega. My strong Omega.” He didn’t miss the way your cheeks colored at the praise either. A smirk was curling its way onto his lips. He couldn’t help it. At this rate, he would be half-hard. “But ya ain’t always gonna have a cast-iron skillet lyin’ around. I would teach ya how ta use a knife, but I’m not as good with knives as the deputies are. One of em specializes in usin’ knives and shit. So all I can teach ya are how to use a shotgun.”

You were nodding.

It made sense.

Still, you felt like you needed to ask…

“So… do you have a collection of guns I don’t know bout?” A wry smile was on your face. Lee chuckled. It was a deep one, one he could feel in his belly. You noticed how his belly shook when he laughed.

There was the Lee you knew.

“A sheriff never reveals his secrets, babydoll.” was all that Lee replied to you with. Handing you the shotgun, Lee began to pull some of the old beer cans out. Watching him set it up as your gaze lowered down to the shotgun. The barrel was long. Probably as long as your arm. Maybe even a bit longer. There was something behind the trigger. You didn’t know what it was. You at least knew where the trigger was, at least.

“What’s this, Lee?”

You were gesturing to the thing behind the trigger.

“Recoil pad,” Lee answered you, finishing up setting up the last beer can a couple of feet away from you. “Helps ya shoot more accurately.”

A nod came from you. Saying that you got it.

“Okay… so here’s what I want you to do… you hold it like this,” Lee helped you grip the shotgun, placing your hand that you were going to use to pull the trigger along the side of the stock wrist. Making your cheek brush up against your cheek. Your eyes at the same level of the barrel. Index finer placed directly on the trigger, Lee gently told you to wrap the rest of your hand on the wrist.

“Not too tight… not too loose either… good job Mega.”

Your Omega preened at the praise once again. Happily bouncing around in glee. It was the happiest the bitch had been in weeks. You couldn’t blame her all that much. If it was you in her shoes, then fuck you’d be so fucking happy too. So could you really blame her?

Not really.

“Okay… shoulders bared… keep your feet apart… mhmm. I want you to look at those cans. You see those cans, Mega? Good. I want cha to shoot at em.”

You gave him another nod.

“Aim for the center. Pull the trigger and then shoot.”

Arm upright. The butt of the gun lodged in your shoulder pocket. Nicely tucked. Your eyes forward.

“Lee… what happens if I can’t pull the trigger?” Your voice came out a little shaky.

“Then just think of your dad.”

When your finger pulled the trigger, the first thing you heard was the ringing in your ears. The smell of gunpowder filling your nose. The gunpowder even exploded and some scattered onto the collar of your dress.

The first shot landed smack-dab right in the center, knocking the beer can back. Then Lee told you to move, adjust your footing.

“Shoot again.”

Another shot rang out. The sounds of the beer can clanking back rung in your ears.

And then you did it again.

Another beer can smacking backward with a thunk.

“Three more beer cans left. You got four more bullets in there. We’ll pick em up after you’re done, okay?” Lee’s voice brought you back. Taking in a deep breath and exhaling, you gave him a nod.

“Okay.”

“Good. Keep going.”

Another nod.

One more shot rang out.

You heard the thunk of the beer can flying back.

Turning your head, eyes narrowing, you aimed.

Bang.

Another clunk.

Two down, one more to go.

The last shot rang out and you heard one last clang.

Slowly lowering the gun, you asked him, “How’d I do?”

You felt a warm pair of arms wrap around you from behind. A gentle rumble erupted from Lee’s chest. Unlike the first time you met, this rumble wasn’t to calm down frantic Omegas.

This one was different.

This one was for Mates.

Your head lolled to the side, leaning into his neck with a dreamy sigh.

“Perfect, babydoll.” Your mate said. “You were perfect.”

The entire mood shifted when you two had gotten back into the car.

Loud slurps of you drinking your slushie were heard. Lee’s own empty cup sat on the dashboard. Happily slurping away at your cherry and blueberry mixture, you didn’t notice Lee’s jaw clench.

Only when you finished your slushie, putting it on the dashboard, did you see Lee’s controlled look. A frown made its way onto your features.

“Lee?”

Your voice was gentle. It almost made the dark, violent thoughts running through his head okay. He almost felt like he wasn’t sinking into that dark place for a second.

“Yeah, Omega?”

The two of you were at the next town over. Your head perched on his shoulder, you still looked at him. Frowning. When Lee looked at you and saw that frown, well, he started to frown too.

He didn’t like that frown on your face.

“Are you okay? Do you need me to calm you down? You want me to touch you?” You asked him. Lee swallowed. You could see his Adam’s apple bob. “You don’t have to,” he replied quietly. Undeterred, you shook your head. Your hand traveled down. There was a popping noise. A hiss came from Lee when your hand sank into his pants, fisting his cock with your hand.

“Shit, babydoll,” hissed Lee, his eyes rolling into the back of his head with a deep guttural groan. It sounded almost like a deep rumble from his chest.

“You- you don’t… you don’t have to,” he grunted. Again, you shook your head.

“I don’t have to. But I want to.”

Lee swore he nearly came in his pants at that. A little whimper left him when you pulled your hand out of his pants, both of your hands coming down to undo his belt. Unzipping his fly. He watched you do one of the filthiest things he ever saw in his life. You spit into your hand, a slick echoing through the cruiser. A deep growl came from Lee’s chest. His growl turned into a moan when your spit-covered hand gripped his cock again. All slicked up to take his dick. This time, you weren’t fearful or scared. Timid if you had done something wrong.

No.

This time, when you stroked him, you did it with a clear mind and you probably looked like you had your war face on. Up and down went your hand. All the way from his shaft down the tip of his cock that was red and smeared with pre-cum. You slowly built a rhythm, all the while your pussy throbbed. Your panties growing damper with each stroke of his dick.

Lee couldn’t help himself. Moans, grunts, and whimpers slowly filled the cruiser. A shuddering breath even left him when you squeezed his cock a little. His lips trembled.

“Jesus… shit…” was all that left him.

“I’m your Omega, daddy. It’s my job to balance you out, you know? You don’t need to hide shit from me, okay Lee? I can handle it.” Your words flowed into his ears.

Lee allowed that to sink in.

Shallow, then deep breaths came from him.

He couldn’t almost believe it.

Was this the universe’s way of telling him that they weren’t going to punish him anymore? That he could actually breathe for once? That he actually had someone who understood him? Him and his whole entire goddamn motherfucking package of shit that he carried with him on a day-to-day basis?

He really fucking hoped so.

“O-Okay.” His words might’ve come out a little staggered, a little breathy. Like he needed to believe it himself. A harsh pump made him hiss.

But up and down your hands went. Pumping his dick with the palm of your hand.

“Okay. Glad we get each other, Daddy.”

Pump. Pump. Pump.

“Daddy… you got somethin’? For ya jizz? Or else I’ma just catch it all with my hands…” you trailed off. Not that you weren’t unhappy with catching all of his jizz in your hands. In fact, it was quite the opposite. You were really thinking about that other night in his office, where you had caught all of his cum in your hands. Just the thought made the burning heat in between your legs freaking worse.

Terrible.

He was terrible.

You were probably turning out to be like a fiend now.

“Uh-huh… yeah… think I…” he was cut off with his own grunt, “I got something… in here…” There was shuffling as Lee tried his best to bend down a little. Fumbling around, you heard him grab something.

“Alright, I- shit,” Lee swore. You couldn’t help the smile that was creeping on your face.

“You got it?” Your tone was full of amusement.

“Yeah,” grunted Lee. Humming, you continued your merry task of giving your Alpha a hand job.

Beads of sweat were rolling down Lee’s temples. You could feel his balls tightening, signaling that he was getting close. “C’mon Lee. Daddy. It’s okay. Let go.”

He came with a grunt. Ejaculate spilling all over your hand and into whatever he had found.

Panting, “You got it all in the cup?”

Cup?

“Y-Yeah… and all over my hand too… whatcha wanna do with the cup?” You asked him. “We can throw it out later,” Lee replied back to him. Frowning. Thinking about it. A thought crossed your mind. “Or… I can drink it? I don’t wanna… waste it.”

Something inside Lee snapped. All of a sudden, your back smacked against the door. It made you gasp.

“Lee!”

You sounded very scandalized. Your mate paid no mind, shoving the skirt of your dress up, his hands, his huge hands finding your panties underneath all of your skirts, pulling and tugging them to the side until they ripped. A hand gripping his half-hard erection, he thrust into you without warning.

You cried out at the sensation. Your head falling back against the window. You saw him take off his leather jacket, shrugging it off to the floor, and then his shirt followed. He managed to shove his pants and boxer briefs down to the floor, kicking them off.

His hands came to grip your still-clothed shoulders. Almost immediately, he started pounding into you.

You had been so taken aback that all you could do was take it. Take all that he was giving you. Not that it didn’t feel good. It felt really, really good. Cries of pleasure filling up the cruiser were heard pretty quickly. Lee’s balls smacking against your clit with every single time he bottomed out of you.

Lee swore he could almost feel as if he was in some sort of heaven. Your nonvirgin body squeezed him for everything he was worth. Slick and his seed smeared on your inner thighs, making them all sticky. His thrusts were so powerful that they were sending your head back against the window. Not necessarily smacking it, but you just couldn’t move.

You came screaming.

Yes, screaming.

Your orgasm had rushed over you so quickly you barely realized it had come. Lee hissed and grunted when he felt your walls milking the hell out of him. He still could remember when he took you last night. How tight you had been. Your vaginal walls had gripped his dick so fucking hard that he swore he was in heaven. Like he had fallen into a piece of heaven. It would be worth it just so Lee could get a taste of what the angels would sing about. He knew his soul was damned and that he’d probably be heading straight into hell, and without a doubt, you’d probably be going down with him. But he’d risk it all, just to stay in this piece of heaven for as long as he could.

He continued to thrust into you. Pound into you. Wet, squishing noises coming from your pussy as he took you. His cock was nearly splitting your vagina in half by how hard he was taking you. At this rate, your second orgasm would be coming quicker than you thought.

Which, you were.

Your mouth dropped open in a silent moan as your second orgasm piggybacked off of your first one, your legs trembling and shaking as you came around his dick again. Lee fucked you through it, swearing in your ear. Praising you. Calling you his good Omega.

His wet mouth dipped down to your mating gland. And his teeth sank into your neck, biting you again.

And then he came. You sobbed out.

You were asleep.

Lee knew your mother was asleep too because he had just checked up on her an hour ago. Your nightgown clung to your body, the nearly transparent fabric falling over your body like a sleeve. From where Lee was stroking your nipples with his thumb, he could feel your nipples harden underneath the pads of his fingertips. The only light that surrounded his room was the dim light of his night lamp.

Soft breathing came from you as you breathed through your nose. Your chest rising up and down as you slept.

For once in his life, Lee was oddly at peace.

Everything was quiet.

It was as if he could breathe again. Like there were no toxic things in his life. Your lovely, sweet scent of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, with a slight undertone of his own scent of chocolate and bourbon, filled the air.

His.

You were his now.

Suddenly, he heard a car pulling into his driveway. It made him stop what he was doing. His Alpha stirred, sensing that something was happening. Being dressed in only a pair of boxers, he had to slip on a pair of pants and a loose shirt that barely had any of his scent left, due to you rubbing it into his bedsheets.

He really needed to invest in nest bedding now that you were his Omega.

And then he heard knocking.

To make matters worse, you had begun to stir. Soft noises came from you.

“… addy… what’s happenin’?” your voice was full of sleep. Your eyes still weren’t open yet. A soft groan came from you as the knocking on his front door became louder. Another groan came from you.

“Daddy… tell em to go away… tell em to shut up… I need my sleep…”

And he was really thinking along those same lines too.

Something just wasn’t right in his gut as he unlocked his door. Beginning to walk into the hallway, where your mother’s door was still closed. Still probably asleep. You had mentioned to him once or twice that your mother could sleep like the dead. If World War Three were to ever break out, your mother could probably sleep right through it and still be a-okay.

“… Lee! I know you’re home Big Brother!”

Sandy.

That was Sandy.

But what the hell was his sister doing here? So early in the morning too?

“C’mon! Open the door, Lee!” A man’s voice barked out. Lee knew that was Sandy’s husband, his brother-in-law, Carl.

Carl.

A deep burning of anger and hatred bubbled up to the surface.

However, Lee walked to the front door. Knowing that soft footsteps were following him.

You.

You had gotten up when Sandy had shouted, quickly padding down the hall to catch up with your Alpha. Your hand intertwined with his.

The sounds of the front door being unlocked were heard.

The door swung open.

Sandy Bodecker saw her big brother, and a young woman who looked barely looked like she would be roughly nineteen or her early twenties, in nothing but a nightgown, looking into the familiar eyes that her Alpha had. Sandy also noticed that she had a bite on her Mating Gland on her neck. She noticed that Lee had a bite mark on his Mating Gland too.

Realization came over her.

This was her Big Brother’s Omega.

Lee was mated now.

Your gaze went from the young woman who smelled like an Omega, just like you. You noticed that she had the same eyes as Lee. This was probably his sister.

But the man beside her.

This man…

There was an unsettling feeling in your gut. Something was telling you to not trust this man. Even though it was still dark, you could see his mousy brown hair and brown eyes. But something churned in your gut.

And when he spoke, you nearly almost vomited.

“Lee. Care to introduce us?” Carl Henderson said, a grin stretching over his face. The Beta man was looking at you, his scent of something that smelled like cabbages filling your nose. It made you remember that disgusting, spoiled cabbage soup you had smelled once when you used to live in Michigan. You began to feel a headache coming on.

You didn’t trust this Beta.

Not at all.

Your Omega was in her cage, looking at this Beta in pure horror.

Something terrible was about to happen.

Taglist: @greeneyedblondie44, @bxnnywriting

[captainsimagines]

To Topple A Giant || Chapter Five

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

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

Part 5 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

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

Warnings in this Chapter: mentions of male masturbation and boners (lol); strong language; references to suicide, murder, and drug smuggling; abusive parental relationship; mentions of child death in a second flashback; dry humping (smut); 18+ only please!

Word Count: 16,500+

A/N: damn that chapter warning list was a trip to write down lmao

~

Westview, 2023, 1:32 pm

     An uncomfortable silence spread throughout the parked vehicle, daring either of you to take the first step. No one commented on the glares boring into your soul as you drove through the town or how heavily the three of you got patted down by the authorities right outside the state line. You figured it was completely justified - still a little insulting to a bunch of Avengers who literally saved the world three weeks ago. 

With a loud gulp, Bucky was the first to kick open his door and get out of the car. You glanced at Steve from the driver’s seat, biting your lip with a slight quiver as you went over the speech you practiced earlier today. Simple enough, and not too damning. 

Steve’s leg bounced rapidly a few more times before he too kicked open his door, leaving you in silence. You pulled the car keys from the ignition and took in a deep breath. Your legs were numb, the anxiety washing over you in uneven cycles. It was now or never. 

“Wanda, it’s us…”

Her grief seemed to emit from every crack in the sidewalk, every weak beg escaping the townspeople’s throats, every sound from the inanimate objects her powers had continued to turn from gray to red… to green… back to gray. She was crouched on the property, weeds brushing against her black pants and leaving their mark, mascara smudged with each new wet streak. 

Bucky unzipped his jacket, eyes wandering over the deserted plot of land as Wanda tried to control her sobs. She had already caused enough damage, both physical and psychological, the possibility of more government involvement looming over your heads. He carefully walked toward her and wrapped his jacket over her shoulders, all be damned as he held her and began to tear up himself.

“Wanda, you’re okay. You’re safe. We’ll get through this,” Steve sighed, still keeping a respectable distance from her in case she were to run. But you knew her better - she was all out of fight. One fight after another and yet she still lost her love. 

“I did something really bad,” she sobbed, eyes locked on the spot where Vision had just disappeared. Again.

“No, you didn’t know what you were doing,” Steve declared, shocked by the unexpected scoff from Bucky. 

“Save it, Steve. She may not have known in the beginning but she does now. She still did it.”

No one dared correct Bucky or argue with that logic because if anyone knew about causing harm with absolutely no intention, it was obviously him. Taking responsibility - that was the best course of action. 

Once you heard of a radioactive disturbance in a small town just outside the state, the team almost retired completely. So soon after defeating Thanos, so soon after Tony’s death, so soon after Natasha’s death - the team left it up to the proper authorities this time around. 

But the second you watched the broadcast of Wanda’s fantasies, the sitcom her powers were conjuring, her giving birth to her children… all you could do was wait until she opened the barrier. 

“I still did it,” Wanda said, her upper body beginning to rock back and forth as her fingertips brightened with red tendrils of magical grief. 

You shut your eyes and willed yourself not to cry. You had done so much crying these past few years and you were oh, so tired. You couldn’t possibly take another beating. 

“Hey, hey. Look at me,” Bucky spoke, gently turning Wanda’s face and placing both his hands on her cheeks, mindful of the metal appendage he had forgotten to cover with his glove. “You already did it. It can’t be undone. But you can come with us and grieve properly.”

Wanda reached up and placed her hands over his, tears spilling from her eyes faster now. 

“Let us help you grieve.”

This wasn’t an unexpected goodbye. Wanda knew that. She had just voluntarily given up her husband and children - anyone would crumble from that sort of devastation. But now she had been given a proper goodbye, a somewhat proper closure, and the chance to accept it. “Okay.”

You and Steve remained frozen in place even after Bucky helped Wanda stand. Almost as quickly as you thought it, your feet had a mind of their own. You stood next to Steve, taking in the weed infested, rectangular plot of land - the remnants of Wanda’s fantasy still fresh and creating a tiny, refreshing tingle in the middle of your chest. You looked over at Steve and smiled sadly when you saw him inspecting the area as well. 

“They would have had a beautiful life together.”

Steve’s breath hitched as you finished your declaration, looking over at you and nodding slightly. 

“If I had the chance, I would have wanted a nice house with some decent air conditioning. Some weird, front yard garden where I could plant random flowers. A dog that dug them up and acted like it didn’t do it.”

You giggled, thumbnail between your incisors to try and disguise the wider grin forming. Steve kept speaking. 

“Maybe a kid or two. Never actually checked if I could even have kids after the serum.”

You dropped your hand from your face, your attention completely on him now. 

Steve sighed and kicked a rock over to the other side of the property. “I would have wanted a giant, king-sized bed. With ‘his’ and ‘hers’ towels. And every once in a while we would accidentally use the other one’s toothbrush, a secret we would take to the grave.”

Steve wasn’t even looking over at you as he said this. It was like a one-sided confession, rhetorical, not needing an immediate response or expression in return. And you couldn’t believe he was just saying this in front of you - you of all people - the same person who rolled their eyes whenever Steve struggled to comprehend a modern topic or argued with him when he was in one of his moods. He had been distant the last few weeks after returning the stones, only ever noticing you when other people were around to carry a conversation. 

The tingles in your chest were starting to disappear as the plot of land gave its last few magical rumbles. 

“Steve?”

Steve bowed his head, hands in his pockets and breath steady. “Yes, they would have been very happy together.”

You stared at the back of his head as he slowly walked back to the car.  

Present Day, 2025, 8:10 am

     The amount of times you reminded yourself to wake up early as you were drifting off to sleep last night was perhaps more than the number of sheep you had ever counted in your life. A quick reminder here and there as your mind got clogged with pointless information, the number eight behind your eyelids all throughout the night. 

And you did it. In the early hours of the morning, knowing Steve would wake naturally in about twenty minutes, you tip-toed out of bed to use the bathroom. Acting completely normal in case he did in fact hear you before your grand plan - an easy escape route if he decided to repeat his horrible morning ritual on you. But he was such an old man, getting older, losing that serum’s boost. This Steve, Steve who refused to call any movie made after 1945 ‘old’ because he literally didn’t get the chance to see them premiere - yeah, this Steve, was passed out like he had been hit by a truck. 

Bladder empty and teeth brushed, you quietly opened the bathroom door and peeked through. He still lay there on his back, wrapped tightly in his blanket, breathing steadily, and face completely unprotected. 

Could you die? Probably. Would this payback be absolutely satisfying? Hell yeah. 

You grabbed the biggest of your pillows and fisted the corner tightly, twisting it a couple times for a better grip. You signed the cross quickly before lifting the pillow above your head and bringing it down to Steve’s face. 

Steve’s eyes snapped open and he immediately sat up, “WHAT?”

His eyes flew around the room rapidly until they landed on you, angry and challenging.

“Payback!” you yelled, lifting the pillow high again for a second hit. But he reacted quicker, grabbing a pillow himself and swinging it toward you. It slammed you in the torso and practically sent you flying. You landed at the edge of your bed, mouth open in shock and racks of laughter bubbling deep within your chest. You stood quickly and hit him repeatedly, trying your best to also block his counterattack. 

He reached for your hip and pulled you in his bed, rolling the two of you over so he was straddling your hips. He brought the pillow down several more times before accepting your plea of surrender. 

You threw the pillow back to your bed and pouted, “Not a fair fight!”

Steve scoffed, “You caught me off guard! You had all the advantages!”

You shuffled beneath him and froze, hips stuck in a lifted position as you were too embarrassed to move them back down. “Jesus, Steve! How do you even sleep on your stomach with that thing?”

Steve furrowed his eyebrows as he inspected your face and body, looking down at the two of you before he noticed the way he was pressing into your inner thigh. He scrambled off you, a blush spreading from his cheeks and all the way down his chest. He cupped himself and turned away, quickly shuffling for his suitcase and pulling whatever clothes his flustered hands grabbed. He was also repeatedly apologizing. 

“Steve, it’s okay. It just… startled me, is all.”

Steve cleared his throat a couple times before pacing around the room in search of his toiletries. 

You just sat back on your elbows, watching him scurry like a chicken with its head cut off. It was rather amusing. 

“I’m gonna - gonna, take a shower. Uh, I’m sorry again.”

You smirked at the super soldier, “Steve, I’m not mad. It isn’t like I’m new to that kind of thing.”

Steve blushed harder, “But I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

You shrugged your shoulders and dipped lower into his sheets, grabbing and lifting them higher. You snuggled deeper, “Still.”

Steve could feel the speed at which the world rotated and he shut the bathroom door behind him. He leaned against it, breathing deeply until he had all his inhibitions back. 

He didn’t know what was more embarrassing - reacting the way he did or you seeing him react the way he did. It wasn’t like the two of you hadn’t seen each other in awkward situations, some borderline lewd. There were plenty of missions that involved heavy flirting with the targets, undercover work in depraved settings, missions where nasty magic was involved and concocted a multitude of inappropriate visions. Hell, everyone had already seen each other naked. It was completely normal, a trustworthy environment, and sometimes necessary. 

As much as he wanted to give into the feeling and award himself some proper alone time, he refused to act upon it. He would regret it later once the stress pushed down harder than usual, but it just wasn’t appropriate in his right mind to masturbate with you in the other room. 

Why did he have to be such a good and honorable man?

He busied himself with washing his hair and scrubbing away any evidence of sleep from his face. Steve liked sleeping on his stomach, face smooshed in the pillows and arms extended to his sides. It allowed for more comfortable movement, more ways to stretch his hips, just overall comfort for his massive shoulders. Less pressure on the lungs, too. And unlike the enthusiastic yet almost mean accusation that he couldn’t possibly enjoy that position because of his… well, his dick, Steve would choose that position over sleeping on his back any day. But that morning, his body had decided to betray him in more ways than one. One, he was open to attack because he was on his back. And two, whatever dream he was having caused his morning wood to seem larger this morning.

He had washed up quickly, more time spent out of the shower where he fixed his hair and combed his beard. He thought about shaving it for the rehearsal dinner or wedding, but it gave him a more rugged look - like he was all tough and no funny business. As ridiculous as it sounded, the beard allowed him to lean into the criminal act easier, build a fake personality that already had your father eating out of his hand. 

Opening the bathroom door and having to face the music, Steve was almost certain you would continue to tease him. But you were already munching on the breakfast you had ordered, shoveling hash browns in your mouth as you swiped the mouse through pages and pages of intel. You didn’t even look up as he crossed the room to grab a pair of pants he had forgotten to pick up during his quick escape. That settled his nerves almost instantly and he was dressed and settled next to you soon after.

You worked in silent cooperation for a long while, handing each other files and passing phone calls like you had during every other mission before. Except now it was more comfortable, pleasant, and kind - the soft sounds from the television in the corner, the humming of the desktop, the soft hums of recognition whenever you two showed each other something. You didn’t even bother with what happened in the morning, if it really was anything at all, because you honestly found it normal. You were more focused on the conversation you had last night. 

Steve had offered to kill your father if you seriously couldn’t. Just thinking about his offer caused your stomach to turn. Because yes, you wanted him dead. You wanted to snap his neck in ten different places and feed him to scavengers. You wanted to steal his business from under him and tear it apart, bit by bit, and keep him alive long enough to see you do it. You wanted to see the look in his eyes when you revealed that you double-crossed him. And as the day inched closer, the overwhelming feeling of shame pushed down on your shoulders and swallowed your mind. Once your father was dead, you and Steve would never find true peace. His men would always follow you, probably take you down at the local coffee shop you and Peter frequented. 

The thought of dying in front of Peter caused a lump to form in your throat. No, you wouldn’t do that to your friends. You couldn’t do this to Steve. 

But you had to. Because even though your life will never be yours after this mission, you had to save the countless others your father was sure to touch and ruin. 

But was your life ever truly yours?

Steve’s voice pulled you from your clouded mind. 

“Huh?” 

“I asked if you wanted the last piece of fruit.” 

You looked at Steve then at the small piece of watermelon in the bowl, then back at Steve. He had a pen in between his teeth, one eyebrow cocked, and slightly puffy eyes due to the beer heavy sleep he had last night. You looked away as quickly as you could and stared back at the fruit, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. 

Ridiculous, you thought. Just looking at Steve had flustered you, squeezing your stomach in pleasurable pulses you hadn’t felt since high school. “No, no. You can have it,” you said, hoping your voice wouldn’t crack. 

Ridiculous. 

Steve watched you with a funny smile but he took your word and scooped up the last piece for himself. 

No, you thought again, this man will not give me freaking butterflies. 

It wasn’t like it was odd. Steve had you flustered countless times before, but it was never quite as tingly as it was now. You suddenly wanted to facetime Wanda and rant about these weird feelings; you wanted to curl in on yourself and squeal; you wanted to -

    “He’s what?”

You sat on your knees and leaned over the back of the couch, chin resting on your folded arms as you watched Steve pace around the common room. He was tugging at his dress shirt repeatedly, desperately trying to attach cufflinks without additional help. Sam sat right beside you, in the same position, snickering each time Steve cursed under his breath. 

“He’s nervous,” Bucky smirked, arm holding out Steve’s tie for the past five minutes. Steve had paced beside him various times already, completely oblivious. 

Steve groaned and readjusted his collar, snapping his head toward the three of you. “I’m not nervous.”

“You’re sweating buckets, man,” Sam pointed out, one of his hands discreetly opening up his camera and switching to video. 

“What if she doesn’t like me?” 

Bucky threw his head back and cackled, choosing to grab Steve and steady him to finally put that damn tie around his neck. “Same old, Steve. Can’t accept that a dame would ever possibly like you back.”

“Hey, Steve don’t worry about it,” you started, shooting Steve a sympathetic look. Steve glanced back at you, expression swiftly changing due to your kind tone. “... when I was in high school,-”

Steve released a loud grunt, rolling his eyes and stepping away from Bucky’s hands. 

Sam rolled over and clutched his stomach as he laughed, pulling you into him. The two of you shook from your laughs together. 

“Guys,” Bucky warned, reaching for Steve in a ‘grabby’ motion. “Give him a break.”

Steve reluctantly stood beside Bucky again, head tilted upward as he tried wrapping the tie back around his neck. 

None of you heard the entrance of Thor and his brother, too busy with bullying, laughter, or moderating. 

