#sobbing @ their thumbnails i am losing it

[yyuuraii]

oh wow i wonder what happened

#sobbing @ their thumbnails i am losing it #double life smp #dlsmp #double life smp spoilers #yyuu rambles

[shikai-the-storyteller]

Ok, pre-lore Karmaland liveblog + the inevitable L / Q lore liveblog whenever that starts:

(very late because I forgot to hit "post” before I left the house orz)

Sapo Peta: I WILL rescue Luckity Me: King you better rescue Luzu’s PC first he’s been lagging ALL DAY

Oh man Sapo Peta doesn’t think of Quackity romantically after the situation in the cave?? I don’t even remember what happened in the cave I just remember that they had a big fight

Sapo Peta: If I save Luckity, it will also save Karmaland *HEAVY BREATHING* DOES THIS MEAN MY THEORY IS CORRECT???

As long as Sapo Peta can keep them from dying that’s what matters :(

Sapo Peta’s trying so hard to help them, he’s not concerned about love or his own feelings :(((

Gosh I wish he’d post a PNG of the Karmaland news so I could translate it and read it properly :(

why is Alexby hitting on Sapo Peta GIRL ARENT YOU ENGAGED

Actually Fargan never frickin proposed, chase your bliss Alexby you deserve something

Awh Sapo Peta saying he’s suffered enough in love :((( Poor Sapo Peta, his poor heart...

OH NO HE SAID HE FEELS USED....MAN I FEEL SO BAD

Sapo Peta just said of all the worlds he has been to, this is the worst, the most chaotic of all, J E E Z

AWH.. ALEXBY GAVE HIM A HUG  TT o TT

I adore Alexby so much he’s SO sweet

Wait why are they visting Vegetta I missed that completely

Man I really hope Luzu’s tech issues will get fixed. Can you imagine if they all had to stop mid-lore and go UHHHH TBH TOMORROW because Luzu can’t log in? Pftt

LMAO SAPO PETA SAYING “Everyone wants a frickin thumbnail”, poor guy. “All of you only want me for clicks :(((”

Rubius just realized Vegetta is on the server and they’re immediately fighting in DMs boys PLEASE

Alexby telling Sapo Peta he’s in love with Fargan.... FARGAN LOG THE FRICK ON, Fargexby fans are the real losers today, no matter how Luckity ends :( I’m so sorry Fargexby fans but at least you got your crumbs

LUZU’S ONLINE??? OH BOY

oh no but what if he can’t go live again?

Noooo Rubius said he has a Christmas present that can’t be opened until December, but Karmaland probably won’t last until the 25th of December SOBS

Sapo Peta said he has a plan for Luzu and Quackity to restore peace to Karmaland, and he will try to make them fall in love again and I’m like. A) My theory is absolutely correct and B) MY HEART IS SHATTERED

Ow someone said “Maybe they’ll forgive each other but I don’t know if they’ll be able to fall in love again”

IMO even if they forgive each other I don’t think they’ll ever be the same as they were before. They aren’t the same people anymore. The person they loved isn’t there anymore, but the love remains

FRICK LUZU AND Q JUST WENT LIVE

Quackity: Someone in chat just said "I hope it ends up with a wedding". So stupid, mock them in chat LMFAO DONT BE FRICKIN RUDE QUACKITY, LET US DREAM IT”S ALL WE HAVE

Quackity: Today we are having a conversation with Luzu but what he doesn't know is that I'm taking something with me that threatens his life WHAT IS THIS ACTUALLY GONNA BE A MURDER SUICIDE ENDING?? Does he have a bomb on him or something?? QUACKITY PLEASE DONT DIE

Quackity: It ends today. Chat: You should fix it in bed Quackity: NO. Today either he dies or I die LMFAO CHAT.....GUYS PLEASE

Quackity: I'm about to have the most important conversation in my life and Rubius has me trapped down here LMAO Rubius really said “The bit > Lore” and He’s Right

Luzu: Today, Quackity and I have to either work together... or say goodbye. [SKULL EMOJI]

Sapo Peta told them if they went to space they might not be able to come back?? Maybe that’s what they mean when they say Karmaland will end, because they will no longer be in Karmaland???

Rubius: It’s better this way, if I can’t come back HUH???

Sapo Peta: They always ask me for a thumbnail but they never ask me how I am LMFAO I LOVE HIM

I take it back, Fargexby fans aren’t losing, Sapo Peta himself is losing

Rubius has Titi’s stick :(((

Rubius: I’m excited to see Titi again SOBBING

I love that Luzu and Quackity are both doing a dramatic monologue rn

I KEEP FORGETTING LUZU JUST HAS THAT GIANT NUDE PAINTING OF HIMSELF IN THE MAYOR’S OFFICE LMAO. Imagine trying to talk about politics with the Karmaland mayor and you gotta stare at his naked portrait while discussing some environmental protection act or something PFTTTT

oh man he still has Rubius’ daughter I FORGOT ABOUT THAT

Oh next week they’re going to revive Titi? So Luzu and Quackity might not live to see Titi come back? Oh no

Luzu: It's necessary to forget everything Quackity has done, temporarily. If we're not united, we're doomed. That’s for sure

Luzu: I have to think of Karmaland. Everything I've done has been for Karmaland, I cannot be selfish right now. Oh? I thought everything was supposed to be for Quackity? Hmmmmm suspicious

Quackity: Right now I don't care about Karmaland. I care about my revenge UH OH Man that contrast...

WHAT THE FRICK

Oh is that Sapo Peta??? LMFAO that voice caught me off-guard

THEY BOTH GOT TRANSPORTED AND QUACKITY INSTANTLY STARTS SHOOTING LMFAO

Quackity: HELP Luzu: QUACKITY STOP SHOOTING THIS IS NOT HELPING PFTTT

But his instinct to call for help :((((

Quackity: WHICH OF YOUR HENCHMAN IS DOING THIS? Luzu: NOT EVERYTHING IS ABOUT YOU !!!!

THEY GOT LED INTO A FANART ROOM IM LOSING MY FRICKIN MIND

THEY PULLED GUNS ON EACH OTHER

l o r d

PFTT OK VALID REACTION

OH MY GOSH I DIDNT EVEN FRICKIN NOTICE THERE’S A BED IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROOM IM SCREAMING?? THIS IS LITERALLY A FANFIC WHAT IS *HAPPENING*

Oh my gosh they can’t kill each other THANK GOODNESS THAT SCARED ME SO BAD WHEN LUZU SHOT HIM IN THE HEAD

They’re actually talking... but... :(((

But will it change anything? Or will it make things worse? Will Quackity even believe anything Luzu says?

Luzu: It's true, I committed fraud. But I swear to you. It was to protect you. Just before the elections, I had a vision. I didn't remember anything but pain after I woke up, and something in me told me that I had to stop you from being the mayor because I didn't want you to suffer, or be used by others. I wanted to tell you everything, but you got crazy. I wanted to do everything with you, but you behaved unlawfully. I couldn't talk to you anymore. You weren't you anymore, you went insane. Oh my heart is shattered

They should’ve communicated more :((

Luzu: If we had talked to each other from the beginning, nothing would have happened. LIKE I SAID

wait why is Luzu watching a Football Ad

Sapo Peta: I see hate in your eyes Quackity

Quackity: Luzu, you were the best person I knew in Karmaland AGH!!!

Quackity: you're the only one who offered me a hand, and it stops me from shooting you right between the eyes right now AGH....

Quackity: Listen to me carefully. One of the main rules of power and life is the concept involved in our culture. You were the best person I knew. Ever since I came here, my welcome was mocking and humiliation. But you helped me. And I am thankful for that, even now. It took me a while to get accustomed here. But now that I have, I became someone. My voice was heard. And through politics, I finally was heard. And even if they didn't agree with me, I was in a position to be different from the person I was when I got here. And you took that away from me. And even if you want to pretend you wanted to protect me, I don't believe you one bit. I don't regret anything I've done because you took the most important thing I wanted. Oh this writing is so good...

LET HIM FINISH TALKING LUZU!!!!

One of Quackity’s biggest things has always been agency, but he feels like Luzu is taking away that agency and that freedom, and ultimately, his voice. And to some extent, he’s right.

Nooo nooo this isn’t working this isn’t working on no it’s just like we thought

They’re too hurt :(((

Quackity: I got nothing else to live for right now. You took my house, you humiliated me, right now, the only thing I want is to kill you. It's the only thing I will do once we leave, even if I die trying. Oh my heart aches so much

Luzu: What's the first thing I told you? Don't trust anyone but me. And if you did trust me, you would have asked why I did what I did. Quackity: You aren't listening! I am thankful, but I don't care anymore! A FRIEND SHOULDN’T JUST ASK FOR THAT TRUST! THEY SHOULD SHOW IT! QUACKITY IS RIGHT! And it hurts but I understand what he’s saying

Oh my gosh it scared me when Luzu yelled FRICK he’s so good

ahhhh and they’re shooting at each other again, there’s just no way to resolve this peacefully. The hurt runs too deep, the scars are too strong

Sapo Peta sounds so sad :(((

Quackity: Sapo Peta, just let me kill Luzu, then you can kill me. Then everything will end, then Karmaland will be peaceful. FRICK HE REALLY IS GOING FOR A MURDER SUICIDE ROUTE FRICK!!! SAPO PETA PLEASE SAVE THEM

EVEN IF THEY DONT RECONCILE, DONT LET THEM DIE PLEASE

Sapo Peta: For power you've done very bad things. It doesn’t matter anymore what you two have now, because I will erase your memories

WHAT

NO

NOO

NO SAPO PETA IS GOING TO ERASE THEIR MEMORIES NO NO NO SAPO PETA THIS IS NOT WHAT I FRICKIN MEANT!!!!!

Quackity: WHAT THE F**K ARE YOU DOING SAPO PETA -- I SWEAR THERE ARE BETTER WAYS TO DEAL WITH THIS

NO THIS IS SO MUCH WORSE THAN WE THOUGHT NO NO NO DONT DO IT

Sapo Peta: I don't care what you think of each other! Karmaland comes first! Luzu: I won't forget anything you've done! I will keep the memories somewhere and I'll kill you! AND ITS TRUE LUZU’S THE ONLY ONE WHO REMEMBERS THINGS. HE”LL FEEL IT, EVEN IF HE CANT REMEMBER IT

Quackity: Please don't erase my memories I cant live what I've lived through again OH NO... NO NO please don’t re-traumatize him like this

Sapo Peta: This will hurt a little bit Quackity: Please don’t do this

Oh this hurts so much

NO OH NO HES ACTUALLY DOING IT NO!!! NO SAPO PETA PLEASE NO

Quackity: My only purpose is to kill you! I won't forget anything you've done! And before we're brainwashed, I can tell you I'm glad I killed your kids. You don't know how much I've wanted to kill you, I've prayed for it. I'm willing to die to kill you! 

Oh my gosh. he actually did it. Sapo Peta actually erased their memories

Sapo Peta: Oh I’m so glad you’re awake! You were in a coma :D OH FRICK OFF

Sapo Peta’s introducing them to each other I want to SOB

Luzu: “Quackity”... like a duckling! I’m gonna frickin turn into a pile of dust

Quackity: I’m going to call you Vlogs Luzu: Please don’t I WANT TO LAUGH BUT MY HEART HURTS TOO MUCH

So they can remember everything except for each other :((((

Oh no Quackity’s bringing up his cousins, Sapo Peta can’t allow him to see his cousins again though or they’ll remind him aGHHGHHHHH

Luzu: Where do you live, Quackity? Quackity: I used to live in an island, but now I'm homeless. Luzu: Maybe I can help you out, come to my house! Though I can tell you, don't trust people in Karmaland. Quackity: I've been living here for a while though. I CRAVE DEATH

AH.... HE CALLED QUACKITY QUACKS

But this plan won’t work -- because as soon as they talk to literally anyone else in Karmaland, they’ll remember

OH NO QUACKITY IS ASKING ABOUT THE ELECTIONS

Wait I JUST realized Luzu changed out of his outfit that’s such an AWESOME frickin detail. Reposting this tweet because their photo comparisons is so much better than the screenshots I took

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

Ok I got interrupted for a giant 2 hour meeting so I’m going to rewind and rewatch some stuff because I was too caught up writing down stuff for this liveblog, I feel like I didn’t appreciate the details enough. Going to focus more on watching this time than note taking, but I’ll pause when I have major thoughts I’d like to share

:((((

I think it’s interesting how differently they react to the dark space when they’re first transported. Quackity shouts for help, and Luzu almost seems to shrink into himself and is instantly cautious. Quackity’s loud aggressive approach vs. Luzu’s quiet analytical one

Also. Good lord. The fanart room. See this is another reason I’m rewatching because I was too busy writing notes to truly get a good look at just WHAT Sapo Peta put in there

WOW HE PUT SOME REALLY SHIPPY ONES IN THERE

awh one of the DTIYS Blisky drawings is there! Awwww

Ah Yes And Then There’s One Of Them Sleeping Together (biblically) PFTTT. Makes me wonder how often Sapo Peta browses the tag for the Newspaper / for these uhhhh events shall we say. Sapo Peta / Maxo is braver than any US Marine

It’s so cool being like :O ! I KNOW THAT ARTIST but also I wonder how they felt seeing their art in that room. If it was me I think I’d be mortified. Like, I’d definitely be flattered, but mortified

Quackity shooting at the frickin fanart of them kissing I’m screaming

I STILL DONT UNDERSTAND WHY LUZU PAUSED IN THE MIDDLE OF THE LORE

WHY THE FRICK DID LUZU PULL UP FOOTBALL IM STILL  CONFUSED

oh my gosh he said “Thursday night football” in such a perfect American Football Announcer voice that just killed me

DO THEY WANT ME DEAD OR WHAT

But Luzu and Quackity are smart. I don’t think they’re going to be brainwashed like this for long. They’re too observant of the details, they can tell when something’s being withheld. And Quackity seems so suspicious, I really think he’s holding onto his instincts.

“Cerlus left because he lost the elections” LORD....

OH NO OSITO BIMBO THE BURGER

“It’s a brand not actually Osito Bimbo” GOOD SAVE

Oh my gosh I thought he ate the Osito Bimbo burger for a second, he swapped it for a cheeseburger at the last second THAT SCARED ME

WHY IS LUZU SHOOTING AT SAPO PETA

Luzu’s just listing off all the Karmaland boys he’s friends with pftt

OH??? Quackity is messaging Rubius???

I keep expecting to see Quackity splat on the ground he dies so often in Karmaland PFTT

“Maybe I don’t see you because I log on so early” PFTTT

Man Karmaland is GENUINELY so frickin pretty dude what the frick.

Quackity: Rubius says he’s on the moon Luzu: What Me: WHAT

Ok I read up on the Rubegetta lore that happened today what the FRICK. Talk about a frickin tonal shift. Rubegetta be like “ :D ! Shenanigans!” today meanwhile Luckity is HARDCORE angst

UHHHHHHHH

HE JUST SAW THE LUZU POSTER??? HUH UHH

OH THEY FOUND THE BEHEADED DUDE UHHHHHH

AND THE HENCHMEN ARE STILL THERE???

Imagine you’re living in a town that’s in the middle of a war and then the leaders of the two sides just wander into the market like “WHOA what’s all this???” wild

THE NAKED LUZU PHOTO NOOOO

“WHY DO YOU HAVE THIS” “I DON”T KNOW???”

LMFAO NOT QUACKITY ZOOMING IN ON THE ARTIST SIGNATURE, HE REALLY CALLED OUT THAT POOR ARTIST

“Quackity calm down. ....I look very sensual in that photo” IM DYING

QUACKITY I SWEAR DONT FRICKIN HIT ON RUBIUS’ DAUGHTER

This is so frickin wild I’m like. Still reeling

Meanwhile Rubius is frickin dying somewhere

The rising sun... oh I just realized Quackity no longer has the grey overlay. Things are brighter now. Luzu is outlined by the sun this time. :(

That’s way too intentional for it to be a mere coincidence

SAPO PETA... /vanish PFTT

OH NO AND QUACKITY MEETING UP WITH RUBIUS??

Lemme see what Luzu is  up to first

The colors in this are so beautiful. Even Luzu said “How beautiful” I LOVE HIM... He did SUCH a great job he’s such a fantastic actor. When he speaks, there’s such a kind light in his eye, but when he plays the evil version of his character, that light just Isn’t There it’s WILD!!! He’s such an incredible actor I’m so frickin impressed :’)

Alright back to Quackity....

Actually, if he remembers everyone BUT Luzu, will he still have the same motivation to trust Rubius? He remembers that they rely on each other now, but Quackity can’t remember why. How will that change their dynamic? The slowly blooming trust they’ve been developing?

Quackity: *banging on his front door* LET ME IN Rubius: Gimme a minute Quackity: ARE YOU HAVING SEX??? QUACKITY.........

Oh Sapo Peta is there DID HE TELL RUBIUS WHAT HE DID???? I GENUINELY DONT KNOW

YOOO SPACE SUIT RUBIUS did he actually go to the frickin moon what the frick

Quackity: Do you know someone named “Vlogs”? Rubius: ? No? Uh Oh

OH RUBIUS REALIZED HE WAS TALKING ABOUT LUZU OH NO

Oh man what will Rubius do? Will he immediately do something that will remind Quackity of the truth? Or will he say nothing?

FRICKK

Rubius: Don’t you hate Luzu? Quackity: ...Hate him? But I just met him? AGHHHHHHHHH

RUBIUS...

Rubius really do be the “gaslight gatekeep girlboss” of Karmaland. Man be like “lemme scam my bro outta some diamonds real quick”

I wonder if, on some level, Rubius is unwilling to remind Quackity fully because he knows how things will end if they remember the truth. Neither Luzu nor Quackity will be able to continue living if they try and carry out this revenge

IS RUBIUS REALLY ABOUT TO PULL A SWORD ON HIM OR IS HE JUST PLAYING

agh. the fact that he pulled out a pickaxe too. Quackity has a bad history with those

QUACKITY CALLED LUZU FOR HELP... HE JUST “met” HIM YET HE CALLED HIM FOR HELP....

Quackity blew on the horn and Rubius was like “What do you need help with??” PFTT GOSH I MISSED THEIR DUMB SHENANIGANS

LUZU RESPONDED....

The instincts they can’t seem to forget :((((

Rubius in full frickin netherite and Luzu in his Hot Evil Guy suit and tie PFTTT

RUBIUS CLAIMING TO BE HIS FIRST LADY NOT THIS AGAIN

RUBIUS???????

DID THIS GUY REALLY JUST SAY “Yeah you guys were a couple” KING...

Rubius: You don’t remember the wedding? Luzu and Quackity: WEDDING??? IM FRICKIN SCREAMING????