“Did we miss all the fun?”

You shot up from the ground, kicking Sam away as you rushed across the floor and stumbled over the rug. “Thor!”

You rushed into his arms and he gripped you tightly, swinging you around and loud laughter matching yours. 

“Now, why wasn’t I greeted in a similar manner?” Loki questioned, crossing his arms over his chest. 

You pulled your face from Thor’s shoulder, “Oh, you want this too?”

You jumped back onto the floor and were about to jump into Loki’s arms, but he held his own out, stopping you. “It’s too late. It’s not the same.”

“Piss baby,” you quipped, rushing behind Thor for protection when Loki’s mouth dropped in surprise. 

“Can everyone stop what they’re doing real quick and tell Steve his date is going to go well tonight?”

You rolled your eyes at Bucky’s favor, but he just raised his eyebrows, challenging you to disobey the order. 

“The Captain has a date? Are they okay?”

Loki and you shared a comical gasp. 

Steve gaped, “Now, what in the world does that mean, Thor?”

Thor raised his hands in defense, “I’m just asking if she truly knows what she’s getting herself into! Don’t try and tell me she has no idea who you are.”

Steve was back to groaning nonstop. Bucky threw his hands up in the air, “I ask one thing of you guys. One thing.”

You stomped over to Steve and ripped the half-tied tie from his neck and smoothed down his collar. You patted down his shoulders and the front of his shirt, and gripped his shoulders to straighten his back. 

“Now,” you smiled up at him. The breath caught in your throat for a second, the blue of his eyes shining under the ceiling lights and the pink of his cheeks spreading slowly. You let out a tiny sigh, heart fluttering faintly from the small grin he was giving you. He looked so innocent, a renaissance subject created from light oils, signs of true aging showing in his forehead. “Whatever date you got planned, she’s gonna love it.”

Steve relished in the feeling of your palms pressed against his chest for a few moments before he nodded at your declaration. He stepped back and smoothed down his shirt. “Wish me luck?”

A chorus of ‘good luck’s sounded as Steve found his keys and shared a goodnight hug with Sam and Bucky. They both jokingly reminded him to use protection. 

You watched Steve leave, a newfound bounce in his step as he walked away. Your words had been so simple, so cliche, and yet he had dropped any visible nerves as he walked out the door. You weren’t the best motivational speaker, that was for sure, but the proof of at least an ounce of motivation was there. Maybe your words held a hidden meaning. Maybe.

You thought about him picking up this random woman, wine and dining her, kissing her cheek as he said his goodbyes at the end of the night. It was somewhat adorable to think about, but also weird.

Before you could dive more into the strange feeling, Thor’s voice sounded. 

“Should we order pizza or chinese?”

It’s like that snapped you from your trance, because next thing you knew you were back to your playful self, sprinting across the room and into Loki’s arms. 

     You cherished the slight, pleasant churn of your stomach as you watched him happily munch on the fruit. 

Okay, it was normal to have a tiny crush on your mission partner. God knows how many times you wanted to jump Thor’s bones whenever you were undercover together. A crush was normal, completely natural and expected. 

Except you had never gotten so much sane joy from a simple question of whether you wanted the last piece of fruit. 

You blinked a few times and shook off any trace of overthinking devils, grabbing at random files to occupy your mind for a while. After about fifteen more minutes of comfortable silence, you spoke.

“So, we think Ramirez is gonna get straight up murdered?”

Steve snorted, filing through a pile of papers Torres had delivered this morning. “I wouldn’t put it like that, but sure.”

��But it’s just a theory at this point. We can’t just go in guns blazing without enough proof.”

“And if there is proof? Do we protect him? The original mission was to arrest all four men.”

You groaned, “I don’t know. He’s never done me wrong.”

“Personal feelings aside, Y/N.”

“Ugh, fine. But I’m not gonna be happy about it.”

Steve squinted at you with a playful smile. “You’d rather just arrest the bad ones, huh?”

“Obviously what Ramirez is doing is illegal and it’s horrific to think of what might be happening behind the scenes on his side, but either he’s serious or he’s been putting on this good guy act for his whole life.”

“Leaning towards the first option?”

Shrugging, you leaned toward your computer screen and scrolled through the massive list of emails. “It’s what my gut tells me, but ehh.”

There was one random email from Maribel, but random only meant coded. Reading it over a couple times, humming to yourself in concentration, you finally cracked the code she was trying to send. 

“Maribel says Ramirez acquired some land in Mexico… lots of it.”

Steve looked up from the files, “Any significance?”

“It’s probably for growing the products.”

Steve quickly typed key words that would alert him of any new transactions in the past few months.  “Who’s on the title?”

“Just him. And his oldest daughter. My father must know, right?”

Steve leaned back in his chair, releasing a heavy sigh as he thought about what this could mean. “Ramirez acquiring more land means more of Ramirez’s product. A three-way partnership would be split unevenly if he utilizes the land.”

“Make sure Bucky alerts us of any business my father might have with realtors authorized to work in that area.”

It functioned like this for another hour, the two of you sharing bits of information every ten minutes or so. 

“Torres sent us an update on White.”

You rubbed at your strained eyes, “What does he say?”

Steve’s eyebrows raised, “That he’s been in the country for much longer than his passport says.”

You stood from your seat and rushed to look at the same screen Steve was reading from. “He traveling under a fake name?”

“Customs says he returned to Germany,” Steve stated, highlighting a paragraph on the screen for you to easily read. “Four weeks ago.”

It was your turn to snort out a laugh, “Oh, he’s so setting up an alibi.”

Steve nodded in agreement, “Looks like it.”

You slapped his shoulder lightly, voice raising an octave. “Look at us! Piecing together the puzzle!”

“We still got a few more pieces to attach before you go getting all cocky.”

You chuckled and decided to take a break. You speed walked over to your bed and plopped down, the mountain of pillows already relieving your tense muscles. “Hey, has my sister’s plane landed yet?”

Steve glanced at you quickly before pulling up Bucky’s morning emails. “Uh, landed about an hour ago.”

“She at the estate?”

He shrugged, “Torres hasn’t sent an update. Just her profile, hold up.”

You waved him off, a nonverbal way of telling him you seriously couldn’t care less. “I haven’t spoken to her since I joined you guys. You don’t gotta give me her origin story.”

“That long?” Steve questioned. 

You placed a pillow beneath your head, body horizontal and facing Steve. “We were never that close. I’ve got tons of half-siblings. Most of them were adults when I was born, anyway.”

With just a few words exchanged, Steve realized he had just stepped through your metaphorical door of reminiscing. So he stood to lay in his own bed, the simple action of giving you attention enough to keep you talking, he hoped. “Were you alone a lot? Growing up, I mean.”

You watched as Steve also placed a pillow beneath his head, “There were always kids around. Kids of the maids, cousins, neighbors.”

“A full house, sounds like.”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, a small smile forming as you thought about old friends. “I remember this one time, we all ran into Ramirez when we were trying to get to one of the playrooms. But he grabbed me quickly and told me to not go in there.”

“Was it a threat?”

You grinned at his protective tone, “No, it was a warning. There were some really bad men in the other room. It was me and a few other girls. He told us to run back to my room and lock the door until he came to get us.”

Steve couldn’t come up with a reasonable explanation as to why Ramirez joined the drug game. Sure, the function and presence of cartels had changed drastically over the last forty years, but it didn’t explain why he remained involved. In the eighties, the drug game was highly televised and spoken about, but the cartel violence was not as strong. Nowadays, and not even you could give a proper explanation, the violence was astronomical and basically advertised as something to expect when visiting certain countries. This was the mob game now, freaking Al Capone or the goddamn Godfather, absolutely meant to frighten whoever dare join or leave. For Ramirez to still be one of the big players even with that many internal changes, to be a good person in the middle of such hell, didn’t make any sense. 

“He protected you.”

You clutched the pillow closer to your chest, the memory a good one even if it was weird. “Oh, yeah. Those guys he was warning us about were no angels.”

Steve gave an awkward smile, “I feel like I know more about your childhood than you know mine.”

“I’m all ears if you wanna tell me about little, asthmatic Steve Rogers.”

He raised his index finger at you, “Hey, I was more than just my asthma.”

“Oh, excuse me. I totally forgot about your scoliosis.” 

The pillow under his head was now flying across the small distance to your face. You shrieked and sent it back. 

“Stop bullying!” Steve laughed.

You shielded your face in case he decided to continue the pillow war. “What? I’ve got my health problems, too! I just don’t have the serum to help me out.”

But he didn’t throw it again. He repositioned himself on his back and placed both hands beneath his head, gracing the ceiling with a grin. “I remember this one time, Bucky and I were around eleven-years old, and I had this really bad asthma attack. Bucky just freaked out. I was choking and he was just holding me, screaming for help -”

You blinked, “This is really depressing, what are you-”

“-and! Bucky threw himself into a full-blown panic attack. So we were both choking on air, but I was starting to laugh at him freaking out, which only made him choke harder. We ended up throwing up.”

You were silent at the end of his short story, mouth open in a wide smile. “I don’t know what else to say other than that was one of the greatest stories I’ve ever heard.”

Steve rolled over, a literal twinkle in his eye. “See? Don’t interrupt me before I get to the good parts.”

This simple moment catapulted the realization that Steve hasn’t spoken to you this much in two years, to the front of your mind. In these past four days, you had spoken like you had never stopped, like it was never awkward, like you two seriously didn’t need another person in the room to simply converse about what you wanted for breakfast. Yet here you were, more words exchanged in the past four days than you ever thought possible. 

After the fallout, you didn’t say one full sentence to him for seven months. Seven months. He hadn’t attempted a conversation with you either, but you actively avoided him like he was infected. Hell, he even moved out of the compound and into his own apartment to get away from you for most of the day. After your forced reconciliation, the awkward apologies, you still didn’t force any open conversation. But it was easier, lighter, and most conversations involved mission information. 

Talking this much now was so easy, so simple, like you didn’t need to force the comfort - there was already full comfort, a sense of community with this man. 

He was so different from when he insulted you while you were packing, annoyed by the fact that you pried too much. And now you were prying into his childhood and him yours without a lick of annoyance on either side. 

“We both had eventful childhoods, didn’t we?”

“What, with both of us in the middle of a war?” Steve asked, a genuine look on his face.

“Guess our wars never really left us, huh?”

There was a knock at the door. You weren’t expecting Torres again today. Steve muttered ‘room service, maybe’ under his breath as you went to open it. You were startled to find Scott standing outside, two massive suitcases in his hand. 

“Oh my god, I forgot you were arriving today!”

Scott scoffed, “Am I not as important as your other friends?”

You laughed and helped him inside, “Stop! You’re one of my favorite bugs!”

“Ha ha. Very funny. I’ll leave right now if you two decide to pile on me instead of each other.” Scott placed one of the suitcases near the door but the other at the edge of your bed. 

“We’ll be nice,” Steve promised, standing to greet Scott with a hug. 

“You better. Catch me up, please?” 

The suitcase contained your outfits for the rehearsal dinner and the wedding. Whoever was in charge of costumes definitely went all out, hoping their work would make the big fight the most fashionable. Steve was given a perfectly tailored suit, navy blue and velvet. It was lined with vibranium, inside pockets covered with it. That would certainly be handy if you were forced to walk through metal detectors - vibranium couldn’t be detected. His suit for the rehearsal dinner was a lot simpler, the custom black and white aesthetic, but still protected with vibranium. 

Your clothes were certainly not styled to match Steve’s, giving you a sense of individuality. It was perfect really - it would allow you to leave Steve’s side, if necessary, when the mission called for you to split up. Your rehearsal dinner outfit was two parts: a black, velvet long-sleeved shirt, slight turtleneck, and gold cuffs. It was joined by a long gold skirt, high-waisted, the front shorter than the back and sides more curled than ruffled. You would have to wear tights underneath, but it was beautiful. Vibranium was also stitched in for added protection. Your dress for the actual wedding, however, was a total knockout. Red, spaghetti strap, tight on top but loose once it reached your hips, a long slit on the left side. They were even kind enough to give you a pair of heels to match. 

Yeah, Steve was Captain America and his appearance will shock the guests, but your attire will definitely be the second topic in gossip. 

Scott was filing through the same papers you and Steve had reviewed earlier, a bowl of potato chips at his side. And it was peaceful - you and Steve even had the chance to nap. 

“So, you’re gonna see Jackeline at the rehearsal dinner?”

You wiped the remnants of your nap from your face and groaned as you stretched, “She’ll probably be busy tomorrow when we go for breakfast, so yeah.”

Scott shifted uncomfortably in his seat, eyes practically attached to the computer screen. “And… she’s the one getting married?”

His tone started to worry Steve, “Yes, Scott. You good?”

Scott piled a handful of potato chips in his mouth, finger clicking the mouse every few seconds. His eyes were now wide, blinks forgotten. “Jackeline Vega. Jackeline.”

Steve ignored him now, “Hey, why isn’t your last name Vega?”

As much as you wanted to share about how and why you changed your last name, Scott’s demeanor interested you more. “Changed it when I became an American citizen - Scott, what’s up?”

He let out a tiny squeak, swallowing his snack quickly. “And she’s your father’s favorite?”

You rolled your eyes, “Mmm.”

Scott released a huge huff of air, shoulders falling as he raised his voice and turned the monitor to face you. “Think he knows anything about this?”

The photograph was blurry because it was enhanced, but you could still make out the face of a sister you hadn’t seen in years. Older, still with teenage features obviously, and tossed on what looked like a church alter-

Steve's eyes widened, “Is she…?”

Scott finished his sentence for him, “Fucking a priest?”

You covered your mouth in shock, “Oh my god, she’s fucking a priest!”

Bent on the literal church altar, skirt bunched around her hips, head thrown back in ecstasy and face in full view. And the damned priest, in between her legs and under the eyes of god. 

“That’s why I asked!”

Steve clutched at his chest, head thrown back as he howled, “I think you were wrong about your sister.”

Now your eyes were glued to the screen, “Oh, I was fuck all from correct!”

Scott cleared his throat, “Is the priest… her fiance?”

Steve came down from his laugh attack, “I highly doubt that, Scott.”

“This is actually really damning evidence.”

You grinned at Scott, “For what? Painting her out to look like the most sinful whore? I might just congratulate her.”

Steve stared at you, judging almost. “For fucking a priest?”

“For proving me wrong. She’s not so innocent after all,” you responded, cheeks strained from how wide you were smiling. 

“Clearly. This is… actually badass,” Scott admitted, turning the monitor back to him.

You teased, singing your next words. “Don’t let the Lord and Savior hear that.”

Steve glared, “Y/N.”

You leaned away from him, “What? Anyway, that’s gotta be one the worst sins to commit, right?”

Steve’s expression contorted from annoyance to disbelief. “We’ve literally killed people.”

“Pfft, but we’re not fucking priests. Right?”

Scott answered, nodding quicker than he needed to. “Right.”

“You’re literally asking that?”

You pressed your lips into a fine line and tilted your head at Steve. “Steve?”

He glared at you for a long moment before slowly shaking his head. “I’m not fucking any priests.”

Your response was immediate, “Alright! I gotta hand it to her, though. Who took the photo?”

Scott went back to fishing through the emails. “Some sleazy magazine that never got around to actually printing these out.”

“Someone paid them off. Or killed them.”

“I wonder who,” you replied sarcastically. 

Steve continued, “You honestly think he would support her doing that?”

You shrugged and scurried back over to your unmade bed. “Not my problem.”

Scott interjected, “Okay, okay. How’s tomorrow gonna work?”

Steve answered first, “Well, we’re driving out around eight.”

You hummed in agreement, reaching over to unplug your phone from the charger. “Scott, you’ll just ride on one of our backs as we walk through the estate.”

“I kind of want to ride Y/N’s back this time.”

You snorted, “Now that doesn’t sound sexual at all.”

He hid his face in his hands, “You know, I heard it once I said it.”

“Course you did.”

Steve jumped back into the conversation, Scott’s embarrassment seeming to grow under the weird tension. “Then you’ll hop off and plant the bugs wherever you feel like they’re needed.”

“Easy peasy!” you cheered. 

“Bucky and Sam gonna meet us Friday night?”

Steve nodded, “That’s what they said.” He looked over at you, scrolling through your phone and already smiling at something you found funny. He cleared his throat to get your attention. “You know they can be out here in under an hour if we seriously need them.”

You glanced over at Steve, his sincerity greatly appreciated. “I know. But all my faith is in Scott here.”

Scott moaned quietly, “Oh… no, let’s not put all the faith in me because I can’t handle that responsibility.”

You propped yourself up onto your elbows, “You saying I can’t trust you?”

“No, no! That’s not what I’m saying at all-!”

Steve rolled his eyes and looked at the man, a sheen of nervous sweat starting to form on his forehead. “Scott.” 

Scott lowered his hands from his chest, “O-oh. She’s messing with me, huh?”

You chuckled and laid back down. “You’re so easy.”

The easygoing atmosphere for the next few hours almost had you believing you were on vacation, away from the bad guys and space aliens for just a moment. Almost like you weren’t in the middle of a drug war, a mob business, the literal daughter of a king. Scott had that effect, his personality such a sweet refresher and such a contrast to every soul in the compound. 

Thor and Peter were also sweethearts and fun was always expected when they were around, but Scott had this different vibe. Maybe it was because he was relatively new, or that he had a child, or that he hadn’t suffered the same five years as everyone else did. Like he wasn’t yet tainted.  

“You guys mind if I run a job inside a job?”

Your head snapped up at Scott’s crazy question, “You stealing something?”

To run a job inside a job was risky. There was no exact plan to keep both missions balanced, to somehow rank the other more important. You prayed it wasn’t something insane. 

Scott chuckled under his breath, already grabbing his jacket and suitcase by the door. “No, I’m not stealing something. Hank needs me to speak to some guy he’s doing negotiations with about a space for a new lab headquarters.”

Steve tilted his head, “In Northern California?”

“Nah, the dude is vacationing out here for the time being. The lab will be in San Francisco again.”

You squinted at him, still cautious. “Where you meeting him?”

“Some nice Italian restaurant an hour out.”

Steve spoke before you did, similar thoughts running through his mind. “You check with Torres? We don’t know who might randomly show up there.”

Scott tried his best to reassure you, “Yeah, he said they’re following every car that leaves the premises and travels more than thirty minutes away. None of Ernesto’s men have been spotted further up north.”

You sighed. You didn’t want another member of your team to venture out in this area, let alone this goddamn state, without your eyes on them. You were protective, the proximity of your outside world with the one you had spent ten years building too suffocating of a reality. 

Still, you told Scott goodbye with a steady voice. “Then enjoy your dinner, Scott.”

His voice picked up again, that childish and upbeat feeling wrapping you around his finger. “You guys wanna come with? I’m sure you’re sick of icky hotel food.”

Steve waved him off, “It’s actually not that bad-”

“Breadsticks. Garlic pasta. More breadsticks.”

You laughed, “That sounds nice, Scott but we can stay here-”

“Three-cheese pastas.”

“Scott, you can try all you want but-”

“Unlimited breadsticks.”

You shared a look at Steve, puckering your lips at the suggestion. 

“.... We’ll sit far away from your table, okay?”

Scott opened the hotel door and started sprinting down the hallway. “I knew I could persuade you with that! C’mon!”

     California at night was a death trap. Potholes on every stretch of asphalt, construction halted for who knows how long, random opossums lingering in the shadows just waiting to get hit by tires. It was prettier during the day - less of a ‘lead me into this forest, yes, kill me’ vibe. 

You chilled in the backseat while Scott drove you guys to the restaurant. You had texted Bucky where you were planning to go, the message activating the group text chain. 

Peter: it’s Wednesday! Who died?

Wanda: she’s literally texting us

Peter: Y/N, you won???

Bucky: fuck do I owe the fucking spider money?

Peter: pay up dude

Y/N: tf Bucky? You bet against me?

      “You sure you two are good?”

The restaurant looked quiet considering it was a Wednesday night, but it was still crowded. There was a short line extending out the door and a… bouncer. You sucked in a breath and smacked Scott in the chest once you were out of the car. 

“Thought you said this was a restaurant?”

Scott rubbed his chest, a look of disbelief spreading across his face. “Restaurant slash bar!”

“We eating with the Italian mob now? I can only handle one mob at a time, Scott.”

You nodded rapidly, pointing at Steve. “I agree with him!”

“Not every place has bad guys!”

You groaned and reluctantly stood at the back of line, pulling Steve’s hat lower on his forehead. It wasn’t like people couldn’t take one long, hard look at him and not know who he was, anyway. 

“Can you guys just… enjoy a night out?”

“While on a mission?”

“While living your long lives. God, Y/N, you getting old already?”

Your mouth dropped, “I’m twenty-six and I’m not complaining about a nice dinner, Scott.” You pointed at the bouncer. “I’m worried about the fact that our ID’s are gonna be checked.”

Scott’s mouth formed an ‘O’. “Yeah, that.”

“Next.”

You shot Steve a worried look but handed the bouncer your driver’s license. He just looked at the date of birth and moved you along. “Next.”

Scott handed him his, doing his best to smile proudly while the bouncer scanned him up and down. “Next.”

“See? Wasn’t so hard,” Scott joked, standing next to you in the far corner of the entrance. 

You rolled your eyes, “Wait.”

The bouncer took one look at Steve’s ID and gasped. Steve looked anywhere but the bouncer’s eyes, his bottom lip suffering the abuse of his incisors. 

“Cap-Captain?”

Steve gave a sheepish grin, lowering his cap further. “Uh, yeah.”

“Enjoying your day?”

You pinched your nose. 

“Would like it a lot more if you could lead us to a table with as much privacy as you can offer.”

You had to hand it to Steve for taking advantage of situations like this. 

The bouncer agreed immediately, speaking with the manager and promising discretion. The manager said it was no problem, that it was the least he could do for you guys after you brought his son back to him after those rough five years. 

The restaurant offered a somewhat real Italian setting, awarding their guests with as much real scenery and architecture it could. You could only compare it to the Venetian in Vegas as you had never actually been to Italy, but the live band and garlic smell was enough to transport you. 

The lights were low, older couples enjoying the food and wine, and there was a small bar near the back of the restaurant. It wasn’t really a place for some shady business, but years of experience let you know that wasn’t always the case. It was second nature to eye women reaching into their purses, only to pull out a pack of gum. Second nature to wince at the sound of a loud laugh cutting through the quiet atmosphere. 

As promised, you were led to a more private area of the restaurant, closer to the bar than to the band. 

“Go run the job, Scott. We’ll just be enjoying our unlimited breadsticks,” you said, letting out a heavy and relaxed sigh as you settled into the private booth. 

“That hat isn't really hiding those broad shoulders, Cap,” Scott laughed, slapping Steve on the back.

Steve slid into the same booth, ignoring the completely empty seat across from you. “Thanks, Scott. I’m aware.”

You tried to hide your blush as you squeezed deeper in your seat. Scott noticed though, side eyeing Steve who was none the wiser. “You know, I told him that he should have used those facial changing things SHIELD used to have.”

Steve grabbed the offered utensils and started unwrapping them from their napkins. 

“What are we if not superheroes who think a baseball cap and glasses hide our identities?” you teased, shooting Scott a quick wink. 

Steve answered almost triumphantly, “Uh, Superman?”

You giggled and grabbed the napkin he had unwrapped for you. “I’d argue Thor is more like Superman, but okay.”

“How am I not more like Superman? What-”

“Uh, guys? I see the dude so I’m gonna go. You two enjoy your meal,” Scott interrupted, running off to a booth located toward the middle of the restaurant. 

You sat for a few awkward moments before you squinted and looked at Steve, who was sitting to your left and way too close. “Are we annoying?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, like,” you spoke with your hands, “you and I bicker a lot because we love to annoy each other but you think it gets on other people’s nerves?”

Steve chuckled, rubbing his shoulder with yours. “Do you really care if it does?”

That blush of yours was starting to feel warmer. “No, just wondering if you felt that way.”

He shrugged, “I quite like our relationship.”

“Oh,” you smiled, looking down at your lap.  “I quite liked it more a few years back but you know.” 

He immediately tensed, body leaning away from you as if you were burning him. You shut your eyes and shook your head. “Sorry, that was low.”

He sighed deeply, “No, I deserve it. I’ll always deserve it.”

You took a risk and reached for his hand, squeezing gently. The kind gesture seemed to calm him, and he looked back at you. “I still shouldn’t have said it.”

He accepted that, and handed you the menu. 

The hotel food was grand, it did its job of filling you up and providing the necessary nutrients, but there was just something about the carbs in pasta and bread. It ignited the food critic inside you, because now you were cursing the hotel chef and dreading having to order breakfast in the morning. No, dinner. You were having breakfast with your father tomorrow. 

Scott was busy conducting his own business, bluetooth turned off but still glancing over his shoulder once in a while to check on you guys. Each time he did, he felt butterflies flutter in his breadstick-filled stomach. It was the first time he had seen the two of you so carefree, let alone with each other, and it was the most refreshing thing in the world. 

Steve was in the middle of telling another childhood story, his main plate already finished and practically licked clean. But the unlimited breadsticks were coming out by the pound, a new stick in each of your hands every five minutes. 

“I swear, she loved Bucky more than me!”

You covered your mouth and chewed, careful to not let anything through because of your giggle fit. “Steve! Your mother did not!”

Steve wiped at his under eye, clutching his chest as he continued explaining. “Bucky was always around and my mom would just linger every second she wasn’t working!”

“Bet she loved him.”

“See?”

“No, I mean she must have loved him like her own! Bucky was your best friend, your only friend. She probably thought of him like an angel sent from God!” you clarified. 

Steve smiled wider at your cheesy explanation. They were happy memories, joyful ones that he would often think about while writing or drawing. 

He continued with a soft confession. “I really wish I could see her again.”

You leaned your temple on your palm, “From everything you’ve shared with me, she sounds lovely.”

“She would have loved you.” The blush was back, and so was Steve’s, almost like those words were supposed to be kept in the back of his head. He cleared his throat. “God, she was so destroyed when Bucky first got his orders.”

“Was Bucky scared?”

“Scared? Absolutely fucking terrified. We talked about running away and changing our names so he didn’t have to go.”

The draft was such a horrible practice. The fact that men still had to enlist and hope no ‘necessary’ war was upon them. It was quite reassuring to know most of those men wouldn’t have to see battle today, they were given a choice, and there were agencies that managed people who could, like the Avengers. 

“Steve…”

Steve just hummed softly, “Life in the forties, am I right?

Your voice also got quieter. “Why didn’t you run away?”

Steve huffed out a laugh, swallowing the last of his bread. “We tried. Got all the way to the edge of town before Bucky’s dad wrung us both back to kick our asses.”

Almost out of instinct, you gripped his hand again. You rubbed soothing circles into his knuckles, knuckles that hadn’t seen hand-to-hand combat in so long. There wasn’t much danger in the world nowadays, just small missions here and there. It wasn’t like the team was itching for another alien invasion. But these periods of well needed rest were odd, periods where bruises completely healed up and little pockets of weight were gained. Steve’s knuckles were soft, only having seen the ends of paintbrushes for a long while. 

 “...Where’s your mother?”

His voice snapped you from your thoughts, and you had to repeat the question in your own head a couple times. 

“It’s not a happy story.”

There wasn’t much of a story anyway. 

“But is it a story you need to get off your chest?”

Steve didn’t want to push too hard. The long pause in your relationship definitely didn’t soften this blow, and it only added to the strings of resistance. If you decided not to tell Steve about this, Steve would have to accept it. If anything, this was one of the toughest questions to ask someone when all you’ve been doing is ignoring them for two years. 

“Not really much to get rid of.”

He nodded, only a slight hint of disappointment laced within his words. “You don’t have to tell me.”

Natasha was the only one with any knowledge of your mom. There was never an actual moment in which you freely spoke of her - inserting her likeness, her person, back into some alternate and fucked-up reality - you kept her legacy dead. It was obvious she hadn’t enjoyed this part of her life, no doubt it absolutely killed her to leave you trapped in it, so keeping her dead, even in conversation, was a favor. 

But one drunken night and you were showing Natasha the one photo you had of her, stuffed deep in your wallet and crinkled beyond repair. Her black hair to her shoulders, lip liner a darker shade than her lipstick, hands intertwined behind her back as she arched forward in a playful tilt, shooting the camera a smile that was stuck around the word she was saying as the candid was taken. There was no recorded voice but you had a record of her movement, frozen in time.     

Steve’s sincerity grasped you by the literal roots of your hair, because next thing you knew you were spilling the first thought you had. 

“She was twenty-three. Working as a real estate agent, very beautiful, and she was engaged. To an American.”

Steve chuckled around his champagne glass, “Was that bad?”

You grinned at that, like he was already fully and deeply invested in your story. “Not necessarily. But everyone knew she was taken.”

“And your father?”

“He wanted to buy some houses. Saw her, wanted her, tried persuading her into going on a date. Nothing really worked, she didn’t accept his money or gifts.”

Steve fumbled over his next words. “Did she eventually?”

“No, but her brother did. My father didn’t know it was her brother, so he thought she was accepting them. Got mad when she still refused his advances.”

He was digesting this little by little. Steve had heard horror stories of girls he grew up with, forced to marry at a young age when they were caught in a passionate moment with a man, or when they ended up pregnant. Bucky and his mother had always instructed him to treat women with respect, to never intentionally or accidentally ruin their reputation, to protect and use his voice to stand up for them. And although women weren’t getting frisky with him when he was all but ninety pounds at the ripe age of twenty, that didn’t stop Steve from exchanging a few words and punches with men who had no right.  “How did they end up together?”

You shrugged, reaching over for another breadstick. “No one knows. He invited her to a party one day and she didn’t come back for a whole week. Next thing her family knows she’s engaged to my father and no longer with the love of her life.”

“That’s awful.”

“Yeah, her family had no choice but to accept that. Her poor fiance, though.” 

“Where is he now?”

Steve had this weird hope that the fiance may still be alive somewhere, waiting for your mother to find him. But that was just the hopeless romantic emerging. 

You sighed deeply, “My father told my mother he killed him. My mother believed him.”

“So, he’s still alive? He didn’t hurt him?”

“Apparently he’s still kicking, yeah. But my mom became severely depressed from that lie.”

The restaurant felt colder and the air became thinner. Steve didn’t want his next thought to be true. “She didn’t...?”

You shook your head quickly, “No, she found out he was alive.” Even if you weren’t witness to it, you could still imagine your mother charting the areas she would have to run and swim through to get away. Wasn’t like it was a heartfelt thought, but the mere fact that she had that much determination to risk her life for love, it was somewhat therapeutic to think about. Like it was genuinely satisfying to imagine her defying your father. Still, your face drooped as you gave Steve the sad conclusion. “She didn’t even make it across the border before he had her killed for betraying him.”

His face fell in time with yours, “Fuck.”

“She left me with Maribel’s mother. But my father found me and told me she had an accident. Didn’t find out the truth until I was thirteen.”

“I’m so sorry.”

You shoved his shoulder with yours, a light chuckle cutting through the sad moment. “Not like you had a hand in this, Steve. It’s just my life.”

You were used to Steve’s generosity, his ability to make any person feel a part of his family - you had been on the receiving end of his sincerity for the past week now. But as you held his gaze, his body seemingly towering over yours, your chest flushed with such warmness, a tranquil promise of safety. He leaned forward, breath hitting your cheeks, hand still gripping yours. 

“Not anymore. We’ll end this, Y/N. I promise you, we’ll end this.”

You took a risk and rested your forehead on his, his continuous promise still causing your stomach to twist pleasurably. “How’d we get so sad all of a sudden?” You pushed away and threw your arms in the air. “We need more breadsticks!”

Steve laughed loudly, the private booth still providing somewhat of a thin curtain to the other diners. “No, we need mints!”

Rolling your eyes, you blew your breath at Steve teasingly. “Weak.”

Steve groaned, “You and Scott are not getting into the car without chewing on a mint.”

“You got a thing against bad breath?”

“Take the mint.”

“I’m gonna fight you if you force the mint on me.”

He was reaching into his jacket and pulling the small case out. He winked at you. “I’ll win.”

He popped open the cap and held it out to you. He didn’t tip it though, as if he was waiting for you to extend your palm. Everything was silent for a minute, eyes challenging one another. 

He could easily lean in. He could easily just tilt his head a little to his left and capture your lips with his. Every damn molecule in his body was telling him to do it, every bubble from that champagne somehow giving him some extra courage. 

Your breath hitched slightly, and he leaned away. I’m such a coward, he thought.

You reacted swiftly, disguising the awkwardness. “You’re right, give me the mint. You should swallow like three.”

Steve snickered, “You ruined the moment.”

But you didn’t ruin the moment. And he just blamed you for it. Like he had already established - he was a coward. 

You grabbed the mints he offered and popped them into your mouth. “What moment? I didn’t see any moment.”

Okay, he could just lean in right now and hope the mint freshness in your mouth would mask the garlic in his. Yeah, he could just lean in and do what he’s been thinking of doing for the last day and a half-

“Hey, you guys finished? Getting dessert?”

Steve almost shot from his seat, “Jesus fucking christ, Scott!”

Scott slid into the seat across from you. “You scare easily. Let’s get dessert!” 

You were too flustered. Fine, okay. You’ll play along. If the gods want to reward you with this fun Steve, the Steve you were closest to years ago, then so be it. You’ll bite. And if he wants to resort back to his bitchy self, his hermit behavior, then you’ll fight him then. 

Scott ordered so much dessert. 

So much. 

The little moment you had with Steve was still fresh, you could sense he was thinking about it too, but you opted to simply enjoy the night out. You were here with two friends, protection was just a phone call away, and you were safe. 

Perhaps Scott had the same effect on Steve that he had on you. Absolutely demolished his ‘Captain’ self and released the guy who simply wanted to enjoy a mini road trip with his friends. 

     You were barely fifteen minutes into your ride home when Scott lowered the windows and turned the radio up high. 

“Woohoo!”

You screamed over the loud roar of the wind, “Scott, it’s fucking freezing!”

Scott yelled back, “We just had three desserts each! Your blood should be running warm!”

You blinked away the dryness, “Dude!”

Steve, surprisingly, agreed with Scott. “Enjoy it!”

Your mouth dropped open and you followed Steve’s movements as he turned the radio higher. 

The music blared and you were about to protest again, the air literally nipping at your sensitive cheeks, but the song that started was a non-skip. 

You would indulge in this childishness once. 

Once. 

You reached around the passenger seat and gripped Steve’s shoulders, shaking him in place. “Ah, California radio giving us the classics!”

Scott leaned over and turned it up higher. 

You swayed in your seat and sang along with Scott. “Bidi bidi bom bom!”

Scott pointed at you and recited the lyrics, “Bidi, bidi!”

Both of you sang, “Bom!”

Even with his eyes on the road, Scott was nailing some good dance moves in his seat. You both sang each lyric with your heart and soul, laughs escaping during the guitar breaks. 

Steve just enjoyed the show. He didn’t know the song, the melody a foreign one for him, but it must have been popular for both you and Scott to know it. He watched you sway in your seat, hands dancing and voice matching the volume of the radio. Just the other night, you had mentioned how you never sang anymore.

But here you were, singing through the most beautiful smile Steve had ever seen. 

He missed the sound of it. He missed hearing you sing in your room, no doubt you were dancing too since he usually heard your feet shuffling against your carpet. He missed the innocence you would casually portray, an invitation for anyone to befriend you. He missed teasing you lightly, and he regretted the roughness of his voice years later. He missed just walking into the common area and finding you there, cooking for yourself and anyone who wanted a plate - that plate usually for him. He missed you. 

You were right here, voice hitting those octaves Steve didn’t think he would ever hear again. You were right here, and he missed you. 

      Scott was staying in a separate room. The dessert and alcohol had run right through him, and he bid you goodnight after he threatened to plop down in your bed if you invited him in. 

The sound of Scott’s retreating footsteps seemed to suck all the air from the vents at once, whispering its song lovingly in your ear. It was both refreshing and terrifying to be left alone because now here you were, standing outside your hotel door with the super soldier you had gone to Hell and back with. 

You inwardly cringed, the tightness in your chest sending your childish ass back to sophomore year of college. A first date, the lost promise of another - a proper teenage reaction to a crush. But this man in front of you wouldn’t let you delete his number from your phone; he wouldn’t avoid eye contact in the dining hall; he wouldn’t sit at the back of the lecture hall just to keep a necessary distance. 

Granted, Elijah - poor, frightened Elijah - had seen you literally kidnap someone off the street under your father’s orders. This being before you went straight and moral, before you had met Fury, before SHIELD training. You were to blame for that sprouting relationship going south pretty quickly. So you avoided him, too - praying Ernesto or Seda could never track him. 

But Steve, beautiful Steve who reloaded your guns when you couldn’t, who jumped in front of stray bullets for you and those he loved, Steve who very quietly asked you for various salsa recipes when he was in the mood to cook. Here he was, eyes also watching Scott walk away, no doubt experiencing the same tight coil within his chest. He hadn’t run, he had worked and fought with and against you, and he wasn’t running away. 

No, Steve Rogers never ran. 

The low beep from the hotel lock snapped you from your thoughts. You sensed his hesitance because when your history was truly reviewed with the most unbiased of minds, there was absolutely no reason to overthink. Hell, when you ran through the halls of Thor’s Asgardian palace with Rocket tailing you, the first joke out your mouth was how Steve would probably instruct you to respect a place like that and speed walk. Your first thought when starting the pilot episode of a new show is to wait for Bucky… and Steve, who would pop the kernels over the stove and add real salt and butter. 

His first thought as he helped load people onto the planes in Sokovia was that your whiny ass better be on one of them. Or when Steve regrouped in the support circle, his first thought before he continued the discussion was that he really hoped you would walk through those doors and join - until one day you did. 

Whether the two of you recognized the severity of your unspoken feelings, they were there. Silent and at a gradual increase. Never rushed, not entirely obvious because of the temporary roadblocks of unnecessary separation. 

Steve was here in front of you, like he always was, and he was wearing the smallest nervous smile you had ever seen.  

And you were here in front of him, like you always were, and he could not entirely read the mixed emotions on your delicate face. 

You shuffled alongside your bed, stopping to shrug out of the heavy jacket you had on. “We should turn in early so we can be well-rested, in case we gotta fight tomorrow.”

Steve nodded in agreement but remained silent, hovering near the coffee table and monitors. Your back was facing him and he just watched you fumble with your boots and belt. It was like your back was on fire, bursting with fueled flames as you could literally feel his gaze boring into you. The overwhelming urge to simply snap and ask him what the hell he was looking at was strong, so in character, but you refrained. It was too intimate, too quiet, but before you could even ask him if he wanted the shower first, the warmth of his chest was near, inches away and calling. 

Your breath hitched, shoulders rising slightly and exactly what Steve needed to witness. It was awkward for him to just stand behind you with no actual intention of touching you first - no, he needed a proper signal. So Steve waited those few precious seconds more until you turned, sun-kissed by the California sun and hair no longer in tight curls, before he glanced down at your glossy lips. You followed his eyesight, all knowing in his intentions, and you glanced at his lips as well. 

A gesture of approval. 

Steve pulled you in, both hands settling on your cheeks, thumbs exploring the corners of your mouth. He watched them dance and how your mouth parted slightly in response. He looked back up, studying the small crease forming in between your eyebrows and the pinch of water filling the inside corners of your eyes.

His thumbs felt like a gentle sigh, a promise of a sweet caress in both the daytime and dead of night. Although all his focus was on you, his own features reacted to the moment. His lips were also parted, sweet breath with the scent of those classic tiramisu’s he had devoured, touching the tip of your nose and equally trembling lips. 

So goddamn intimate that you found yourself internally cursing those sitcoms Wanda had forced you to binge watch. Because the two love interests, albeit they had several months or years of growing tension, rushed into their first kiss for the sake of limited airtime. They didn’t prepare you for practically a ten-year build-up, a relationship that was both heavily work and friend related, the slowness of such a moment fans would most certainly be jumping out of their seats for. No, nothing could have prepared you for the warmth of Steve Rogers. 

Your Captain. 

You registered the soft feeling of his lips as they pressed against yours, overlapped only slightly. Eyes now fully closed in surprise and pleasure, you leaned into it more, hands placed on Steve’s rising chest. The squeeze of his hands cupping your cheeks caused your lips to pucker more, but you were relaxed in his desperate touch. He tilted his head a little to the left, your lips sliding against each other’s and noses bumping. Steve frowned in concentration, pouring whatever emotions he had felt throughout the last few years into this one kiss, and he knew he couldn’t possibly fully portray them. And almost as quickly as you thought about how sweet and innocent of a kiss this was, Steve’s tongue slowly peaked out from behind his teeth and greeted your bottom lip. 

His tongue traced over your bottom lip warmly, welcomed by yours as you followed his lead. God, you would always follow his lead. 

You tried to move in closer, but your elbows were already bent fully against him and his hips were only a few inches from your greedy ones. One tiny step forward and you would be completely flushed against him - but you chose to respect the distance Steve created. 

You let out a quiet whine, body shuddering as Steve applied more pressure. It was as if Steve had never heard such a sound - completely unexpected and causing him to pause momentarily. He leaned away a little, lips still barely kissing yours. He opened his eyes, gaze wandering from your flushed cheeks still squeezed between his palms and to your fluttering eyelids. The crease between his eyebrows deepened as he debated leaning forward again, to be selfish for once and to pass forth the trophy for ‘waiting too long’. But as you opened your eyes, no trace of regret or hate swimming inside your irises, Steve froze. 

You were his friend. His friend who teased him about the paint streaks across his forehead, who followed his lead no matter how ridiculous the order. 

He didn’t want you to inspect him further as well, so he shut his eyes and rested his forehead against yours. It was only then that he felt you settle back down from your tippy-toes. 

You gulped loudly, throat dry and lips instantly craving him again. “Steve…”

Steve let go of your face and dragged his hands lightly down your neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He turned his head slightly, his breath now kissing your cheek. Although your cheeks were red, the absence of Steve’s palms made them cold. 

He took a small step back, hands straining to stay on your skin as he reluctantly pulled them away. The absence of any warmth finally woke you from that intense daze and you frowned at Steve as he pulled away altogether. The instinct to reach out was there, and you cursed yourself for being so clingy. 

“Steve?” you called again, voice hoarse but light enough to pinch at Steve’s fast beating heart. 

He looked up and locked eyes with your confused ones. Oh, you’re gonna hate him for this. 

He gave you a small and kind smile, one you had seen plenty of times when he was actually enjoying your company. He backed up to the door, gaze never leaving yours even as he reached for the handle and key card. 

And he wanted to bring his hands back to your face to rub away that wrinkle between your furrowing eyebrows. But he simply opened the door and left you standing near the edge of your bed, flushed with a deep sense of longing and growing confusion. 

Steve already knew the amount of heat he would receive from the moment gossip of the kiss spread. Whether he was first to tell or you were. Bucky’s going to kick his ass, for sure, no doubt about it. No matter his bond with Bucky, it could never excuse leaving you alone to unravel this situation. You had this hold over Bucky, a soft mutual understanding of mental torture, so this inevitable ass kicking would be justified. Plus, after years of being rejected over and over, mostly in the forties, Bucky might just kick his ass for simply being a dumbass. 

But Steve felt calm, an added relaxation due to the whiskey cooling in his hand. If there was anything Steve was an expert in, it was overthinking. You two had that in common - were you overthinking while absentmindedly watching TV? Overthinking while rubbing shampoo into your scalp? Overthinking while angrily stomping your way down to the hotel bar to hand his ass back over to him?

He let out a sigh of relief when he didn’t see you burst through the doors. 

      “Anyone wanna start?”

Steve glanced around the circle of familiar and new faces. The group varied each week. Some people would try, share their anecdotes about lost loved ones, only to never show up for another session. Others often attended and never spoke, but they kept returning. Steve didn’t judge their choices - he couldn’t. No matter how many mornings he wanted to crawl back under the sheets and binge eat packaged foods, he never could. He had been at this job for two years. There was both pain and satisfaction in what he did. Sam would be doing this if he were here. 

And he had to do this for Sam. 

“My divorce was finalized yesterday.”

Steve looked over at the man who spoke first, a long-time member of this particular support group, and grimaced at his confession. The man couldn’t have been more than thirty, no wrinkles or gray hair, and he was ending a two-year marriage. 

“I’m sorry, Michael.”

The man, Michael, shrugged sadly, “We still love each other, man. But seeing your newborn disintegrate in your arms does something to your soul that’s just… we both knew we needed to move on. Even if it was from each other.”

Steve squeezed the small, red stress ball in his hand and tried to offer more condolences and a kind smile, but it came out rather painful. He opted to stay silent in case Michael wanted to continue. Instead, another member decided to comment. 

It went like this for almost an hour with Steve adding in his empathetic words of wisdom whenever he saw appropriate. It was good for everyone to share so openly, to carry the conversation with minimal involvement from Steve. Steve had shared snippets of his story with the group awhile back, careful to not mention the gruesome specifics. He had let out as much as he was able, not as much as he would have liked, but his main job was to facilitate. Besides, Steve went to confession every month to talk to someone - anyone - even if he wasn’t necessarily Catholic. But that’s just the thing - no one knew who they were anymore. 

The sound of a scraping chair leg caught everyone’s attention, and they all turned to the entrance in search of the disruption. You paused in your movements, face scrunched in embarrassment. Opening one eye, you mouthed a quick apology and rushed to carry the chair to the circle. 

“I’m sorry I’m late. Subway was a bitch,” you muttered, your embarrassed smile growing wider. 

For over a year, Steve had subtly urged you to attend one of these meetings. He was witness to your nightmares, your destructive solo missions that even Friday had no records of, and your sudden breakdown last week. You were casually jogging around the outdoor track when you suddenly stopped and fell to your knees, broken sobs seeming to shake the trees around you. You were crouched for a good minute before Steve had seen you wipe your eyes and continue your jog. As if nothing happened. 

To see you here, whether to share or to listen, prompted the proud and erratic beating of Steve’s heart. 

“It’s completely fine. Time’s almost up but we still got time for you.”

You sent Steve a funny smile, amused by his professional tone. “Uh, yeah! A friend convinced me to come. He was pretty persuasive.”

Steve blushed, head tilting downward. 

You introduced yourself and let the group know you were also an Avenger. No one seemed shocked and you were suddenly grateful for this mixture of people. 

Steve sat and listened, his nerves settling. 

“I’m gonna be honest with you all,” you started, thumbs dancing in your lap. “And I’m not sure how you’ll react.”

Steve sat up straight, eyebrows scrunching as he listened intently. 

You sighed, wetting your lips briefly. “The day before the snap, I was supposed to die.”

You wanted to avoid Steve’s gaze until the right moment. You continued, “I went on a mission to Mexico. Alone, which was completely against protocol but hey, we broke a lot more rules than that.”

Steve cleared his throat which earned a chorus of chuckles from the group. 

“And I was technically on house arrest but I found out a way to temporarily disable that ankle monitor,” you added, grinning from the laughs you were receiving. 

“Anyway, all my potential backup was nonexistent. I had friends on the run,” you paused, glancing at Steve with a somber expression. “And other friends literally fighting another battle on their home planet somewhere in space. So, I went alone.”

“While I was bleeding out from a bullet my own father ordered, Tony was already up in space. Loki was already dead.”

You hoped no one commented on Loki’s role in your life. He wasn’t exactly a nice figure to suddenly name drop in New York, but he was important in your grief. 

It was slightly unnerving to be on display here, but you weren’t exactly planning on returning. You just needed to rant. 

“I stitched myself up the best I could in that quinjet - which I almost crashed,” you muttered, smirking at Steve. “Sorry, Cap.”

“This is the first time I've heard you flew. You’re not even authorized to fly,” Steve declared, face scrunched in confusion and astonishment. 

“That’s not important,” you teased. “But the stitches were messy work. Horrible criss-crosses.”

Steve was in a tiny state of shock. He had known what happened to you, but to hear you talk so casually about the day before the world went to shit - it just made it more real. 

You had mentioned before that you never dreamed about the snap, but about everything leading up to it. 

“I woke up, betrayed yet again by my own blood, and Steve was suddenly there after two years. We were gonna fight an outside threat.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and huffed lightly, “I was still healing but I was on the battlefield. Stayed close to Nat most of the time.”

The group was heavily invested in your retelling. “I couldn’t fight him, obviously. But I did see him. I saw how he ripped that stone from my friend’s head.”

A few winces sounded around the circle. 

“I guess I feel immense guilt. Like, I could have done something more even though realistically, I couldn’t. Kinda feels like I sat back and watched my friend’s die.”

No one spoke, but it was obvious everyone had survivor’s guilt. 

“And now, I’m living with the pain of having all three of my best friends stripped from me while also celebrating the fact that the snap took my father.”

Shrugging, you gave your last sad smile to the group. “I feel guilty for what happened while also being grateful it took someone who deserved it.”

After a few seconds of silence, Steve spoke. “You’re here today to tell your story. No one has to agree or disagree with you. It’s your story. Tell it like it is.”

You chuckled, “I could easily bother Steve with this at the compound.” You smiled at the teenager clutching what looked like a stuffed animal in his lap. “But I had nothing else to do tonight. My only friends are gone.”

“You and Steve aren’t friends?”

This time it was Michael that spoke, his eyes bouncing from you to Steve. You turned to Steve for some kind of answer. Was it a yes? Were you more like coworkers than true friends? 

Steve’s eyes softened and his kind smile was back. 

You answered, “I guess. I did come here for him.”

Steve rolled his eyes and kept his light-hearted tone, “I’m really glad you did.” 

Steve backtracked, clearing his throat as he addressed the circle. “I’m really glad all of you did. Same time next week.”

You busied yourself with stacking the chairs and dusting off your pants. Once most of the group had left, Steve gathered his things and walked over to you. “You take the subway?”

Your head shot up at the sound of his voice, and you stacked the final chair high. “I did. You drive?”

Steve hummed in response, “Want a lift?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, “You’re not staying at your place tonight?”

“Nah, I haven’t seen Nat in a week. I should pay her a visit.”

He curled his jacket around your shoulders as you exited the building. You held it tightly, relishing in the comfort. The walk back to the car was quiet but not awkward. After such a heavy night, silence was most definitely needed. And just the comfort of being around someone you trusted added to the relaxation aspect of it all. 

Steve kicked a loose piece of gravel to the street. You watched him for a few seconds before you spoke, voice light and a puff of cold air escaping your lips. 

“Steve?” 

He turned to you and waited for you to continue speaking. 

“You know Sam would be so proud of you doing this, right?”

Steve watched the cold air leave his own lungs as well. He felt the weight of that statement pressing down on his shoulders as he looked up at the dark sky. “I know.”

     Steve knew he was utterly fucked, so fucked that any line that had been established was stepped over and kicked a thousand yards back. His mind was made up, he would not run, he would not succumb to some former mindset 2016 Steve would have fallen victim to. He was a new person, a completely different person than he was out of the ice and after the snap. He deserved to cross the line, he deserved whatever happiness was afforded to him - he deserved comfort in the arms of another after years of denying himself. 

He downed the rest of his drink with a loud gulp, mind made up, and headed back to your room. 

    It was best to just pretend it never happened… no? But did you want to pretend it never did? So many moments over the years where this could have happened, where either of you could have literally just said ‘fuck it’. As overthinking was a specialty, quite a useless skill, you thought about the countless fights you had. 

Red in the face, hands clenched until nails imprinted little crescents, absolutely seething at the mouth. Some of the things you would yell were vile, none at all honest but with the intent to cause pain for only a moment, and mumbled apologies later. You were literally enemies for these past two, long years. Enemies who had to be seated and scolded, tricked into accepting defeat and living as teammates once more. 

Perhaps one of those arguments could have been remedied by simply leaning in like you had tonight, by throwing each other against the wall, by pulling the roots of your hair as he tugged-

Nope. 

Nope. 

No matter how much tension you were now realizing you had for this man, tension that could literally be fucked out, wasn’t it too late to act on it? You couldn’t pinpoint the chance you maybe had and missed. 

Steve walked through the door in the middle of your rapid brainstorming. He just grinned sweetly and slipped into the bathroom. 

As simple as that. 

Now you couldn’t discern between the feelings of wanting to fight him or fuck him. Not being able to differentiate between them ignited a sour mood, and once he stepped out from the shower, you basically pushed him to the side to lock yourself in. 

Even the warm water hitting your body couldn’t alleviate the pressure of overthinking. You disregarded your hair tonight and instead just washed your body. As quick as you could jump back out and go to bed, the better.  

Sucking in a deep breath, you opened the door and shut off the bathroom light. Your eyes landed on Steve’s torso, shirtless and the only thing not covered by the white blanket. He hadn’t shaved his beard either, the length evident when he kissed you earlier. It felt wrong and right at the same time, a battle that you seriously did not want to deal with. To get involved with your mission partner was dangerous - not because Steve himself was dangerous, but because it was a giant distraction. A distraction that you couldn’t afford. 

But as he put down his book and lay it in his lap, looking up to look at you through hooded eyes, sleepy but alert, the ‘danger’ was nothing but enticing. 

You cleared your throat and padded down your pajama shorts absentmindedly, slinging your hair over one shoulder and focusing on plugging your charger into your phone. It was so silent besides your pitter-patter, and god, did Steve find that sound so relaxing, until you climbed into bed. Once your shuffling was done, the slight buzzing of Steve’s desk lamp drowned out all your other senses. And the longer it was heard, the more it sounded like a ticking clock. 

Steve shut the lamp off, the only light now illuminating your figure from outside. He studied your breathing, watching how every so often you would bring your hand up to scratch your cheek or move a stray hair. You looked so gentle, so inviting, so small. 

You were turned away from him and facing the wall, eyes shut as you listened to his movements. There was a small part of you that wanted to stay up all night talking, to lean on his shoulder and simply feel his warmth, to feel that beard against your cheek one more time. As quickly as those thoughts flashed through your mind did you scold yourself, that this was inappropriate and wrong and so dangerous. 

You felt a dip in your bed, heavy and unsure, a lift of your blankets, and it happened so quickly that you could have sworn you dreamt it. Steve wrapped his arm around you, his broad chest pressed tightly against your back and his lips attacked the skin just below your earlobe. Your breath hitched, eyes shot open, and your hands reached up to grip his wrist. Steve stilled. 

“Tell me to stop,” he breathed, lips hovering over your blushing skin and breath practically blistering. You could feel him now, hard and pulsing against your ass and ready to move. You felt dizzy, overcome with such a rush of desire that you couldn’t help but stiffen in his tight grasp. 

“Don’t,” you choked out, feeling his body become rigid and his breath begin to quicken. 

“I’m sorry I-” he began to move away from you, voice no longer a whisper and tainted with panic. 

“No,” you pulled back, tilting your head up to lock eyes with him. You brought your arm up to grasp the back of his head, and you tugged it back to your neck. “Don’t stop.”

Yeah, he was utterly fucked. “Fuck,” he groaned, continuing the attack on your neck. But he gained momentum now, arm squeezing you against him tighter, and voice cracking as he moaned your name. 

“Steve, please do something.”

Your hands found their way back to his arm, gripping it tightly as he fumbled with the waistband of your shorts. He played with it, teasing in his actions, almost as punishment for the years you tormented him with your attitude. His lips pressed harder now, finding each patch of available skin on your neck and flushed cheek, and Steve has never felt so aroused in his life. He wasn’t even inside you, but the quick gasps he heard from you did plenty in aiding the rush of blood from his head to his stiffening cock. 