Luzu calling him Quacks I’m SOBBING

They’re just sitting on the couch together so casually while Rubius is making coffee TT _ TT

It’s like. It’s not even “domestic” it’s just insane

WHAT

RUBIUS JUST RANDOMLY SHOWING QUACKITY THE PHOTO OF COCHI AND BENI IN JAIL

chat frickin freaks out instantly LMAO same

Did they really just blame Vegetta for jailing his cousins AINT NO WAY

oh they’re ALL idiots my gosh

I love my stupid idiot sons

Rubius out here leading the idiot squad

THEYRE BREAKING INTO VEGETTA’S HOUSE TO LOOK FOR QUACKITY’S COUSINS AND THEIR FPS INSTANTLY TANK, PFTTT

LUZU ACCIDENTALLY KNOCKING HIM OFF VEGETTA”S HOUSE THEN INSTANTLY JUMPING AFTER HIM.... LORD

THAT’S... LOVE? IT”S SOMETHING

Gosh what a gorgeous flower garden they fell into. What the frick. How is every single thing in this series so frickin poetic

They just... casually walk by a propaganda poster like “Huh that’s weird”

GOSH I wish I understood Spanish

weeps..............................................

gosh this is so heartbreaking. They’re so different. Even erasing the anger didn’t return them to their previous selves. There’s too much hurt, too many scars on Quackity’s heart. Luzu seems fairly ok, but Quackity still seems suspicious and hurting

PFTTT He was gonna talk with Rubius but Rubius had already logged out so he just went BYEEEE and ended stream

AGH. MAN THAT WAS SO MUCH. I REALLY NEED SOME TIME TO DIGEST EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENED but as much as I normally despise “amnesia” as a trope, this is actually SO up my alley because it’s not total amnesia, it’s specific, and you KNOW it’s gonna backfire. It’s so cruel and yet intended to be kind, because the alternative would’ve been death for them. It was so cruel of Sapo Peta to do this, but he doesn’t want to see them get hurt. just. agh. This is so beautifully written, I’m so excited and anxious and scared to see how it will end

STOP!!!!!!!!!!!

#i talk #karmaland talk #[LOUD PROLONGED SCREAMING]

[pikawarrior]

Not really a ramble and definitely not a talk mainly just screaming (positive) that might accidentally make sense sometimes

The mess is under the cut, its basically all uppercase random ramble yelling that can possibly be pieced together to make some sense about the latest session. Read at your own risk. Also it makes less sense the more you read so be warned as well

Okay okay, ive only watched grian, etho, martyn and joel's pov so far but HOLY SHIT THINGS HAPPEN.

(Side note i love the art for martyn's thumbnails, along with the artist's other work (seriously i would be commissioning them rn if i could) and rip to the artist for having to suffer knowing top tier spoilers, like seriously how u survive that i would break after an hour. Also I SAW THE BIRD IN THE LATEST THUMBNAIL I SEE WHAT YOU WERE DOING SOBS)

THE CURSE CONTINUES, JOEL FOLLOWS JIMMY TO DEATH, DYING MER BLOCKS AWAY FROM WHERE JIMMY DIED, HE WAS FUCKING READY TO SACRIFICE HIMSELF TO BREAK THE CURSE, HE WENT OFF ON A RAMPAGE ONCE HE DIED, SKIZZ MY MAN IS DEAD, HE LET ETHO KILL HIM FOR TIME, HE HAD LESS THEN 30MINS LEFT AND GAVE THAT TIME AWAY FOR A FRIEND, HE LOVELY GAVE HIS STUFF THEN HIS TIME AWAY TO HIS FRIENDS TO LET THEM CONTINUE JUST A BIT LONGER, TIES GOT GROUP KILLED LIKE TWICE, TNT MINECARTS ARE NOW MY MOST FAVORITE ITEM AND IM GLAD MY PC IS CURRENTLY OUT OF COMMISSION CUZ I WOULD CAUSE A BLOOD BATH ON RANDOM SERVERS AGAIN, GRIAN GIVING JOEL SOME OF HIS TIME STOPPING HIM FROM KILLING SCAR ONLY FOR JOEL TO LOSE SAID TIME, GRIAN POPPING OFF AND GAINING MORE THEN HE STARTED THE SESSION WITH, JOELS LAST WORDS THE SILENCE THAT FOLLOWED, THE KILLS THE DEATHS ALMOST EVERYONE GIVING THEIR TIME TO THEIR TEAMS, THE SELF SACRIFICE, THE FAILURES, JOEL AND GRIAN FALLING OFF THE DAMN LADDER SERIOUSLY THIS IS WHY YOU ADD FENCES PEOPLE, THE WATCHER LORE FROM MARTYN

I AM LOSING MY MIND RIGHT NOW, I DROPPED EVERYTHING TO WATCH WHEN I NOTICED EVERYONE POSTED. I SHOWED SO MUCH EMOTION, MORE THEN IVE SHOWED IN MONTHS SEEING THE FIRST MINECART KILL OF THE SESSION, THE SHOCK THE AMAZE OF EVERYTHING BROKE THE EMOTIONAL BARRIERS I MADE AND SHATTERED THEM. HOLY FUCKING SHIT THIS SESSION WAS WILD, I AM WATCHINF EVERYONES POV THATS HOW WILD THIS IS

No one talk to me about this till next session, i am not okay yet so okay. I fucking love this series. I am sobbing (positive)

#limited life #limited life smp #life series #reaperspeaks #i am sobbing rn like oh my gods #i havent had this strong of an outward emotional reactuon for a series of any kind in months #this is amazing but curse this series for making me genuinely cry a bit watching the bread boy die

[technobladehd]

i love him so much slash parasocial i really really really hope his treatmentn goes well thats all we can hope for :’)

#/venting in tags sorry!! #i was so happy for a techno upload that i ignored the black thumbnail #worst mistake of my life! #mf better get well soon so i can go to vidcon next time and punch him in the fucking face for scaring me #he means the world to me i am literally falling apart rn!!! my fault for liking a content creator!!! #my bad!!!! #my rational brain thinks im so fucking dumb for sobbing over Technoblade a Minecraft player #but also i cant stop crying rn lolol #cant talk to anyone about it cuz theyll look at me like im crazy so thats out too #my mcc hype has gone 📉 #i dont even have anything to distract me since im on a gap year from school so ill just have techno on my mind #its so selfish to think like this too like!!! oh no u r sad that technoblade will die bc ur emotionally dependent on him so its about u now! #imagining what his family n his pals r feeling is a whole nother thing especially with how fuckign lighthearted he makes everything #i cant lose anyone else im so upset #i literally lost a family member this fucking morning lol bad timing techno!!! #the universe was fucked up for this one #not putting this in tags just in case it triggers anyone #krys talks

[sailors-diary-for-elise]

Reaching Out

SEE! SOMETHING OTHER THAN SMUT. Also this one is old and a bit dusty, sooooo warnings are gonna be to the best of my ability. ALSO. THIS IS ANGST AND HAS TRIGGERING THEMES. PLEASE SCROLL PAST IF THE WARNINGS ARE DISTRESSING TO YOU. I wrote this during a really difficult day and was just word vomiting tbh. I am also gonna state that this is a work of fiction and I am in no way a therapist or anything, so if something here bothers you I’m sorry this is just something I wrote mostly for myself.

Warnings: god this is painful but here we go. Reader is depressed and has anxiety, mentions of self-inflicted injuries (she punches a mirror...repeatedly-), blood, panic attacks, it takes a few of the members to restrain the reader so if you’re uncomfortable with that please don’t read this, this is honestly just a hard read imo so please read with care. Also, the reader hates herself and just doesn’t really think highly of herself at all sooooo yeah-

It was the fourth time this month. The fourth argument that could’ve and should’ve ended differently.

You’d come out of your room to find San off at practice or on some work related schedule, spend the entire day outside trying to break a horrible cycle in your mind, just to disappear again once he returned home. It was frustrating you both and causing a serious strain in your relationship.

On San’s side, he couldn’t understand why it was that you would fight against him trying to get you to come out of your room when you spent the entire day alone. Then there was his frustration when you would complain about never seeing him and yet would disappear and avoid him when he was available. To San, it didn’t make any sense. All he wanted to do was spend time with you and support you, but it seemed as though you were determined to shut him out. He watches you storm off to your bedroom, running a hand through his hair as he tries to recall the last time he’d come back from a schedule and had a nice quiet evening that didn’t end in you both screaming at each other. When he can’t, San grabs his jacket and walks out of the apartment with his phone and keys, planning on spending the night at the dorms so that you can have some space to cool off. Once he gets in his car, he quickly dials Hongjoong’s number, pulling out of the parking garage of your complex and letting out all of his frustrations and concerns. 

As he drove, San had no way of knowing how much you hated yourself for what was happening between you both.

What San didn’t know was that your depression and anxiety had been spiraling lately due to the pressure that had been placed on your shoulders from not only your work but from being the girlfriend of an idol that had become so famous. He didn’t know that every day you were terrified that, now that his future was so bright and secure, he’d no longer want you. That he’d leave you just like so many before had done, and that he’d realize you were no longer something of use to him. And finally, how you criticize every minute of your life, finding ways that you are failing even when you’ve done nothing but your best. It came to the point that waking up from dreams was physically painful, because you could control a dream and guarantee the people you love never turned their backs on you. San didn’t, or rather, couldn’t know this. Because to know this would mean you would have to tell him. And no one should have to bear this burden but you, and there was always that small part of you that was terrified of having your feelings invalidated. 

Your whole life people have toyed with you, accepting your depression only when it was convenient to them and berating you once the curtains fall. Some even went as far as to weaponize your emotions, tearing you down in an argument with something that was the equivalent to the beating heart in your chest. Yes they would apologize and you would eventually forgive them because people make mistakes. But the thing about words is that once they leave someone’s mouth, the damage is already done and there’s no amount of remorse or forgiveness that can repair it. That’s where you are now.

You slam the door shut, leaving all the lights in your room turned off, your head pounding after the screaming match you and San had just finished (rather, you ran out on and barricaded the door so he wouldn’t see you cry) and your face stained with tears. Not a sound left you as you curled up on the bed, biting your fist as a punishment for your body's betrayal of emotions. All it would take was one minute of silence and the entire apartment would be able to hear how you were feeling. In all honesty, you didn’t want San to see you cry. Because in your mind, you didn’t deserve to cry. You were the one who picked a fight. You're the one who made unfair accusations, using his career and passions as weapons against him. You were the one that hurt him in the same ways that had been done to you, falsely claiming that it was to “beat him to it and strike first.” 

The front door slams shut, and you work quickly. You unbarricade the door and peek out, making sure no one is there. Dashing across the living space, you reach the spare bedroom and lock the door, not seeing the need for such extreme measures as earlier. You then sit with your back to the door, listening for the sign of San’s safe return from the store. Your butt has just about gone numb when this occurs, the front door shutting softly alerting you instantly. You rise from your position, albeit a little slowly due to your cramped muscles, and shuffle to the bed. A knock sounds, and a decision has to be made.

“Y/N? I know you’re awake. Can you come to bed? You and I both know that neither of us can sleep alone anymore.” San mumbles through the door. You hear shuffling, and you hold your breath thinking he might unlock the door. You’re not sure though, whether you’re holding your breath in hope or fear. But all you hear is a thud, indicating San sitting down. “Look, we don’t have to talk. You don’t even need to look at me, it just feels better for both of us if I’m holding you through the night, because at the end of the day, we still love each other, right?” 

San’s cheeks are marked with tear streaks, eyes red and puffy as he waits for any sign of confirmation from you. He loves you more than anything else, so much so that he’d give up everything for you, and needed to hear that you still loved him as well. He holds his breath, hands covering his face while he waits for you to show him a sign that you’re even listening. That you’re even there. 

You tip-toe over to the door, gently crouching down in front of it and rest your fingertips lightly on the wood, near where his shoulder is supposed to be. It’s cold and unyielding, but this is the bravest you’ll ever be. You hear a sigh on the other side, almost as if he can sense your presence.

“You know, you don’t have to keep it all in. From the first moment I saw you, I knew that there was so much going on in your life that it’d take time to get you to trust me. And I still want that. I want to know what’s going on in your life again. I want to hold you as you're crying again. And I want to repay you for all the times you’ve helped me.” San whispers, his voice showing how much of a toll this has taken on him. “I know a lot has changed, I travel a lot, and it’s harder for us to go anywhere without me being recognized. But I promise you that my feelings for you, the amount of love I feel for you, it’s all still there. If anything, I love you even more now than before. I don’t want to lose you Y/N. I want to keep fighting for us and I just need you to reach out to me, show me you want this too. Open the door, even if it’s just a crack, and let me help heal those open wounds. Yes there will be scars and yes it will take time, but I’m willing to wait.”

At this point you have tears streaming down your face as you withdraw your hand. You don’t move though, despite your broken mind willing you to do so, you stay rooted in your spot. Sniffles break through the other side, showing how much San is hurting. You feel as though there’s a war going on inside of you, your heart begging you to open the door and stop this madness, but your mind resolute on keeping this wall up. 

“I. Can’t.” you croak out, bringing your trembling hand to your lips and nibbling your thumbnail as you rise slowly. “They were right, I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you.”

“What? Who told you that?” San questions, confusion swirling in his head as he struggles to better understand where this was coming from. Standing, San presses his hands to the door, trying to open it only to find it locked. “Love, talk to me.”

“All I’ve been doing is hurting you, and I’m sorry. ” You whimper, your mind screaming at you to shut-up and not give away anything while your heart, your very being, is begging to be set free and allow him back in. “I, I love you, San.” And with that you rise, walking towards the bathroom attached to the room. You close the door, locking it and turning to the mirror to see your disheveled state. Tears stain your cheeks, your eyes have bags under them, and your hair is greasy and a mess from the lack of effort on your part to take care of yourself. 

Thoughts swirl and distort your reflection, harsh words clouding your mind. Some of the words surface from your past, some are from deep within you stemming from your lack of forgiveness for yourself. You don’t deserve forgiveness or a second chance. You don’t deserve him caring for you. You’re toxic. You do nothing but hurt him. Toxic. Toxic. 

You start screaming, starting in your gut and ripping out through your mouth, scaring the shit out of San who begins pounding on the door. You hear him calling out to you, but it’s muffled in your head as you continue to sob and scream at your reflection, running your hands through your hair before tugging on it out of frustration. The longer you look at yourself, the worse the feeling in your gut gets as the harsh words continue to tear you apart, worsening with each passing moment. With one last scream you pull your arm back and punch the mirror, desperate to feel something other than the all consuming self-hatred. And it works.

There’s a crack on the mirror with droplets of blood in the center. You bring your trembling hand into view, noticing your knuckles slightly bloodied and cut. The pain replaces all of the noise in your head, if only for a moment, and you become entranced by it. Raising your fist again, you punch the mirror once, twice, three more times before stopping to look at your handy work. The crack has grown and your hand is bleeding steadily, a couple of pieces of glass stuck in your knuckles. You’re ashamed of what and who you’ve become and raise your fist again when the door breaks down.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!” San shouts, restraining your flailing and screaming form as tears stream down your face. Four pairs of hands are pulling you out of the bathroom, with San’s arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he pulls you on the bed. He immediately starts shushing you, whispering into your hair as he wraps his legs around you as well, restricting you so the others can clean you up and call an ambulance if need be. At this point though, he doesn’t need to as you’ve gone completely limp, sobbing into his neck loudly as the emotions you’ve kept hidden flood out in a wave that swallows you whole. “Shh baby, it’s okay. We’re here now and we’re not leaving you. I’ve got you, we’ve got you. It’s okay, it’s okay.” His voice is trembling, absolutely terrified by what he’s just experienced. It’s lucky that Hongjoong, Yunho, and Seonghwa arrived when they did or he might have been too late, having planned on coming to help San piece back together your relationship. It took Yunho and Seonghwa to break down the doors, and all four of them carried you out of the bathroom so you wouldn’t hurt yourself or them.

Soon, you run out of energy and are left whimpering and quivering in San’s hold, slowly coming to your senses as you hear running water, hushed murmurs, and the cabinet mirror (or what’s left of it) being opened in search of something. When the realization sets in that San, Hongjoong, Seonghwa, and Yunho have seen you at your worst, your chest tightens and your breathing becomes irregular which are the first signs of a panic attack. Something San was familiar with but hadn’t seen happen in some time.

“No no no no.” San repeats, noticing the changes in your behavior and looking towards the bathroom. “Hongjoong! It’s getting worse!”

Immediately, footsteps can be heard heading in your direction, and a gentle face appears in the corner of your eye. Hongjoong slowly reaches forward, grasping the hand that had begun curling in on itself to the point of almost drawing blood and pulling it away from your chest.

“Sweetie, grab my hand and squeeze that instead. You won’t hurt me, I swear.” Hongjoong whispers, slowly working his nimble fingers between your clenched ones. It comes as a surprise to him when, instead of resisting, your hand flies open into a rigid position. “Shh… it’s okay sweet-heart. How about this. Follow this.”

Your hand is placed on a firm and warm chest, a slight bump hitting your palm and drawing your attention to the pattern. It’s his heartbeat. Hongjoong’s pulse creates a rhythm in your head, distracting you from your fears and disdain towards yourself momentarily while Seonghwa and Yunho both return to the room, one holding medical supplies and the other holding a bowl with warm water and a towel. Crouching in front of you, Seonghwa notices the hand on Hongjoong’s chest is the one that’s injured, glancing at San who is fighting back tears as he strokes your hair.

“Y/n-ah. We have to clean your hand. Put your hand on San’s chest, follow his heartbeat.” Seonghwa says in a firm yet kind tone. At this point, you’ve lost almost all self-awareness, too exhausted to fight anyone as you nod partially, removing your hand from Hongjoong’s chest to place on San’s. “No sweetie. The other hand.” Seonghwa instructs, a heartbroken smile crossing his face at the sight of you behaving like a toddler who skipped their nap. You look confused, bringing your hand to your face to inspect it, finding the streaks of blood and bits of glass as a few tears trickle down your face. 

You’re not sure how long it takes for Seonghwa to properly clean your hands, or when you got changed into one of San’s shirts that fits like a dress, but as you’re lied down on the bed with San, who’s watching you intently to make sure any slight changes on your face are caught immediately, you find yourself in an almost numbed mind-frame. Too exhausted and confused to comprehend anything around you. 

Your eyes slowly close, the occasional tear slipping out only to be swiped gently away by San. San, the last thing you see before you fall into a dreamless sleep. And you are blissfully unaware of what’s to come in the morning.

As you snore softly in San’s grasp, your chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, Yunho leaves the room to clean up the mess that has been left behind with Seonghwa following closely behind, most likely to comfort the younger boy. Hongjoong reaches forward to brush hair out your eyes and slowly strokes your cheek. Who knew such a small body could take this much pain? he wonders to himself, not even beginning to understand what caused you to struggle so much and break down so devastatingly. And that’s the only way to describe your attack. Devastating.

Like a tsunami, you receded from social outings and even your true love San, and once they realized what was happening and why you’d “changed” the wave had already hit. But his main question was voiced by San.

“Hyung.” San rasps out, looking up at Hongjoong with tears streaming down his face. “Why-or how did this happen? What caused this? What are we-what am I supposed to do?” 

San’s breathing becomes labored, almost as if the weight of the situation has sat fully on his chest. He chokes on a sob, looking at you in your angelic state while pressing a gentle and wet kiss to the top of your head while crying. He clutches you to his chest, rocking slightly and burying his face in your head. Hongjoong panics, thinking he’ll wake you but settles once realizing how exhausted you must be. “Why would she keep this from me?”

“San-ah, I honestly don’t have the answer to that.” Hongjoong mumbles, holding his own tears back with a few deep breaths before looking at the pair of you. He honestly considered Ateez his family, and you became his little sister that he felt he needed to protect from the world. If only he’d realized sooner how much damage the world had already done to you. “But I do know one thing. Now more than ever, she needs us.”