“Tell me what you want. Please, tell me and I’ll give it to you,” he moaned, the slightest experimental role of the hips causing you to whimper. 

“Touch me,” you practically sobbed, rolling your hips back against him, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt all of him.  

And just like that, he gave you what you asked for. He gripped your hip and shoved you closer to him, hot and ready and pressed firmly against you. He rolled his hips into you, little whimpers of his own touching your sensitive ear. He quickened his pace and he found it hard to think straight when the scrunch of pleasure all over your face, making you look so willing, was all he was focused on. He focused on the way you bit your lip, a bite and then a gasp, and then you were back to biting as if you were trying to restrain any higher moan. And even with only the moonlight illuminating the room, he could see the sun-kissed color of your skin and the bruising he was causing. He kept his mouth on you as he rocked himself against you, indulging in a few more selfish seconds of pleasure before becoming his generous self. 

He dipped his hand into your shorts and found the sweet nub that so desperately needed attention. His brain almost short circuited, the feeling of his fingers finally sliding into your wet lips making his throat dry. He drew little but skilled circles, each twirl of his index and middle finger in unison with the grind of his hips. Your mouth fell open by such pleasure, and you braced yourself by placing your left palm on the mattress and pressed down, nails scratching the cotton fabric and alerting Steve of your excitement. You pushed back against him, timed and in perfect harmony. 

You knew the room wasn’t on fire, but even if it was you didn’t think to check. 

“Keep talking to me, Y/N. Keep talking to me,” Steve begged, each rotation of his hips gaining pressure. His eagerness prompted you to reach back up and grab him by the hair, yanking his head to your tilted one and smashing his lips against yours. Steve gasped at the pleasant sting, somewhat surprised with himself that he liked that form of roughness. But who was he to judge his kinks when the tip of your nose was turning redder, the blush in your cheeks mixed with barely visible silver droplets of sweat, and a purple outline was beginning to form on your plump upper lip? 

The kiss was sloppy, uncoordinated, but still beneficial in getting Steve to rut against you even harder. 

He could so easily pull your shorts down and enter you, and if he was anything like he felt, then you knew it would sting. But you craved that sting and stretch, the thought of him inside you causing another gush of desire to leak from you. Steve dipped his finger deeper into you only to accumulate your juices and spread them higher. He went back to rubbing expertly, actions gaining speed to match your whimpers. 

“Fuck, Steve,” you moaned louder, and you swore you felt tears forming in the corner of your eyes. You pressed back harder, his hand rubbing and pressing down on your stomach simultaneously. Your head felt cloudy, the pleasure coursing through your veins and to the very tips of your toes. “Oh, my fuck.”

Steve paused his fingers to trail his hand back up your stomach and to your breasts, pulling your tank top down to spill them. The sounds leaving your throat set him on fire, desire pulsing everywhere - his head, his heart, his aching cock that was pressed so closely against you that he could feel you vibrating. He pinched your nipple and rolled it, closing his eyes in response to your dirty purrs. “Let me make you come, doll.”

“Wasn’t that the point?” you quipped, ass tilting at an angle that caused Steve to choke. He growled from the attitude he couldn’t believe you still fucking had during a moment like this and kissed you roughly, both your broken moans molding into one. His hand returned to your shorts. 

“Do that again,” he begged, hitching his leg up to rest on yours. The angle allowed him to drive his hips even harder. You maneuvered to provide the same tilt, grinning at the pleasurable cries that left your Captain’s mouth. 

“I think I’m gonna make you come first,” you chuckled and took his bottom lip between your teeth. You pulled lightly, concentration still in the circle of your hips. He looked back down at you, determination and undeniable lust in his eyes. He thrust his aching cock against you, sliding himself over your ass. He did it hard but slow, the pressure applied giving the head of his cock such a sweet squeeze as he bumped it against the curve of your lumbar spine. 

The heavy duvet was abandoned now, cold air from the hotel air conditioner failing in cooling you down at all. You both had a thin sheet of sweat on your clothed bodies, goosebumps standing proudly, and lips all plump and red from your harsh kissing. 

Steve held you so close, so tight, and his fingers were drawing such rushed and tiny circles that you swore his wrist had to be cramping up. But the sound of both your whimpers started to mesh together, alerting you of such a sweet climax up ahead. 

“Steve, fuck, fuck, ohh,” you mewled, voice now high pitched and yes, it turned Steve on incredibly but it also fueled you. Your pornographic moans ignited an even deeper desire within you, just the true fact that Steve was touching you, Steve was getting you to make these sounds, Steve is actually hearing these sounds, Steve is making the same exact sounds. 

 “I-, please, come for me,” Steve pleaded, cock twitching with each thrust as he neared his end. “Make me come.”

His begging, his equally high voice, his skilled fingers rubbing rapidly and the slight pain from that, his breath burning your neck, were all too powerful, their combinations causing the fire in your core to explode and make you see white in a flash, black dots later clouding your vision. Your nails dug into his moving arm, crescents branded into him. You clenched around nothing, walls fluttering and thighs shaking as they pressed around his hand and fingers. 

The inappropriate squelching sound of your juices spreading as your thighs clenched around his cramping fingers, the slide so sensual and dirty, had Steve rutting against you one, two, three more times before he came in hard but long spurts. His mouth hung open, breath still fanning your neck, and his eyes were so tightly shut that the force was enough to strain them. 

“Oh, fuuuck, yes, yes!” Steve groaned, his body taking longer than usual to recover. His orgasm was powerful, more powerful than when he got himself off in the shower or in the comfort of his bed at night, and he knew it was because you clouded his senses. Of course, there was an added benefit to getting off with someone else, aiding that person in the same endeavor, but because it was you, it made the climax even more forceful, more intense. The whole situation was both unexpected and calculated, gentle and rough, and Steve’s heart was beating so fast by the thought of what just occurred that he found himself wanting to spill into you all night long, and to apologize for overstepping an unspoken boundary. 

You could feel the wetness of both your own release and Steve’s, head still cloudy from such a sharp orgasm. You hummed in satisfaction, reaching your arm over once again to lift his head up by his hair. He hissed at the pull now, his body all fucked out and satisfied. “You good?”

Steve gave you a lazy smile, chest heaving in unison with yours. “I’m okay. You?”

“I’m good.”

Steve scanned your face for any regret just in case your words held other meaning, but all he could see was your satisfied expression, cheeks still flushed pink, hair tangled, and pupils dilated. He hesitated for a second before he leaned down and connected your lips, molding his with yours slowly and chastely. You both sighed at the feeling, highs now lowering and the coldness from the air conditioner causing a different set of goosebumps to appear. Steve pulled away, giving you one last peck as if testing the waters, and rested his forehead against yours. You both relished your post-orgasm bliss for a few silent minutes before cleaning up. 

You shared playful shoves as you cleaned up. It was almost innocent, a huge contrast to the sinful activities you two had just committed, but there was a genuine feeling of understanding in the room. Your heart clenched at the simple sight of Steve washing his hands, eyes meeting his in the mirror, a soft look in his that startled you. 

You gave him a smile so as to not alert him of your reaction, and exited the bathroom to climb back into bed. You drew the heavy duvet back over your body and cuddled in it deeply, chin hidden underneath and back facing Steve’s bed. It was a few more minutes before Steve came back into the room, shutting the light off, and looking at your resting form. He wanted to climb back in with you and hold you innocently, to have the feeling of your warm back against his broad chest, gentle exhales tickling the arm that would wrap around you. But he just looked back and forth from your bed and his, and he decided to not push the boundary further. He hesitated with this decision, but climbed into his own bed, the feeling of his cold sheets making him immediately regret it. He shuffled silently, his body facing yours. 

You wanted to lay beside him too. But whether you were making a smart decision or an absurd, cowardly one, one thing was certain: you could no longer ignore the stacking of such emotions you had for this man. 

It almost angered you, how much you denied yourself of even a simple crush for literally ten years, and it made you mad at Steve, too. Because if he hadn’t pushed you away, then maybe you could have accepted this sooner. 

~

TAGLIST: @dumb-ass-writer @justab-eautifulmess @supraveng @mycosmicparadise @missnighttigress​

[tamhrayis]

I brought a theory from Reddit.

Disclaimer:

I am here to not disrespect the author by any means. I simply have questions as a person who is reading it and pointed out which parts are confusing. It’s up to you to believe this theory or not.

What’s more, reborn Ymir will be in the same position as 2000 years ago – the Founding Titan's shifter. BUT, this time she's free. Therefore, once she pops out and gets her abilities back, she can do whatever she wants with them. She no longer needs to be commanded by royals, which gives her the ideal opportunity to conclude everything. [How does Eren know that an infant can assist him in such an endeavour?]

Well...Ymir was definitely not free, but Ymir wasn’t born with her abilities. She got them because of hallucigenia attached to her back when she fell into that water in the tree. She wasn’t born special.

Another point. How Ymir being born with titan powers will stop the cycle of hatred?

Zeke’s death was a necessary distraction, deliberately included by Isayama to divert our attention. It tricked us into thinking that the baby inheriting Zeke’s titan is relevant as it would help Eren resume the Rumbling. But that’s not the case. The child will indeed inherit the Beast but what’s important here is the baby inheriting the Founder (what Isayama tried to hide behind Zeke’s death). Also, his death served the purpose of stopping the Rumbling as it is not needed anymore. Most of the world's population is already massacred. [What was the point of Zeke dying? Will the baby inherit the Beast Titan?]

Hm...Yeah, Zeke’s death indeed helped to stop the rumbling, because Eren could reach the Paths because of him and killing him stopped the whole process, but why would Isayama make such a distraction at the last third chapter of the whole manga? Shouldn’t he kill Zeke before, so Eren and Historia’s plan would work and it had more screen time?

“In a vision, Eren saw that Ymir will be reborn after his death. He told Historia that he has to figure out which random child will inherit the Founder”. [“What would you think… about me having a child?”]

Which vision? Ch.1 or after kissing Historia’s hand? Ch.1 vision was Eren and Mikasa’s shared dream and we still don’t know what exactly Eren saw while kissing Historia’s hand.

Of course it’s safe to say that it was his future memories, but it yet has to be revealed.

Random child. How Eren can predict that the baby will be Historia’s? Does he know how many pregnant women are there on Paradise? Okay, let’s say that it’s FT and Paths magic, but can he control which child will be born with Founder’s powers?

It would also explain why Historia didn't appear in Ch. 138 – if Isayama showed the baby coming out seconds after Mikasa decapitated Eren then it would’ve been obvious what’s going on.[“What would you think… about me having a child?”]

Chapters are 45 pages long. Why Isayama didn’t cut out some panels and didn’t put it here? Why not to show it right after the kiss page? Distraction?

Moreover, Ymir is smiling at Eren and Mikasa not simply because she saw affection. Yes, she does care about bonds but another thing could be that Eren's plan downed on her – she connected the dots and figured out that it's now her turn to contribute and complete the mission Eren wordlessly gave her. I believe next chapter will start with her disappearing from inside the Founder's mouth and switch to her being born. [“What would you think… about me having a child?”]

Okay! I agree with the part that Ymir smiled at Mikasa and Eren because of the affection they showed to each other and the part that she will contribute to the “mission”.

They showed affection to each other. Why would Eren show affection to Mikasa if he is having a child with the woman he loves?

What about the hallucigenia? Will it still stay there or disappear with her?

Immediately after she cries for the first time, all Eldians will perhaps be summoned in Paths, where Eren will be waiting. To their surprise, he will announce the end of the Titan Age. Then, Ymir will make the command and Paths will begin collapsing. Eren will hold her in his arms as all traces of titans disappear. "You're free." will collectively be directed to Ymir and all of her Subjects. [What will happen after she is reborn?]

Hold on. Can the power of Founder be shared between two people? Is it like One for All? If Ymir was born with FT, doesn’t that mean that Eren no longer has FT, AT and WHT? How Ymir can summon them? She is an infant. She doesn’t have a proper consciousness to purposely summon everyone into Paths. Where AT and WHT will go? To random Eldian children or Ymir?

It has always been suspicious as to why Eren teased Zeke about them not reaching "the part where he eats their old man". It's strange that Grisha gave Eren the power of the titans when beforehand he begged Zeke to stop him. The only logical thing would be that Eren showed him what I described above: the resolution. [What did Eren show Grisha?]

Wait. Why would Grisha be this heartbroken and scared if Eren showed him the resolution? He doesn’t look like crying from happiness. Sure, he was crying because he killed children and others, but why would he look at Zeke like that? He was in literal pain.

What used to be nonsensical before is now super logical. Grisha and Kruger were not helping the Alliance because Armin’s TnJ (talk no jutsu) worked. They aided them because beforehand Eren revealed the truth of what is to come and that they will NEED to kill him in order for Historia’s baby to inherit the Founder. Basically, they didn't feel sympathy for Marley all of a sudden – instead, they were helping Eren in liberating Eldians from titans. [Why did Grisha and Kruger help the Alliance? Why did Ymir revive them if they were going to go against Eren?]

Well...Besides Grisha and Kruger, Marcel, Ymir, Mr. Xavier, Porco and Bertholdt were there. Did they want to help Eren too?

As it has been confirmed by Isayama's notes on Ch. 138, it’s not an AU. So we should probably forget about time loops. It's a dream. Eren entered it (through Paths, duh) as he wanted to convince Mikasa to behead him as fast as possible as they have no time left. Him joining her is why Aaron Yogurt dream Eren got shifter marks on his face and why in Ch. 1, he saw this particular moment. [What’s up with Mikasa’s hallucinations?]

Oh! “A long dream” topic again. I went to the link author put and this is what I see (see below).

Okay, let’s say that he entered it via Paths, but why not to straightforwardly say that? Why to create a dream where they live happily? Why to show this hug, “I want to live with you for the rest of my 4 years”?

I don’t really like the time loop concept myself, because I don’t like time travel stuff, but why then he saw the exact same dream in ch.1? Something is not clicking.

The former will likely return to being humans. There’s no reason for them to disappear as they’re material beings that exist in the physical world – what will be removed is just titanization. Plus, with this, Eren will keep his promise of his friends living long lives. Though, this is something I cannot predict properly and just speculation. The latter will be free from the Curse of Ymir (good luck, Reiner, no dying for you). [What will happen to the titanized Eldians and titan shifters?]

Fully agree! No debate.

There's no question really. I feel like it should be self-explanatory after everything discussed so far. The farmer being Ymir's father would be a more shocking twist than Eren being the dad. [Is it sure that Eren is the father?]

Why wouldn’t Isayama add a plot twist into his story? It’s not hard to do. But Isayama’s plot twists work because he visually foreshadows it or uses characters’ dialogues. He already has showed us farmer. Why he is here? For cover up? Why would Isayama put these words if farmer is unnecessary? Why not to add more information?

To stop the cycle of violence and hate once and for all. If Eren removed titan powers without the Rumbling, most people (especially Marleyans) would’ve still despised Eldians and they would've just been defenseless. So Eren wanted to prevent that. [Why did the Rumbling have to occur?]

I agree with this. Rumbling was a cause for people to work and stop fighting each other as I said here. Rumbling plan was very risky, but it was unavoidable, because Marley is way more advanced and Paradise would terribly lose. Good point!

But why would Historia, who has decided to live for herself agree with Eren’s plan? How would she benefit from it? Okay, she and Historia are in love, but why would she want the person she loves to become a mass murderer? Why she couldn’t stop him? Why she was crying when he told his plan? She is a royal blood after all too! They could come up with another plan which wouldn’t involving Zeke.

I assume it would just die/disappear/go back to the tree it emerged from. [What about hallucigenia?]

Where’s that tree? How it will get there?

In conclusion, the theory isn’t bad, but it would work if Historia and Eren had more set up, the importance of Zeke would be explored a little more here and ch.138 didn’t have clear symbolism between Eren and Mikasa. There’re some holes, but the author gave some good points, which is truly appreciated!

[lilbabycee]

bunny // steve rogers (part two) 🐰

READ PART ONE

↳ summary: the reader gets an unwelcome visitor

↳ relationship: soft dark!steve rogers x brat!reader

↳ word count: 5.3k

↳ warnings: sugar baby au, eventual dark steve, daddy kink, eventual smut, mentions of substance abuse, unhealthy coping mechanisms + relationships, the reader is rich and a little bit of a bitch

↳ author’s note: it’s back! :) enjoy my loves! x

chapter two: it was for me too

---

"if you really listen, then this is to you mama, there is only so much I can do tough for you to witness it but it was for me too"

- r.i.p 2 my youth, the neighbourhood

---

You can do nothing but nod dumbly, eyes roaming the large figure standing in front of you. The only thing that snaps you out of your trance is Natasha’s quiet exhalation of breath through her nose, her little laugh making you woman up and place your hand in Steve’s larger one.

“Likewise,” you speak lightly, your words little more than puffs of air escaping your mouth. His eyes don’t leave yours for a second and the longer you look at his face, the more that you start to believe that you know him from somewhere. But he drops your hand the moment that recognition starts to claw at your brain and the up-and-down look that he gives you snaps you out of any deep thought.

“So, bunny,” a teasing voice comes from beside you, causing you to tear your eyes away from Steve’s. From the way he’s smirking at you, you assume that Sam was the one who spoke up. Turning your whole body away from Steve, you saunter up to the handsome man glowing like bronze underneath the warm light and take the drink he pours for you with a sultry smile - and you know that you should never take drinks from strangers but without really knowing why, you already trust this man.

“That’s me,” you throw him a wink, sipping from the glass slowly.

“Where’d you get a name like that?” He pats the arm of the sofa and as your smile grows, you perch yourself on it, crossing one leg over the other. Natasha follows your lead, situating herself on an armchair to your right, in between the couch that Steve sits on and the one that holds you, Bucky, and Sam. You open your mouth about to answer Sam’s question, but Natasha swiftly steps in.

“I gave it to her,” she grins, running a hand through her loose waves. You can see both Sam and Bucky’s eyes follow her movements which makes you laugh a little, the hunger displayed in both the pools of brown and blue almost overtly obvious.

“Why?” Bucky’s voice rasps, his tongue coming out to wet his lips. Your eyes can’t help but follow the movement - you’re not blind and he’s a very attractive man - but you stop short when you realize that someone is searing holes into the back of your neck. Looking to the side, you can see that Steve has sat down in his previous seat, hands resting on thick thighs and legs spread wide.

His eyes are on you - unflinchingly, you note, even as yours meet his; it’s obvious that he saw your eyes glued to Bucky’s lips. You engage in a quick staring match and even though you’re not usually the type to back down easily, the way that your face heats up and his gaze makes you feel has you looking away after merely a few seconds.

Your eyes refocus on Natasha and stay there.

“It’s because she’s like the energizer bunny,” your best friend snorts, taking the proffered glass of rosé from Sam’s hand and taking a sip. Her statement makes all the men laugh - apart from Vision because he’s too busy whispering in Wanda’s ear for him to be involved in the rest of the conversation and by Wanda’s reaction, you can tell that their conversation isn’t exactly fit for public consumption.

Natasha continues, tracing a finger along the rim of her glass, “Once she gets on something, it’s… she’s, like, stuck on it, you know? Can’t get enough of it - she goes crazy over it, gets super excited and stuff. It’s cute-”

You interrupt her with a groan, causing a chorus of laughs and ooh’s to rise from the group. “Nat- I-I don’t even like that nickname anyway. I’d rather you call me literally anything else-”

“Okay, bunny,” Bucky grins at you and you reach over Sam to swat at his very hard arm, all traces of your previous nervousness having dissipated with the alcohol. Your hand comes back sore but to humor you, you suppose, Bucky recoils from you and dramatically sinks down in his chair, wailing exaggeratedly.

“Sounds good, bunny,” Sam joins in, flashing you a cheeky smile that only earns him a blow on his equally thick bicep that leaves your hand stinging but he too rubs at his arm after drawing a sharp intake of air through his teeth. They’re funny, so you throw your head back and laugh - really laugh - and find yourself slipping off the side of the couch and into Sam’s lap. You let out a little squeal as Natasha and Bucky laugh at you.

“Whoa there, bunny,” Sam chuckles, hands immediately coming up to grip your waist tightly. “Slow your roll.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, but you’re only mock-annoyed: “Christ, Sam, take a girl out on a date first.”

The response you get from the man underneath you is mirthful - “You’re the one who landed on me, darlin’” - and causes you to smile, but then you feel it again , his eyes so intently focused on the side of your face. You choose to ignore it because if this guy has a staring problem, he can take it up with-

“-you,” Bucky flicks Sam’s ear playfully. “I get plenty of women.”

“Oh yeah, Barnes? ‘Cause your lap is lookin’ awfully empty -”

And the two go back and forth like this for what seems like an eternity. You know that you’ve lost Wanda to Viz , the seat that they once occupied currently vacant. You kind of want to be annoyed at her because she promised that she’d help you with what you really came here for in the first place, but you can’t because, for the past few weeks, you and Natasha have kind of maybe been avoiding her to some degree because, really and truly, she’s been such an uptight bitch - and you say that in the nicest way possible - so you want her to get some dick in peace so that she can release all of that backed-up tension.

You love her, really, but a sexually frustrated Wanda has the potential to rival your mother in terms of how completely unbearable they are to be around.

You turn to speak to Natasha but then Steve clears his throat loud enough for everyone to hear which causes all chatter to cease. He sighs loudly, running a hand over his bearded jaw before he speaks. You can’t help but take some more time to admire the beauty of his jawline, so defined and sharp that you wonder if it could cut up the skin on the insides of your thighs-

“I mean, while I’d love to continue this,” Steve checks his Rolex, “we should probably get down to what you girls really came for.” His eyes land pointedly on you, and you realize that you’re still sat comfortably on Sam’s lap. You sit back even further, wrapping your arm around Sam’s shoulders. Steve’s fists are clenched so hard that you’re sure that his blunt nails are digging into the palms of his hands.

You decide that you’re not going to move.

“Right,” your best friend leans forward to put her empty glass on the coffee table where your own lies and clears her throat. She then says your name and gestures vaguely to where you’re sitting, “she’s looking for an arrangement similar to what Wanda and Vision have-”

“-and since Wanda isn’t here to help us explain exactly what all of that consists of,” you butt in, pressing your long thumbnail to your lower lip and pushing it into your mouth, “we were wondering if you gentlemen would be kind enough to help us out?”

Natasha’s head snaps to yours, her eyebrow raised in a way that says this is not what we agreed on and you reply with it’s fine, but then she responds with why don’t we just wait for Wanda and you don’t even think that warrants a reply. You give her a deadpan look and she physically holds her hands up in surrender; you both know that Wanda’s not coming home with the two of you tonight. The three men around you look lost so you direct your attention back to them.

“So?” you follow up, sucking lightly on the end of your nail. Even from where you’re sitting, you can see Steve’s darkened eyes - his pupils are blown and they only leave a thin ring of blue around them. The rise and fall of his broad chest has gotten just that little bit faster.

He’s so pretty.

“The arrangements are different for all of us,” Bucky downs the amber liquid in his glass. “So it’d just depend on who you’re interested in gettin’ to know, doll. Got anyone in mind right off the bat?”

Oh wow - you didn’t expect to be put on the spot like this so early into this conversation. But you don’t mind; the pressure or awkwardness that should come with a question like this in a situation as unique as this one doesn’t come. You only smile coyly, batting your eyelashes and looking down.

“Oh, well,” you start shyly, swinging your legs innocently. “I don’t really know about all that yet-”

“It’s alright, bunny,” the voice ignites a fire in your veins so you know who’s just spoken. “We’ll make this decision easy for you. She’s mine, boys.”

This makes you choke yet again, causing you to clear your throat loudly. Your fingertips press down on your cheeks just to see how warm your face really is from this blatant stake of his claim on you. Normally, you’d be the first one to protest, completely indignant that this man thinks that he owns you in any capacity. But there’s none of that kind of passion here; rather, you’re more- no, probably not- no, definitely turned on by his words.

The two other men, much like Natasha did only a minute ago, throw their hands up in acquiescence. In fact, they both seem so moved by Steve’s words that they trip over each other to speak.

“Yeah, that’s all good, man.”

“Sounds good to me, pal.”

There’s a lull in the conversation while you all digest the implications of Steve’s exclamation. You twist your fingers together, scraping your nails against each other.

“So,” you drag out the last syllable. “Is there some kind of… contract or something?”

---

You wake up in a bed that feels far too crowded to be your own. There’s a body wrapped around yours, another set of legs intertwined with yours and an arm draped over your torso. In your groggy state, it takes all the willpower that you can summon to turn your head to the left and check who the fuck is sleeping in next to you in- your bed (???).

The hand of the arm that isn’t currently being pinned down by another human being comes up to rub at your eyes, clearing up your bleary vision so that you can try to successfully identify your intruder.

You could say that you’ve never woken up in a situation like this but that would be a lie and your New Year’s resolution this year was that you’d try to be more honest - so the truth is that this is definitely not the first time that you’ve woken up in a situation like this and if anything, this is probably the safest you’ve felt out of all of those scenarios.

Half of the person’s head is buried underneath the duvet so you squint a little in the obnoxiously bright morning light - you silently curse the sun for not wanting to take a fucking day off today - so that you can try to make out a defining feature of the body on top of you. Once your eyes focus, the mop of red hair spread across the white sheets makes you groan and close your eyes again.

You honestly didn’t have a game plan if it wasn’t Natasha.

Confused, you attempt to think back to exactly what happened last night. Since you’ve woken up with Natasha, you give yourself the benefit of the doubt and assume that nothing too compromising happened last night. After nights like Peter’s, you normally cannot immediately recognize the person next to you, so you’re going to take this as a glass half full kind of moment and call it a plus.

Nothing illegal took place as far as you can remember which is another first for you - apart from your excessive underage drinking but you turn twenty-one in a year so you shrug it off.

Wow, maybe I am growing.

After your conversation with those men - there was no contract - you had sent Wanda a text to let her know that you and Natasha were heading home. There was nothing at this party that you hadn’t seen before, so frankly, your work there was done and you had no more business at Peter’s. Speaking of, you did manage to run into him right before you left just to say goodbye to him - ever the gracious guest - and tease him some more about MJ. Naturally, he turned redder than the burgundy suit pants he was wearing and gave both you and Nat kisses on the cheek before almost running away from the two of you.

That gave you a good laugh.

You were halfway to Nat’s car when none other than Steve Rogers appeared from the shadows to put your number on his phone. He said nothing other than I’ll call you before walking further down the valet parking to get his own car. Natasha beeped her horn at you when she saw you lingering - you were staring at his ass - so you hurried to hop in the passenger’s seat of her black sports car after she shouted for you to get in the Porsche or I’m leaving your ass on the side of the road.

And now your phone rings; you can’t help that the weaker side of your brain wants so badly for it to be Steve. He left you with a promise - albeit a vague one - and you think that you’re going to hold him to that, although you don’t know how exactly how you’d go about that since he’s the one who has your number.

Shit.

Natasha groans loudly at the shrill noise coming from your phone speakers, grabbing a pillow and shoving it over her face.

She says your name exasperatedly, “I thought I told you to put that shit on silent-”

“Sorry, sorry,” you tell her, rolling your eyes because you don’t remember her telling you that, and then you sit up. At this moment, you realize that you actually aren’t in your own apartment and are in Natasha’s very grey and white bedroom that you always have something critical to say about. Reaching for your phone, you’re shocked that it’s not dead and is at a respectable 16%. The caller ID shows you nothing useful - unknown caller - and this only gives you some more hope that it’s the handsome man you met last night. You clear your throat before pressing that green button.

“Hello?” you wince at the dryness of your throat, spying an unopened water bottle next to where your phone lay. You grab it and pop the cap hastily, taking a swig while you wait for the reply of the other person.

A very distinctly feminine squeal makes you sigh in disappointment before you pause, the familiar voice making you smile sleepily.