San looks at his hyung and leader, absolutely wrecked from the storm of emotions that flowed between you two. “How?” he croaks out.

“I’m not sure. But what I do know is that the storm hasn’t gone and that this is only the beginning of our journey.” Hongjoong places a hand on your cheek and his other on San’s hand, squeezing slightly in hopes of reassuring the younger boy. “I see how much you need her San. And how much she needs you. She’s scared San. More so than any of us right now. Which is why we have to stay with her no matter what. No matter what she might say or do to scare us off, we have to fight through it all and show her we are here for her. Because if we don’t.” Hongjoong’s voice cracks, revealing his true emotions and the toll this whole ordeal has taken on him. “We might lose her forever.”

San sits quietly, shaking slightly from the silent tears that are being shed and pulling you closer to his chest if that was even possible, crying himself into a slumber much like you did moments prior. Hongjoong rises, tucking both of you in like he would an upset child, and walking into the bathroom. The scene that awaits him is what finally breaks his own dam of tears, collapsing next to Seonghwa and Yunho who are both crouched down. They’ve hunched over, scrubbing the white tiles of your blood and throwing glass shards away in a paper bag. Upon noticing Hongjoong, Yunho drops what’s in his hands, embracing his leader and best friend. His tears fall as well, the sight of someone as strong as Hongjoong breaking down terrifying him. 

Seonghwa wipes the few stray tears before rising, quickly finishing the task of cleaning before ushering the two broken boys out of the room. He sits Hongjoon and Yunho down, pulling out a paper and pen and titling it “Y/n’s Healing.”

“We’ll make a plan, and take this journey one step at a time. Until Y/n’s finally healed.” Seonghwa states, immediately writing steps and plans he’s already come up with in his head. And so the journey begins.

#ateez angst #san angst #choi san angst #san x reader #hongjoong angst #kim hongjoong angst #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa angst #park seonghwa angst #seonghwa x reader #yunho angst #jeong yunho angst #yunho x reader #ateez x reader #tw: depression #tw: self harm

[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​

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #captainsimagines #by Moni #ttag #part five #chapter five #captain america x reader #reader x steve rogers #steve rogers x you #marvel fanfiction #enemies to lovers #to topple #a giant #angst #mob fanfic #read the warnings #avengers x reader #mini-series #reader insert #Smut #trigger warnings listed

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

Small Time Witch (25)

You landed in the sand with a thud quickly standing to keep the upper hand. If you have learned anything about Loki you learned not to let him gain the high ground. He sat staring at you first confused but then glared at you like an animal watching its prey. You helped him to stand and dusted him off.

“You ok?” He shook his head. He was still muzzled. “I’m going to take this off but the cuffs stay on deal?” You freed him and stepped back out of his reach.

“Who are you?” His voice was low and probably would have been scary to someone else. You only heard how nervous he was.

“Your wife.” you said with more pep than you meant. “I’m your wife. Here.” You grabbed his hand so he could place it on your forehead to see. He pulled away backing up slowly.

“How did you know I can do that?”

“Because I’m your wife. We met two years ago...or five years from now. Time travel is weird. If you would just let me show you.”

“I would rather not. I don’t know what game you’re playing here but I want no part in it. Uncuff me, mortal.”

This was going nowhere. You placed you hands in his and held on tight so that he may feel how intensely you loved him. He allowed you to touch him. It washed over him like his love washed over you all those moths ago. Tears shimmered in his eyes as you let go.

What a miracle he thought. Someone on some planet in some timeline actually loves him. This is the first time he’s genuinely felt it since he was a boy. Here he was standing in front of a woman, a stranger who’s name he didn’t even know. This woman loved him. He felt like he was just skull dragged across the fires of Hel. He sat down on the sand and could only say, “Huh”.

He studied you and you let him. Most would feel uneasy with Loki looking at them this way. You welcomed it. Devour me, you wanted to scream. If he chose to beat you to death at this point you would let him.

You sat on the ground playing with your shoelaces when he finally came over to you and smacked his hand on your forehead. You showed him everything. The magic, the beginnings of your relationship, the house, the sex, the ceremony and the other part of the ceremony that ripped you two apart. Everything. He scrambled backwards tripping over himself and landed on his bottom. You reached over and undid the cuffs.

“Now do you believe me?” He wordlessly shook his head.

“Why didn’t you keep up your end of the bargain?” he whispered.

“You wouldn’t let me.”

You sat for a long time not speaking. His fear and confusion came off of him in waves. He had no idea how to talk to you. You couldn’t help but wish you could touch him. Your body longed for him. It was that longing that made him afraid. He didn’t ever show that amount of vulnerability to anyone. He wanted to get away from you to feel his own feelings but he also didn’t want to be apart. There was so much happening that he couldn’t accurately express what he needed to say. He didn’t have to.

It was starting to get dark. You didn’t know where you were or how long you’d been there. You had no food or water. Your stomach growled in response. Traitor.

“Loki, If you want to go....I didn’t really think this through. I’m sorry for feeling so loudly.”

“What is your name?”

“Y/n”

“Y/n I’m hungry. Are you hungry? You don’t have to tell me because I can feel that you are.”

He pulled out the tasseract and jumped to another planet. “This is Vanaheim. I’m welcomed here but I will have to limit my use of magic.”

“You’re fine I cloaked us. Not even Heimdall can see us.”

He perked up and relaxed a bit. “Look at you. Clever little witch. Whoever taught you how to do that?”

“You.”

His smile was wide and devastating. You flushed crimson. That’s his “I’m so turned on right now” smile. The smile he gave you when you both surprised and impressed him. Your heart was bursting.

His eyebrow quirked. He tilted his head slightly still smiling. “You want to kiss me right now.”

“No. I mean I do. I really do. I shouldn’t. It will mean so much to me and nothing to you. It would be too hurtful.”

He thought for a moment then leaned down to speak in your ear, “I guess you’ll have to make me fall in love with you then, Pet.”

Your body went warm all over and you needed a moment to catch your breath. You had to steel yourself against this Loki. He was cunning and quick just like your Loki. But this Loki was like a wounded animal. He was bound to lash out at any moment. He would tell you what you wanted to hear and use you only to toss you aside without care. This Loki had nothing left to lose. He was dangerous.

He saw no sense in trying to play it cool. You knew his nerves were on high alert. You weren’t sure if you should reach out to him to calm him down. You supposed he was in full on survival mode so that may not do him any good.

You slipped into a pub to grab some food. The woman behind the bar stood up straight and rounded her shoulders. She was stunning. Her eyes were a piercing violet and they told a million stories. Her full lips grinned like the cat that ate the canary. It was evident he knew her by the way he smiled back.

“You are either brave or highly stupid to show your face, Loki Odinson. Are you so confident that I won’t alert your brother that you’re here? Rumor has it Thor is searching the all the nine for you.”

He glanced back at you, “I have an insurance policy. Josefine, this is Y/N of Midgard.”

She let out a hearty laugh end slapped the counter causing you to jump. “And you’re certain Odin will let you walk free over this little mortal?! My my, Loki. You do have a death wish.” You opened your mouth to defend yourself but he stopped you.

“She is actually a witch and a powerful one at that. Show her, mortal.”

You were indignant and wanted to show her something good that wouldn’t get you noticed. You held out your hand and she regarded it with disgust. She placed her hand in yours and, when you closed your fingers, you temporarily blinded her and made her scream in pain. So much for not getting noticed. The whole pub fell into silence. You let her go leaving her a breathless mess.

“So you need a room then?” she chuckled still clutching her chest.

“And something to eat. We are famished.”

You ate in silence save for the warning about the mead being much stronger than what you might be used to on Midgard.

“If it’s anything like what comes out of your father’s vault, I will have to drink slow.”

“So you’re close to Thor then?”

“Well yeah. So were you. I know it may not feel possible right now but the two of you mended things. You died saving him.”

He snorted and looked away, “Now I am sure you lie.”

“I’m not lying. He’s the one who concocted this plan to help you escape. We didn’t really think what would happen afterwards though. I guess he thought I would bring you back to our time and we would carry on like normal.”

“Impulsive as ever I see.”

“More like desperate, Lok. You two only had each other. I don’t mean to spoil the future but even Heimdall was killed. Thor lost it. I lost it. He just wants you back. We both do. But, if I only get today, I consider today a gift.”

Neither of you spoke after that. You needed to plot your next move. He watched as you paced the floor biting your thumbnail. Millions of gears turned in your head. You played each scenario thinking about what could realistically happen if he didn’t go to Asgard. Would Jane die in the convergence if he wasn’t there to help? But maybe Asgard won’t be destroyed if Odin remains on the throne. You were a millisecond away from pulling your hair out when he said, “We’ll go to a seer in the morning. Come to bed, little mortal.” It was as if he heard what you were thinking.

There was only one bed in the room which you didn’t mind but you were worried he would. He stretched out on the bed without a single thought for your comfort. His eyes were slipping closed when you carefully lifted the covers.

You turned your backs to each other and closed your eyes. He could hear your soft sobbing and wanted nothing more than to hold you. He was unsure if his feelings were his own or yours. He nudged closer to you and a shiver ran up your spine. You felt the warmth from his skin envelop you.

Your feelings completely consumed him. Need and anguish smothered him in a dank cloud. It was heavy. He was facing down a crossroads here. He could ask for another room and be alone with his own feelings or he could roll over and give you what you craved. He placed a foot out of the bed and it felt like he was ripping apart. He had to touch you.

With a trembling hand he reached out to touch your shoulder. When you didn’t recoil he pressed his body against yours. Your skin smelled of flowers and alters and something warm and familiar that he couldn’t place. He thought of a million things to say but nothing that would be enough to punctuate this moment properly.

Your voice broke the deafening silence of the room, “I’m sorry. You don’t have to do this.”

His heart broke. “I want to.”

You slept clutching each other like baby birds in a nest made of soft blankets. Awake, you had been afraid to touch each other at all. Asleep, you looked as though the world would end if you let go.

#loki laufeyson #loki x reader #marvel #marvel witches #mcu x reader #loki angst #thor movies #thor mcu #loki mcu

[buck-nialled]

A Kick in the Balls (1) - S. Mendes Imagine

Throughout the years that you and Shawn have been together, and even before then, had he only seen you lose your composure a minimal amount of times. He remembers the night that you had spilled coffee all over your Chemistry notes, a class which you had struggled with all year and had a final on the following day. Shawn sat across from you and watched your face fall almost seconds after the dark roast drowned your lifeline to getting a passing grade in the class. Luckily, Shawn’s remained dry and his handwriting was legible enough for you to get a high C the next day. Another time, he barreled to your crouched figure in your bedroom, sobbing like a mother mourning over her favorite child. After crying into Shawn’s chest until your eyes were sore and throbbing, you managed to murmur out the death of your family pet. Even when your tears dried, and your lip halted its trembling, Shawn kept holding you. You were more shocked than saddened after being stood up by Kole Newman until Shawn bustled into the diner and swept you off your feet.

But the state of you he had stumbled upon, Friday night in your living room, he was not prepared for.

Your fingers were tremulous as you furiously tapped the keypad on your phone screen. You kept bouncing your leg up and down so much Shawn was afraid it might fall off by the end of the night.

“Hey, honey…you okay?” You hold a finger up to him, using your other hand to bring the phone off to your ear. The finger comes down and is used as another activity to occupy your racing thoughts. The thumbnail rests between your teeth as the rings continue throughout the phone. On the second ring, even quicker than the last call did your sister’s voicemail interrupt the call. You only sigh in agitation and hang up, tossing the phone aside. Your arms came up to shield your face as you shook your head.

“Alright…what happened?” Shawn tries questioning again, taking a seat beside you on the couch.  Your eyes shifted and you bit your lip as your eyes glossed over, a telltale sign that the dam of tears was about to combust.

“I-I’m the worst sister ever.” You begin, looking towards Shawn. “Y/S/N was supposed to go on a date tonight with this boy in her grade. I’ve met him a couple of times and he seemed like bad news but Y/S/N likes him a lot. I didn’t think they’d even get past friends but when she told me they were going out tonight…I just…I lost it.” You shrugged, now bringing your bouncing leg up to your chest, along with the other. “I tried telling her he was no good for her, that he’s just going to hurt her…but she didn’t listen and just bolted. I don’t know where she went and now I’m scared. I tried texting her and calling, leaving messages. I was about to leave and go look for her but then you came.” You turn to look at Shawn, a few tears now cascading down your cheeks. Shawn reaches up and wipes them away almost immediately, shaking his head while he does so.

“You’re not a bad sister. I’m sure you had a reason for blowing up as you did. What’s the guy’s name?” “Taylor Newman.” You answer with a sniff. Shawn’s eyebrows furrow at that name.

“Newman…like—”

“Kole Newman…yeah. It’s his little brother.” You confirm lips a straight line. “But…that’s no excuse to disapprove of him. I mean, maybe he is a good kid and I’m just holding grudges. But when I first met him, something seemed off before he even introduced himself.” Shawn nods. “I don’t know anymore but I need to go find her before my parents get home or else, they’re going to kill me.” You stand up from the couch and slide a pair of sandals on, preparing to walk out the door. But Shawn’s large hand holding your shoulder puts your steps to a halt.

“No, stop. You’re distressed. I’ll go look for her. If she walked, she couldn’t have gone that far. You stay put and if your parents come home and ask, say she’s with Aaliyah at our house doing girl stuff or whatever.”

“Shawn—”

“Y/N, I got this. Promise. And if I find this kid he’ll walk away with a mean pummeling after talking to me.”

“Give him a kick in the balls for me?” Shawn nods, laying a small kiss on your hair, before rushing out of the door.

Fifteen minutes into Shawn’s walk, he stops beside a familiar diner and cannot help but let the corners of his mouth tilt upwards. He remembers the exact path he ran from his own house to retrieve your heartbroken self from the leather booth in the corner of the diner. His brown eyes gaze longingly into the window, seeing all of the patrons eating their fries and drinking their milkshakes in a jovial manner. His eyes still, though, as they come across a familiar face, alone and with a concerned face as her pupils scanned the room around her from the chair. Shawn released a large breath and felt his eyes soften. Without further hesitation, he sprints around to the other side of the building and pushes himself through the revolving door. An older waitress waddles up to Y/S/N, with a hint of a smile as Shawn watches from a distance. Despite her kind face, the woman’s pitiful tone of voice heavily outweighed the cheerful emotion she attempted to convey.

“Sweetie, are you—”

“Please, please don’t make me give up the table! I swear he’s almost here.” The desperate tone of voice Y/S/N began pleading withdrew the attention of a few customers seated nearby. Even by the door, Shawn could see her cheeks grow dark as Y/S/N begged to not leave. Shawn also took notice of the patrons around him, now whispering about how sad it was that the young girl was stood up, but also what an embarrassment it was to have dinner alone. It made a fit of fiery anger begin brewing deep within Shawn and could be seen in the continuous clenching of his jaw, and narrowing of his eyes, now a few shades darker than a few moments ago.

“Oh, no dear! You are fine to stay for a few more hours…I was just wondering if you needed anything. You have not ordered since you’ve sat down.” The woman replies, eyeing the young girl with worry. All that sat before her was a glass of water, still full to the brim.

“No, that’s fine. I’ll wait until he gets here, it should only be a few—”

“I’m here! I’m here! So sorry I am late!” Shawn’s legs briskly carry him over to the table, the same eyes that were on Y/S/N a few moments ago now rested on his frantic figure, who took a seat in front of a silent, wide-eyed Y/S/N.

“Oh, this is your…”

“Date, yep! Sure am! Traffic was a nightmare but I knew I couldn’t leave her just sitting here. Now, I’ll take the two glasses of the finest non-alcoholic drink your establishment carries.” Shawn answers with a smile to the woman, scribbling down Shawn’s odd order on her notepad.

“Coming right up.” The lady pivots and waddles her way back behind the kitchen’s doors.

“What are you doing here? Wait—don’t even answer that. Y/N sent you here to find me, didn’t she?”

“No…” Y/S/N lifted her brows. “She told me what happened, and I decided to come to find you myself.” Shawn corrects smugly, placing a hand on his chest.

“Unbelievable.” She mutters with a roll of her eyes as she fishes her phone out of her jean’s pocket and looks at the time, trying to ignore all of her sister’s unanswered messages. It reminds Shawn to pull out his phone and inform you that your sister was alive and well. Y/S/N continues, “I told her I’d be fine. Taylor’s just running a little late.” Shawn hums upon sending the message to you, before stuffing his phone back into his pocket.

“Really? And exactly how long have you been waiting before I found you?” Shawn bites his lip and raises his brows. Y/S/N’s eyes don’t dare to meet with his as she continues to fiddle with her phone.

“Doesn’t matter.” She mutters. But Shawn’s interrogative expression does not falter and she sighs, speaking even quieter. “An hour and a half.” Shawn could almost feel his eyes stretch from how wide he had opened them. Y/S/N finally glanced up to meet his eyes and scoffed at him. “Don’t give me that look. I’m telling you, he’s going to show up. And when he does, you’re going to feel like the stupid one.”

“Alright, we’ll wait. But until then…” His hand reaches over the table and snatches the phone away from Y/S/N’s grip.

“Dude, what the hell?”

“I’m going to show you how one of these should go,” Shawn says, motioning a finger between the two of them. “Rule one: don’t have your phone out.” He stuffs it away into the other pocket of his pants.

“Oh, goody…can't wait.” Your sister sighs as two chocolate milkshakes are sat on the table.

not finished reading? no worries, my masterlist is always here for you!

CLICK HERE FOR PART 2!

#shawn mendes x reader #shawnmendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawnmendesfanfic #shawnmendesfanfiction #shawnmendesfluff #shawnmendesblurb #shawnmendesimagine #shawn mendes oneshot #shawnmendessmut #shawnmendesangst #shawn mendes x y/n #shawn mendes x you #y/n #fluff #smut #angst #imagine #blurb #oneshot

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 251: Help I Love a Manga Too Much

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi answered the age-old question of “can the Todorokis ever be together for more than five minutes without lapsing into a daytime soap opera?” with a resounding “HAHAHAHA.” Fuyumi and Shouto sat down with Kacchan and Deku and told them all about their super-dead brother Touya, whose death -- and you’ll be shocked to hear this -- apparently had something to do with Endeavor. What exactly happened, though, we don’t actually know, because they didn’t tell us, because of course they didn’t. Anyway, so then Fuyu bid everyone farewell and they piled into the Endeavormobile and started to drive away. Except they didn’t get very far, because all of a sudden some guy was like “HEY ENDEAVOR I’VE KIDNAPPED YOUR SON, NATSUO” and Endeavor was like “!!!” and the guy was like “AND I’M GONNA KILL HIM, WHEEEE” and then the chapter ended. Anyway so we all agree this family is cursed, yes?

Today on BnHA: Ending, who really doesn’t have much depth to him beyond continuously screaming “SO ARE YOU GONNA KILL ME ENDEAVOR?? HUH?! COME ON AND DO IT! I FUCKING DARE YOU TO DO IT! COME ONNNNNNN”, keeps on doing that. After about three seconds, the Terror Trio gets bored of sitting around not kicking ass, so they explode out of the car to join in the action. Since they all have impeccable senses of narrative timing, they simultaneously choose this moment to figure out all that shit Endeavor was trying to teach them a few chapters ago, with the end result being that (1) Shouto uses Flashfire, (2) DEKU USES BLACKWHIP YESSSSS, and (3) Katsuki rockets himself at fucking lightspeed to save Natsuo in the nick of time. Then Endeavor wraps Natsu (and Katsuki lmao) in a big ol’ panicked dad hug, which fully destroys me, and the chapter ends! So that was pretty quick, actually, but it sure was intense!

lmao -- what?? -- are you --

ME, TALKING TO A FOREST WITCH: so you’re saying that once I peer into this cauldron, the spell will reveal the thing I love most?

WITCH: yeah basically

ME: [peers, sees this]

WITCH: ...

ME: ... I can explain

[wiping away tears] yep so anyways. that’s my son. that’s my boy. so handsome. and talented

anyways so I guess that answers the question of whether or not the kids are gonna get involved lol. the title presumably refers to the one week of winter break that they had, which was also their time limit to try and beat a villain before Endeavor. GEE I WONDER IF THEY WILL DO IT

so Ending, our friend from last week (who apparently isn’t the “Takami” guy he was monologuing about, so so much for that), says that even under the most extreme circumstances, heroes will never choose to kill someone. and god I am so tempted to say something snarky about real life law enforcement here. but you know what, I’m not even gonna go there because this is supposed to be my happy weekly manga reading time, and lord knows Horikoshi is good enough at fucking that up himself without me adding on to it

anyway, so Ending says that despite that principle, Endeavor chose to kill that Noumu at Fukuoka. so I guess he assumes this means Endeavor just doesn’t give any fucks nowadays and will just kill ANYONE, ANYTIME, WHENEVER! sound, logical deduction there! airtight fucking reasoning

anyway this guy actually sounds seriously depressed though, and yeah this is getting dark real fast you guys

a few people pointed out to me last week that this guy is manipulating the lines painted on the road, and that’s what his quirk is (and it was also pointed out to me that he shot himself up with something akin to Trigger before he got started, so presumably he’s hopped up on those quirk roids at the moment), and now that I know I can see it actually should have been really obvious lol. anyways so yeah, looks like he’s been busy. I’m sure the three buckos strapped into the back seat of this vehicle know when they’re beat, and will use this opportunity to just take a nap or something

honestly, I could have predicted this coming even without that thumbnail lmao

also is anyone else dying at Katsuki being all BOOM!! while Deku and Todo are just “BANG” further back by the car. just a slight difference in intensity, here. it’s subtle but you can spot it if you look real close

anyway if I were Ending, this right here would be the point where I said “OH SHIT” real loudly, and screamed and dropped Natsuo and turned and hightailed it out of there with my road stripes whipping out behind me in the wind like tin cans dangling from the back of a newlywed car

LMAO CHAUFFEUR ARMSTRONG IS ALL “YOU FORGOT THESE!” AND YEETING THEIR COSTUMES OUT AFTER THEM, AND FUCKING LOOK AT THIS SERIES OF PANELS OMG

Endeavor’s face is fucking SENDING ME, man, oh my god. the man has gone FULL SURPRISED PIKACHU, someone help me I can’t breathe dfklsk

AND WHAT ARE THEY SUPPOSED TO DO, CATCH THE BRIEFCASES AND THEN THEY’LL JUST MAGICALLY UNFOLD THEMSELVES OUT OVER THEM LIKE IN IRON MAN 2? actually, scratch that, that’s exactly what should happen. please do this. I promise I won’t even poke fun, I’ll just accept it unconditionally

LOL IT KEEPS GETTING BETTER HOLY SHIT

“911, what’s your emergency?” YES HELLO PLEASE HELP, I LOVE A MANGA TOO MUCH. “ma’am, that’s not a real emerg –”  NO, LISTEN, YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND

Kacchan doesn’t even look back, he just reaches his hand out and knows exactly what Deku is doing without looking, and trusts his aim to be perfect. I’m so fucking weak for this teamwork I fucking sighed in real life you guys, it’s unbelievable

I can’t tell if this is Deku using “Shouto” the hero name, or if it’s now “Shouto” as in his actual name lol. because he’ll keep on using “Kacchan” no matter what, in any and all circumstances, so we can’t even use that to try and gauge lol. but anyway I’m choosing to believe it’s “Shouto” the name because they’ve now graduated to the next level of friendship after that dinner, and after Fuyu clasped his hand in both of her own and was all “I want you to know that I approve of the two of you together with all of my heart” or whatever it was she said, but it was basically that. so anyways yeah after that they’re now on a first name basis. YOU HEAR THAT, SHOUTO?

and then, with these bottom three panels, I know this is supposed to be all “click/bzzz/whrrr/other high tech costume-changing sounds” and it’s supposed to be a near-instantaneous costume change, presumably while still in motion because THEY’RE JUST BADASS BITCHES LIKE THAT, but like. in reality I pictured them all instantly grinding to a halt, and unclicking the locks on the briefcases, and Kacchan just giving his a shake to spill all the contents out haphazardly on the ground, while meanwhile Shouto is much more fastidious and respectful, and kneels on the ground and opens his case with both hands, and Deku is hopping around on one foot trying to drag his gloves on with his teeth while putting on his metal shoe-thingies, and the entire time Ending and Endeavor are just staring at the three of them like, “.....”

so anyway that’s what I choose to believe is actually happening. lastly, you also need to understand that pretty much this entire time, I’ve had the Powerpuff Girls theme playing in my head AT FULL INTENSITY on repeat, including during the part where they stop for five minutes to suit up. so there’s that, too

moving on!

TODOROKI SHOUTO, AFTER STOPPING TO CLICK OPEN HIS BRIEFCASE, RUMMAGING AROUND FOR HIS SHOULDER GUARD THINGS, LOOPING THEM OVER HIS ARMS, PAUSING TO WIPE THE SWEAT OFF HIS FOREHEAD, AND THEN FINALLY STANDING BACK UP: Natsuo!

lmao so anyway, now Endeavor is fully engaged in the fight once again, and thinking that Ending is “A FOOL” for letting himself get temporarily distracted by the interns’ shenanigans. but like. is he, though? seeing as he’s flat-out admitted to you that he wants to lose this fight? because he wants to die? did you hear that part? like, ??

so now there are some very intense closeups of Endeavor’s eye, and Natsuo’s face, and Endeavor’s feet

intense

(ETA: actually in hindsight of the hug, I fucking love this, because this is the moment where, right after he psychs himself up and is all, “now’s my chance!”, he sees Natsuo’s face and he sees the fear in his eyes, and all of a sudden he’s frozen in place, terrified of making a wrong move when his son’s life is at stake.)

-- oh snap, look who’s getting beaten to the punch!

do you guys remember that season 3 anime filler where Deku somehow beats Iida in a race and everyone just accepts it like that could ever actually possibly happen, like...?? if he can’t even keep up with Kacchan and Shouto, I hardly think he could pose a challenge to the guy who’s basically the Usain Bolt of heroes. but it’s not like that still keeps me up at night or anything. anyway!

so Ending here is giving the Todorokis a run for their money in the drama department, which is really saying something

okay, but what exactly is he supposed to do, then? you’re saying he should focus on killing you to save his son? so what, just like try to fry you and hope he doesn’t also hit Natsu? it seems to me like he has the same chance of success here whether he aims for lethal or nonlethal. so idk but go off I guess dude

oh damn, but in the meantime it looks like Todo is having some sort of badass awakening moment

YESSSSS SHOUTO UNLEASH THE INFERNO

(ETA: so Shouto just burned off his entire uniform, yes? boy you’d better keep that fire going now for modesty’s sake until you figure something out sob.)

lol so anyway I just had a flashback to Shouto’s fight against Tetsu back in chapter 205, and I realized that if Ending really wants to fight someone who absolutely doesn’t give a fuck, and will straight up kill a bitch with his quirk if they test him, then HERE’S YOUR GUY LMAO

now Ending’s saying “because you took your time...” and I have no idea where this is going, but I’ll take this as confirmation that they really did take a time-out for five minutes to gear up

oh damn

friendly reminder that gravity in BnHA tends to follow normal rules, unlike in most shounen manga. but even so, I’m finding myself hard-pressed to be concerned considering Kacchan and Deku are on the job. you’re gonna have to do better than that Ending my dude

wow is he shoving Natsu right into oncoming traffic?!

where the fuck did all these fucking cars come from out of nowhere like this?? the highway was like empty two minutes ago, geez

anyways now we’re seeing another “condense it!” panel, and is this one Bakugou??

I mean it looks like his gauntlet there, and I’m pretty sure Shouto was wearing sneakers in the panel earlier, and those obviously aren’t Deku’s shoes, so...!

YEPPPPPPPP

listen you judgey forest witch, I don’t need to justify myself to you, okay?? just!! I LOVE HIM END OF STORY

(ETA: and hey can we also just stop for a second and talk about how insanely fucking fast that was, though?? and Kacchan was fast to begin with -- remember how quickly he saved Jirou during the joint training arc. anyway so he’s basically moving at teleportation speeds now, and I’m here for it, and also terrified that he’s going to blow his fucking arms off at some point because holy fuck though.

also, once again I would like to express my gratitude for Horikoshi for once again giving Katsuki the big rescue moment, rather than having him go immediately for the bad guy. this is such an important thing to show. he’s really giving his all towards this “saving people” thing and trying his hardest and I’m so proud.)

and now it’s Deku’s turn to get to work!

that guy gripping his steering wheel for dear life has the most perfect expression I’ve ever seen, like that’s exactly the face I would be making in that situation. this chapter has had so many great facial expressions overall. I feel spoiled

[LUNGES TOWARD THE SCREEN IN ANTICIPATION!!] MOTHERFUCKER, ARE WE ABOUT TO SEE SOME BLOOP ALL UP IN THESE PAGES!?! PLEASE!!!!?

I FUCKING CAN’T WITH THIS BUILDUP?? THIS IS PAGE ELEVEN OF THE CHAPTER, AND I JUST KNOW WE’RE ABOUT TO END IT WITH A TWO-PAGE SPREAD ON THE NEXT PAGE. THIS HYPE IS TOO MUCH, I’M GONNA LOSE IT

OH SNAP NO IT WAS JUST A SINGLE PAGE!!

THE TRIUMPHANT RETURN OF BLACKWHIP YESSSSSS

lmao Ending looks so fucking shocked at being completely taken apart by these three kids with basically no effort. and I see that ice creeping up around him. oh, son. you tried

and then the last page is -- oh

I mean, Deku and Shouto being complete badasses (ETA: and I so wasn’t kidding when I said that Shouto will straight up murder a bitch omg), but then

aaaaand there goes my heart. hey would it kill you to give me a heads up before you just go and STUFF IT FULL OF FEELS like that?? like

just. Endeavor just ran up and gathered him up in his arms, and he’s holding him with this desperation that we’ve never seen from him before, and just... wow. it’s completely disarming and I’m almost at a loss for a coherent response. meanwhile poor Katsuki nearly got wrapped up in it as well due to proximity, but it’s not like it’ll hurt him to see this moment up close. I still have another essay I’m working on for you, you little honey badger

(ETA: on closer inspection it seems like poor honey badger actually has been fully included in the hug lmao. and at first I was thinking it was just the proximity as I said above, but you know what? if some punk kid flew in out of nowhere and saved my child’s life, you can bet I’d be wrapping them up in a bear hug too. so maybe it’s just the dad emotions getting the better of him. either way Katsuki you just gotta put up with it!)

anyways don’t mind me, I’m just sitting here thinking about how Endeavor has already lost a child (and yes I know, but like I said last week, I genuinely believe it was a tragic accident. to me that makes infinitely more sense than all of the darker/more sinister explanations. but anyways we’ll see eventually), and his family has been in shambles for so long and he’s been estranged from all of them (for good reason), and I think he finally even is coming to terms with that, and the fact that it may always be this way for him because of what he’s done. but to then almost have a second child taken from him, right before his eyes, and knowing that once again it would have been his fault, was apparently more than he could handle

and then, just the fact that he reacted in this of all ways. by openly showing tenderness and emotion, without even thinking about it, because he was so shaken up by the whole thing. this from Todoroki Enji, the most stoic, impassive, closed-off motherfucker to ever walk the earth! like, even after he clearly established that he was on the redemption path, he still never showed this kind of vulnerability. we’ve had a window or two into his thoughts and reflections, so we know he’s been experiencing remorse, and we could see it also during some of the quieter moments like him thanking Fuyumi or kneeling at the shrine for Touya. but I will tell you that I never for a moment could have imagined a scene like this. and I know it’s probably going to make some people angry because they feel like he hasn’t “earned” it or whatever. but I’ll be fully honest, at this point I’m kind of over feeling like I have to put a disclaimer every week explaining that yes, I like the Endeavor redemption arc lol. just, yeah. I like it. and anyway, so this was feels all over the damn place. fuck

(ETA: and I feel it’s worth adding here that even though Endeavor didn’t do anything to save Natsuo himself directly, it’s his guidance that enabled those three padawans to reach the next level so quickly. so in a way he did save his son: by finally moving past his self-centered mentality and taking these three kids under his wing and helping them grow. this wasn’t a victory he could have pulled off alone. but because he finally learned to see past himself, they were able to win the day and save Natsu.)

anyway, so now that all this has happened, I’m curious as to whether this is the end of this little arc! if so it’s much shorter than I expected. though obviously their internship is going to continue even after they head back to school, so it’s not like the action is just gonna come screeching to a halt. but maybe we’ll take a little break after this to catch up with the rest of 1-A, and maybe follow up with All Might to see who the great-great-grandfather of One for All is, oh snap

AND MAYBE A CERTAIN SOMEONE CAN HIT US UP WITH HIS THOUGHTS AND REFLECTIONS ON WHAT HE LEARNED DURING THIS WINTER BREAK, AND WHETHER OR NOT HE TOOK AWAY ANYTHING FROM THIS THAT MIGHT STEER HIM A BIT MORE TOWARDS HIS NEW HERO NAME. THAT WOULD BE SPLENDID. JUST PUTTING THAT OUT THERE

and having said that, I don’t really have a clean way of ending this recap this week lol so just. uh. I liked it a lot, thank you, good night

#bnha 251 #endeavor #todoroki shouto #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #todoroki natsuo #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha #kacchan's day just keeps on getting more awkward #it's really something #first the dinner #then the drama #then the 'thanks for being shouto's friend' and he was RIGHT THERE but whatever #then the car #and then this. *hug*. omg #the single most undignified thing that has ever happened to him #and then when he finally elbows his way out of it gasping for breath #he turns to see todoroki shouto blinking at him in his goddamn birthday suit #free as the day god made him #anyways just end him now please

[riotwritesthings]

Kinktober 2019 Day 17

Masturbation | Collaring

SteveTony, E, 2.4k | AO3

once upon a time, @tcnystcnks mentioned something about Tony in Steve’s shirt and dogtags and nothing else. I am easily influenced. So here we are. This one’s for you, BB!

-

Steve’s dog tags feel heavy around his neck. They’re not, Tony even weighed them, just to be sure, and they weight no more no less than any other set of military issued dog tags. They still feel impossibly heavy though. They felt heavy when Steve first dropped in them into Tony’s open palm before leaving on a week long mission. They felt heavy the first four days that Tony carried them around in his pocket, and they felt especially heavy when he finally gave in and looped them around his neck, telling himself 'only three more days.'

The day that Steve is supposed to come back, Tony gets nothing done. He keeps getting distracted, finds himself staring into space and rubbing his thumb over the raised words on the dog tags, his thumbnail catching on the 'R'of Steve’s name. Halfway through the day, when he finds out Steve’s transport home has been delayed, Tony gives up on being productive and stomps off to his room to pout and mope. Which mostly means curling up in bed in one of Steve’s shirts despite the fact that it’s hilariously huge on him and twisting the chain around and around and around his neck, not at all watching whatever movie he ended up putting on for background noise.

Tony doesn’t have an alert set up for when Steve gets back to the tower, because that would be sad and obsessive and clingy, which Tony is not. Except he is, he is all of those things, they haven’t been apart this long since they started dating and Tony is losing his mind a little bit. Even when he has business meetings he actually has to go to in person, Tony just brings Steve with him, doesn’t want to spend a single day without Steve’s bright smile and warm eyes. But apparently SHIELD drew the line at letting Captain America’ s clingy boyfriend just tag along on some kind of super secret dark mission. Crazy.

When Tony’s Clingy Alarm goes off his first instinct is to run across the tower and literally fling himself at Steve the second he walks out of the elevator, but Natasha might actually follow through on that threat to turn a hose on them if she catches them making out in the common areas again. Plus, he would have to put on pants. And he’s kind of already half hard, after spending a good chunk of the day in bed wrapped up in Steve-smell, thinking of all the things they should do as soon as Steve gets home.

So Tony decides on a different tactic and kicks off his boxers, sprawls out in the center of the bed in just Steve’s shirt and Steve’s dog tags, palming at his cock and quickly bringing himself to full hardness. It takes barely any effort, it's been a full week and sue him, Tony is repressed, and just the thought that in a couple minutes he’ll have Steve’s hands on him again has him choking down a soft sound, rocking his hips up to shove his cock harder into his own fist.

Steve must have asked JARVIS where to find him, because not a minute later Steve pushes open the bedroom store with an excited, if confused, look on his face, like he’s trying to figure out why Tony hadn’t jumped him at the elevator. As soon as his eyes land on Tony he freezes, audibly sucking in a harsh breath as his eyes darken and his face flushes red.

“Oh my, I forgot you were coming home,” Tony says, all mock-surprised and trying to fight down his smirk, “how very embarrassing for me.”

“You-“ Steve starts and then stops, trying to look unimpressed but it’s not really working because his eyes keep dragging down Tony's body to watch his hand move slow and lazy over his cock.

Tony’s smirk widens as his hips jerk under the heavy weight of Steve’s gaze, bead of moisture gathering the tip of his cock. Steve makes another strangled sound, eyes flickering from Tony’s cock to he dog tags laying against his chest like he can’t decide which is hotter, and Tony has just enough time to laugh before Steve starts aggressively stripping out of all his clothes and throws himself onto the bed. Tony’s laughter gets cut off by Steve’s mouth crashing against his in a series of short, desperate kisses.

“You-“ Steve tries again, one big hand sliding up Tony's chest beneath the stolen shirt as he kisses and nips along Tony’s jaw, “You’re wearing them,” Steve breathes out, sounding overwhelmed and Tony feels his own face flush slightly.

“I missed you,” Tony says, like he’s confessing to some terrible secret, but oh it’ s so worth it for the way Steve pulls back just enough to smile at him, big and bright and enough to make Tony’s already racing heart lurch hard in his chest. “I missed you,” Tony says again, wraps both hands around the back of Steve’s neck and yanks him down close enough to kiss agin, arches up to grand his aching cook against Steve’s stomach. “C’mon, sweetheart, I need you."

“Then maybe you shouldn't have started without me,“ Steve says sweetly, hint of a smirk to his voice. Tony has just enough time to think ‘oh no, I’m in trouble’ before Steve is kissing him for real, deep and hungry and all Tony can do is focus on giving back as good as he gets. There’s really no way of knowing how long they spend just laying the er kissing, hands roaming, relearning every inch of each other like they’ve been apart for way longer than a week, until Tony’s lips tingle and his head is spinning.