“Shit- fuck, get out of my way- brother-” the person says your name loudly and you know by the rich accent and the impatient tone that it’s-

“Shuri,” you muster up as much enthusiasm as you can for a call this early in the morning - you pull your phone back from your ear to see that it’s actually already 10:33 a.m and wince - because you are actually genuinely excited to hear from your Wakandan best friend. Natasha pulls the pillow off her face at the sound of the girl’s voice through the speaker, and a grin of her own lights up her face.

“Hi, bitch!” Shuri yells and you close your eyes, shaking your head but smiling nonetheless. “I’m almost at your place - I’ll be there in ten.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of your chest and you rub the sleep out of your eyes. “Whose phone are you calling from? And Shuri, I’m not at home right now-”

“‘Koye’s - mine’s dead and in the back. Are you with Nat?”

“Well, yeah-”

“Are you two fucking? Without me? ”

The redhead next to you can’t contain her laughter either, curled up in the sheets next to you gasping for breaths.

“Sorry to break it you like this, babe,” you play along. “No, Peter had a party last night-”

“I know - I heard about it. Sounded like fun, but my Baba and I had to do some appearances in D.C yesterday before we came to this goddamn crowded city- brother, I’ll call it whatever I want to call it - Bast, get out of the car.”

There’s some rustling and the sound of a car door slamming before Shuri releases a deep, tired breath.

“I didn’t know you were coming this week,” Natasha has sidled up next to you, resting her head on your shoulder so that Shuri can hear her voice after putting your phone on speaker.

“Neither did I,” the Wakandan princess snorts, the sound of deafening car horns and faint yelling in the background almost drowning out her lilted tone. “It was kind of a last-minute decision. But enough about me - you don’t care about all this stuff. I heard you guys met with Bucky Barnes last night-”

“How do you know Bucky?” You frown, picking at your nails.

“Long story,” she says flippantly, sighing before clearing her throat. “But that’s not the point - I know what kinda guy Bucky Barnes is. What kinda business did you two have hanging around people like that?”

“Well, I wanna hear the story-”

“Shut up,” Natasha doesn’t even look at you when she says the words. “We’re- actually, it’s not even me- she’s looking for a-”

“-sugar daddy?!” Shuri exclaims so loud that both you and Natasha flinch as you move the phone further away from you. Maybe putting her on speaker was a mistake. “What- no, Okoye, not me...yes I’m sure,” the princess’ voice becomes more hushed, “bunny...what do you of all people need a sugar daddy for, miss princess of New York?”

Nat chortles louder than you like so you shoot her a glare, smacking a pillow over her face before redirecting your attention back to the confused girl over the phone. “Daddy cut me off and-”

Shuri;’s laugh is completely mocking and would definitely be offensive if it were anyone else, but you can do nothing but sit there and pout. Natasha’s laughter becomes louder and you roll your eyes, standing up and stretching your arms over your head. You throw your phone at your best friend, causing her to almost fall off the side of the bed trying to dodge it.

“Shut up, both of you,” you scowl. “Shuri, let me know when you’re here - I’m going to go take a shower and reflect on my taste in friends. You guys are both the worst-”

Already halfway inside the en-suite, you only hear a faint chorus of “ We love you too!” before the lock clicks behind you.

---

When you stroll out of the private elevator that leads directly to your apartment, you’re staring at something funny that Shuri’s sent you on Instagram as you walk through the front door, a blindingly white smile on your face. The chunky black and white Balenciaga sneakers on your feet pound the floor lightly and your hand comes up to tug absent-mindedly at one of the strings of Natasha’s black hoodie before running it down the leg of the matching cycling shorts. You push your sunglasses to the top of your head, the minty flavor of your gum filling your tastebuds and the loud sound of your nails clicking against your phone screen echoing against your high walls and tall ceilings.

The sound of a throat clearing makes you blink hard, your eyelash extensions brushing your skin as you look up to determine the identity of your intruder.

Once you see who it is, you physically are unable to prevent the loud “fuck” from falling from your lips. So when she stands up from your couch in your living room with her arms folded over her breast implants and her full, fake lips pursed while her eyebrows shoot to her hairline, you can’t help but laugh, surprised that she can still look like a raging bitch with all that botox in her face. 

Her grating voice squeaks your name indignantly making you roll your eyes as you drop your oversized black bag by your shoe rack. Kicking off your trainers, you breeze right past her and flop down on one of your sofas, the plush material soothing your aching bones.

It’s been five days since Peter’s party and since then, Wanda had given both Bucky and Sam your number upon their request - you’ve been texting them all week. As much as you love your friends, these men are hands-down two of the funniest people that you’ve ever met. Despite your frequent conversations with his two best friends, there’s been radio silence from Steve Rogers. You don’t want to give these men the impression that you’re desperate - even though that’s exactly what you are - but you’re getting impatient. You don’t chase anybody; not once in your entire life has anyone made you work for their attention, so this whole situation is making you antsy.

You’ve just returned from the gym with Sam and Bucky where you were shocked to turn up outside only to see the two men shirtless, a huge but not unwelcome surprise in more than one way - “you have a fucking metal arm?!” - and it was truly a gift from above to essentially watch them work out from your place on the treadmill. You couldn’t even run - you almost fell on your goddamn face - because you were so distracted by the strong, glistening men across from you. You had instead slowed to a walk, texting Natasha and Shuri, sending them videos of these gorgeous men lifting seemingly impossibly heavy amounts with such ease and agility.

You couldn’t deny that it was making you feel things.

They then insisted that you should come and lift with them because “it’s rude to stare, bunny” and that was definitely less fun than just watching them.

And now here you sit, lounging carelessly and purposefully ignoring the presence of the woman sitting across from you. She sighs loudly, drumming her freshly-manicured red claws on the armrest of the couch, her eyes glued onto your face. Clearing her throat louder this time, you can feel the heat of her gaze on your profile burn hotter.

“Honey, are you just going to let me sit here all day?” your mother whines - like a child, you think - and flicks her hair face from her face.

“Yup,” you pop the ‘p’ and then fall silent, chewing your gum audibly, satisfied when you see her eye twitch in your periphery.

The two of you sit like this for a while, the deafening quiet weighing heavily on your mother’s shoulders. She’s always been a woman who’s liked to talk, fill moments of peace with mindless chatter and you’ve hated it all your life.

“Stop slouching,” your mother suddenly snaps, letting out yet another sigh, but one of relief as if it’s been painful for her to hold in her chest. With the silence effectively broken, you give a sigh of your own and finally meet her eyes, the same pretty color as yours shining back at you like a mirror. Then you assess the rest of her: the bleached blonde extensions, over-lined lips, and the designer coral pantsuit. You hold her gaze as you slip further down onto the couch, your posture even more relaxed than before. She narrows her own at you and a Chesire cat grin spreads on your face.

“You didn’t come here to correct my posture, mother,” you tell her, looking back at your phone, “so to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You haven’t been returning my calls,” she arches an eyebrow, dusting an imaginary piece of lint off of her pants, “even though I told your dad to tell you when you called him a week ago-”

“You don’t think there’s a reason that I’ve been dodging your calls?” you ask rhetorically, running the pad of your thumb over an eyebrow. Your birth giver cocks her head at you curiously, as if she’s truly confused as to why you don’t seem to like her-

“I don’t know why you don’t like me,” she states airily, examining her nails contemplatively. Your eyes dart back to hers in surprise, your jaw literally dropping because you’re that floored. “I’ve been nothing but kind to you-”

“Get out,” you say quietly, immediately shutting her up.

“What did you say to me?”

“I said get out,” you repeat, tossing your phone onto the couch behind you and standing up swiftly. Your mother is still sitting across from you, so you gesture with your hands so as to emphasize your point. “You should be lucky I haven’t fucking blacklisted you from this apartment-”

She exclaims your name, “-don’t cuss at me-”

You power through, “-after all you’ve done to me - so what I mean, mother, is get the fuck out of my apartment!”

Your voice carries through your home. When the echoes finally stop, the woman in front of you turns her nose up at you, clutches her taupe Birkin, and clicks those stupid stilettos all the way to your elevator. When she presses the button, she turns around to glare at you, failing to notice your defensive stance or how you’re fighting tears that you thought you’d already spent years crying out.

“Your father will be hearing about this,” she smirks and the doors open, bathing the side of her face in bright, artificial light. You don’t even look at her as the elevator chimes and the rose gold doors slide closed. But when they do, all of the breath leaves your body in a loud sob, your shaking hands coming up to wipe at your eyes.

The ringing of your phone interrupts you, the caller ID a number that you don’t recognize. In your current state, you answer it unthinkingly, not even registering that you’re about to be speaking to a total stranger.

“Hello?” You sniffle over the phone, running your sleeve over your cheeks to rid them of any tear tracks.

The person over the line greets you by saying your name in a deep tone that shoots straight to your panties, meaning that you know exactly who this is. It’s the call you’ve been waiting for the whole week and of all times, this is when he decides to pick up his damn phone and remember that you exist?

Motherfucker.

“Steve,” you breathe, gulping down large amounts of air to try and keep any residual tears at bay. “I-, uh, hi.”

His chuckle on the other end of the phone causes your cheeks to heat up because it should be illegal to sound like that. “Hi to you too, bunny-” you interrupt him with a shaky breath that’s louder than you anticipate, “-hold on, have you been crying?”

Shit, you think, massaging your temples. “Yeah,” you admit, sniffing again. It’s likely that your ears are deceiving you, but you think that you hear him groan, a sinful sound from deep in his throat that makes even more moisture pool in your underwear. “It’s not a big deal though - it’s nice to hear from you.”

“Are you doin’ okay?” he asks softly, making your heart do little flips in your chest.

“I’m fine,” you state almost automatically, hoping to brush off any concern and move on. You walk over to your fridge, scanning the contents before your eyes land on the row of clear, blue-capped bottles with a pink flower on the front. You put your phone on speaker and place it on the counter as you snatch one of the bottles of water from the shelf, cracking it open and taking a long swig from it.

“You don’t sound fine,” Steve protests, sounding borderline amused. “Maybe you can tell me all about it when I take you out to dinner tonight.”

He tells you mid-swig and of course, there’s no way for him to know his, but you’re so taken aback that you falter, subsequently choking on all of the water in your mouth. The coughs that wrack your body are violent, and there’s a burn in your throat from the strength of your body’s automatic reaction. You have to shut the fridge door and turn around, bracing a hand on the island counter where your phone lies.

“Sweetheart?” he probes, probably holding back a laugh but you can’t really discern whether or not that’s true over the ear-splitting sound of your coughing.

“Sorry, sorry,” you apologize, wheezing through the paralyzing attack on your body. “That sounds great - where are we going?”

You finally recover, taking another - slower - sip of your drink, tears stinging your eyes.

“Hey now,” Steve laughs again, and you can’t help but notice how carefree he is now compared to the night you met him. It makes you smile. “That’d be telling. Just be ready by 8 - I’ll get my driver-”

“-oh no, that’s okay - if you give the location to my driver, he can take me-”

“No,” his voice is booming, even through the phone, and it gives you pause. His authoritative tone should’ve made you cry, especially with all that’s happened in your past, but instead, a tidal wave of desire makes you shudder and threatens to pull you underneath the surface. “My driver will pick you up at 8,” he repeats and you press the power button on the side of your phone so it shows you the time: 2:49, “and I’ll send over something appropriate for you to wear. Are we clear?”

“Yeah,” you exhale, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip.

“I asked if we were clear, sweetheart,” his voice has taken on a warning tone now and you can’t deny the heat that courses through you.

“Yes, sir,” you give him the answer almost instinctively, frowning afterward because you feel like you’re in school.

“Good girl, bunny baby,” he coos and it’s this that makes you almost audibly moan.

You? A praise kink?

Absolutely.

“I’ll see you then, hmm, honey?” he prompts you to respond. Normally, you don’t let anybody that you’re romantically involved with call you honey because it reminds you so acutely of your mother, and you suspect that she knows that which is why she keeps calling you that stupid nickname. But with Steve, you already feel like you’re in no place to be making demands.

And for the first time in your life, that doesn’t bother you all that much.

“Yes, Steve,” your eyelashes flutter and you squeeze your thighs together, trying to ease yourself of the growing discomfort at your most sensitive area.

“Good, good,” he speaks, sounding distracted. “I’ve got a meeting now, bunny - talk later.”

You don’t even get an opportunity to say your own goodbye before he ends the call. You save him to your contacts quickly before you forget, and then a thought hits you that makes you freeze.

How does he know your size and - more importantly - how the fuck does he know where you live?

tagged: @evnscvll​ @donutloverxo​ @stargazingfangirl18​ @literaturefeen​ @smutdiariess​ @90sinspiredgirl​ @cruelsummer-s​ @honnneyybee 

[drariellevalentine]

A prompt where mc is unconscious in Ethan's arms.

Oof. This one really broke my heart.

This Is Me Trying

Pairing:- Ethan Ramsey x Arielle Valentine

Warnings:- angst. Major heart wrenching angst.

Takes place during the events of OHSY’s Chapter 5.

Song inspiration:- Folklore by Taylor Swift (I was listening to it on repeat the whole time)

Arielle’s PoV:-

Just when you’re about to take a break, you get paged by Eth- Dr. Ramsey. With a sigh, you turn around and walk towards the diagnostics office.

You step inside the diagnostics office as the glass doors open with a hiss to see Dr. Ramsey pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Yes?”

He looks up, anger and irritation clear in his face. “I thought you had at least a bit of maturity but I can see that I was wrong.” You stifle the urge to roll your eyes.

“What did I do?”, you ask trying to keep your voice as level as possible noticing that June and Baz are in the room.

As soon as he hears your words, he gets up and slams a stack of papers in front of you. You pick them up to see the name “Gwyneth Monroe” on the top. You wince slightly.

“I thought I had specifically told you that the diagnostics team does not seek patients and that they come to us! I come in and receive the news that Gwyneth Monroe had been approached by a ‘Dr. Valentine’. The same person I said no to as for reaching out.”

“Well excuse me for trying to keep this team afloat! I was only doing what’s best for the team! And besides, by doing this we’ll still be able to treat patients who can’t afford treatment!”

“That’s what you think! The board is thrilled about this and Naveen has told me that the board wants us to ‘move our focus towards high-profile patients’.” His eyes are filled with fury.

“Well I’m sorry but you can’t expect me to just stand there doing absolutely nothing while this team sinks to the bottom.”, you shrug.

“Guys, you should calm down for a moment. The patient’s probably waiting for us and we don’t want to keep them waiting.”, Baz says tentatively.

“Oh yes, from now on just like Dr. Valentine wanted we need to provide all our special patients with VIP treatment!” Your anger flares as he pokes accusations at you.

“I never said that! I’m sorry but the only way that we can still keep running this team just like Naveen wanted is by changing and adjusting a little!”

“And what do you know about Naveen’s vision? Just because you are his goddaughter doesn’t give you more authority then the rest of us, nor does it to make decisions without my approval.” Your mouth drops open as you gape at him. Baz’s eyes widen as June speaks up. “Ethan, that’s extremely low.” Ethan scoffs.

“Seriously?! I thought you knew how hard I worked for this position! Turns out you think that I got into this fellowship because of Naveen and not because of my own damn effort.”

“Stop twisting my words, Arielle.”, he says giving you a death stare.

“I never twisted your damn words.”, you clap back.

“Well, maybe you’re still not ready for a position like this. Seeming that you can’t follow a simple set of instructions.”

“How many times do I have to say it?! I was doing what we needed to do in order to keep our team afloat!!”

“And I told you not to do something which is exactly what you’ve done! I thought you had learned your lesson from last year, but clearly I’ve misjudged you.”

“Don’t you dare bring last year’s events into this! That has nothing to do with this!”, you shout.

“It has the utmost important and impact. Clearly representing your lack of being able to follow a set of instructions!”

“I can’t believe you!”

“We’ll get used to it then. If you pull one more stunt like this, I won’t hesitate to terminate your fellowship.” That sentence triggers something inside of you, a last straw.

“Well in that case, consider my whole damn job ’terminated’!” You slam your ID badge on his desk and rush out of that office as fast as your heels can take you, ignoring Baz and June’s shouts.

Ethan’s PoV:-

You slump back into your chair, and pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Ethan, I know you’re our boss and all that but what in the world did you do that for?! That poor girl just quit her job!” You turn to Baz.

“And she won’t be the only one if this conversation continues.”, you say. They both exit the room.

“Lord, one day she’ll be the death of me!” You decide to go to the ER to help with any patients. After attending to a few casualties, you go back to your office when you see Harper standing at the entrance, arms crossed. You raise your eyebrows.

“Was that Dr. Valentine I saw rushing out of here?”

“Yes.”

“What the hell were you thinking, Ethan?! You can’t just shout at her like that.”

“Well, I can if I need to.”

“Well maybe when she deserves it. You damn very well know that what she did didn’t make you angry. You’re angry that what she says is right, and worried that Naveen’s vision will be compromised.”

You sigh. “...maybe I was a bit too hard on her.”

“A bit?”, she looks at you incredulously.

“Fine! I was hard on her, so what?! It’s not like she’s actually going to resign her job, it was a hot-headed decision.”

“Oh really? Then what’s this?” She waves a minute stack of papers. You take it from her and read it. It’s a resignation letter, signed. Your eyes widen in disbelief.

“She came to me, with a resignation letter and said that she wanted me to sign these papers. She’s very clear-headed and informed me that it isn’t a rash decision, but one that she’s been mulling over for sometime. She’s gotten an offer to transfer her residency back to New York, offering her a part in researching preeclampsia treatments.”

“She wouldn’t…”, your mind says.

“Naveen’s signed them too.”

“What?!” You scan the papers and notice your mentor’s signature at the bottom. “Damn it… I should go talk to her.”

“You should, And do it now. She’s leaving in a few hours to New York. The young doctor’s got quite a few connections.”

“Just tell me where she is!”

She shrugs. “She’s handing over all her patients to other residents so she could be anywhere. Dr. Hirata, Dr. Delarosa and both Dr. Mirani’s have tried talking her out of it but she wouldn’t budge. So did her friends and Dr. Lahela. Naveen tried his best but couldn’t either.”

“Well why didn’t you?!”, you ask.

“You really thought I didn’t? She’s quite the woman, didn’t waver a second. And you know how intimidating I can be.”

“Well, of course she is.”, your mind reminds you as you rush out of the office.

Arielle’s PoV:-

You’re walking through the halls of Edenbrook, handing out your charts to everyone just like you did when you were suspended. Except this time, it’ll be the last. You try to ignore your friends’ voices as you hand out the last of your charts. You quickly change into a white cropped top and a pair of jeans and gather all your things from the locker, slowly loading everything into your locker. You would have asked your friends, but you don’t have the heart to face them.

You quickly check everything off, ignoring the multiple pages you receive from your friends and him. You turn off your pager and take off your white coat, Edenbrook’s logo etched on it and hand it over to Zaid.

“I thought I’d never say this but, I’m going to miss you Valentine.”

“You know what Zaid? Me too, after all who else is going to annoy me in the mornings!”

“God, I’m going to miss you so much!”, Ines wraps you up in a hug. “Have you told your friends anything?”

You shake your head. “I can’t right now. I might fly back and visit in a week or two Probably with lots of presents cause they’ll all hate me.”

She gives you a knowing look. “You know that he didn’t really mean it.”

“I know. But I can’t go on like this.” She nods. You wave one last time before you head out back to your car. You put on your sunglasses as you unlock your car. You’re about to start the engine when you realise your backpack’s still in the office.

“Crap!” You know you’ll have to get it yourself. You head back in, and take the back way to the elevator. Luckily, it’s empty. You get in and press the button for the 9th floor. The elevator slowly descends up, 3rd…...4th…...5th..”-

The elevator dings, it’s doors opening to reveal…

“Dr. Valentine.” You can see the relief in his eyes, his chest lightly heaving.

“He’s been looking for you.” The realisation dawns on you as he enters the elevator.

Suddenly, the elevator jerks slightly. You lightly stumble as there’s no bar to hold for support. You spot the bar near him and decide to stay as far as possible.

Suddenly he presses the emergency button, the elevator stops in its tracks.

“What did you do that for?!” He ignores you. You ask again.

“One argument. One argument and you quit.”

“It wasn’t one argument! You literally blamed everything on me when I was trying to help!”

“So you sign these?!” He waves your resignation papers in front of you.

“You can’t expect me to keep doing this!”

“Doing what?! I never asked you to do anything!” You take a deep breath.

“I can’t do this anymore. Seeing you every day, us acting like nothing more than colleagues, maybe friends. Acting like absolutely nothing happened between us, it hurts, Ethan. It hurts every day, every hour every minute of my damn life!.”, you blurt out. His eyes soften as he hears your words.

“Arielle, I know and I’ve told”-

“Screw my job, screw your damn ethics and morals, screw everything damn it! I’m head over heels in love with you, Ethan Jonah Ramsey, and you can’t expect me to keep quiet!” His eyes widen as he realise the extent of your words. Tears start to roll down your cheeks.

“Do you know how hard it was for me, when you left? I found out from one of the nurses, for God’s sake!”

“I couldn’t bring myself to tell you”-

“And when you came back, after two whole months you address us as something that was in the past, something that already was finished. Was it all that meant to you?”

“I- you know that’s not true”-

“I just can’t do it anymore, Ethan. I don’t know what you’ve heard but I’m leaving Boston in a few hours. I only came back for my bag, nothing else.”

“Wait, we can”-

“I can’t, Ethan, I can’t. I feel like I’m a rope in a game of tug-of-war. You acting hot then cold.You being there right beside me, but not being able to kiss you...I can’t stand it.” You can see his eyes slowly tearing up.

Not being able to look at him, you turn around and press the emergency button, the elevator descends up again. He slams the button again, the elevator stops in its tracks. “Well you can’t expect me to let you leave just like that!”

“I don’t. Which is why I’ve told everyone I’m going to New York.”, you respond as you punch the button again, the lift slowly going up.

“I don’t care where you go, Arielle Cerise Valentine. I will find you, even if it means travelling to the ends of the damn earth.”, he responds as he presses the button again, the lift halts to a stop. His sentence tugs right at your heartstrings, breaking your heart even more.

“Ethan, please don’t. I’m begging you, it hurts. Let me go, you have to let me go.”

“I can’t. How could I?”

“...then I’ll do it for you.” You press the button for the last time, the elevator finally arriving at the ninth floor. You slowly take a step towards the office.

Ethan pulls you back to his arms, his lips meeting yours in a heady kiss. You don’t have the strength to pull away, but you know you have to. You break the kiss as the elevator door starts to open.

“I’m sorry…”

Ethan’s PoV:-

You don’t know what to do, your heart beating irrationally. “Arielle, wait!” She doesn’t look back. In a last attempt, you press the button to close the doors. They close as you sigh in relief. She looks at you, this time really looks at you. Her beautiful violet irises meeting yours. You press the emergency button one last time, never taking your eyes off of her.

“You can’t leave me, I know I’m being selfish but please don’t.” She takes one last look at you, then turns away.

In crushing defeat, you take your hand off the button, the doors start to open as she slowly walks to them. You try to memorise every inch of her, who knows when he’ll see her again. She’s about to step out when suddenly the elevator jerks quite violently.

She’s thrown back into the right wall as your shoulder forcefully collides with another wall. You’re about to help her when a second later, the elevator drops. You hold on to the metal bar for dear life as the elevator rapidly descends down several feet.

Remembering you’re not alone in the midst of the chaos as you hear screams, you see Arielle’s petite body hit the top of the elevator and drop down with a terrifying thud. You watch in horror, cursing as you’re not able to do anything.

“No!!!”

The elevator finally stops after what seems like an eternity. We rush towards Arielle, trying not to focus on the bright blood stains on her white top and hair.

“Arielle? Arielle?! Can you hear me?! Please, wake up damn it!”

Her eyelashes lightly flutter. You quickly take her in your arms.

“Mmm… i-it hu-hurts E-Ethan.” Your eyes well up once again as she struggles to speak, pain completely unbearable, for you mentally and for her physically.

“Shhhh….I know. Can you tell me where it hurts?” She tries to speak but winces in pain.

“Okay, I’m going to examine you slowly and I want you to blink once if it hurts.” She nods very slowly. Suddenly, you hear a tune. You realise it’s your phone.

“Just one second, Rookie. It’s probably Naveen or Harper.” You slowly prop her up against the wall and answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Oh thank god, Ethan! We were so worried. How many people are inside? Is anyone hurt?”, Harper asks.

“No, it was just me and Ari”- You’re interrupted by a soft thud. You whip around to see Arielle lying unconscious on the floor. You drop to your knees.

“Rookie!”

“Ethan?! What happened?!” You can hear Harper yelling but you ignore it, all your attention on her.

“Rookie! Arielle, wake up!!”

This time her eyes stayed shut.

************************************************

Author’s Note:- Okay, first of all I commend you if there isn’t even a single tear rolling across your face. I know I cried while writing this which is why if you see any mistakes, ignore them cause this wasn’t even edited once. But on a bit of a more of a happier note, I’m writing/brainstorming a part 2 to this so...

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Ethan x MC taglist:- @tsrookie | @starrystarrytrouble | @mysticaurathings | @caseyvalentineramsey | @alina-yol-ramsey | @openheartthot | @gryffindordaughterofathena | @binny1985 @ramseysno1rookie

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

[zet-sway]

@the-wip-project day 35:

I don't know what today's question is but I gotta write a wall of text about what happened last night because holy shit

I was on the verge of falling asleep and, like I usually do, I decided to hunt for some spicy fanfics to read on my phone. I found one.

All my posts are long but this one is real fucking long. CW for touching on dub-con and injury mentioned in the type of context it probably shouldn't be.

It's time for me to admit that not only am I a oneshot writer, I'm also a oneshot reader. I am drawn to short fanfics. If I click on a chaptered fic, it's (usually) because it's rated E for smut and I'll go in with every intention of skimming it for the spicy bits. I'm not proud of this. I've avoided saying this for years because I don't want to disappoint people who work hard on their very long and well thought out chaptered stories. I have a short attention span, and I know what I want.

But anyway, last night I clicked on a fic with 5 chapters and some amount of words, around 30k? Long, by my standards, but I was tired and I just wanted something to read while I dozed off.

This particular fic hooked me in, though. I still skimmed it, but the writing was so unique in a way that made me writhe with writer's envy and admiration. Whoever wrote this had their own language - nothing borrowed - their own vision.

I guess I should tell the good people who read my posts (ya'll, seriously, thank you) that the fic in topic is called Fault Lines by Recidiva on AO3. I would link to it but uhhhh I may be using my work PC for "extracurricular purposes" right this moment ^^; so maybe when I get home I'll remember to add it.

I skimmed it - like I said above - for the spicy parts. It generally follows the plot of Bioware's canon. Thane begins as possessive and manipulative, likely uncomfortably close to dub-con for a lot of people. He kisses her and knows full well that his kiss will make her willing but intoxicated, and how he will use that to fulfil himself. But as the story progresses, he falls in love. Their relationship is what I'll call "edgy." Both of them are renegades. There's a scene where they get down in the shuttle after a fight and they're both still injured and it borders on downright unrealistic but fuck it, it's fanfic and I bought it. However their relationship develops a certain heart-wrenching tenderness. She asks him what Siha means over and over again, and eventually tells him she thinks "bitch" when he says it. But in that moment they have a playful banter, he knows full well she's probably already looked it up on the extranet, and they fall into bed together. The smut is mind-boggling.

By the time it gets to Shepard's arrest, he's taken up a place on Earth and visits her, breaks into her house arrest. There's a scene where they see each other for the first time in a while, she tells him how much she's missed his mouth and how it's not right how bad she wants him, and wants him bad enough to smother him with affection. She says something to the effect of "if you're looking to die, I'd volunteer to be the cause," implying that her lust is powerful enough to endanger his life. And it was at this moment I realized I fucked up.