Eventually Steve pulls away just enough to speak against Tony’s lips as he says “hold this for me.” Tony has enough time to open his eyes and wonder what the hell Steve is talking about, and then Steve is pressing the the dog tags between his lips. Tony bites down on them on instinct, a strangled groan escaping as his teeth click against the metal. Steve just smirks at him, small and wicked and Tony groans again, sound going high and pitiful at the end as Steve pulls further away. Turns out he doesn’t need to worry though, as Steve immediately starts shoving the oversized shirt up Tony’s chest and leaning down to bite at his stomach and hips, batting Tony's had out of the way to breathe out hot over Tony’s leaking cock, making it twitch.

Tony can't beg or plead or demand, not with the metal tags clenched between his teeth, can only make muffled desperate noises that have Steve’s smirk growing before he finally, finally takes the head of Tony’s cock between his lips. Tony jerks hard, a loud whine caught in his throat as Steve continues to take his goddamn time, sucking Tony down one inch at a time, strong hands holding Tony in place as he thrashes and clutches at the sheets.

No amount of pitiful noises or flailing limbs can convince Steve to hurry the hell up, and by the time Steve starts fingering him open Tony has been reduced to shaking and making soft, wet noises around the dog tags sit clenched between his teeth. Each new finger added has Tony shuddering, trying desperately to grind himself down against Steve’ s hand or thrust up into Steve’s hot, perfect mouth.

When Steve lets Tony ’s cock slip free of his lisp with a wet pop Tony can’t help the sound that bursts out of him, nearly a sob as he thumps his head back against he bed. Steve rests his forehead against Tony’s hip for a moment, his breathing ragged as well and that always makes Tony feel a little better, knowing Steve is going just as crazy as he is.

“Always open up so gorgeous for me,” Steve breathes out, low and rough, three fingers pressing deep inside Tony, stretching him open with the most amazing ache. “Thought about this the whole time I was gone,” Steve continues, lips brushing over the skin of Tony ’s hip, down over his thigh, “couldn’t wait to get home and get my hands on you again, feel you fall apart for me.”

Tony’s mouth falls open on a loud cry as Steve’s fingers slink into him hard, jabbing ruthlessly at his prostate until Tony’s vision goes a little sideways. “Steve, honey, please,” Tony, finally, finally begs, dog tags falling down against his throat with a soft clink that's mostly drowned out by Tony’ s next loud moan. “Please,” Tony starts, then gets cut off when the room abruptly spins. Tony blinks in confusion for a second as he suddenly finds himself face down in the sheets, then groans again as Steve tugs him up to his hand an knees, the perfect amount of rough.

“Impatient,” Steve chides, like he’s not equally breathless, like Tony hadn’t seen the dark flush on his face. He pushes the shirt up Tony’s back, big hand spread wide over the dip of his spine and Tony whines. He rocks back against Steve’s hips presses up snug to his ass, Steve’s cock already slicked up and sliding against his twitching, empty hole, and every time he moves the dog tags still hanging around Tony’s neck shift and clink together.

Tony whines again when Steve doesn’t do anything else, just settles his hands on Tony ’s hips and lets Tony writhe against him. “C’mon, Steve, it’s been too long for you to be teasing me like this, you- Ah!” Tony cuts off with a loud moan as Steve shifts and the next time Tony rocks back the head of Steve’s thick cock catches on his rim, starts pressing into him. “Fuck, fuck, oh my god-“ Tony gasps out as he starts pressing himself back harder on every roll of his hips, taking Steve in further, working himself down onto Steve’s cock until his hips are pressed tight to Tony’s ass again. “God, Steve- ohhh fuck-“ Tony groans, letting his head hanging down between his shaking arms and taking deep gasping breaths as he tries to adjust to the stretch, hips still twitching restlessly, shifting Steve’s cock inside him.

“So fucking tight, Tony- damn you feel so good,” Steve groans, and Tony whimpers because Steve doesn’t actually swear that often, and when he does it’s usually because he’s so worked up he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Tony is about to get so vigorously fucked, and for a second he cant breathe around the anticipation of it. Sure enough, with one more soft "fuck", Steve tightens his grip on Tony's hips, pulls out slowly, and then slams back into him hard.

Tony wails, spine arching sharply, locking his elbows to properly brace himself and shove himself back to meet Steve's next thrust. Tony loses himself to the rhythm of it, Steve's hips slapping against his ass, punching gasps and moans out of him every time Steve's cock splits him open again, pressing so deep inside him, the quiet clatter of the tags around his neck every time Tony jolts forward.

“Steve, Steve- fuck-“ Tony groans as Steve thrusts into him harder, nearly shoving Tony up the bed with every snap of his hips, until Tony's elbows give out and Tony finds himself face planting into the sheets, crying out again as it shifts the angle and Steve's next couple thrusts nail his prostate dead on. "Steve, Steve," Tony whines, like it's the only word he knows, clawing at the blankets as every perfect slide of Steve's cock inside him drags him closer to the edge, his stomach in burning knots.

One of Steve's hands leaves his hip, but Tony doesn't have the brainpower to wonder about it until Steve's fingers tangle in the chain of the dog tags, pulling it tight against Tony's neck. "Oh," Tony says quietly, the sound nearly punched out of him, and then groans loudly as Steve hauls him upright, still fucking into him with short, deep thrusts.

"How long have you actually been wearing these?" Steve asks, lips pressed to Tony's ear, shaking the chain a little so the tags rattle noisily. Tony just drops his head back against Steve's shoulder with a loud whine, because how is he supposed to form words when Steves cock is pounding relentlessly into his prostate. "Tell me," Steve demands and apparently the fact that he's breathless doesn't stop him from using his Commanding voice, his other hand sliding from Tony's hip to his stomach, fingers creeping towards Tony's cock almost tauntingly.

"Fuck," Tony moans, throwing one hand back blindly, grabbing at Steve's hip just for something to hold onto. "T- three days," Tony admits, voice nearly a wheeze, entire body tensing up and he's close, he's so close, thrashing and writhing in Steve's hold, tying in vain to shove himself back harder onto Steve's cock, trying to wiggle Steve's hand closer to his own throbbing cook.

Finally, finally, Steve's fingers close around Tony's cock and even as every muscle of Tony’s body clenches up hard, Steve tightens his hold on the chain around Tony's neck and quietly demands "are they heavy?"

Tony all out screams as he comes, orgasm wracking through him, entire body shaking so hard that Steve has to release the chain and clamp an arm over his chest to keep him in place. All Tony can do is whimper when Steve shoves forward, bares him down flat against the bed again, thrusting into Tony's trembling body, making him whimper weakly until Steve finally comes with a drawn out groan.

Tony huffs softly in protest when Steve sprawls out heavy half on top of him, but doesn't actually try to wiggle free as they lay there and slowly catch their breath.

"I missed you too," Steve says eventually, his mouth pressed to Tony's shoulder, voice lazy and blissed out.

Tony laughs softly, finally shifts enough that he can turn his head and grin at Steve. "Oh good, I was so worried," Tony says sarcastically and gets treated to Steve's sleepy laugh. Its one of Tony's all-time favorite Steve laughs. Tony is so busy smiling dopily that it takes him a second to notice the dog tags digging into his face, and even as he lifts his head to dig them free Tony feels a grin taking over his face. "So I'm keeping these, just for the record," he says seriously, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the raised words again.

"Good," Steve says, expression somewhere between fond and possessive. He reaches out and drags a thumb over Tony's throat, where Tony can already feel the little divots left by the balls of the chain digging in, then leans in to press a sweet kiss to Tony's lips. Good."

#kinktober2019 #stevetony #stony #superhusbands #fic #fanfic

[therainroguefanfiction]

⁂ Fall for Me, boy~ (Morisuke Yaku) [1-2]

Genre: Friendship, Comedy, Slice of Life ☁

Word Count: 3,210 ☁

Pairing: Reader x Yaku ☁

World: Haikyuu ☁

Author’s Note: If you enjoy a sassy, boss-ass-bitch Y/N, then boy are you in for a treat lol Honestly, I had so much fun writing this, I hope you guys enjoy it and give Yaku some much needed love! I’ll try and get part two finished soon~

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

“Please, Y/N?” Hinata clapped his hands above his head and bowed at the waist, eyes screwed shut as if that would somehow help his cause.

“Please!!” Noya and Tanaka chorused, following their underclassman’s example.

You sweatdropped, glancing at Suga for help, but he was clearly on their side, offering you a smile as he clapped his hands together in front of his chest. “Traitor,”

He chuckled in response. “Come on, Y/N, it’ll be fun. Don’t you want to support your favorite boys?”

Your eyes scanned Karasuno’s gym. Aside from the three idiots in front of you and Suga beside you, Kageyama and Asahi were practicing against Daichi and Tsuki, trying to get their sets in sync in case substitutions were needed. Ennoshita was near the back of the gym, throwing the ball toward Kinoshita and Narita, who were taking turns receiving it. Yamaguchi was, of course, watching Tsuki play even though he was supposed to be cleaning up the water he had spilled. And, like always, Suga was right. You didn’t care for volleyball in the slightest – you didn’t understand the game and it just felt boring to you, but the boys of Karasuno’s volleyball team had wormed their way into your heart like a parasite that meds just couldn’t get rid of.

Asahi caught your eye as he landed on the ground and he smiled softly before turning back to the game. With a defeated sigh, you turned back only for your eye to twitch at how close the three had gotten to you, their bright, hopeful expressions nearly blinding you. Suga tried to stifle his laughter by masking it as a cough.

“For fuck’s sake, fine!”

“Yes!” The three teens jumped at you, sending all four of you toppling over onto the hard, wooden floor, their weight knocking the breath from your lungs.

“Get offa me!”

“Not until you say you love us~!” Noya cooed, rubbing his cheek against yours like a cat.

Tanaka copied the action with your other cheek. “Yeah, it’ll make you feel better to admit it~!”

“Guys,” Suga looked down at the pile, panic in both his voice and expression. “You’re smothering Hinata!”

‘Gee, thanks for the concern,’

The orangette in question was being pinned beneath the two second-years, his face smooshed against your chest. Upon noticing this compromising position, they shot up and grabbed Hinata by the back of his jersey. His face was bright red, eyes completely white as his soul slowly seeped out from his parted lips.

“You pervert!” The two chorused.

“What did Y/N’s chest feel like?!” Noya demanded, steam coming from his flared nostrils.

“Was it soft? Warm??” Tanaka cried, a strip of pink crossing his face from ear to ear.

When Hinata didn’t respond, the two shook him violently. “Answer us!”

You rose up from the ground like a corpse from the grave, face covered in shadow as a black aura rose from your body. They noticed you at the last second, dropping their underclassman before bolting, you hot on their heels. “You idiots! I’m gonna feed you to the damn crows!!”

“W-We were just joking, Y/N!” Noya cried, dodging the ball Asahi had just spiked.

“Y-Yeah, why are you so violent – ah!!” Tanaka’s foot landed in the puddle, causing him to slip and land hard on his back, eyes replaced by swirls.

“Rest in peace, fallen brethren!” Noya sobbed dramatically as he ran past, carefully avoiding the puddle that Tanaka’s clothes were slowly absorbing.

“Noya, you little shit!” You growled, jumping forward and kicking him in the back with both of your feet, sending both of you to the ground. He tried to get away, but you wrestled him into submission before sitting on his back, effectively pinning the smaller male.

“Y/N!” Daichi scolded, using his dad voice to show he meant business. “The game with Nekoma is tomorrow and we can’t win if two of our best are injured!”

You scoffed, folding your arms over your chest. “They should have thought about that before -”

“Y/N,” His voice remained the same, but his expression morphed to one with malicious intent as his aura darkened, fingers digging into your shoulder. “Get off of our libero.”

Nervous sweat rolled down your cheek as you stood up with a huff, your hands in the pocket of your hoodie. “Che, I’m going home.”

“Y/N, wait.” Suga left Tanaka’s fallen form, jogging over to meet you in the doorway. He offered a soft smile, almost as if to say he wasn’t going to mess with you. “Either Asahi or I will come and pick you up in the morning.”

“I don’t need an escort, ya know. I can handle myself.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” he teased. “It’s our duty to protect the public from Karasuno’s menace.”

“Fair point,”

“Plus, you’re always late.”

“I’m not a morning person, don’t judge me.”

Suga continued to smile but put his hand on his hip as he took on an authoritative tone. “Go straight home and get plenty of rest!”

“Yes, mother hen.” You grinned before leaving the gym.

Unfortunately, life had other plans for you.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

Asahi offered a nervous smile as he approached the volleyball team, gathered outside of the camp home, chatting excitedly about the upcoming match against Nekoma high. Suga frowned when he noticed the taller boy’s expression. “Is everything alright, Asahi? Y/N didn’t give you any trouble, did they?”

“Ah, well…” He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing over his shoulder. The players leaned to their left to see around his tall frame. There were several moments of silence before Noya, Tanka, and Hinata started screaming bloody murder, clinging to each other for dear life.

“Z-Zombie!!!”

“It’s going to eat us!!”

“Everybody panic!”

Suga sweatdropped. “Um, Y/N, are you okay? You look…”

“Terrible?” Tsuki supplied, pushing his glasses up as Noya knocked into him.

You scowled, running a hand through your messy hair. “Will someone please shut up the golden idiots, please?”

“Enough, guys!” Daichi ordered, grabbing the second-years by the shoulder to stop their endless loop of running in circles around Hinata. “You’re disturbing the peace!”

Suga observed the bags under your eyes and frowned. “You didn’t listen to me, did you?”

“I did,” your protest was interrupted as you yawned, your jaw popping. He quirked a brow. “Don’t you look at me like that, Sugawara Koushi! I fully intended to go home, but -” Your eyes flickered to the others and you cleared your throat. “I ran into an… old friend and didn’t get home ’til late.”

Recognition flickered in his hazel eyes and he nodded, changing the subject. “We should get going,”

“Right,” Daichi nodded. “Let’s go!”

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

Nekoma was like a mirror image of Kurasuno, having their own idiotic Tanaka, terrifying Daichi, and soft boi Suga. Honestly, you were so tired that, for a minute, you thought your team had been cloned.

You stifled a yawn as you followed Noya into the gymnasium, Suga and the Suga clone behind you. Just as they passed through the door, Kiyoko walked by, making Tanaka and his clone rush through the door, shoving the two boys out of the way. While Suga clutched the doorframe to keep himself steady, the brown-haired boy wasn’t quite so lucky, losing his balance and reaching for the closest thing to him – the back of your hoodie.

You grunted when his body rammed into your back, sending you forward a couple of steps. Tanaka and his clone didn’t even notice. “Tanaka, you fuck!” The second-year froze, turning to look at you. “You are so damn lucky this guy is holding my hoodie.”

“Behave,” Daichi ordered as he entered the building, shooting both you and Tanaka a menacing look before turning to apologize to Nekoma’s captain.

The pressure on your back released as the boy steadied himself. “I’m sorry,”

You turned your body so you could see his face. “S’fine. You good?”

When his brown eyes met yours, he wondered if his heart was going to explode, his cheeks growing warm. He could honestly just sit and stare into your eyes for hours because, in his opinion, they were the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen.

You raised a brow, snapping your fingers in his face. “You hit your head or somethin’?”

He snapped out of it, face the shade of a cherry as he realized he had been staring. “N-No… I’m okay…”

With a shrug, you continued into the building, following the line of boys toward the court. Once the boys got changed into their uniforms, the introductions began and the captains shook hands, thanking each other for the chance to play. Being tired, you were only half paying attention to them, more interested in a loose piece of thread on your jeans, but then you realized it had gone oddly quiet.

You glanced up, seeing everyone staring at you expectantly. “The fuck ya’ll starin’ at?”

Daichi cleared his throat loudly, nearly choking on his spit as he moved to stand between you and the opposite team. “I’m so sorry, Y/N is just…”

“Special,” Tsuki quipped with a smirk, tapping his temple.

Since he was standing right by the bench you sat upon, you were able to easily reach forward and punch him in the spleen, making him groan and clutch at his middle. “I’ll show you special, you fuck.”

“Y/N!” Daichi hissed, smacking you in the head. “Behave, damn it!”

“Sorry, mom.”

He groaned heavily, turning toward the three coaches and Takeda. “I’m really sorry. They usually aren’t this bad, they just had a rough night.”

To his surprise, old coach Nekomata just laughed, his eyes shining. “I’m sure they did,”

Your eyes narrowed at him as his eyes met yours. ‘This bastard, he knows who I am… but how?’ Tearing your gaze away, you started to chew on your thumbnail – a nervous habit you had developed as a child. ‘Should I confront him about it? No, no, that’ll raise too many questions. I know! I’ll just ignore him like I do the rest of my problems!’

Ennoshita sweatdropped. “Biting your nails is really unhealthy, Y/N-san.”

You scoffed, giving him a blank look. “Please, with all of the shit that I do? It’s the least unhealthy.”

“That’s not something to be proud of…”

“Get warmed up!” Coach Ukai ordered, watching the team as they assembled in front of their captain. He moved to stand beside you, the back of his knees against the metal bench you sat on. He lowered his voice so no one else would hear him. “What do you think, Y/N?”

You leaned back, arms spread across the back of the bench as you peered at the other side of the court. “I think I don’t like that old bat very much. I don’t trust ’em.”

His eye twitched. “Not the coach, you idiot, the team.”

“Oh, right.” Your gaze shifted to the opposing team as they did their own set of warmups, catching the eye of Yaku, the brown-haired boy that had grabbed onto your hoodie. When he noticed your gaze, his head snapped away, cheeks bright red. Even distracted, he was able to switch stances quick enough to receive the ball barreling toward him. You hummed, “They’re stronger than we are currently. It won’t be easy for either side, but I doubt we’ll win this one.”

“Damn it,” he clenched his teeth, eyes narrowed at the two Nekoma coaches. “For once, I hope you’re wrong, Y/N.”

But both of you knew better. Your instincts were like a superpower, so advanced it was scary. When your gut told you something, it was never wrong, and Takeda was convinced that it’s some form of ESP, but you weren’t so sure. Every time he brings it up, you make sure to tell him to stop watching the Sci-Fi channel.

The match began and, at first, you focused only on Kurasuno, but as the battle moved further along, you found yourself watching Nekoma’s libero. Off court, he seemed shy and soft-spoken like Suga, but on the court, his eyes shined with surprising ferocity and he was damn good at his job. He wasn’t the only one, though. Nekoma as a whole was fairly impressive, working like cogs in a machine, centered around their setter. It was like art, no wasted movements.

As expected, Nekoma won both sets, but Kurasuno was far from done, demanding another game.

This continued for a while and you quickly grew bored, your eyes drooping as if begging for some rest. Seeing this, Ukai backhanded you across the forehead. “If you fall asleep, I’m leaving your ass here!”

You scowled at him, grumbling under your breath as you stood up, dodging the ball as you stepped behind your team to reach the door leading outside. It felt nice to leave the gym even though it was hot out – it was better than the humid gym filled with sweaty teenagers. There was a breeze, but it was so soft you barely felt it.