It's established that I live in my own headcanon and I'm not burdened with considering the end of Thane's life as part of my fics. And the suspension of disbelief was such that I forgot he doesn't make it. So at this moment in the fic, chapter 4 out of 5, I realized "Oh shit this isn't going to have a happy ending." I skipped to the end right away, I wanted to confirm my fears.

In their final exchange, she asks him to lie to her - something that's repeated in other chapters of the story. I forget what he says, I was reading desperately, but he asks her in return to tell him something true. She kisses him and tells him she loves him, and he breathes his last breath with the lingering tingle of their kiss to carry him to the other side.

I was so entrenched in the depth of their relationship up to that point. The level of fathomless love the author conveyed, unlike anything I've ever managed to write before, but more realistic to my own understanding of love as I've experienced it. Not because they're renegades, but just the selflessness with which they feel, communicate, banter, and make love.

When I read that last paragraph, something inside me broke. That sounds dramatic but that's honestly how I would describe it. It felt like waking up from a night terror, when you bolt up in bed from a dream so bad you immediately get up even if it's 4am because nothing feels real and you're so terrified you have to get up and do something - literally anything to take your mind off it, to ease you back into reality. I put my phone down and stared into the darkness of my bedroom and told myself "it's just a fanfic, no need to get upset." And then I started to cry and I didn't stop for 30 minutes.

My husband was downstairs watching Bohemian Rhapsody and I went down there and wrapped myself around him so tight and cried. Bless this man, from the bottom of my heart - bless him - for his unfathomable kindness. I felt like a fucking fool because I was crying over fanfiction but he paused his movie and just listened while I tried to articulate how it wasn't exactly about the character death, or the characters at all, it was just the writing and how it wormed into my brain so convincingly. I felt the loss like it was my own loss. I am terrified of losing my husband. So many feelings coalesced and I realized one day I may be in that situation, kissing the man I love goodbye for the last time, never to hold him again. I'm at work right now and I'm tearing up because it's so hard.

I tip my hat to the author, but I genuinely wished I hadn't read that fanfic. And isn't it kind of funny after that grandstand I took yesterday about not wanting to write the pain of loss and grief, that I ended up reading it instead and probably fucking myself up just as badly, if not worse, than if I had tried to write it myself?

It gets worse, too. Because it got me thinking about my own writing, and how I could never hope to achieve what that author did. So I sat there crying out my painfeelings while simultaneously feeling like a shit writer and like nothing I put out matters. I got up from the couch, sat down at my PC and picked up where I left off in the Omega DLC in ME3 because video games are great for taking the mind off things. It didn't exactly help with the intensity I'd hoped for, but I managed to fall asleep, by 3am.

Fast forward to this morning. I dragged my sorry ass out of bed 4 hours later and drove to work. By some fucking miracle, no one is here right now except our field director. And I'm stewing in how this one fic really fucked me up bad, reconsidering everything. I feel like I've been put in my place.

So what changed?

Yesterday I posted about how I'm struggling to write a plotline. I know what happens, but I'm not interested in the little bits that tie it together. I want to write the romance. I think there's a way to write the plot and the romance at the same time, but it's damn hard.

I started doing this because I wanted to grow my skills as a writer, and I knew it might be more than I could chew. I'm at that moment now where I'm about ready to give up.

Even if I felt like a shit writer last night (and still kinda do this morning), I know that the stuff I've put out has value. We can't all write these epically tragic smut-romance-renegades-to-lovers tales, we'd all be sad all the damn time. There's a time and a place and - I would argue - even a need for lighterhearted fic out there. There are really no rules. I'm confident in what I know how to do.

But the plot. Fuck it, man. I think maybe I'm trying too hard to be something I'm not. I'm trying really hard to write like other people. I may have mentioned before that I saw a post about how many artists spend their time pining for the skills of others, thinking "wow, when I can draw like that, I'll have made it as an artist." That same post cautioned against this, basically saying you already have your own unique style, it's just harder to see through the lens of your own eyeballs. It's fine to challenge yourself but try to acknowledge what you do that sets you apart already. I feel like I have that something - maybe not to the extent that I wish, but I have something.

So what's the point of the plot? Why do I need to tell my readers how I cured Keprals? I'm asking myself important questions here. I like to think I've come up with ideas that no one else has, but as I said above, I don't read a lot of chaptered fics. I very well may have come to the same ideas as other writers and I'm not even aware of it. I don't know if my ideas are unique but I still arrived at them all by myself.

The challenge here - the thing I'm struggling so much with - is how to put them together with the same elegance of my fellow writers. I'm looking at you, shrios fam (yeah I'm calling you that, yall know who you are). I know I can write words, but it's like I have a bunch of pieces from completely different jigsaw puzzles and I'm struggling to make a new picture out of them. I struggle with the transitions between them.

The point here is I have to find my own way. And I have to stop taking myself so seriously. In fact this level of "seriousness" is one of the things that got me into so much angst over World of Warcraft over the last two years. At least I know how to recognize it.

I have to find my own way. I have my own things that are worth sharing. The author I read last night had a language all their own, and I have a language all my own too. Their wordplay was actually more choppy than I would ever write. I've talked before about how I'm scared of starting too many sentences with pronouns, how I maybe write too many run-on sentences, whatever. This author did that with reckless abandon. It worked for them. So if they can make that shit work, I can make my own shit work.

I have to find my own way.

My most current WIP is Thane and Shepard's first time. I've been working on it pretty nonchalantly because I hadn't intended to publish it until I built up to it. It takes place further into my timeline, and it would probably ruin the point of a slow burn if I put it out there now. There are some really memorably moments in this WIP, and there are other moments that need to be smoothed over as well. I never knew what I'd really imagined for their first time but I think I've mostly developed something that's unique in its own right, and I think will be fun for people to read.

I'm just so fucking torn over what to do with it. I feel guilty for working on it. I should be writing "other shit" leading up to it but I don't fucking want to. I actually wrote probably 2-3k words this weekend, which is a pretty staggering amount by my standards. Some of it was for this smutty WIP and some was for something I just threw together, Thane observing Shepard on Horizon and the emotional toll it takes on her. He's seeing her humanity. I don't know if it's worth it to continue but I wrote a lot of it and the words are more precise than usual for a draft, I don't know. I have so much fucking insecurity. Fuck dude. I want to write this longfic, but I don't want to write it. I want to skim to the spicy bits like I always do.

I am wracked with insecurity, of my own making. I know what I can do but I feel compelled to see this idea through. Somehow I have to find my own way.

TLDR I feel like if I don't publish something soon I'm going to burst and I don't even know what the fuck to work on first and fjslfjsojoiejrj

I would be really down for, like, a bunch of hugs and a bowl of ice cream shared over memes and fanservice.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

A new kind of competition RA on the Masked singer pt. 1

*Author’s note*

Hey guys well like I said on my last post, this is the 1st part of my Masked Singer chapter. And let me just tell you after literally MONTHS of trying to figure out a playlist for this chapter I FINALLY came to a good playlist that I could see the Rock Angel doing if she were to compete in the Masked Singer. So follow along and listen to the songs I’ve listed if you really wanna get into the mood of it and I hope you all enjoy this fun little chapter and until next time :)

Taglist:

@bohemiansweede

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@simonedk

@queensdivas

@queen-paladin

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queendeakyy

@5sos-wdw

@wormzteef

@geek-and-proud

@starswin

@labessieisallama

@isabella-bby

@naturalswifty89

@ssa-sadboi

@onebigfangirlworld

_________________________________________________________

*February 2021*

This was a whole new game changer for me, but I’m happy I signed up for it.  While visiting my son Georgie (through a very brief period when the pandemic was at a standstill, before the States closed down again), I had been asked by the Producers of NBC’s “The Masked Singer” if I’d be willing to participate in the show.

Having seen the show through Youtube videos and even seeing the UK’s version of it back home during our lockdown, I immediately hopped on board and said I would do it.  But of course being as secretive as this show was, they forbad me from telling anyone or announcing it on Social media, if I even breathed a word of my appearance on the show to anyone, they’d revoke it and kick me out of the show.

The character that they had chosen for me was the Lioness and boy was she a gorgeous creature.  Much like how they had the Lion all the way back in Season one, she was pure gold however she wasn’t covered with armor like the Lion was. I had asked for some flexibility to the outfit cause I wanted to give the audience a side of me that they’ve never seen before.  I wanted to be able to move much like Bow-Wow did on the last season of the Masked Singer as the Frog.

They took some of my ideas into consideration on allowing the outfit to have that flexibility for me to dance my heart out. I wore platform high-heeled boots much like I always did back when I first started off as the Rock Angel.

I also wanted to honor Freddie in a way with my outfit.  I had asked for the gloves if it could be possible if we could add some diamond claws. I showed them (whatever pictures I could find of the 1974 Rainbow concert. Thank you all for the lovely gifs) just so they could get the idea and when the costume dept. saw it, they fell in love with the idea.  They even agreed to shape the diamonds as real lioness claws.

Once the costume was fully complete and I got to put it on for the first time, it felt like I had actually become The Lioness. Of course it came with a price too, I wasn’t allowed to talk to anyone, even when I just had to go around with the mask, I was given the famed DON’T TALK TO ME black hoodie so that no one was able to hear my real voice.

I was also forbidden from talking to the other contestants as well as hear them rehearse until we would begin filming the episodes.  I was placed into GROUP B along with creatures such as the Piglet, Black Swan, the Chameleon, and Grandpa Monster.  I was also told that there would be some major game changers this season but no one, not even the judges knew just what those changes were, only the Host.

Weeks and weeks of rehearsals and performing each of my songs that I had picked out and wanted to do, never did I think I’d get as far as I did.  But I could care less about the trophy, I just enjoy singing and this was a whole new game changer cause now my fans get to see a whole new side of me that they never do get to see on stage with me.

Sure I’ve had courage to go up on stage constantly, overcome every obstacle known to man, hell even stay a sane person after having a rough childhood, but the Lioness has given me courage to do things that I’ve never done before on stage, whether performing with my boys, by myself, or with other singers that I’ve performed/toured with.  Back then or present day.

And I hope you all can guess correct just who is beneath the Lioness mask. Enjoy my dears.

*GROUP B PREMIERE EPISODE*

“Alright! Alright! Alright!” the current host of MS5 Niecy Nash said after the last contestant Black Swan performed her opening song.  “Now this next contestant is gonna prove that she belongs on this stage. Give it up….for the Queen herself! The Lioness!”

The crowd cheered and I walked out with the Men in Black strutting down with pride in each step.  I greeted the audience with the royal wave before standing next to Niecy.  Even though I could vaguely see out of this mask, I still had some sense of the stage.

“Oooo girl you are stunning to look at look at this ya’ll ain’t see a Queen or what?!”

“She looks amazing!” I heard Jenny exclaim.

“Yeah I’m jealous look at those claws of hers. I wish I had those.” Nicole stated.  I gave them a sexy clawing motion with my hands as they all hooted and hollered.

“I agree with you Nicole. Now let’s find out some clues on just who this Queen Lioness is.” Through the TV, I knew my first clue package would be playing.  Here’s out it went down.

You would see a 3 layered rock platform, on smaller rock, one slightly taller in the middle and finally a large boulder that stood tall like a throne with me sitting on top of it.

“Welcome to my Pride. Being the top lioness isn’t always easy but it’s all worth it in the end. Something that I believe the world could benefit from.” The screen would change to me walking along a virtual plain with various animals.  “Growing up, we weren’t allowed to really show our true colors as much as we can now. If you were even slightly different from the rest of the world, you were condemned.” A zebra with the LGBTQ patterns for its stripes came up.

“An LGBTQ flag. Could be a member of it.” Pointed out Robin Thicke.

“But it still hurts me to see that even as society begins to change, there are those that still cling to the old ways of life.”

“Maybe a politician. This is a lot of politics going on here.” Nicole stated.  The screen changed to me holding the world in the palm of my hands.  I crushed the world down.

“I just hope that one day the world will come to understand that we are all One people, one world.” I opened my hands up and soon a rainbow appeared before ending my 1st clue package.

The stage was dark except for one spotlight shining down on me.  Well more like half of me, half of my body remained in the shadows while the other half was sparkling under the spotlight as I spoke with my American accent, the voice modulator turning off for my performance.

“We are a nation with multi-graphic boundaries. Bound together through our beliefs. We are like-minded individuals, sharing a common vision. Pushing toward a world rid of color loins.” Already I could see that people were trying to figure out who I was by hearing my real voice, but due to me American accent and natural British accent being two completely different voices, it was throwing people for a loop.

I then did Janet’s famed countdown with my right hand before the song came on full force and I and my backup dancers began to dance the Rhythm Nation dance.  ALL in perfect unison.

The crowd went insane and I could even see the judges standing up in shock as well as cheering.  I strutted towards the mic stand at the corner of the stage and began to sing.  My natural alto range came forth and I could see the audience singing along and even do some of the dance moves to the song, especially once the chorus hit.

I strutted across the stage before I would rejoin and lead the pride that was my dancers in the famed dance, before strutting forward on the stage, coaxing the audience to cry the chorus out loudly.

*Me*

With music by our side To break the color lines Let's work together To improve our way of life Join voices in protest To social injustice A generation full of courage Come forth with me

People of the world today Are we looking for a better way of life We are a part of the rhythm nation People of the world unite Strength in numbers we can get it right One time (Sing it up!) We are a part of the rhythm nation

My backup dancers and I then did probably the most difficult dance break that Janet had set for all dancers to perform in perfect unison.

“She’s has got this dance DOWN!!” exclaimed Nicole.

“This has to be a natural singer!” Jenny told Robin who agreed.

“No question!”

*Me*

Rhythm Nation baby!

Sing it for the children Sing it for the people

Rhythm Nation baby

Sing it for the man!

We are a part of a Rhythm Nation!

My dancers and I saluted and the crowd went absolutely berserk from my first number.

“Yaas Queen!” I heard Niecy exclaim as she came up to me.  “Lioness all up here slaying it!” I gave a graceful bow (as low as I could go without the mask falling off) and she said. “Judges what did you all think of our lovely Lioness’s performance.”

“Niecy you don’t need to say anything else cause you summed it up! I think we are in the presence of a true performer here.” Nicole first started off.

“Agreed. Never did we see someone actually have the guts to pull off—probably one of the hardest choreography dances ever!” Jenny agreed.

“Alright judges now you know the drill. It’s time to put your first impression guesses into the tour bus.” I could see some of them complaining as they wrote down their guesses on who I was as the little tour bus came through to collect their First Impression guesses.  “Now then, do any of you have any clues on just who this Queen of the Beasts could be, let’s start with you Mr. Robin.”

“Wha Me? Oh man….” The rest of the panel laughed at his misery while I mimed a laugh by putting my hand to my opened mouth mask. “I mean—this could literally be anyone but based off the clue package she spoke a lot about the world and people around it. So this definitely isn’t someone who is recently famous. She’s been around for a while.”

“Whatcha trying to say Robin that she’s old?” Niecy defended me as I got into a fighting position.

“Oh Robin you’re about to get mauled by the Lioness!” Ken teased him.

“No, no, no, no! Not insinuating anything!”

“Cause you know you never insult a woman’s age there Robin Thicke!” Niecy exclaimed.

“Tell him mommy!” Ken cheered.

“Sit down Kenneth!”

“Yes ma’am.” He said as he sat down on his chair.

“Where I was going with this is that maybe she came from an era where it wasn’t okay to bring about your sexuality or gender.”

“True, true.” Nicole agreed with him.

“And seeing the LGBTQ pattern on the zebra, I’m thinking this might be Shea Diamond.”

“Okay, okay not a bad guess.”

“I’m afraid I’m gonna have to disagree with you there Robin. I’ve listened to Shea Diamond sing and that’s not her.” Ken said.

“Then who do you think it is Ken?” asked Nicole.

“Okay I know exactly who this is.” Oh god here we go. “Okay from the clue package alone there was obviously the LGBTQ brand with the Zebra. Maybe she’s an advocate for the LGBTQ community. I’m going with Lady Gaga!”

Okay not a bad guess but it’s not her.  I could see some of the audience pondering Ken Jong’s rare, good guesses.

“Well Lioness whoever you are, you are a star.” Jenny stated as she pointed at me.  I blew her a kiss and Niecy said.

“Now Lioness before we go, I have to ask you. How long did it take you to do that dance?” I put the mic up to the thinnest part of my mask and answered with my voice modulator now on, making me sound like a warm, motherly Chipette.

“It took months actually, but I’m a fast learner when it comes to dancing.” I hinted that little clue and only my super fans would realize that I love to dance, especially when it was with my Brother Mine back in the day.

“Okay. Well give it up one more time for the Lioness!” the crowd applauded and I waved goodbye before walking off the stage.

After all the performances of Group B went, we all lined up and found out just who among us was going home for the first round in our group.  It was suspenseful but the votes were in and Grandpa Monster was the one to be eliminated from the first round.

I was safe for now.  I just hope I can keep going on and maybe go all the way.

*ROUND 2*

It was now Round 2 and I was going to perform after the Chameleon.  I heard him do the song “21 Questions” by 50 Cent ft. Nate Dogg.  I’ll admit he was an impressive performance, especially with how he can rap so my best guess is that he could be a rapper.  Unfortunately, I’m not quite educated in my rappers (plus one rapper in particular still gives me a bad vibe after what he did) so I wouldn’t know who to begin guessing if I were an audience member.

After going to a commercial break it was now time for me to perform my second song choice that both me and the Producers thought would be a good fit for me.

“This Queen last time she crushed it with Janet’s Rhythm Nations, and now she’s back to hopefully crush it once more. Let’s dig up some more clues on the Lioness.”

The next clue package stood as followed:

“I’ll admit, 1st round I was terrified. Never have I done something like this before. But once I got up on stage, I overcame that fear and just sang. In fact, it was music that helped me overcome my shyness.” I told the camera.

I opened up a closet and inside it was my Red Special guitar, a pair of drum sticks and a Fender Bass guitar (the one that Deacy always played with).

“Growing up I had very low self-esteem. I was shy, insecure, and thought I’d never amount to anything.”

“Aww that’s so sad.” Nicole awed.  “Don’t worry I’ve been there too honey.”

“But when I found music, it changed my life. I would become a whole different person everytime I played an instrument. Or just sang to myself.” I picked up the Bass guitar and strummed it. “I especially loved the Rock and Roll artists growing up. Just seeing them perform live, gave me the confidence I needed to one day reach a dream of becoming a Rockstar myself. And low and behold it came true.”

I was now performing on stage with the Men in Black surrounding me pretending to be crazy fans holding up signs with hearts and I love you Lioness.

“So I’m here to say that if you feel like you’re alone out there in the world, or feel like it’s against you. Just listen and jam out to some of your fav tunes. Because in them, Life creates a new path for you.” I did a wind-mill and my mask gave a gleam at the right eye, symbolizing a wink.

The lights were dark and I took a deep breath in before exhaling out.  Soon the guitar strum of “Eye of the Tiger” came on before I threw my fist in the air with each punch the guitar gave, while fire spurted from the stage.

The crowd cheered as Survivor’s most popular song came through the speakers and I went up to the mic stand and sung my heart out. I changed a word or two just to make it fit more towards me but it didn’t take away the effect my song had on the audience.

The backup band was jamming out to the song with one lioness on the guitar and a male lion at the drums and another male one on the bass.  I belted out the last note

*Me*

Rising up, back on the street Did my time, took my chances Went the distance, now I'm back on my feet Just a girl and her will to survive

So many times it happens too fast You trade your passion for glory Don't lose your grip on the dreams of the past You must fight just to keep them alive

It's the eye of the tiger It's the thrill of the fight Rising up to the challenge of our rival And the last known survivor Stalks her prey in the night And she's watching us all with the eye

Of the Tiger

The eye of the tiger The eye of the tiger The eye of the Lioness

At the very last explosion of fireworks and fire, I punched my hand in the air and the crowd cheered.

“YASSS LIONESS!!!” I could hear Nicole cheering from the panel booth as she pointed at me.  Ken Jong, Jenny and Robin all bowed before my performance as Niecy came back up and she said.

“And the Queen slays us AGAIN!!” I bowed before her and took her hand and pressed it to my open mouth giving her a ‘kiss’. “Oh and I’m getting a royal kiss from the Queen herself!”

“Lucky mommy!” Ken proclaimed.

“Sit your butt down son! Panel, what did you think of that song?”

“Lioness, you took us to a real rock concert. I mean the fire, the electric guitar. And I think I even saw you doing a little air guitar in there somewhere!” Jenny said.  I shrugged guiltily.  Yeah I did do a little air guitar, come on I know you all do it too! “But that was a killer performance!” I bowed my head in gratitude.

“What made you choose that song in particular?” Niecy asked me.

“It’s always a good rock anthem. You can just let yourself loose and not have a care in the world. And it really got me through my 1st year of being who I am today.” That got the panelists attention.

“Alright so we went through your personal journal and found out just who exactly your childhood crush was. Men in Black! Bring out the 1st crush clue!” Niecy announced as two of the men in Black came out with a large flat platform with a sheet over it.  “I’m excited to see just who it is you had a crush on. Now let’s see who it is…..”

Niecy took off the sheet and it revealed the late great Prince.

“It’s Prince!” exclaimed Nicole.

“Okay! Okay I see you Lioness! Little chocolate love there.” I laughed and said into my microphone.

“First thing I always notice about a man are his eyes. And growing up, Prince stole my heart with those eyes.”

“You sure it wasn’t also his dance moves?” Niecy asked me with a ‘for real’ look.

“Mm that too.” Everyone laughed before Niecy asked the judges.

“Okay so any guesses panel on just who this could be? Let’s start with you Jenny.”

“Oh my god why!?” we all laughed. “Okay going off by the tonality of your voice. You are truly a Rock star under there, there’s no way you could be a Pop artists or rapper under there. And my guess in Pink.”

A very good guess. In fact when Pink came on the music scene, everyone thought she was trying to copy my voice but she’s a total talented artist on her own. That’s all her voice, and I’m proud to have not only mentored her, but become her very dearest friend and confidant.

“Yeah it does kinda sound like Pink. But the clues didn’t really point out to her.” Nicole said.

“What you thinking Scherzinger?” Niecy asked.

“Okay so we saw LGBTQ last time but I also took notice of the instruments that were in this week’s clue package.  The red guitar specifically.” Oh shit she’s got it. “And I remember seeing this performer on my 12th birthday. I’m going with the Rock Angel (Y/n) Kline.”

“Ooo okay. Not a bad guess Nicole.”

“Yeah it could be the Rock Angel but it’s not!” Ken bluntly said.

“Oh god here we go again.” Jenny said as she flopped against her chair.

“In the clue package we did see the guitars and the drumsticks. And Sticks rhymes with what? Nicks. Stevie Nicks welcome to the Masked Singer!” Oh god Ken.

No way could I ever be compare to Stevie Nicks! She’s way above me and no way could I ever be better than her or do her vocal ranges like she can do.

“Ken I swear I’m about to hit you in the head with this pen.” Nicole said.

“Alright, alright, alright calm down up there. Look no matter who is under here, let’s agree that the Lioness gave yet another rockin performance. Give it up for the Lioness everybody!” I walked backstage.

“The panel has given some good guesses. But there’s gonna be surprised to see just who I am. And—”

On your screens it would’ve staticed up and there on screen is the infamous Rooster with clues, Cluedle-Doo.  The rooster that’s been helping the viewers at home guess just who is under each mask, while also trying to get people to guess who he is.

“So sorry Lioness but I’m here to give the audience a little bit more than you’re letting on. Don’t let her voice fool you for she’s a Lioness that lives……across the pond.” His deep voice spoke to the camera as he walked over to his map with a pushpin pointed right at England.

“Hold on what was that? Something fishy is going on around here, and I’m gonna find out what.” I told the camera as I waved my fist.

A couple more performances later as well as the reveal of our group’s Wildcard, The Crab and it was time to reveal who was going to be unmasked.  I almost feared that I was gonna be the one to go home since Nicole had said my name and the fans would demand that I be unmasked.

But when Niecy read out that the Crab was gonna have to be unmasked I sighed with relief but I was also sad for the crab. He actually performed well tonight and I wanted to see just how far he was gonna go.  As me and the rest of the group that was safe headed back to our rooms, I kept thinking to myself just how was I gonna make it through without making my voice sound too obvious.

*ROUND 3*

 Okay. This round is sure to throw them off my scent this time.  This is a song I’d never thought I’d do but it’s the only way to keep me going to the next round and not risk getting unmasked.

“Her last two performances have been killer! Now it’s time to see what else she’s got up her paws. Release, the Lioness!” Niecy announced.

The LIONESS; THE CLUES.

I was staring into my reflection at a watering hole.

“This has been a wild ride for me. Most fun I’ve ever had in years.” The letters MSG flashed on the screen written within the mud.

“MSG? Madison Square Garden?” asked Ken.

“But I’m here to show that I truly belong here and deserve a shot to go the Distance.”

“Go the Distance. Isn’t that a song from a Disney film?” asked Robin.

“Yeah Hercules. Could she be in an adaptation of Hercules?” Jenny said.

“So for this next performance, I’m gonna do a song I’ve never done before, and hopefully that will keep me in with the pride and out of the spotlight for just a little while longer.”

I stood there with the spotlight on me, the mic stand right in front of me as Miley Cyrus’s song “Wrecking Ball” came on.  The last time this song had been used on this show was way back during Season 1 with Mrs. Gladys Knight.  And she did a phenomenal job with her rendition of the song.  However I had a little something extra up my sleeve.

I started off with a smooth, ballad like tone for the opening using my hands and arms to give forth a more deeper emotion as I sang the song.  Before I finally unleashed the fire within me.

Like Freddie always did back in the day when Queen first started off, I tore the mic stand off the rest of it and fell into the passion of the chorus using the mic-stand like a sledgehammer when I could. I could see everyone lip-syncing the chorus and even the judges were singing along to the song.

I went back to my ballad like tone as I was kneeling on the ground looking up towards the heavens before standing back up and slowly walked towards the back of the stage as the lights dimmed down to only a spotlight on me.

When the 2nd chorus came back on, I pulled out my big surprise.  When the lights came fully on, a makeshift Wrecking ball stood in the middle of the stage. In order for me to fully be on it with this costume, the Wrecking ball was built around a swing-set and was hidden within the walls of the Wrecking ball, but I could stick my feet through a curtain that would give the illusion of me actually being on a Wrecking Ball (much like Miley was).

Everyone in the audience was losing their minds, I even saw Nicole getting really into the song as she would raise and circle her arms in the air.  I kept swinging back and forth as I continued to sing until my final note.

*Me*

We clawed, we chained, our hearts in vain We jumped, never asking why We kissed, I fell under your spell A love no one could deny

Don't you ever say I just walked away I will always want you

I came in like a wrecking ball I never hit so hard in love All I wanted was to break your walls All you ever did was wreck me Yeah, you, you wreck me

I never meant to start a war I just wanted you to let me in And instead of using force I guess I should've let you win I never meant to start a war I just wanted you to let me in I guess I should've let you win

Don't you ever say I just walked away I will always want you

I came in like a wrecking ball I never hit so hard in love All I wanted was to break your walls All you ever did was wreck me

I  came in like a wrecking ball Yeah, I just closed my eyes and swung Left me crashing in a blazing fall All you ever did was wreck me Yeah, you, you wreck me

Yeah, you, you wreck me

This was probably my best performance of this entire competition.  No way was the audience gonna unmask me yet.  I got off of my makeshift Wrecking Ball and Niecy came up bowing before me.

“OH MY GOD!!!” Nicole and Jenny both exclaimed.

“The Queen remains on top!” at that point the crowd began cheering my character in a rhythm clap.

“LI-ON-ESS! LI-ON-ESS! LI-ON-ESS!!!” I coaxed them to keep chanting with my hands, going in time with their claps.

“Pardon my language but that performance definitely had balls.” Niecy said which made all of us laugh.  

“This is definitely the first time in Masked Singer history that someone was even able to do that with costumes like these.” Robin said.

“Lioness tell us how do you feel after that performance?” asked Niecy.

“Tired.” That got a good laugh out of the audience and the panel. “But it’s all worth it cause it’s either go big or go home. And I definitely do not wanna go home just yet.”

“Well we definitely don’t want you to go Superstar.” Jenny told me.  I gave her a heart shape ‘I Love you’ with my hand and pointed at her and she accepted it and sent one back to me.

“So any clues that you guys might’ve picked up on?”

“I’ll start off.” Ken said.

“Oh boy, here we go.” Robin said as Nicole laughed and I placed my hands on my hips.  This outta be good Dr. Ken.

“Okay so in this clue package we saw the acronym MSG. What’s that stand for? Madison. Square. Garden. This actress was born in Manhattan, NY. She can sing because she played a Porcupine in a film this my friends is none other than Black Widow herself, SCARLETT JOHANSSON!!”

“No! No way that’s Scarlett!” exclaimed Jenny.

“Have you seen the movie Sing? That’s totally her voice!”

“No it’s not!” Jenny argued back.

“Maybe not but Lioness might be connected to Scarlett in a way.”

“What you got cooking in that brain of yours Mr. Robin Thicke?” Niecy asked him.

“Well going through the clue package we saw the LGBTQ obviously, she is known for speaking up for the community especially since a few friends of hers are a part of that community. I’m gonna go with Nicole and say this is the Rock Angel.”

“Okay. Okay not a bad guess.”

“Just hearing the voice alone it just makes me think of her.”

“Yeah but the Rock Angel wouldn’t be able to do what Lioness did.” Jenny tried to argue.

Oh she don’t know me very well, does she? I’ve got some moves in these old bones Jenny.

“Well whoever is under that mask. This was definitely your best performance not only for you but for the show itself. I don’t think we’ll ever have a number quite like that again.” Nicole said.

“I agree girlfriend. Alright Lioness, you head on backstage and rest up. You’ve earned it honey.” I waved to the audience and left to go backstage.

“That was probably the—toughest performance of my life. With or without the costume.” I laughed.  “But I gave it my all and win or lose, I’m glad I did this show.”

After the elimination of the newest Wildcard the Bulldog.  Which wasn’t according to the votes, but by Niecy’s own will, Bulldog was revealed to be none other than Nick Cannon.  Who had returned to host the show after recovering from his COVID scare.

It was a huge surprise to see him back and actually competing in the show.  Although he wished he could’ve gone onward with the show but he was just happy to be back with the judges and to see us progress onward into the final few rounds.

After that filming, I was in my trailer resting after that performance, having the fan on full blast to try and take away my sweat, I phone rang and I saw Brian’s handsome, wrinkly face pop up on the screen.

“Hey Bri what’s up?”

‘Oh nothing much really. Just been……fiddling around with Red Special, keeping Anita company, and above all trying not to lose our minds over the lockdown.’

“I hear yah. America’s really been trying to tighten the leash on restrictions. But of course stubborn Americans, especially Trump supporters are still denying this pandemic and refusing to wear their face masks.”

‘Right up arseholes I tell yah. This isn’t some conspiracy thing. It’s real life.’

“I know Brian. But let’s change the subject before you go off on an angry rant and have another heart attack.”

‘You’re right, you’re right sorry. The reason I called was because I want you to clarify something for me.’

“Clarify what?”

‘Well. I don’t know if you’ve seen my Instagram lately. But our followers are telling me that I should ask you if you’re a part of a show called the Masked Singer?’

“The Masked Singer? Which version? Cause you know we’ve recently got one too now.”

‘They’re saying that you could be the Lioness on the American version. Is it true?’

“Bri. Come on. I’m in lockdown with my son during a pandemic, I run on the high risk factor due to my recent high blood pressure. Why would I do a show like that?”

‘They’re pretty adamant about it. So come on (n/n). Tell me the truth.’

“No Brian Harold May. I am not the Lioness. Besides even if I were, it’d be too obvious. Everyone knows I’m Roger’s lion cub. If I were to choose a creature, I’d be a griffin or White-wolf.”

‘Okay. If you say so. Stay safe out there love.’

“You too Bri. Hopefully, America can get their shit together so that I can fly back home soon. I miss you and Rog and Jack. How are they by the way?”

‘Well that husband of yours is still working hard to preserve the peace in London. Hardly any serious criminal activity, just rotter’s not wanting to wear their face masks inside local buildings. Rog is good, he’s been posting up a lot more on his Instagram lately. Been asking about you and worried sick over you.’

“Some things never change. Alright Bri well I know it’s pretty late over there, so get some sleep. You’ve probably never slept in this late in so long your body must be aching for it.”

‘Yeah I suppose your right. Have a good night love. Love you.’

“I love you too Bri. Bye.” He said goodbye and I hung up on him.  “Bloody hell that was close. Thank god he didn’t hit facetime, otherwise he would’ve been suspicious.”

*ROUND 4*

Now it was time to change things up with this weeks performance.  I’ve been giving out killer hard-rock/pop songs but now it was time to allow the audience to just solely focus on my vocals alone.  Plus this performance was in dedication to a very special someone.

“Now here to wow us once again and seeing if we can dig up more clues on her identity. Here’s the Lioness.” Nick Cannon announced.

THE CLUE PACKAGE. THE LIONESS

“Being on this show has really meant a lot to me.” The screen showed my last performance as well as my 1st performance. “But now I’m gonna take things back and really allow you guys to get to know me.”

I was in my ‘house’ writing at my desk a letter. And on the laptop it said a number code. 149121.

“Oh wow a number code. 149121.” Jenny said.

“Throughout my career I’ve met a lot of great people. But unfortunately I’ve had to say goodbye to some of them, some gone far too soon. Others for other personal reasons.”

“So she’s lost someone. Maybe a partner.”

“This one person in particular even though he’s still around physically, I had no choice but to let him go. We practically did everything together. But I understood why he did what he did, and I never pressured him to come back to the spotlight.” I touched a shadow figure of a male lion. “So this performance is for my brother. And I hope he’s living out a happy life doing whatever it is he wants to. I will always love you forever, my Brother Mine.”

It was just me up there with the spotlight down on me.  I took a deep breath in before softly exhaling.  This one’s for you Deacy.  I opened my mouth and sung my next song, “I will always love you” by Whitney Houston.

The audience was in tranced by voice alone, some of them pressing their hands to their hearts and I could swear I saw some of the judges already starting to cry.  When the bridge came up, I thought back to all the memories Deacy and I had together.

Playing the bass, me sitting the Deaklings when they were little babies, us always dancing together at the after parties (after some liquid courage).  To the big moments whenever the two of us were on stage together and we’d interact with each other.

Him doing his “Disco moves” on stage during our sets, or how during the medley’s during the “Kind of Magic tour” we’d be the ones to stand together as he played his bass and I would have my acoustic guitar or tambourine on me.  Remembering his happy smile, the way his eyes wrinkled whenever he’d smile that adorable, gapped tooth smile of his.

*Me*

If I should stay, I would only be in your way

So I'll go, but I know

I'll think of you every step of the way

And I will always love you

I will always love you

I hope life treats you kind

And I hope you have all you've dreamed of

And I wish to you joy and happiness

But above all this, I wish you love

Finally I unleashed the power that my voice had gained throughout the years.  As the lights danced about with the beat of the song as well as my voice, the audience cheered as I belted out that famed last bit of the chorus.  Some were in tears while others were just in awe.  Ken and Nicole were dabbing their eyes trying to rid of their tears while Jenny and Robin were just shaking their heads in pure awe.

I don’t know if you’ll ever see this Brother Mine, but if you do, know that this performance is for you.  I hope you’re happy, safe, and healthy.  Both physically and mentally.

*Me*

And I will always love you

I will always love you

I will always love you

I will always

Love you

I will always love you

I, I will always

Love you

You, darling, I love you

Ooh, I'll always,

I'll always love you

I held out the last note as I slowly extended my arms before finally ending the song.  The audience cheered and applauded for another killer performance.

“Unbelievable! The lioness really pulling the heartstrings now!” Nick said as he came up and stood beside me.  “You even had me going there for a second there Lioness.” I gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder.

“Oh my god Lioness, let me just say. Your last few performances you were slaying and killing it with hardcore dancing, rock and roll and semi-aerial stuff. But this week……we truly got to see your voice. And that—rawness it just……you have me in tears.” Nicole said as she continued to wipe away her tears.

“I agree with Nicole.” Robin said.  I gave them a bow of my head.  “It’s—it’s really rare when we see female artists do such songs on this stage. Especially one as difficult as that song in particular. But you were the perfect voice to sing that song.”

“Thank you Robin.”

“Now it’s time to find out just what is inside the Mind of our Lioness. If you would just quickly step on over to our mind-reader. We would like to see just what’s within your Lioness brain.” I walked over to the machine that was gonna give an extra clue as to who I was.  “Scanning, scanning, scanning and it is…..a Police badge.”

I stepped out from the machine and walked back towards Nick.

“Do we have another Jackson family member on our hands?” asked Ken.  I remember thinking back to La Toya Jackson who was “the Alien”.

“Unlike Ms. Jackson I’m not a police officer. But I am directly involved with them.” The audience ooed.

“That give you any guesses panel?” Nick asked.

“Not a single one.” Jenny shook her head which made us laugh.

“Indirectly involved with the police. I mean does that mean she’s an informant? Reality star maybe?” Ken suggested.

“Maybe she played one on TV. Maybe it’s Priyanka Chopra.” Robin added.

“Yeah cause of her role in Quantico.” Nicole agreed.

“No guys I don’t think it’s Priyanka. It really doesn’t sound like her. Lioness has a more richer tone than she does.”

“Well we’re stumped!” Ken said as he sat down on his chair throwing his hands up in surrender.

“Oh now don’t give up son!”

“I can’t do it daddy! Just take off the mask and show us who you are Lioness!” Ken demanded but I shook my head and placed my index finger over my masked lips in shush.

“She knows the drill. Well you wowed us with your vocals, go on and head backstage. Give it up one more time for her royal highness the Lioness everybody.”

“That performance……really took a lot out of me. I was even crying at one point under the mask. But I hope I secured a spot for the Super 8.”  As I take my leave, the infamous Cluedle-Doo shows up and he tells the camera.

“Another infamous secret you might want to know about the Lioness here is that she also has ties in with space. Look at these stars, does it give you any hints? Because 2 people she cares about study it.”

“Oh it’s you! Come back you yah cocky Rooster! I’m really gonna turn you into fried chicken now!” I exclaimed as I chased after the Rooster whose been trying to give away more secrets about me.  He gobbled out in laughter as he ran away.

[leviiattacks]

Two Faced | Chapter Four

↳ levi ackerman, the very person who was about to kindly behead you by a surprising turn of events manages to become your loving husband? you would be elated if this was true love, but it's all thanks to a mysterious magic spell that your life is spared. for now at least.

pairing :: duke!levi x duchess!reader genre :: royal au, angst, fluff, slice of life etc word count :: 3k author note ::  you should also check out my ao3 and wattpad my username is LEVIATTACKS on both platforms. ao3 usually gets to see my updates first, feel free to leave any comments you have i appreciate all feedback ^___^ → next part is here!!

"Refer to me with that name once more and I'll see to it that your neck is snapped in two. Fucking Brat." His voice curls into a low hiss.

He rises from the bed making you jolt, if he's moving towards his dagger everything will be over in a matter of seconds. The tension between the two of you is foggy and uncertain.

Your line of vision is cloudy, bleary tears seize it. You should have tried harder whilst researching, found a way to make Lev stay, it hits you like a sack of bricks - you didn't try hard enough, was that the issue, was that the mistake you made this time? Mind full of harsh expletives you continue to curse yourself. Of course he left, of course he fucking did. Your life was one large cyclical narrative of earning the love of others and ultimately losing it along the way some how.

The world conditioned you to become independent, to not rely on others for affection, earn what you must on your own. Making your own way through life is all you know yet here you are. On the verge of tears because this damn fool won't remember you. Happiness is a privilege.

Staring into the distance you don't see the way your husband's glare thins out, neither do you notice how he leans forward invading your personal space.

"Care to explain how we got into this situation?" Breath fanning across your face exactly the same way it had months ago you gulp and realise he's staring at your lacy nightgown in sheer distaste. Oh no, He's got the wrong idea completely.

You jerk your head up to explain and only then is the close proximity between the two of you evident, you nearly knock your head against his as if you're inebriated. "No, no. We've never done that. I promise we haven't. I wouldn't take advantage of you." You're sputtering and are all over the place trying to hold some sort of ground in this conversation.

"I see that you saw no issue with taking advantage of me in other ways. You scheming money hungry roach."

You want to clear your name and tell him you really haven't touched any of his money. None of it at all to the point it's shameful to admit, especially considering the fact that everyone else sees you as Duchess Ackerman.

"I have not spent any of your money I swe-".

A deafening bang resounds through the room - in his fit of rage he kicks one of the solid oak drawers at the side of your bed to the floor.

A squeaky gasp falls out of your mouth and you flinch away as you cover your chest defensively. Your arms aren't the best armour but they work for now. If he's to stab you your worst fear is him piercing through your heart. What you fear most is him ripping the vital organ out of the confines of your chest. If he laughs hysterically and watches it bleed out you'll never forgive him. Your worries and doubts are internally eating away at you as you witness the darkness seeping into the corners of his vision.

It's quiet and dark and with him as well as a heavy silence looming over you, the pressure on your shoulders is quite literally immense.

He takes a hold of your chin and obnoxiously squishes your rosy cheeks together, dark tundra eyes never falter from yours, that is until they abruptly sink south and he catches drift of the way your night gown has ridden up. Thighs on full display you want to pull the edges of the material down but are too afraid to move under his deathly stare.

"Do you know how long I was stuck inside of my own body? Having to act like a fool on the daily."

"What?" You shakily reply through parted lips.

He was able to see everything he did under the spell? This changes the dynamic significantly. Cheeks flaring up in embarrassment you recall how you ate up all the sweet nothings he whispered into your ears, the scarlet blush creeps to the back of your ears when you think back to how you fervently kissed him goodbye whenever he was sent to venture outside the walls. The sanguine tint only intensifies when you think about the night where you accidentally let his bare hands venture a little too far.

"Naive little thing," he grunts. "You will never be my wife." He scowls sniffing at you in pure repulsion.

Whiskey, cigarette fumes and strong sweat infused cologne revoltingly is what you're reminded of when you hear those words leave his mouth. The stench isn't present but nevertheless you feel your throat constrict, never expecting to see any sort of parallel form between Levi and that man. The one time you stood your ground against Father it led to you being dragged away from the palace grounds, beat until you were unresponsive and left for dead. He left you there with the intention of extermination, his final words as he bid you goodbye that night had been - "You will never be my daughter."

You have no words left to offer, you're tongue tied. Expressionless whilst he gauges your reaction, the both of you don't register how Levi's grip on your cheeks loosens, that is until the look in his hooded eyes changes. They're inky now smoldering with resentment, he lets go of the hold he has on your face completely.

The separation between your face and his palm is stony.

All you want at that moment is for Lev to come back and wake you up from all of this. You've had enough of this sick and twisted nightmare where he doesn't look at you the way he normally does. The way he manhandles you irks you and lights a dangerous fire in your stomach.

Blinking your tears away you finally speak after your long silence "I know that My Lord." taking what may be one of your final breaths you announce the unthinkable "Feel free to finish what you were unable to last time."

"No begging?" he chastises you pulling you by the back of your ear.

"Would you spare me if I did?" The close ended question you respond with leaves him stiff.

Snatching your forearm you note that even when he's not under the constraint of the spell physical touch is consistently one of his ways of getting a point across. He jerks your tired form forward. "Who do you work for?"

Blood running cold you know he won't kill you now. He thinks you've come here with a purpose, a motive, a reason. Hell, all you did was ask to be loved, to experience something before the candle which was your life burnt out.

"No one. You said you were conscious in your mind whilst it all happened, correct?"

He nods albeit begrudgingly.

"Then you must have seen how I tried."

His right eyebrow cocks upwards ever so slightly. "Tried?"

Now it's your turn to be frustrated. "Tried to keep my distance, tried to ignore your advances, tried to refuse your gifts, tried to maintain a level of respect so the both of us would have some dignity remaining if you were to return some day. When I realised you would not stop with your persistence I accepted." You fumed - the fretful irritation you feel only increases by the second.

"Cut the crap." He snarls at you.

You want to snarl back with just as much impatience but you bite your tongue.

Maybe it's because it's late at night, maybe it's because you're fatigued or maybe it's because you already felt feverish and emotional - Honestly, any other reason apart from your husband turning his back on you and announcing you're a mongrel. Feeling light headed you clutch at your scalp harshly trying to control yourself, even Levi's firm hand which until recently held your left arm recoils away.

Falling to your knees you feel the way the floor grates against your bare legs. Your urge to pass out is nearly met but then you hear him.

"Honey???" The concern in his voice which had made you fall in love with him now repulses you.

Fists balling at your knees you silently sob, pitifully shaking your head.

This can't be your reality.

It can't be.

You won't let it be.

That night you find out nightmares can happen in real life.

Levi Ackerman being a prime example.

After the bitter encounter you leave the room and order Lev to not come after you, you need your own space and as much as you want him to return to his sweet, loving self it's pathetic to seek any comfort in him. That tyrant is bound to make another appearance soon enough and mock you for falling into his trap again, but really can you blame the man? Is this his fault or your own?

Whoever is at fault there will still come a time where the Levi you love won't come back and call you his Love. You'll have to get used to that bleak desolate reality. Assuming he doesn't kill you before you have to.

Day has now broken and the brisk morning air bites at you, scantily clad in your nightgown, It's abnormal, you think to yourself. The position you're in is one you imagined countless times but you never really thought you'd end up this way. You're about to drift off to sleep right there in the middle of the Estate's field of hydrangeas, too tired to actually care anymore when you hear a rustle from one of the surrounding bushes.

"Duchess?" Your head turns when you hear Mikasa's soft voice emerge from the hedges, she steps through them and you both stare at each other. Mouth open, gaping in shock she takes in your appearance. You can only imagine how you look right now. Dark eye bags, you aren't wearing your usual noble attire not to mention Levi has accidentally left a bruise on one of your arms. It's faint because it is accidental (you hope) it does not go unnoticed by Mikasa.

Her gaze hardens and she approaches your disheveled form kneeling in front of you.

"What happened?" She whispers, the panic is evident in her voice and you awkwardly chuckle in response.

"I had a horrible nightmare. That's all, honest."

"And it's Y/N need I remind you again?" Mikasa is big on respect and sure, it is cute but you want to remind her it really is okay to call you by your first name. After all you would consider her a friend, you hope she sees you the same way.

Giving you a look of disbelief she takes the hint that you don't want to talk about it but much to your delight she does take the advice regarding your name. She sounds hesitant but that's how she usually is, she'll get used to it in no time at all.

"Well...Y/N, Breakfast has been prepared." You can see the way she eyes your unkempt hair and shivering form. "Would you like to eat with me and Sasha?" this is her way of comforting you.

Your lips quirk up into a smile for the first time in a while.

"I would love that."

Twenty minutes and a change of clothes later you've all relocated to your tea room, Sasha doesn't ask questions about your hair or odd choice of clothing earlier this morning. The shadows Levi's fingers left on your arm are now carefully hidden by the sleeves of your baby blue dress. "Oh! Viscount Kirstein me and Y/N saw him yesterday. He's just like the rumours." Sasha exclaims as she stuffs her face with a croissant.

Mikasa takes a short sip from her tea cup. "And the rumours would be?"

You pick a cinnamon roll from the center of the table."Undeniably handsome. I mean he's not my type though."

Sasha looks momentarily confused. "He was drop dead gorgeous what do you mean?"

You laugh a bit at the disbelief on her face, Mikasa chooses to not intervene - she's obviously yet to come to her own conclusions about him.

"Yeah but you said it yourself he fucks anything in a skirt." Sasha, is wide eyed at first and chokes on part of her buttered croissant, you have never been so vulgar before. You guess the argument has left you more likely to voice your reckless thoughts. Snorting you try to keep your laugh in, the ghost of a smile makes its way to Mikasa's face and eventually she too dissolves into a puddle of laughter. The three of you laughing together genuinely eases the recent burden on your soul.

Just as you're about to crack another joke the door to your tea room rumbles.

BANG!  You seem to always be cut off when you're here because Eren Jaeger has burst inside perhaps for the seventh time this month. It's the same routine as usual, he's panting and catching his breathe before he speaks. You're in no mood to hear what he has to say.

"If the Duke has sent you please leave."

Mikasa gives him a "You better not ask any questions and take the damn hint" kind of look but bless Eren for he is completely and utterly clueless.

"It's urgent."

"Still rejecting." You hotly reply.

Mikasa icily interjects "Eren, would you stop being so bothersome?"

He looks between you and Mikasa helplessly. "The Duke says he expects your refusal but I can't return empty handed, I'll be given a punishment and it'll be worse than being made to clean the stables." He gives you a pleading look and he's so much younger than you, it makes you feel like he's your responsibility. Eren has a charming way of making himself feel like everyone else's annoying younger brother. You accept that he can't suffer because of your selfish denial.

Sighing deeply you take a final bite of your roll, if you're going to die you may as well do so on a full stomach. Before you depart you awkwardly get to your feet dusting your dress to buy some time as you bid Mikasa and Sasha goodbye.

You're now following Eren through the halls of the estate. Deep down inside, you know you aren't fearful. He won't kill you, not yet at least, he thinks you're a useful source of information relating to his external enemies, he would be stupid to overlook that detail. You'll exploit it for now, your key is survival, it always has and always will be that way.

Bumping into Eren's back you apologize for being absent minded, you swear the walk to Levi's office has always been much longer. He spares you a worried glance and looks as if he's about to offer you words of support but he stops himself before he opens the heavy door to Duke Ackerman's office. Perhaps he doesn't find it appropriate. Good, you think to yourself. You don't wish to hear motivation from anyone right now, it's nothing personal, it's that nothing can possibly be of motivation right now.

The door opens ever so slowly, your brain races making everything move at a sedated pace. Then you find yourself jolting upright in surprise. You soon realise expecting Levi to be the only person there was naive on your part. Eyes tensely land on the blonde in one of the cushioned caramel chairs. It's the Commander of the Empire's entire battalion — Erwin Smith.

Levi has ratted you out for sure, you spare a glance towards him and see the way he's trying to hide his feelings of amusement. You want to lunge over his desk and wipe that smug smirk off his face. The playful lilt in his usual unreadable expression is driving you mad. Next to Erwin is respected and high ranking Squad Leader Hange Zoe, you're quite well accustomed with them you've exchanged your fair share of words together and Hange has never failed to bring a smile to your face. The amusing air around them lights up any room they're in... Apart from this one that is.

Eren closes the door behind you and you're silent not really knowing what to do.

"Take a seat my beloved." Levi drawls. This isn't Lev you know that much, he's always enthusiastically jumping to his feet when he greets you.

Awkwardly sitting in the chair next to your husband you shake Hange's hand first then move to shake Erwin's. His warm palms envelope yours and he places a hand on your left shoulder. It's not at all similar to the way Levi held you earlier in the morning, the feeling is genuine. He has no ill intentions, all he seems to want to do is open a conversation.

"Y/N, we may not have much time but." He stops, unsure if it's for dramatics but you still intently listen.

The sea that is his blue eyes draws you in, you've only ever seen him from afar. If honesty and gentleness were a person it would be him no doubt about it.

He pats your shoulder and you snap out of your day dream. "Y/N. Thank you for your sacrifice and commitment to this Empire." His warm yet serious smile which follows simply confuses you, in fact this entire situation is doing that.

Jaw slacking you're dazed and bewildered, your thoughts are diverting in all sorts of direction now.

Whatever does he mean by sacrifice?

[scribblingfangirl]

GLOWING IN THE DARK #2 | The Punisher - Billy Russo

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Author’s Note: First of all: I am so sorry this part took so long (and it is very underwhelming as it’s just a few scenes of Y/N’s life on the base (all involving Billy - and I’m not sure if I got his character right in this one)). I tried to make it one longer coherent chapter, but I needed these scenes to be able to proceed to the more important parts of the story. Hope you guys don’t mind. I hope the next few installments will appear faster and will get better again. But for now, thank you for reading and enjoy!

word count:  ~ 2.7k

summary: Becoming Billy’s friend is weird - if whatever relationship you have is even considered a friendship.

warnings: //

| PREVIOUS PART | - | next part | - | SERIES MASTERLIST |

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You felt it – whatever or whoever it was – before you even heard or saw anything. 

As a Marine, you had undergone different kinds of training modules and boot camps and this wasn’t your first tour either. Your job before getting promoted to helicopter gunner had been to try and get in and out of places without raising any suspicion or getting in the way of the others that were fighting while you got the intel. Inevitably, however, sooner or later you had to fight your way out of wherever the hell you were as well.

It had heightened your senses, which made it almost impossible for you to have a good night's rest. The smallest change in the atmosphere or the slightest sound sent you straight to overdrive. No heavy eyelids, no blurry mind - just wide-awake and alert.

Of course, this wasn't the case with everyone though. After missions with the Blackbird crew, you’d seen Garth and Dane fall asleep as soon as their heads hit their pillows and nothing could wake them up after that. You even had some conversations with Frank about it whenever you stayed over at the Castles during your military leave. 

You’d call the day you were able to fall asleep within the first ten minutes of getting into bed and stay asleep for the whole night a miracle. That is why your eyes opened wide and your body went rigid as you blinked desperately and tried to adapt your vision to the darkness. Or at least find the smallest shimmer of light. Obviously, you had no such luck. After all, it was somewhere around the early hours of the morning and it was pitch-black in the tent. 

Your hand automatically went for the gun under your pillow, only to end up empty, and it took you a millisecond to realize that you weren’t in your cot in the tent you shared with Garth and Dane, but rather in the infirmary where weapons weren’t allowed. 

You decided to do the next best thing. You used your body.

In a swift movement and without much hesitation you grabbed the thing - a person as you came to realize in that very moment - in front of you and used the momentum to turn both of you around, pinning him (as you still were the only woman on the base) down on the bed, straddling his waist and pressing your upper arm on what you expected to be his throat.

A soft chuckle resounded through the tent. In the next second, you were blinking against the white lights that illuminated the infirmary, realising that you were holding Billy in a tight grip. And worse, straddling him. 

As your senses were still on a high (heart beating fast and body frozen) you were unable to do anything else other than stare shocked at Billy.

“Gotta admit Frankie boy, you trained her well,” Billy smirked up at you, his hands going to your waist to support you a little bit and take the weight of your injured foot.

“Na,” Frank shook his head, “All that was already there. I just showed her how to properly use and manage her strengths. Reminded her of who she once was.” Frank approached you both from his place beside the entrance and gently pulled you away from Billy, who started to massage his neck as he slowly stood up.

Billy chuckled at that. “A clumsy girl?”

“Hey! Watch it or I beat your ass-”

“Again… was that what you wanted to say? Do I have to remind you that you didn't beat my ass last time? That's why I told you that there are less violent ways for you to see my backside.”

You had soon realized that flirting truly was Billy’s defence mechanism, just as Frank had said. And humour. Whenever something turned uncomfortable for him he either turned on his charms or tried to alleviate the situation by making some stupid remark.

You had also realized that Billy had been right. You were terribly out of shape. Everything had hurt the day after the game, but you had guessed it might also have had something to do with the fact that two grown-up men literally tackled you to the ground the day before.

So you had gone to Frank, because, obviously, you couldn’t give Billy the satisfaction (or more time with you) and had asked him to give you some training lessons. A little refresher of your earlier days. 