‘Man, these cicadas are annoying as fuck,’ you rubbed the back of your head and winced at the sore spot on your skull, a reminder of the fight you had gotten into last night. ‘What a pain,’ You followed the building around to the back, stepping through the glass door into a long, empty hallway. To the right was a narrow set of stairs which led up to a small landing, atop which were three vending machines. ‘Bingo,’

Your sneakers echoed off the metal as you climbed the stairs, feeling around in your pockets for your wallet. ‘Ah shit,’ The wallet in question was sitting at home, acting as a chew toy for your mischievous bastard of a cat. With an annoyed groan, you slid down to the metal floor, back pressed against the railing. Your eyes slid closed for what you thought was only a few minutes, but you ended up dozing off for a lot longer.

A hand rested gently on your shoulder, followed by a soothing voice. “Excuse me… Y/N-san?” Your eyes slid open, locking with brown shimmering with concern. “Are you alright?” Yaku questioned, trying to contain his blush as he held your gaze. Thankfully, you looked away, glaring at the drink machine.

“I forgot my wallet at home,”

He chuckled, setting his bag down beside him so he could pull out his own wallet before standing up. “Which one do you want?”

You sat up, crossing your legs. “Soda,”

With a nod, he inserted the bills into the machine, first buying your soda and then a sports drink for himself, but the second drink got stuck. A foot suddenly shot forward beside him, connecting with the machine and causing it to tilt backward, closing the small gap between it and the wall. The sports drink fell to the tray behind the soda.

“Stupid machines, they’re always getting stuck and takin’ your money.” You scowled, reaching down for the drinks. “Thanks,”

Yaku nodded, offering a smile as he accepted the bottle. “Consider it an apology for earlier,”

“Fair enough,” you started down the stairs, unscrewing the lid. Yaku followed you, but his foot got caught on a small piece of raised metal and with his stamina drained from the various games he had just played in, he couldn’t find the energy to right himself. His eyes shut, waiting for the impact, but instead of feeling the pain of the ground, he felt himself land against something warm and soft, a strong arm around his waist.

Upon hearing his fall, your instincts had taken over, bracing yourself so you could catch him without losing your balance. Yaku opened his eyes, feeling embarrassment spread throughout his body, but your gaze was focused on the open bottle of soda in your hand, held above your head.

You shook the bottle just a bit and grinned. “Didn’t spill a drop!”

“Y/N!” Suga’s voice echoed off the high ceiling as he called to you from down the hall.

“Here, Suga!” You called back before looking at the brunette. “You hurt?”

“I’m okay,” he breathed, carefully pulling himself away from you before the Karasuno setter could see you holding him. “Thank you… again.”

“There you are,” Suga finally made it to the end of the hall, hands on his hips as he entered mother hen mode. “You didn’t come back and we got worried! Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

“Uh,” you fumbled for the phone in your back pocket, pressing the power button multiple times but the screen stayed black. “Oh, it’s dead.”

“You didn’t charge it last night?”

“I forgot,”

“You’re a mess,”

“A hot mess, aye.” You smirked, raising the bottle to your lips. Yaku couldn’t help agreeing with that, but he certainly didn’t have the confidence to say that out loud.

Suga glanced at the silent male, taking note of his red cheeks and how his eyes seemed to be glued to the ground. With a sigh, he grabbed the back of your neck, forcing you to bow with him. You protested with a loud ‘hey!’, but he ignored you. “I’m very sorry if Y/N has caused you any distress.”

“I didn’t -”

“They mean no offense, I promise, they just don’t think before acting.”

“I’m right here, ya kn -”

“Please forgive them,”

“You’re doing too damn much!” You smacked his hand away with a scowl, straightening your back.

Yaku sweatdropped at the theatric scene, holding his hands up in front of him. “Ah, no, they didn’t do anything wrong.”

“That’s good to hear,” he beamed proudly. “Come on, both teams are waiting for us.”

The three of you headed down the hallway toward the front of the building, a comfortable silence settled over the group. Outside, the two teams were intermingling, chatting excitedly about their matches and offering words of challenge for the next time they met on the court.

Kurasuno watched as the opposing team climbed onto the bus that would take them to the train station. A thought suddenly popped into your head and you smirked, taking a step forward. “Hey, Yaku.”

The brunette paused just before stepping onto the bus, turning back to look at you with pink cheeks. Why did his name have to sound so damn wonderful on your lips? “Yes?”

“Y/N,” Daichi warned, knowing you were about to say something stupid.

As always, you ignored him, holding up the nearly empty bottle of soda in a mock toast as your lips twitched upward. “Don’t go fallin’ for no one else, understand?”

His cheeks burned at the implication of your words and both teams exploded, demanding to know what was going on between the two of you.

“How could you not tell us?!” Tanaka cried, attempting to grab your left arm but you dodged out of the way.

“Is that why you keep rejecting our love?!” cried Noya, who attempted the same with your right arm but you slammed the bottom of the bottle into his face.

“No, you idiot. He literally fell and I caught him.” You shrugged, turning to walk away from the group.

“We still have a chance!!” They chorused, high-fiving each other.

“Not even in your dreams, losers!” You called over your shoulder, snickering when they fell to the ground, dejected.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

▸ Part 2

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[apriorisea]

“I Signed Up For It All”

You x Jungkook

You get the phone call at 11:52pm. It’s about your cousin, the troubled one addicted to painkillers. Overdose. Not sure he’ll make it. Your mom is crying with you.    “No,” she says, sniffling, “Don’t worry, ok? Try not to worry. I just thought you should know. I’ll keep you updated. What time is it there?”    You glance at your watch, having a hard time reading the numbers through your tears. “Almost midnight. Mom--??”    “I know, sweetie,” she says, taking a deep breath. “I promise I’ll keep you updated.” She pauses. “Oh, that’s your aunt. I’ll text you. Try to get some sleep, okay?”    You give your word, but as soon as you hang up the phone, you feel the first sob creep up your throat, and you sink to the couch. Living literally across the world from your family didn’t usually get to you, but right now....You felt alone and scared. You bury your face in your hands and cry, wishing you were back home with your family, wishing you could do something to help.    Trying to get yourself together, you send a few texts: one to your siblings, one to your mom, a few to your favorite and closest cousins, and chew on your thumbnail while you wait for any answers. Your younger sister texts back immediately, obviously upset, and you feel the tears splash down your face again. After attempting to reassure her, you scan back through your other messages until you find Jungkook’s name. You open the conversation, but hesitate: the two of you had only been officially-dating for a week and a half. Things were still new, and, after all, he worked so hard, you felt guilty bothering him at this time of night.    MOM: Sounds like Jesse is the one that found him. Wasn’t a pretty scene.    Your stomach aches.    Hey, are you awake?    You sit back against the couch, still crying, not really expecting a reply and starting to feel silly for even trying. He’s going to decide I’m too high-maintenance, you think, trying to make light of the situation. But all you can think about is your cousin, your family, the “accident.” You press one hand to your mouth, shutting your eyes tight as more tears come.    JK: hi babygirl! i’m always awake for you ;)    JK: Is everything ok?    You wipe at your tears with the sleeve of your sweater and try to figure out what to say next. You really hadn’t expected him to answer you. Before you can decide, you feel your phone start buzzing with an incoming call. You hit ANSWER.    “Hey,” you say hoarsely, turning your head away from the phone to sniffle. “I’m sorry.”    “What’s wrong?” he asks immediately. “Are you okay?”    At his genuine concern, you lose it again, breaking down into tears. “No,” you manage between sobs. “My---my cousin.”    You can hear the sound of commotion on his end, but his voice is incredibly calm still. “Your cousin? What happened to your cousin?”    “He overdosed,” you cry. “They’re not sure--not sure he’s going to make it. I’m...I’m so sorry, Jungkook, I know it’s late, I just...I didn’t know...” You’re not even sure how you want to finish that phrase. “I’m just really worried and upset.”     “I know,” he says gently. “It’s okay, darling. When did this happen?”    “Just a little bit ago,” you say, feeling better hearing his voice. “My mom just called. I guess his little brother is the one that found him.” At this reminder, you remember how alone you are and cry even harder. “I don’t...I don’t know what to do? I can’t be there, and everyone’s really upset, and....my cousin could be dead,” you admit in a tiny voice. “He’s probably dead. Or, at best, brain dead. My cousin is probably dead and I am halfway across the world.”    He sounds strangely out of breath. “Try to think positively, okay? He’s going to be okay. Is this the first time something like this has happened?”    You take a deep, shaky breath through your nose. “I don’t.....I mean, probably not, but this was a really bad one. And I think---” The words get caught in your throat and you have to force them out. “I think it was ...intentional.”     “Oh, babygirl,” he says softly, and he sounds sort of distracted. “Okay. Take a deep breath, ok?”     You nod to yourself, following his instructions. You reach for something else to say, unsure of how he’s feeling about the whole situation. “Um....Were---were you asleep?” you ask, rubbing your nose on the edge of your sleeve. “I’m sorry I woke you up, I really am, I just needed...”    “Me,” he finishes for you, and then there’s a knock at your door.     You get to your feet. “Wait, are you---?” Through your door-cam, you can see him standing on your welcome mat: he’s wrapped in an oversized hoodie and sweats and wearing a baseball cap, but it’s definitely him. The tears bubble up again and you fumble to open the door.    He steps inside and closes the door behind him before reaching to take your face gently in his hands. “It’s all right, babygirl,” he says softly, brushing away a few of your tears with his thumbs. “I’m here.”    Your lip trembles and he makes a soft click with his tongue, releasing your face to pull you against him. You let him, burying your face in his chest and crying even harder.    “Shh, it’s okay.” He holds you as tight as possible, his hands extra-gentle on your back. “I’m here.” He leans his head against yours. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry.”    With his arms around you, you feel some of the ache start to ease away. After a while, you pull back, feeling embarrassed. “I’m s-sorry,” you say through a hiccup. “You didn’t have to come all the way over here right now, I know you’ve had a long day.”    He’s cradling your face in his hands again. “Don’t apologize,” he murmurs; the tips of his fingers are incredibly gentle on your face as he wipes your tears away. “Just take a deep breath for me, okay? I’m right here.”    He is. He’s here. You fall in love just a tiny bit more and take as deep a breath as you can. You’re rewarded with a small smile.    “There you go,” he says, his tone slightly relieved. He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. “You look exhausted.” He smooths the same strand back a few times, his other hand still resting on the side of your face. “Come on, let’s sit.” He slips his arm around your waist and guides you to the couch, helping you sit like you’re something precious. Still standing in front of you, he looks towards the kitchen. “Do you need some water?”    Every part of you is missing his warmth already, even though he’s still there, standing right in front of you. The wild, still-panicked part of you starts to worry that he’s going to leave, and you feel a few more tears bubble up. “I’m good, thank you.” You brush at your face, trying to steel yourself for his inevitable departure. “I’m sorry I bugged you so late, I was just...I’d just barely gotten the call from my mom and I was freaking out.”    “Please,” he says, meeting your eyes gently, “Please don’t apologize.” Without another thought, he sinks onto the couch next to you, his hand seeking yours automatically.    You feel your breath catch, the relief coursing through you at his touch.    “So what’s the latest news?” he asks, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand softly. “What happened? Talk to me.”    His invitation relieves some of the weight that’s been sitting over your chest. You’re dying to talk about it, dying to say out loud the millions of thoughts in your head, dying to have someone else to bounce ideas off and get feedback from. At his reminder, you look back at your phone: you scan through the messages, feeling a lot more panic and not getting a lot more information. “Nothing...n-nothing new,” you say, stumbling over your words as you read through your sister’s text. “I.....It...” You’re having a hard time finding the words. You look over at him in desperation, and feel your heart slow a little at the calm, patient look you find there.    “Start at the beginning,” he says slowly, pulling your conjoined hands onto his lap. “It’s okay, baby, just talk to me.”    You nod. Thank you. “My cousin has been struggling for a while,” you begin, staring at your hand in his. “I guess he went missing for a while today, and a bunch of people went looking for him...His little brother found him unresponsive in his room.” You feel the tears slip down your face again at the thought. “My mom called to tell me, but no one is sure what’s going to happen now. He’s...” Your breath catches, and you move to take your hand out of his so you can cover your face. He relinquishes your hand, but immediately wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. You let your hands drop, preferring to bury your face in his chest. “And I’m...I’m here.”    He presses his lips to the side of your head gently. “You feel bad because you’re so far away,” he summarizes, rubbing your shoulder. “You wish you could be with your family right now.”    You nod against him.    There’s a moment of quiet and then he wraps his other arm around you in a tight hug. “You’re not alone, darling,” he says quietly. “I know I’m not much,” he adds with a half-smile, “But I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.”    This only makes you cry a little harder, and he practically pulls you into his lap at this. You think of how long his day has been, how late it is, how early he probably has to get up tomorrow---I’m not going anywhere. You’re more grateful than you can say.    “I know you’re upset,” he says after a while, one hand stroking your hair, “But you’re going to make yourself sick, crying so much. What can I do?”     You shake your head and pull away from him, a little more calm now. “I’m really s--” He cuts you off with a look and you shake your head. “I mean...” You study his face for a moment, enjoying the feel of his hand on your hair. “Thank you,” you whisper.     “Always.” He’s serious, but he gives you a little smile that makes your heart flutter. “I am always going to be here, no matter the time or distance or whatever.” He gets a little self-conscious, but pushes through. “You’ve got me, babygirl. Don’t worry.”    You’ve finally stopped crying, feeling exhausted but better, and you know it’s mostly because of him. Without second-guessing yourself, you reach up to kiss his cheek. “I’m so lucky,” you say softly, smiling as you see the faint blush creeping over his face.     He hugs you a little closer and leans down to kiss you: just once, softly, chastely, sweetly. “Now,” he says, brushing the final tear from your face. “Let’s get your mind off this a little, yeah? Until we hear back from your family.” Readjusting, he grabs the TV remote and then places one of the thin couch pillows in his lap, gesturing for you to relax. When you’re lying with your head in his lap, he starts stroking your hair again. “Anything look good?” he asks, surfing the channels.    “Whatever,” you say softly, but you let your swollen eyes close at his presence and touch.    He notices. Bending down to kiss your temple, he says, “Sleep, baby: I’ll get you up if there’s any more news.”    You’re not actually that close to sleep, but his promise loosens the final ball of anxiety in your chest: no matter what happened, he would be there, you didn’t have to do it alone. You take a genuine deep breath and snuggle a little closer against him.      For the first half hour, every time your phone goes off, you grab it and hungrily read each message, hoping to get more information, but each time you’re disappointed. After the 9th false alarm, you feel a few more tears slip down your face.      “Here,” he says softly, and works the phone out of your hand. “I’ve got it.”     You nod and relax again, and without the distraction of your phone, you immediately feel the exhaustion creep over you. You vaguely wonder if you should be concerned about giving him such personal access to your life, unguarded---but then you feel him brush his fingers through your hair and you realize that you trust him more than almost anyone else in your life so far. You let your eyes drift shut.       It’s 1:32am when you feel him gently wake you up. “Hey darling,” he says softly. “It’s okay, just take a second,” he adds as you sit up sharply, feeling dizzy.      “What happened?” you ask hoarsely. “What---what time is it?”     He shows you the time and then tries to hand you the phone. “Your mom just texted you.”     You freeze, your eyes stuck on the phone. “What....what did she say?”     He hesitates, giving you another chance to decide whether you wanted to read it for yourself or not. When you don’t move, he sets the phone on the other side of him and reaches for your hands. Slowly, he begins, “Your cousin pulled through for now. She thinks he’s gotten over the worst part.”      A huge amount of anxiety lifts off your chest and you exhale explosively, gripping his hands tightly. “That’s....That’s great. And the brain---?”     “It’s going to take a little more time to figure that out,” he says gently, watching your face carefully. “The most important thing is that he’s still fighting.” He releases one of your hands and tucks some hair back behind your ear. “Breathe, baby, it’s good news.”     You nod, but now you feel the tears swallow you up for a different reason. Seeing this, he pulls you against him and lets you cry against his shoulder. “It is,” you blubber. “It’s great news, I’m just...I’m so sorry.” You sit up, wiping at your face fiercely. “You’re going to decide this is too much work,” you say self-consciously, trying to laugh. “You didn’t sign up for this when you asked me out, did you?”     “Yes, I did.” His answer is quick, steady, and sure. He fixes another strand of your hair, then lets his hand rest on the side of your face. He studies your expression for a moment. “I signed up for all of it. I’m here for all of it.” He meets your eyes pointedly. “For all of you.”     The blush explodes across your cheeks. “I’m so lucky to have you,” you admit, feeling your face grow even hotter.      He smiles, but simply leans in and kisses your cheek.     You’re glowing a little when he pulls away and to distract from it, you look for the time again. “It’s so late,” you say, sniffling one more time. “You probably need to get home, right? I’m sure you’ve got lots of stuff---”     “Nope, I’m good.” He sits forward and then gets to his feet. “But I do think it’s time for you to get some good rest. Come on,” he says, extending his hand. “Let’s get you ready for bed.”      You put your hand in his, and before you know it, he’s taken care of everything: he leads you to the bathroom and turns on the perfect temperature of warm water to wash your face, he waits while you change into comfortable pajamas, and as soon as you’re ready, he has a glass of water waiting for you and the covers turned down.      There’s a part of you that feels like you should be more self-conscious about the whole situation---but it’s getting drowned out by the rest of you that feels so at home with Jungkook, so comfortable, so peaceful. You’re also so unbelievably exhausted that it’s hard to think straight. “This is.....thank you,” you say, blinking slowly.      He comes to you, concerned by how tired you look and how pale your face is, and carefully wraps his arm around your waist. “Here,” he says, helping you to the bed. He tucks you in, pulls the blanket up over you, and then sits on the edge of the bed. “Do you need anything?” When you shake your head, he smiles and leans down to kiss your forehead. “Can I....” he hesitates. “Would you mind if I stayed with you tonight?”      Yes, please!! You take a small breath. “You really don’t have to. I know you’ve got stuff to do tomorrow....”     “That’s tomorrow,” he says calmly. “But right now, can I stay?”     You don’t trust your voice, so you nod.     “Okay. I plugged your phone in,” he says, gesturing towards your bedside table. “But your mom said unless something crucial happens, she’ll wait to contact you until tomorrow.” He caresses the side of your face. “So you can get some good rest tonight.” Getting to his feet, he pulls the plush armchair from the corner of the room next to the bed and settles in, reaching out to take your hand. “Just relax. I’m right here.” He smiles as your eyes flutter shut, and rubs his thumb against the back of your hand. “Just get some sleep, babygirl. Everything is going to be fine.”     Every time you wake up that night, groggy and panicked, he’s there. Even when he finally drifts off himself, he wakes up with you, completely selfless though he’s exhausted, too. At 4:58am, you’re startled awake by a nightmare that leaves you sobbing, and without hesitation, he climbs onto the bed next to you, wrapping you in his arms and holding you until the shaking he stops. You cling to the front of his sweatshirt, holding on for dear life until the residual terror eventually fades. He kisses your forehead repeatedly until you both drift off again.      Your alarm for work goes off at 7:30am and you twist to turn it off quickly, hoping not to disturb him, but when you roll back to face him, he’s awake, smiling faintly at you.      “Hi babygirl,” he says softly, reaching out to touch a strand of your hair. “You okay?”     You nod. The gratitude bubbles up and you say impulsively: “Thank you. Thank you for staying, thank you for...for everything.”      He leans forward and kisses your forehead. Lingering there, he adds against your skin, “Of course.” When he finally pulls away, he sits up and stretches, his hair standing up in wild directions.      “You need to go?”     He turns to look down at you, his expression uncertain. “I do...I need to be at work in an hour. But I’ll be back at lunch?”     You get up, too. “You don’t have to do that. You’re probably sick of me.”     A strange blush creeps over his face, and he shakes his head. “Not at all.” Almost like a distraction, he looks over at your phone. “Do you want to check for news?”     Your breath catches, but you nod. Reaching for your phone with one hand, you reach for him with the other, feeling immediately better when he interlocks his fingers with yours. It only takes a second to scan through your messages. You release the breath you’d been holding. “Nothing new. Which is probably good news?”     “Definitely good news,” he says, bringing your hand up to his lips. “Will you keep me updated today?”     “I will. Thank you, again, Jungkook. I...I don’t know how I can ever repay you for all of this.”     He rolls out of the bed and kisses your cheek again. “Don’t even think of it.”     While he takes a moment in the bathroom, you wander to the kitchen and peruse your breakfast options. Normally, you’d be overthinking every single little detail about the last 12 hours, but you’re so spent that you can barely focus on one thing at a time.       He appears in the kitchen, his hair tamed and his face freshly washed. He turns down your offer of breakfast, but willingly takes you into his arms for another hug. “If you need anything,” he says in your ear, “Call me. Text me. I’ll be here as soon I as can.”     “I know,” you laugh lightly. “I’ll never doubt that again after last night.”      He releases you a little. “That’s good.” He looks like he might say something else, but when it dies on his tongue, he just smiles down at you.       “I know you’ve got to go,” you say, and you wrap an arm around his waist to walk him to the door. “I don’t want to make you late.”      He shakes his head again as he puts on his shoes, and when he straightens, he puts his hand on the door handle but hesitates. Studying your face for a moment, he clears his throat and then says, “You know....I....I just want you to know....” Losing his nerve, he tries to turn away, shaking it off.       “Hey---” you catch his arm curiously. “What’s wrong?”      “Nothing. I just....I love you,” he says softly, his eyes locked on yours even though his face is on fire. “And I’m here for you, forever, and you never have to say thank you or anything else because I love you.”     There aren’t words to describe how much joy courses through you in that moment. Instead of thinking, you act on instinct, cradling his face in your hands and reaching up to kiss him. His hands snake around you automatically, and it’s a long time before you break apart.       “I know it might seem soon,” he adds nervously, his hand still on the small of your back. “And I don’t expect you to say it back right away, I just...I needed you to know.”      You’re smiling, absolutely giddy, and you shake your head quickly. “No, not at all, I just...I’m pretty sure I love you, too. I can’t imagine how I would’ve made it through last night without you here.” You brush some hair out of his face. “You’re amazing. Thank you.”      He kisses you again. “I have to go,” he says reluctantly, “But I swear I’ll see you later, okay?” Just before he slips out the door, he says again: “I love you, babygirl.”      You close the door behind him and sit in perfect, stunned, happy quiet. From down the hall, you hear your phone go off, and even though your initial reaction is panic, you think of him and his words, his promise, his solidarity, and you know, without a doubt, that you’re going to get through this. With him.      

#bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts clean imagines #bts #non-smut #bts fluffy imiagines #fluff #angst #bts imagine jungkook #jungkook #jk #i signed up for it all

[sauciesauce]

Dear @aphmau

It’s currently 3 AM. I just spent two full weeks of doing nothing but binge watching all of MCD AND MyStreet. My heart hurts. I’m feeling stupid nostalgic. And I haven’t cried as hard as I am crying in a hot minute.

Thank you, Jess. Thank you for being such an impactful part of my life. You’ve inspired me in more ways than one.

I’ve been a fan of your channel since I was 11, when for some odd reason a video about a woman playing this video game I kinda liked popped up in my recomended. Her kitty litter box exploded. I remember.

At the time I was so young and confused, I didn’t even think that subscribtions to channels were free, so every day after school I would rush to my family’s computer and refresh your page until the new episode came out.

I remember losing my shit when we heard the voices of these characters you created for the first time. I remember sobbing my brains out when Aaron died. I remember being so emotionally confused when the time jump happened. I remember wanting to kill Zane myself. I remember being so excited to see what you would do next.

After a while I... distanced myself. Part of me could tell that you were feeling the same way about the series, but the other part of me was just growing up and moving on. But I still showed my support.

I no longer watched it, but for my birthday I wanted an MCD poster SO badly. We were moving houses, and I wanted my blank walls to not feel so blank anymore. When I opened it on my birthday, all of the other boys scoffed at me. Minecraft was lame. And Minecraft roleplays were lamer.

I followed the trends of the Internet, and found myself becoming lost after quite some time. I wandered amongst bad skits and funny cat videos. But I always gravitated towards storytellers. No matter how far I drifted away, I always found myself coming back to your content.

I’d pop in every so often to watch mini games, and I showed tons of support to all of the VAs and their channels. As a growing actor, I know that even the slightest bit of support can mean the world.

But nothing really grabbed my attention until the thumbnail for “When Angels Fall.” I recognized that character. It was Irene, and I knew it. I rushed to it, but quickly realized I had no clue what was going on.

I backtracked. I couldn’t watch everything, but I watched what the fanwiki deemed as “important” and got caught up. I turned notifications on, so every time the series got updated I knew about it.

I don’t know how, but you and your team managed to bring me back to those times I remember. Those times before worrying about college and my upcoming reality that will settle in shortly after high school ends.

I am 16 years old now. And since Minecraft has once again blossomed in popularity, I can tell you I was enthusiastic to spend my summer free time rewatching Diaries and the entirety of the MyStreet series (PDH and FCU included). Not only that, but the day after I began rewatching it, the first episode of the revival was put out. It is beyond impressive that you and your wonderful team have come this far, and you should be so proud of the work you’ve done.

I just spent two weeks rewatching EVERYTHING. And I mean no sleep, no productivity levels of binging. I can confidently tell you that I wouldn’t want my summer to go any other way.

You’ve done something that a lot of people take for granted. You’ve taken something from YEARS ago... something that wasn’t meant to ever become anything... and turned it into a work of art. You’ve managed to create something that is authentically yours in every way, and I admire every bit of that.

Not only that, but you are ADDING to it!! You are creating new worlds!! You are putting more into this simple game about blocks than most put into their own lives!!!

I want to do what you do, Jess. I want to be a part of something that makes people feel the way your content makes me feel. I want to make them feel.

So as I sit in my room at 3:45 AM, tears streaming down my face, my Woof plush in arms, I’ll never be able to thank you enough. I’ll never be able to repay you for what you’ve inspired me to do. I don’t know how I’m gonna do it yet, but I’m going to find a way to create.

I edit videos for all of my friends who try to be “YouTube famous” to get practice in premiere. I draw digitally three times every week so I can improve. I act in my high school theatre program. I’m writing two full length novels. I wouldn’t be doing any of this if it wasn’t for you. These aren’t just my hobbies. These are my passions.

Thank you so much for helping me find them.

With much love,

Sawyer Reid

#aphmau #minecraft diaries #mystreet #thank you :')

[seasonofthegeek]

Just for Tonight: A Fairy and Her Vampire

I’ve wanted to write background stuff for Rose in the Just for Tonight universe for a while now so this feels like a good time to do it during Rose Appreciation Week. :)

1 Year before Just for Tonight

“What are you anyway?” 

The vampire’s voice was soft but Rose found herself so attuned to it, she was sure she could’ve heard it from any distance. “I’m a fairy.”

Juleka’s face screwed up in confusion. “A fairy? Those are real?”

“You soul-gazed me. Didn’t you see?” Rose tilted her head as she studied the other woman. She was pale but she’d always been pale, even as a child. Rose had seen that much in the glance of Juleka’s memories she’d gotten in the last few minutes when they’d touched for the first time.

Soul-gazes often occurred when soulmates first touched and each received what Rose could only think of as a summary reel of the life the other had led up to that point. She saw Juleka as a little girl running to keep up with her older brother. She’d seen Juleka grow and laugh and cry and change. She’d seen her lose both of her parents as she and her brother clung to each other. She’d felt the emptiness Juleka felt and what made her latch onto the idea of something permanent. She’d craved stability and thought she would find it with the vampires. She thought she and her brother would be accepted in and changed and finally belong. Part of that had happened at least.

She could no longer doubt Juleka was indeed her other half but her new existence did pose an issue. She was a vampire of all things and a fresh one at that. She would have no control over her urges, especially without a sire to guide her and while Marinette seemed very nice, she was obviously out of her depth. Rose couldn’t very well bring a vampire back to the Realm either. She’d be killed on the spot so that she could be reborn into something else; it’d been done before.

“I saw...” Juleka’s voice was still bordering on too quiet as if she wasn’t used to anyone listening when she spoke. “You looked different in what I saw. Pinker. And you had wings.” She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “That can’t be right.”

WIth a wry smile, Rose dropped her human glamor. Her rose-gold wings unfurled behind her and her skin transitioned to a decidedly pale pink that wasn’t natural to humans. “I try to blend in around here,” she shrugged. “This is my true form. Well, one of them anyway.”

“What’s that mean?”

“I can change my size when I need to and I’ve tapped into magics to change into animals before.”

“Like a shapeshifter?” The curiosity in Juleka’s question felt comfortable and inexplicably familiar and Rose felt herself relax. 

“Not exactly. It takes complex magic and doesn’t last for long. There are those who can do it easily though; I’m just not one of them.”

“Your wings are so pretty. Can I...” She visibly sank back in on herself.

“Can you touch them?” Rose prodded. “I don’t mind if you want to.”

Juleka pushed away from the headboard and crawled to the edge of the bed to get closer. There was a faint alarm bell in the back of Rose’s mind warning her to put distance between herself and the predator but there was also an overwhelming sense of certainty that her mate wouldn’t hurt her. It was an odd sensation when logically Rose knew she didn’t know Juleka from a stranger on the street but the feeling persisted nevertheless.

The vampire reached out with tentative fingers to graze them along the edge of the delicate-looking wings. “They’re firmer than I thought.”

“They’re pretty strong. They can carry me after all.” Rose flashed her a bright smile.

“You can fly?”

Rose was beginning to wonder exactly what Juleka saw during their soul-gaze. The thought struck her that Juleka’s viewing had surely been as intimate as the one Rose had been privy to, which meant she’d probably seen things more important than Rose flying and changing sizes. She watched Juleka’s face as she continued to explore the wings.

“What did you see?” Rose asked, trying to keep her tone even.

Juleka gave her a startled look. “When we...when we touched?” She swallowed hard. “Why did that happen? You called it a...” Her face screwed up in thought. “Something gaze.”

“A soul-gaze.” Rose had the itching temptation to lift her wing from the other woman’s gentle grasp but she resisted it. Her soft touch was reaching the edge of almost too stimulating. “It happens when soulmates touch, usually the first time, like with us.”

“Soulmates,” Juleka repeated as if testing the word. “You’re my...” She pursed her lips together. “Are you sure?”

“I am.” Rose felt her confidence faltering. She was sure that they were soulmates but what did that really mean? Some mates found each other and then parted. What had she expected from this interaction?”

“So you love me?”

Rose blinked in surprise. “What?”

Juleka ducked her head shyly and a curtain of brightly dyed hair swung in front of her eyes. “Nothing,” she murmured.

“What did you see?” Rose asked again. It suddenly felt very important that she know and she watched Juleka pull away again, scooting back towards the opposite end of the bed.

“I saw you and...your sister maybe? She looked like you but different.” Juleka gave her a quick glance and Rose nodded in confirmation. “She was blue.”

“Her name was Marigold.”

“You lost her. I recognized that feeling.” Juleka hugged herself. 

“She got herself mixed up with vampires and went missing.” Rose went very still and didn’t meet the other woman’s eyes. “I felt it when she died. It was excruciating. Her magic was drained and...” A golden, shimmering tear slid down her cheek and she let it continue its trek without interference. 

“Vampires aren’t good, are they?” Juleka chipped away at the fractured black polish on her thumbnail. “I think I knew that, but I wanted to believe. I needed...” A sob broke off her words and she hung her head. “And...and now Luka...” She brought her knees up and hugged them as she hid her face. “He’s dead, isn’t he? Like your sister.”

“I don’t know,” Rose admitted. “It’s possible.”

“He was...he was all I had.” Juleka began to shake as wracking sobs tore from her throat. 

Rose floundered, unsure of what she should do. She could leave and wait for her mate to be reborn. It was worth the chance. They couldn’t be together like this and Rose still had an eternity ahead of her in this form if she watched herself. She’d be patient and allow Juleka to go about what little life she could make as a vampire and once she’d expired, Rose would try to find her again in her next life. That was the way it needed to work. She knew that. The Fae weren’t to interact with vampires; they inflicted too much damage and upset the balance of things.

She could do it herself, here and now. She wouldn’t have to wait long then. She would know that at least Juleka’s soul would be starting over in a new body somewhere and when the time was right, they would meet again.

Rose gathered her courage and strength around her like a cloak and stood. She had powerful magic. Lethal magic was frowned upon but in this case, it would be forgiven. She was only doing what was right. She would make it quick and painless. Juleka didn’t want this life; she didn’t deserve it. She could be reborn as mostly a human again or maybe even one of the full Fae and everything would be as it should be.

Rose reached the side of the bed and felt the power for the deadly blow gathering in the palm of her hand when Juleka looked up at her with tear-filled eyes. And with only a second of hesitation, the vampire wrapped her arms around the fairy, carefully winding around the wings so as not to hurt them, and sobbed against her chest. Rose froze, the power to kill her dying immediately at Juleka’s touch. 

“Am I bad now?” she cried, the words cracking as they spilled from her lips. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Rose felt warmth and need and the desire to protect. She hugged Juleka to her and the other woman melted into her as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Rose searched for the feeling of vampire, the feeling of danger that had been there before, but it was gone. There was only Juleka, her mate who needed comforting.

“I’m here,” she whispered as her wings curled around them both. “I’ve got you.”

Just for Tonight

Before Just for Tonight drabbles

Buy me a cherry coke?

#rose appreciation week #julerose #just for tonight #rose lavillant #juleka couffaine

[badcowboy69]

Homeward Bound part 3

After long last I finally got this continuation of my saga where my courier six, Travis Blackfox, travels to Arizona with his partner, Riley White, to try and find his parents.  The emotional part of this story was a bit difficult to write as I really couldn’t relate or put into proper words, but hopefully I did well on it.  Story posted under the Read More thing as always since it’s long.  

Hope y’all enjoy it and if you need to start from the beginning....

part one        part two       Enjoy! 

@zoey-and-dakota  sorry I kept you waiting for so long!   Hope you like it!

The walk towards the house had Travis feel as if he were in a surreal dream where everything moved painfully slow.  He did his best to keep the flood of emotions at bay by concentrating on the crunching of gravel beneath his black boots.  With each step he took the crunching seemed to get louder until it was an almost deafening roar in his ears.  However, it still wasn’t loud enough to block out his fears and concerns.  

What if they don’t care I’m back?  What if they don’t approve of my relationship with Riley?  What am I even going to say to them?  Howdy, nice to see y’all again! Sorry if I don’t remember who the fuck you are let alone your names.  What if...he flinched and forced that thought and any others out of his head. He remembered what Riley said earlier about the ‘what if’ stuff and it was a very valid point.  There was no use in worrying about things that might not even be an issue.

As they continued forward, Riley felt a discomforting pressure on his hand as Travis suddenly squeezed it tightly.  Giving his partner a sideways glance, Riley asked if he was alright.  The question went unanswered for a few long seconds before Travis numbly nodded.  The courier then vaguely heard Riley ask if he wanted to stop a moment, but Travis shook his head while still keeping his gaze fixated on the ground.  “Can’t stop...gotta face this and get it over with...been buggin’ me way too long,” Travis admitted uneasily as the butterflies in his stomach seemed to intensify.

Sooner than expected, the pace abruptly slowed and Travis felt Riley’s hand release his.  This simple action caused a shudder to surge down his spine and pace to falter almost causing him to stumble.  Lifting his head, Travis turned to stare at his partner, eyes wide.  

“It’s ok.  I’m right here,” Riley said as soothingly as he could, noticing the slight panic in Travis’ eyes.  Riley truly didn’t want to disconnect from him, but this was something Travis needed to face on his own.  There was also the fact that the Blackfoxes might not know about Travis being a confirmed bachelor.  The last thing Riley wanted to do was cause more tension on top of this already emotionally charged encounter.

An anxious knot now formed in Travis’ stomach.  It felt as if a great weight was pressing down on his shoulders and his lungs were filling with cotton.  A bead of sweat rolled down from under his hat, along his cheek and jaw until it got to his goatee where it seemingly vanished from the world.  Travis absently rubbed his whiskered chin and swallowed hard to try and keep his nerves in check.  However, the longing for the whiskey bottle he knew was resting on the floor of his car teased his thoughts and he licked his parched lips.

It wasn’t long before Travis noticed Riley stopped walking and was standing a few feet behind him. Travis instantly knew that his long journey had finally come to an end.  With that realization, Travis halted and began kicking at the gravel with the pointed toe of his boot all while keeping his gaze to the ground.  This is it, he thought while taking a calming breath and hooking the thumb of his right hand in the belt loop of his jeans.  

Mustering up his courage,Travis tilted his head to the side and slowly looked up from under the brim of his hat.  He squinted in the sunlight at the cowboy and his wife standing in the shade of the porch.  He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, maybe a flood of remembrance or some sort of recognition, as he stared up at them.  However, none of that happened and he felt awkward looking at the eager faces of two strangers.  Not knowing what he should say or do, he forced a nervous grin and drawled a soft, “H-howdy.”

The world seemed to have come to a standstill where not even the wind dared to blow.  Rex picked up on the nervous energy in the air and he sat down near Travis’ feet, whining and feebly wagging his tail.  Travis glanced at him for a moment, but quickly lifted his eyes back up hearing a soft gasp come from the direction of the porch.  The sound came from the woman who was standing next to the stoic black-clad cowboy.  

The blonde woman pulled from her husband’s embrace, her hands moving up to cover her mouth, daring not to believe her boy was alive.  Taking a tentative step forward and down the stairs, Tracy continued to stare in disbelief at the lanky courier standing a mere five feet away from her.  Although it’s been close to ten years since Travis has gone missing, not much about him has changed looks wise.  His body might have filled out slightly now that he wasn’t trekking through the desert on deliveries.  His hair might be shorter and his skin a little tanner, but he still looked exactly the same.  Riley observed those subtle differences when he saw the photo on Travis’ courier ID so most certainly Tracy did too.  Regardless of changes, no matter how subtle or strong, a mother will always know her child.  Travis could be shaved bald and painted blue, but his mother would still know him. 

“Travis?” she asked nervously, a soft waver to her voice.  “Travis, is it...is it really you and this ain’t some cruel dream?” 

Taking a deep breath, Travis gave a short nod. “A’yup,” he softly replied as he forced himself to give her a crooked grin.

A long moment of silence followed and Tracy stared at her son daring not to blink in case he’d vanish from her life once again.  Long minutes passed until her mind finally accepted this was no dream.  She tentatively reached out as if to touch his cheek, but instead gave a joyful cry and Travis found himself in a bone-crunching embrace.  “Travis!  My Travis!  It’s really you!  You’re alive!” she exclaimed, sobbing against his chest while clutching his red shirt tightly to keep him near.  She lost him once, she wasn’t about to lose him again.