“Okay… What would you do if I did this to you?” Frank asked while cornering you against a wall and trapping you between it and his body, putting his hands on either side of your head.

“Really Frank. Are we really going to look at Self-Defense 101? I’m weak right now, not stupid. I remember the training.”

“Well, show me then.”

Sighing you looked him straight in the eyes as you punched your straight fingers into his ribcage under his left armpit, causing him to withdraw his left arm entirely. Then you punched your fist into his left rib cage that was now open to you, pushing him slightly away from you before punching his chin and knocking your head against his.

Tumbling a few steps back Frank caught himself quickly and grabbed you, hugging you from behind as you had already turned around to move away. “Not so quickly.”

“Do you really want me to give you a concussion?” you groaned, leaning closer into him and knocked your head back into his.

With a grunt, and while trying to regain his footing after stabilizing you due to the additional weight you put into his arms, Frank loosened his arms around you and you went for his right knee. 

Ducking down fast and sliding your hands down his leg to his foot you pulled it up before Frank could regain his balance, throwing him to the ground behind you. You quickly turned around and sat triumphantly on his stomach. 

“Satisfied?”

“It’s a beginning.”

“That’s enough Bill.” Frank's deep voice brought you back to the present. “She might be a little clumsy sometimes, but it’s clear that you can’t say anything against her senses.”

“Hey! Whose side are you on?”

“Kid, let’s be honest. I saw you tripping over nothing but thin air yesterday, somehow managing to injure your foot while doing that. And then you proceeded to fall face-first to the ground.” Frank said as he moved you to another unoccupied bed. Thank god you were the only one in the infirmary right now. Scoffing you rolled your eyes. 

“The ground wanted a hug! Not my problem you’re a heartless guy. Ever thought about the fact that it might not want to just be trampled on? And anyway,” you added after a short pause, “you heard them yesterday after you insisted on bringing me here. I’m fine! Just a misstep, nothing a good night's rest with limited movement wouldn’t fix… which well, is kind of the opposite of what you two just did.”

“Ah well, sorry ‘bout that. Colonel Schoonover wants to go over some strategic movements first thing in the morning. Thought you might want to get caught up with the most important details first.”

“Oh. I see. And both of you were needed to bring me a, and I quote, ‘clumsy girl’ up to date?”

“Oh no. I’m sure Billy, who very enthusiastically volunteered, will do that just fine. I just followed to make sure you don't kill each other. You are welcome by the way.” 

-

After that, you weren’t sure if you were actually becoming friends with Billy (because you didn’t actually need to ‘up your friend game’) or just accustomed to him because he was always there whenever you were doing something with Frank.

Granted, there were times when it was just you and Billy (and multiple other Marines). Like that one time when you were waiting for the showers to turn purple (a term the base had coined to show that it was your time to use the facilities without having to check your surroundings for possible men to appear and take a shower with you.... they had realized how bad it had sounded the moment they had said it to you.)

You had been waiting in front of the facility as there was still around 10 minutes before they would turn purple and Billy had decided to keep you company by starting to annoy you (you couldn't believe how incredibly childish he could be - he gave you wet willies!)

Nevertheless, you had grown close enough to him to tell him about your time as a foot soldier and how you had a knack for repairing stuff, especially cars and aeroplanes thanks to your father. That he had been a military mechanic and that, after your mother had died when you were a baby, he had taken you with him whenever he had to move or do something for the military. That you had practically grown up on military bases and that joining wasn’t even a question, it was the only valid option in your life. And that one day the Marines had asked you to join their new helicopter crew and you couldn't say no, as you had wanted to feel closer to your father who had died a few years prior.

You had also talked about how you never met in New York (or about how Frank skillfully managed to keep you both apart) and about the fact that you guys have the same call sign (well, he and your helicopter). 

That was apparently enough for Frank to give you the “I know I said, I know Maria said, but do not fall in love with him”-speech one night while you were sitting on Billy’s bed, enjoying some alone time with Frank after some hectic weeks of training and strategy meetings.

“Don’t worry,” you had said and patted his back, “you know that my heart belongs to the sky. And, well, to Pete.”

Little did you know that Billy had just entered the tent when you said that.

-

"- hell Y/L/N!”

“It was my pleasure. But you know, maybe next time you could just thank me, one might think you don’t have any manners.”

“You could have died out there!"

"It was a test run Garth. If anything, we would have died together. Also, here I was thinking taking risks is your life motto. I mean, isn’t your name practically Gar-'With some good food I can conquer everything?'-field?"

"With good food, you can conquer everything… and everyone," he winked at you, “because even though the saying goes 'The way to a man's heart goes through his stomach' this applies to women and everybody else as well!"

You laughed and clapped his back as you pushed aside the plastic tarpaulin and let him pass you before leaving the tent as well. 

"Sounds like you gotta invite me for dinner sometime, as soon as we're stateside again!"

"Sounds like it!"

Remembering that you had to get something from your cot you turned around to get it, but stopped in your movement when you caught a glimpse of Billy, his fist tightly shut and his eyes glaring after Garth. Realizing that you were watching him, he turned around and stomped over to his own tent.

-

This repeated itself on multiple occasions. You talking to a fellow Marine or crew member and Billy seeing it and getting angry. Sometimes you realized it, sometimes you didn’t. Like the time in front of the dining tent. 

One of the Marines, you didn’t even know his name, had waved you over to give you a piece of mail that had found its way to him instead of you (apparently your names were similar enough to confuse the guy who had distributed them), apologizing for opening it already. 

You had just shaken your head, saying it wasn’t his fault and had turned the envelope around, causing a beautiful ring hanging on a thin necklace to fall into your hands. Smiling at it while suppressing some tears that were threatening to leave your eyes you had looked up at him. “I doubt you would be caught wearing this anyway.”

Of course, your luck had it for Billy to see him giving you the envelope and the necklace and to disappear through another entrance into the mess hall before he was able to hear you thank the guy for bringing you the envelope.

-

And then there was that time when you were pretty sure that Billy had become more to you. You weren’t sure what exactly, but more.

A Skype call for you had come through during the day, which Billy who had just passed by, accepted and told the man on the other side of the screen to wait while he got you. Sticking around he had to admit that he felt a little green now that he knew that not only Frank but even you had someone waiting for them when they came back. He wasn’t near enough to hear what was being said, but near enough to see you touch the computer before the connection ended and see you starting to cry terribly after that and rushing away, making Billy think the guy just broke up with you.

Frank had found you shortly afterwards (after Billy had gone to him to tell him what had happened, not being a very touchy-feely guy but thinking you might want someone around). He had talked to you, asked what had happened and you had repeated yourself, telling him that “my heart belongs to the sky now. Everybody I ever loved has left me, even though I am the one risking my life every day.”

Frank had just hugged you closer telling you that wasn't true. That he, Maria and the kids would always be there for you, that you wouldn’t be able to get rid of them now, no matter how hard you tried.

You didn’t know how long you had been sitting there, but then Billy had entered the tent, telling Frank that Maria was asking for a Skype call and Frank requested for Billy to stay with you. 

You both had stayed quiet for some time except for your sniffles and hiccups that came from you crying earlier.

“You shouldn’t be crying. You have more than enough men falling on their knees for you.”

Confused you had lifted your head to look at him through teary eyes. “What?” “You shouldn’t be crying because of Pete. I heard Garth inviting you on a dinner date as soon as you’re both on leave again and saw the Marine in Frank’s squad giving you the neck-”

You had started to laugh at that. “Wait what? Please don’t tell me that you’re jealous!” 

“No! Just… just annoyed I guess. I get called ‘Billy the Beaut’ and get called out on my shit and… and then you come along and you’re allowed to dance on all of our noses?” 

You had snorted, wiping your nose on your T-Shirt sleeve. “Welcome to the world of a woman. As normally it's the other way around. Doesn't feel nice, right?” You had chuckled sarcastically. “Anyway, who’s Pete?” 

“Who’s… Who’s Pete? Your boy-, well, your now ex-boyfriend? The guy who just broke up with you over Skype?” 

Being reminded of that Skype call had hurt you, but you had laughed anyway. His stupid conclusions and obvious obliviousness had helped you think of other things. “I might have kissed a Pete once, but I might have lost the memo that he was my boyfriend because as far as I know, I never had one.” 

“But the man-” 

“Was my cousin's doctor and now close friend due to the time we had to spend together.” 

“But you told Frank something about your heart and Pete. Wait, was?”

Of course, he had heard that. “Pete's another name for our bird. Yes, our callsign is Blackbird, but the guys call him Pete and I guess it stuck. And yes, was. He just called me to tell me that my cousin died of cancer. No… please. I don’t need your condolences. I’ve been around death for quite a while. It feels almost normal already.”

“It shouldn’t.”

“I know… but what can I do? I cried and now I have to stand up and make sure that we don’t meet too quickly again, that's what she would want.” 

After that you both had sat there, quiet again, shoulder against shoulder, staring at the green plastic of the tent. Never realising that Billy, however unpleasant that situation might've been for him, never searched for a way out of it.

•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•..•´¯`•.

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[oh-my-damn]

The Kiss

Chapter 3 of my Stucky x OC story on Wattpad; Electric - Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes

Find the first two chapters here. 

Check out my Wattpad for more chapters, there’s currently more than 150 chapters published, as of 15/8-21. 

Story is rated M for mature as it contains a lot of smut. Kink warnings can be found in the Author’s note on Wattpad (there’s a lot..)

Warnings for this chapter: Kissing, make out session (Stevie moves fast in this story), some grinding and pining. Also a bit of angst and confusion. 

MADELINE

Lunch was awkward.

After I brought up Bucky, Steve continued to act weird for the rest of the meal.

He barely said anything.

After a while of awkward silences, we finished eating and Steve left the kitchen. I went to the gym to get some basic training in, expecting Steve to come meet me as planned.

After about an hour or so of me training weights I realize Steve is not coming to train me as he was supposed to, and so I decide to go back to my room.

I honestly thought he knew and that bringing up Bucky would be a good thing. I had no idea he would react like this.

I am lying on my bed contemplating what an idiot I am as I hear a soft knock on my door.

It's so quiet that I barely hear it but I do.

"Who is it?" I yell out.

It takes a second for someone to reply but when he finally does I hear his magnificent voice.

"It's Steve. Can I come in? I won't dare to open the door before you allow me to."

I chuckle to myself. "Yes Steve. It's safe. I am dressed. Come on in"

I sit up on my bed as the door opens and I see Steve standing in my entryway.

He is looking at me in a way I can't decipher.

Is he mad at me? I don't know how to read this man.

"Madeline" he says as he closes the door behind him, "I'm sorry for the way I reacted earlier and that I didn't show up for training. I just didn't know that was how you met or got your powers, and the mentioning of Bucky in that context was a surprise to me."

He looks wounded as he speaks and it makes me feel instantly guilty.

He walks a few steps into my room and continues, "Bucky and I are at a fragile stage. He is still getting rid of the programming HYDRA did to him and he has been back and forth to Wakanda. I was his mission so it's been difficult for him to get fully back when it comes to our friendship. I hope you know my reaction had nothing to do with you but mainly due to mine and his relationship currently."

He looks down to his feet and he seems so vulnerable, my first reaction is to hug him.

I want to touch him and hold him close and make him feel better but I restrain myself.

"Steve, it's okay. I understand. I'm sorry for bringing it up."

He walks a bit further into the room and is now standing at the edge of the bed where I'm sitting.

He looks to the bed and then at me and asks "Can I sit?"

I nod silently and he places his beautiful self on my bed.

I could have jumped out of my own body right there.

As I look at him he continues.

"It's not your fault Madeline. You didn't know. How could you know? I understand you were just trying to find something we had in common and I appreciate it."

He smiles to himself as he looks down.

I reply "Yes well, I guess I was just trying to make it seem less awkward between us..."

He suddenly turns to look at me.

"You think it's felt awkward between us?" He looks at me with a confused expression.

I look at his beautiful blue eyes and reply, "Well... Yes. I haven't been sure if you really enjoyed my company or not. Half the time I feel like I'm a burden to you. So I was just trying to help you relate to me."

He looks at me for a second and then turns away and chuckles to himself.

"What's so funny?" I ask him, annoyed.

He looks back at me and then says "Nothing's funny. Actually, it's all very frustrating. I'm very sorry you thought I didn't like you. It's actually the exact opposite."

He studies my face as he finishes his sentence and I freeze.

What did he just say?

Before I can even think properly his face is right in front of mine and he breathes heavily as he says "Madeline? Can I kiss you?"

I study him and he looks so genuine and pure and I instinctively nod.

He puts his lips on mine so fast I don't even realize at first but once I do, I feel it.

I feel it all. The heat. The impulse.

The electricity.

As he kisses me deeper I feel my energy surge through me.

I have never been kissed like this.

I have been kissed before, yes, but it was never like this.

It never felt like electricity.

And for a person with actual energy coursing through her body, electricity is well.... electric. Quite literally.

As he puts both his hands on my jaw I put mine on his neck to grab his hair and as I do, a tiny electric shock comes out of my finger tips where I touch him.

I hear the spark and I quickly pull away in panic.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"

He rubs his neck and looks at me. "Doll, what was that?"

I blush a bit and look down.

"That might have been me..."

He tilts my head back up as he locks eyes with me.

"I thought you said you were in control." He smirks.

My cheeks turn even more red as I reply "I guess I lost it a little bit there."

He grabs me by the back of my neck and pulls my hair, his lips almost touching mine.

"I will never blame you for losing control with me because I have been losing mine since the first time I saw you. And you could never hurt me darling... I'm Captain America, I can handle you when you lose control" and then he crashes his lips onto mine.

Our lips move in perfect synchronization and it feels amazing.

He pulls me closer and as a result, pulls my hair a bit harder and a moan escapes my lips.

This seems to affect him and he deepens the kiss.

I open my mouth a bit and suddenly our tongues collide as well.

He moves while kissing me and I feel him position his body between my legs, his manhood throbbing against my crotch and I moan once again.

As I do he pulls away and watches me intensely.

I see the lust and heat in his eyes and I feel the same.

He must see it because in one swift motion he switches around and pulls me onto him so that I am sitting on his lap. He grabs my hair again and pulls me into another deep kiss and as he does I am grinding on him. I can't help myself. This feels so good I just want to feel him deeper. I want more.

I grind against him and I feel him hardening underneath me.

As I start to rub myself against him a moan escapes my lips once again and it fuels him further.

He pulls me away, his breath heavy and quick as he studies my face.

As he is about to pull me back in for another kiss, a loud noise interrupts everything and I quickly jump off his lap.

"Hello, Madeline. Are you there?"

Visions voice interrupts us abruptly and his loud knocking ruins the mood.

Steve and I look at each other as we try to gather ourselves before allowing Vision entry but he doesn't wait and suddenly he storms through the door.

I scramble to compose myself in the few seconds I have and Steve does the same.

As Vision enters my room he keeps speaking.

"Madeline, I couldn't wait to meet you, Wanda has told me so much about you so I thought I would introduce myself and we could..." he pauses as he sees Steve Rogers sitting at the end of my bed.

I managed to hurl myself off his lap but I doubt my cheeks have reached their natural color yet and I can tell that Steve is still on edge after what happened.

Vision looks from me to Steve and he pauses and looks at him for a second, tilting his head to the side. Only after that he speaks again.

"Captain! I didn't expect you here. I was just coming to introduce myself after Wanda has told me so much about our special new recruit."

He moves a bit to the side and I suddenly see Wanda smiling at me and once she realizes what she just walked in on, she waves at me awkwardly and then says "Maddie, it's just been so long I wanted to say hi. And Cap.. Hello. Hope we didn't interrupt anything."

I look at Wanda with widened eyes and I don't know what to reply.

Luckily, Steve replies quickly "It's all good you guys. I was just talking to Madeline about our training sessions for the next few days.."

He turns to me and we lock eyes and I can tell he was hoping for much more than what's happening right now.

As he gazes into my eyes he says "Madeline.. I will see you later and we can discuss further. I will come back once you're done catching up. Is that okay?"

As he says the last part I see the spark in his eyes.

"Yes, of course Captain Rogers. I appreciate your understanding."

I smile back at him shyly and after I do so he looks back to Wanda and Vision standing in my doorway.

"Alright then", he stands up from my bed and walks towards the door. Vision and Wanda move away a bit to give him space.

He turns back to me and says "I will see you soon then. I have some stuff I need to handle now..." He smiles at me shyly but Wanda and Vision don't see.

I am still sitting on my bed as Wanda walks towards me.

"Maddie! Come up here! Give me a hug! It's been so long, I've missed you!"

I stand up and she pulls me into a warm embrace. Behind her I can see Vision staring at me, probably trying to figure out what just happened here.

He's not the only one who would like to know.

What did just happen here?

Wanda sits down next to me on the bed and we catch up.

She tells me stories about her latest adventures and I listen as attentively as I can.

In the back of my mind I am still thinking about Steve and the way he was kissing me just a few moments ago.

She introduces me to Vision and they talk for a bit and although they are very sweet and interesting, I am still thinking about Steve. I feel guilty but I just can't keep my mind off him.

After a while Vision leaves to go work in the lab and I am left with Wanda. She turns to me.

"So. Vision is not human and doesn't understand these things. But I know what I saw. Now that he left... tell me everything."

I look back at her with a confused look.

"What do you mean?"

I try to sound nonchalant but by the look on her face I am failing. She grins at me and taps me slightly on the shoulder.

"Maddie! Stop playing! Steve Rogers was sitting on your bed when I walked in! You can't fool me!"

She looks at me and her gaze is locked in. I try to avoid her eyes but there is no way. I'm not getting out of this.

"Well..." I say.

I look down at my fingers as I twiddle my thumbs and I can feel my cheeks blushing.

I look back up at my beautiful friend who has been one of my closest confidants since I gained my powers. Wanda knows, she understands everything I went through. We shared many memories and thoughts during my trainings and I do trust her more than anyone right now.

I look away for a bit to gather my thoughts and as I look back at her she looks at me with expecting eyes.

"He kissed me."

Her eyes go wide and she slaps my thigh a little harder than I would have liked and yells "WHAT!"

She looks me up and down with a surprised look on her face and once again I have to look away as to not blush.

When I turn back to look at her she grabs my hand.

"Maddie. That's crazy. Do you understand what this means?"

I furrow my eyebrows and look back at her, "No, what does it mean? What do you know?"

She sighs and gathers her thoughts before replying, "Steve Rogers met the presumed love of his life during World War II. He went in the ice and came back seventy years later only to find her old and having had a husband and family. He never moved on. He has never loved anyone else. Either this is very important to him or you are just a distraction to him. I know how you have felt because you've told me however you need to figure out whether this is real for him or just a distraction before this goes any further."

I look Wanda in the eyes to try and study what she really means but she is sincere. All I get from her is honesty. I look down to my hands and realize what a bad mistake I've made.

I don't want to be Captain America's distraction.

I don't want to be anyones distraction.

As I look at Wanda and the serious look on her face I realize I must distance myself from whatever entanglement this would have been until I know what he wants for sure.

[gayregis]

Honestly if you just wanted to revisit your thoughts on Eternal Flame and its homiesexual text/subtext, I would be delighted. I love that short story and I love hearing your thoughts on the stories aodnsjsjabsjx

fghjkl i just think it was a story very centered on geralt and dandelion’s friendship and it did so in a manner which exceeded the sort of generally accepted norms of “friendship” and went into “being gay for your best friend”

i mean the story literally begins by them both being dumped by their girlfriends, but not too upset about their relationship drama because they have each other for company now. they plan to spend the day and night together, and throughout the story they have the general geralt and dandelion friendship interactions - trying to get some food and drink, joking around, dandelion being overly dramatic or preoccupied with sex and geralt being mopey and unamused. when things go wrong and there is conflict in the story, they of course still are spending the day together and thinking of a way to deal with the problem. overall, the story is a look into day-to-day life of when geralt and dandelion run into each other and hang out.

another thing of note is how dandelion hypes geralt up during when they meet tellico-in-biberveldt’s-form, calling him the terror of strigas and werewolves and all, which is a nice and awarding description for a man whose job it was to kill some shit in a sewer last chapter. of course, it’s dandelion (overdramatic and flowery with language), and they’re close friends, so of course he is going to describe geralt as thus, but it’s a reminder of how positively dandelion views geralt and how he both doesn’t see him as repugnant for being a witcher (as is the case with many geralt encounters) and isn’t ashamed to have a witcher as his best friend (as would be the case with many others, who treat witchers like bad omens), and also since it’s dandelion, it’s telling that he doesn’t let his own arrogance get in the way of lauding his friend with his proud titles and descriptions. although dandelion is self-loving, he is not so overwhelmingly so that he would ever refuse to acknowledge or downplay geralt’s presence.

another thing is how, when geralt, dandelion, and biberveldt are visited by chapelle and the men of the eternal fire, dandelion begs geralt to not start a fight with them because it will end in disaster, and geralt refuses to promise him that, and when chapelle speaks to him, he is internally very aggressive and alert, very displeased. of course, he is geralt, he doesn’t love authority and he dislikes the eternal flame for their persecution of nonhumans... but the aggression he feels towards chapelle reminds me of the aggression he felt towards toruviel in edge of the world when she broke dandelion’s lute, or in season of storms when dandelion has a knife to his throat, it’s only when dandelion is afraid or hurt that geralt really gets aggressive.

but the climax of the story is geralt literally being inable to enact violence towards tellico for the compounded reasons of “i value innocent life too much” and “the embodiment of this value of life is my best friend” ... 

the fact that geralt is pretty aggressive still towards tellico when he turns into him, but once tellico turns into dandelion geralt just... stops fighting and completely rules out any physical harm from the equation. he practically “gives up” the fight, it’s like tellico changing into dandelion was all geralt needed in order to be persuaded, because it’s the only form that he would listen to. after tellico switches forms to that of dandelion, geralt listens to him, and he also is not described as making any sudden movements, he doesn’t think as if he’s in a fight anymore, the narration is not that of a “fight scene” - something i recognize from when geralt is in a fight is that the prose switches to a certain point of view of his where his actions and options are narrated (e.g., in a grain of truth when he fights vereena, the sword of destiny where he fights the dryad scalpers). he instead hears tellico’s every word out, and “reluctantly nods,” and “says nothing.” he’s practically frozen compared to what he was prepared for just a moment ago when tellico took his form, when he threatened to carry him out of the city in a handcart.

and what makes it even more suggestive is that this wasn’t a random guess from tellico that “maybe if i take dandelion’s form he’ll lay off because they’re friends!” ... no, this was strategy that he came up with from literally taking geralt’s form and reading his mind - “i took over your thoughts, only briefly, but it was sufficient, do you know what i’m going to do now?” - tellico, after being in geralt’s form, immediately makes the decision to change forms into that of dandelion, because he knew geralt’s mind while he was in his form. that means that tellico read geralt’s thoughts only briefly but from this inside view of geralt’s mind, knowing what his greatest fears, loves, dreams, hopes, passions, regrets, etc. are... he thought it would save his life to change into dandelion, because he knew from geralt’s mind that geralt would listen to him in that form.

additionally, after this occurs, geralt... doesn’t tell dandelion in the falling action of the story. he had the chance to, when dandelion drew near, he might have smirked and said something like “don’t look too closely at his boots” (tellico-in-dandelion’s-form’s cordovan boots were sticking out of the carpet that geralt rolled him up in, so dandelion could have recognized them if he paid attention, since he seems to be so caring about his footwear as in the beginning chapter)... this raises the question why geralt wouldn’t tell him about what happened, why he wouldn’t communicate to dandelion about this, maybe warning him that tellico could change into him in an effort to evoke sympathy, or to break it to dandelion that his famous persona had been stolen for a little while. dandelion literally jokes and asks geralt why vespula was so surprised to see him, asking what was wrong with her (vespula was frightened because she smacked tellico-in-dandelion’s-form with the copper pan, but then saw dandelion coming down the road... double vision). geralt could have easily explained to him then, he had the perfect opportunity to say, “oh, dudu changed into your form and so vespula was scared for she saw two of you, [insert biting sarcastic comment here about how one dandelion is certainly enough, and how he would be scared seeing two of dandelion as well].” ... but geralt doesn’t tell him, and that makes me think that tellico taking dandelion’s form was a moment of emotional vulnerability for him, something that geralt doesn’t want to share or joke about, something that was uncomfortable for him. that makes me ask the question how geralt emotionally took that confrontation in the alleyway, what he felt about his own actions (or rather, inaction), and why he might be reluctant to share about that.

i think there is also this tension of the myth of the doppler being about the physical world, changes to a physical form, a form which is tangible and real. it’s not only that tellico evoked the image of dandelion, but that he was him - and the narration from geralt’s point of view seems to... lurk on a lot of not only physical characteristics that he noticed, but mannerisms and behavior that he knew instinctively as being those of dandelion. he describes his curly hair, his smile, his laugh ... the focus on physicality, body, face, and how one exists in the physical world, intimate details like those described just seem very out of place for someone who you’d only consider a best friend, a platonic relationship. one could argue that this is just standard narration for describing the changing of a form for a doppler, but the same style of narration was not given when dudu changed into biberveldt, or when he changed into geralt. additionally, things like smile, laugh, song, and style of flirting are very close and positive details, and other more “neutral” aspects like height and weight and clothes could have been described instead. this suggests that the most striking elements about dandelion to geralt are his curly hair, his insolent smile, his rippling laugh, his blue eyes, his song, and his flirting ... which are ... intimate to say the least

and of course the story ends with them going to a brothel! which continues these themes (two themes which dandelion always invites) of the comedic and the physical. what’s also striking to me is that at the very end of the story, dandelion asks geralt if he’s coming along or what, and geralt smiles to him and says he will join him with pleasure. geralt smiling is honestly a rare event (though it does happen, in dandelion’s character debut in the voice of reason he smiles at him), so i think it’s something to pay attention to. additionally, the line translated in the UK edition is “right, very satisfactory. geralt, are you coming?” and “i’ll come with pleasure,” which focuses on the words ‘satisfactory’ and ‘pleasure’ which are also words i wouldn’t relegate to being solely platonic.

additionally, this might be a bad take but i’m going to say it anyways because i’m gay so i can say what i want regarding lgbt themes ig: the ending of the story is that chapelle is actually a doppler who has taken chapelle’s form, since the real chapelle has died. tellico beseeches geralt, in dandelion’s form, to let him live and live amongst the people of novigrad, because he’s tired of being dehumanized and persecuted, and just wants to live in peace. there is a theme surrounding the dopplers as they are shapeshifters and chameleons, having to change who they are in order to blend in with the rest of society. again, this might be a bad take, but this kind of strikes me as an analogy for being lgbt, because when you are lgbt in a homo/transphobic society, you have to hide who you are and adapt your outward appearance into something that others will accept, and you are persecuted even though you are harmless and don’t mean to cause anyone trouble. of course, this could be a wider analogy about persecution and being marginalized in general (cultural assimilation, anyone?) and compring any marginalized people to nonhumans sucks (wouldn’t be the first or only time sapkowski went there, though), but ig as a gay person i found myself relating to the plight of the dopplers. the ending message of the story is also positive, something like there is hope and life in the world despite hatred (re: tellico’s ending to dandelion’s ballad) and the dopplers, the persecuted ones, are actually everywhere in society despite appearances that they’re not (not the best execution because you know figures of authority suck but whatever)

TLDR eternal flame is a little fruity to me because

geralt and dandelion want to be in each other’s company (as always)

geralt and dandelion’s relationship is again characterized by ability to be casual and comfortable in each other’s presence, working together through difficulty and conflict, and standing up for one another/being proud on the other’s behalf

tellico strategically takes dandelion’s form to evoke kindness and respect in geralt, and it works completely

geralt’s pov focuses on dandelion’s intimate physical and behavioral traits

geralt smiles and tells dandelion “i’ll come with pleasure”

vague lgbt themes about the dopplers