Travis was froze in place completely unsure on what he should do or even what he should feel.  On one hand he was glad he finally found his parents and it was obvious they were happy he was alive.  However, they were completely unknown to him and this encounter had him feeling out of place and lost.  He glanced over to Riley who was biting anxiously at his thumbnail.  Travis mouthed “What do I do?” to him when he suddenly felt a firm hand clamp hard on his shoulders.  He then found himself being yanked from the woman’s arms and into the strong grip of the cowboy who was previously at her side on the porch.

“My boy!” Dante exclaimed as he released Travis’ shoulders and pulled him into yet another bone-crunching hug.  Fortunately it only lasted a few seconds and Travis again found himself clutched tightly by the shoulders and held out at arm’s length.  “Let me get a good gander at’cha, son!”  However, the joy in Dante’s eyes quickly extinguished as he stared at the blank, no emotional attachment look Travis was giving him.  “Ya really ain’t got a clue who’n the hell we are, do ya?” the black-clad cowboy asked in disappointment.

Travis felt dread fill his entire being as he knew this was going to happen.  He saw the couple’s happy smiles vanish and were instantly replaced by those of heartbreak and concern.   “N-no, sir,” he muttered sadly while instinctively pulling away and gravitating towards Riley seeking out the comfort he knew he’d find there.  “It...it’s awfully nice to finally meet y’all, though.”  Travis flinched and inwardly groaned at how stupid that sounded.

Stepping forward and gently touching Travis’ face, Tracy looked up into his crystal blue eyes and frowned while the tears continued to trail down her cheeks.  The empty look he gave as if she were a complete stranger stabbed her right through the heart.  “It’s all true what your friend said, ain’t it?  You done lost all your memories ‘cause you got shot and...and...k-killed?” she choked on the last word and bit her lower lip to stop it from trembling. 

Travis nodded slowly and kicked at the dirt with the point of his boot.  “Yes’m...ain’t lost everything though, but...enough.  It’s a big story to tell and I can only go by what I was told and all.  Y’all ain’t gonna like most of what you hear, but I reckon with me being alive y’all know it at least ended good,” he chuckled weakly while rubbing the back of his neck.   

“Oh,Travis!  Who could have done such a thing to you?  Why?  Why would anyone shoot you?”  Tracy sobbed as she fought the urge to gather him up in her arms and cry against his chest.   

“Who’s the son-of-a-bitch?  I’ll kill’em with my bare hands!” Dante interjected as his arms bent at the elbows close to his side with fingers wide-spread in a stereotypical gunslinger stance.

Smirking, Travis glanced over at his father.  “Ain’t gotta.  I done killed the man myself,” he casually stated.  “Took some searching, but I took care of him.”  

Dante’s scowl suddenly changed into a matching smirk and he stared proudly at his son.  “Didja now?  That’s my boy!” he exclaimed while giving Travis a congratulatory thump on the back.  

The somber mood temporarily broken, Tracy took a deep breath to calm herself.  Mustering up a smile she began to wipe away her tears.  “Listen, y’all drove a long ways to get here and I’m sure y’all are probably hungry and thirsty.  How’s about we head inside and I’ll get us all something cool to drink?  I can show you around some or you can share your story whenever you’re ready.  Does that sound good?”

Dante nodded in agreement to his wife’s proposal and he stepped forward to embrace her and steal a quick kiss.  “First I’m gonna go inform the staff I won’t be finishing up the day’s chores.  This is a little more important than shoveling shit.”  Giving his wife another kiss, Dante turned towards his son while shaking his head in amazement.  “Wonderful to have ya back, Travis.”  Touching his fingers to the brim of his hat, he gave a nod to Riley and strode towards the house and vanished inside.

“Come on in, fellas,” Tracy grinned as she eagerly climbed the stairs, following after her husband.  “Just make yourselves at home and I'll rustle up some drinks.”

When the screen door banged shut leaving him alone with his partner, Travis let out the breath he’s been holding for too long.  He removed his hat and rubbed his face with his free hand.  “Fuck.”

Riley arched an eyebrow and stepped closer to him.  “How you holding up?” he asked while placing his hand on Travis’ shoulder and giving a tender squeeze.  “Is everything ok?”

Travis nodded and wiped the sweat off his brow with his shirt sleeve.  “A’yup.  Overwhelmed I reckon.  I mean, it’s exciting and scary and confusing all at the same time.  Part of me wants to look around and see if anything triggers a memory, another part wants them to tell me all about my past, and another part wants to go with you back to town and get drunk.  I really don’t know what direction to think.”

“Take your time.  It’s a lot to take in.  I can’t even pretend to know how you must be feeling now.  The hardest part is over I think.  Your parents are completely overjoyed that you’re alive and back in their lives.  Hopefully the rest of this visit will go easier.”

“Maybe,” Travis shrugged while reaching for Riley’s hand, but hesitated and decided against it.  Placing his hat back on his head, Travis made his way towards the porch with Rex close at his heels.  “Stay out here, bud,” he directed at the dog while giving him an affectionate scratch on the ears.  “Don’t know how they’d feel having a critter in the house.  Go explore and maybe find yourself some new friends.  We’ll catch up later.”

The dog looked up at him and gave a sad whine.  He turned towards Riley almost as if looking for approval from the redhead instead, but was ignored as the man was staring intently at his mate.  Making a soft huff, the cyberdog gave Travis’ hand a lick before bounding off back towards the car while stopping to sniff things along the way. 

“Here goes nothing,” Travis muttered while slowly climbing the stairs.  When Travis’ feet touched the worn wood of the porch, he locked his knees.  His stomach clenched in excitement, but still he hesitated, unsure on what he should do or if he was even able to go forward with this.

Placing a gentle hand on Travis’ back, Riley felt him stiffen then relax at his touch.  “I'm right here, babe.  Are you ready?” 

Wordlessly, Travis nodded and pushed open the screen door.  He flinched at the metallic squeak it made and took his first step into the house.  At first he stood in the doorway, his crystal blue eyes scanning the room briefly before taking a few more steps inside.  Once his eyes adjusted to the dim surroundings, he began to slowly wander around the living room.  To the left was the dining room and kitchen and to his right was a hallway no doubt leading to the bedrooms and bathroom. 

Keeping his focus on the living room, Travis was impressed at how neat and organized everything was.  He marveled at the decor which was mostly typical of the times and place.  Many wood carvings and handmade crafts adorned the walls, end tables and shelves.  As fascinating everything was and piquing his curiosity, he found himself gravitating towards the fireplace.  Hanging over the mantle were large horns of some kind, their tips looked very sharp and Travis furrowed his brow wondering what kind of animal they could even be from.  Under the horns was a bracket holding a worn shotgun that has seen better days.  A small wood and brass clock was centered on the mantle and it was surrounded by a various assortment of pictures in frames.  As he looked them over, Travis’ heart seemed to have stopped as most of the pictures featured him either alone or with his parents.

Frowning deeply, Travis looked closely at the photos before choosing one of interest.  He stared hard at it, his mind working frantically trying to find some shard of remembrance.  The scene was of he and his parents standing outside of the Mojave Express building.  All had happy smiles and Travis looked excited to be there.  “This is way too weird,” he muttered, not taking his eyes off the picture when Riley stepped to his side.  “I mean...that’s me!  This one is probably my first day as a courier or something, but I ain’t got any recollection about it at all.”  

As he continued to scan the framed photographs, he stopped at another.  This time it was him on top of a bucking bighorner.  Travis couldn’t help the confused chuckled that came from his throat.  “Ok, this is too surreal now.  This I do remember.  Did this during the run at the Big Circle.”

Riley smiled hopefully with Travis recognizing something, but then realized it was yet again another memory outside of his home and family.  “I recall you mentioning this story.  It’s amazing there’s a photo to go along with it.  Are there any other pictures here you might remember?”

Travis shook his head at the rest which were random scenes during his childhood or with his parents.  “Naw...not these anyways.  Looks like I had a good growing up at least.  Woulda been nice to still have these memories around.”  Frowning, he placed the bighorner picture back on the shelf.  Picking up another frame, Travis gave a nod to it.  “I mean lookit this,” he said sadly while showing it to Riley.  “Here I am playing a guitar with a bunch of other folks, including my father.  Looks like some kind of fun party with everyone enjoying the music, but I ain’t got one damn clue what it all is about let alone who these people are.”

There was frustration growing in Travis’ voice now and Riley knew he was getting overwhelmed trying to process everything.  Riley noticed Travis’ hand shaking slightly and he took the frame from him and set it back on the mantle.  “Don’t stress yourself, Travis.  Try and relax.  Come on, let’s take a seat.”  

Giving a soft grunt in agreement, Travis sat down heavily on the couch and began to absently scratch his fingernail over the faded flower print pattern.  Riley took a seat next to him and gave Travis’ knee a squeeze.  “Pretty nice house, don’t you think?” he asked in hopes to get Travis to focus on something else other than lost memories and photographs.  “I can’t wait to see the outside and what kind of animals and crops your folks are raising.  What about you?”

Numbly nodding, Travis pushed his hat off his brow and sighed.  “Yeah.  Could be nice.  Little stuffy in here, though, but ain’t nothing I can’t get used to,” he chuckled weakly realizing how spoiled he became from living in the air conditioned coolness of the Lucky 38.  “At least they got ceiling fans.”  

“Here we go, dears!” Mrs. Blackfox suddenly announced while entering the room bringing two bottles of water and plates with some kind of pie on them.  “Hope y’all like mutfruit pie.  Made it up yesterday.  Thought to do something a little different than the typical apple.”

“Much obliged, ma’am,” Travis quietly replied while taking a plate and bottle from his mother.

She smiled faintly at his politeness and handed the remaining items to Riley.  “Travis, your father is on his way back and thankfully alone.  I was scared he’d be tailed by Tim and Brad, our ranch hands.  They have worked for us ever since you were a little boy and saw you grow up and truly mourned your loss so many years ago.”  Tracy sighed wistfully and took a seat on a blue fabric chair next to the fireplace.  “I do know they’re going to be champing at the bit to come and see you, so just a fair warning on what’s probably going to come later on.”

Travis grimaced and took a deep swallow of his water.  Great, more people I won’t know that know me, he thought glumly while he began to absently flick his fingers against the glass bottle.  

His mother mustered up a smile and gave a nod towards him.  “I see that you still flick at bottles when you’re really pondering something.  Don’t be nervous, Travis.  I’m quite sure your father told them to stay away until you’re ready to see them.”

Arching an eyebrow, Travis suddenly grew self-conscious and stopped flicking the bottle.  He felt even more awkward now and wasn’t sure if he would ever get used to these people knowing things about him when he had no clue about them himself.  

The abrupt bang of the back door sounded through the house indicating Dante had returned.  “Dang, those idjits were too excited hearing the news,” Dante called out from the kitchen to anyone listening.  “Told ‘em to relax and do their work.  Told ‘em maybe we’ll see ‘em after dinner.”  The lanky cowboy strode into the room clutching a beer and dragging a wooden chair behind him from the dining area.  Placing the chair next to his wife, he took a seat, twisted the cap off the bottle and took a long guzzle practically emptying it in one go.  “I miss anything?” he asked, his pale eyes going from his wife to his son then back to his wife again.

“No,” Tracy responded.  “To be honest, I’m really not sure where to start.  Isn’t that silly?  I mean, almost ten years thinking my only son was dead and gone and here he is back home and in my company and I have no clue on what to say.”

Travis frowned deeply and swirled the contents of his bottle before downing the remainder of his water.  “How do you think I feel?” he muttered while stuffing a forkful of pie in his mouth.  “Ah hell, sorry, that sounded rude.  I...it’s just all of this is so dang confusing for me.”    

“I understand.  I got my own bit of confusion myself,” Tracy replied as her husband took her hand and entwined their fingers together.  She felt tears welling up in her eyes once again, but did her best to hold them back.  “I have lots of questions, way more than you can probably handle right now.  Still, you’re in charge of the pacing, Travis.  Take your time.  Tell what you want and what you’re comfortable with.  The important thing is you took the first big step and are sitting here with us now.”

“Dang, she sounds like you,” Travis nervously snickered to Riley making his partner blink behind his glasses and blush.  Removing his hat, Travis ran his fingers through his hair before placing the hat on his lap.  “Reckon I might as well start at the beginning on what I can remember before I got shot and what I was told about it afterwards.  After that things get a little crazy and unbelievable at times, but like I said earlier, y'all know it ended good.”

Taking a deep, calming breath, Travis began telling his somber tale.  He started with what he was able to remember on his arrival in Nevada for the all important delivery to New Vegas.  He recalled making camp for the night and that someone approached him asking if he had any caps to spare.  “Right as I gave him the caps I got whacked from behind and everything went black.  Was told later by my savior that I was found in a cemetery where I had been shot in the head and left for dead in a shallow grave.”  

Hearing those horrid details caused Mrs. Blackfox to loudly gasp, cover her mouth with her hands and begin crying again.  Dante frowned and gathered her up in his arms.  “Shush, love, it's ok,” he said soothingly while stroking her hair.  “Travis said it himself, at least you know the ending is good.”  His wife nodded against him, but still kept her face buried against his shoulder and sobbed.

Travis squirmed uncomfortably seeing his mother cry and he wished to be anyplace else but here.  He twitched his moustache and gave a side glance to Riley who gave him an empathetic smile.  Clearing his throat, Travis adjusted his position on the couch and waited patiently for his mother to calm down.  

Realizing she was carrying on and that Travis had stopped his tale, Tracy pulled from her husband and nervously laughed.  “S-sorry about that.  It’s just...wow.  I know the wasteland is a harsh place, but I never would have thought someone could be so horrible to someone like that.  You were being kind to boot!  What was all the fuss about?  Why would they even do such a horrible thing?”

“Had no answer right then,” Travis responded with a shrug.  “When I came to, a fella named Doc Mitchell was at my side and explained what happened to me.  He was amazed I finally woke up and all.  He then did some random questions to see how my brain was doing and stuff.  I had to relearn a few things as time went on like buttoning my shirt and how to shoot a gun, but the doc told me I made a complete recovery.  He was a bit unhappy I couldn’t remember my family or where I came from, but said if I was lucky, maybe it’ll come back in due time.  Once I recovered enough to his approval, the doc gave me some supplies and things for my trip to New Vegas.  I was accompanied by the robot that dug me out of the grave and got me to Goodsprings.  Honestly, I would have preferred to stay in that little town and see if any memories come back, but for some reason I felt I had to meet the person that hired me and get some answers first.  Also figured he might be able to help me find the ass who shot me so I could return the favor of a bullet to the noggin.”

By now, Travis’ throat was starting to get parched and he began to long for a beer or, better yet, that whiskey he knew was waiting for him on the floor of his car.  Almost as if reading his mind, Tracy held up her hand and suggested, “Now might be a good time to pause your story, Travis.  I think we all could use a drink.”  

Travis breathed a sigh of relief and pressed his back against the couch cushions.  He was quickly becoming mentally drained and wanted to disappear somewhere with Riley and melt into his embrace.  There was nothing Travis hated more than being the sole focus of attention.  Being in center stage was bad enough, but everything else wrapped around this emotionally charged situation was really taking its toll on him.  He also knew that his telling of the last few years was only the beginning.  There was no doubt going to be plenty of questions asked afterwards.  Couple that with being shown around later and meeting more people that were once part of his life only added to his anxieties.  “Shit,” Travis softly groaned and nervously ran his fingers through his hair, wondering if this trip was even a good idea. 

Fortunately Mrs. Blackfox returned before Travis’ nerves got the best of him.  She was carrying three mason jars, a bottle of Sunset Sarsaparilla and a large, brown jug.  “Figured y’all might need something a little stronger than water or beer for that matter.  This is my husband’s make of moonshine.  Got a good kick to it, but goes down nice and smooth,” she explained while handing over the jars and filling them two fingers high with the alcohol.  Setting the jug on the coffee table, she returned to her seat and handed the third jar to her husband.  “Drink up, fellas.  Hope y’all like it.”

Travis briefly sniffed the contents and detected a hint of cinnamon mixed over the sharp alcohol scent.  He quirked an eyebrow at his father who gave him a wink before downing his own portion of liquor in seconds flat.  Twitching his moustache, Travis took a bigger mouthful than he probably should have and coughed.  “Hoo dang, you ain’t kidding!  This sure does got a kick to it!” he coughed again and felt his eyes begin to water.  

Seeing his partner’s reaction to the liquor, Riley took a more moderate sip from his jar.  An impressed smile danced on his lips and he nodded in appreciation.  “Wow, this is really, really good!  It has the distinct flavor that sort of reminds me of apple pie from back home.  My compliments to you, Mister Blackfox.”

“Please, y’all can call me Dante.  Ain't no need to be so formal.  We're all family here,” the black-clad cowboy casually replied while giving Riley a knowing look which caused the redhead suddenly feel his cheeks burn with a blush.  Seeing Riley’s subtle reaction made Dante narrow his eyes and grin all the more, but he refrained from saying anything else.  

Not catching went on between Riley and Dante, Travis cleared his throat and continued onwards with his story.   He briefly talked about the days he and the securitron, Victor, traveled through the Mojave heading to New Vegas.  Once at his destination, he met the being by the name of Mister House who resided in the well guarded casino, the Lucky 38.  Here Travis got all his questions answered and was even offered a huge reward if he would continue what he was originally hired for.  “He wanted some dumb doohickey called a platinum chip.  Said it was gonna help restore peace to the Mojave and bring New Vegas back to its glory.  Well, best it could all things considered,” Travis smirked while taking another mouthful of moonshine.  

“House said as a reward for going above and beyond helping him I could live in the luxury of the casino for as long as I like even after the mission was over.  I could have anything I wanted and had tons of caps at my disposal.  I didn't care too much about that sorta thing, but I ain't stupid and agreed.”

By now, Travis was steadily starting to feel more relaxed with the telling of his tale.  However, he was certain most of it was due to the liquor he was consuming.  Still, he wasn't exactly happy discussing the events that lead up to tracking his assassin, Benny, to the Legion camp at Fortification Hill.  Much to the delight of his father, Travis hastily discussed his dispatching Benny in the Legion fighting arena.  This deadly battle had to be done.  It was the only way to prove his worth to Caesar.  Being victorious he was granted permission to head to the underground bunker where Mister House previously instructed him to go once he obtained the Platinum Chip.  However, what came after, Travis gave a ten cent version so to speak.  He hated the army of robots that he was forced to activate and hated that he was now going to be in the middle of something much greater than his original job of delivering a simple package. 

To prevent his parents thinking he was some sort of super hero or vengeful maniac, Travis talked about all the allies he gained at this point.  They were all valuable friends ranging from the Great Khans to the Boomers to the Enclave Remnants to the Brotherhood of Steel who aided him in the upcoming battle.  He also briefly mentioned his NCR 1st Recon companion, Craig Boone.  However, he omitted the short affair they had for more than one reason, but mostly it was something he wanted to forget himself.  Travis also assured his parents that during the final battle he oversaw everything in the safety of a control room inside of Hoover Dam.  Fortunately the battle was over quickly as Caesar’s army couldn’t defend itself to the crippling blow Mister House’s Securitrons delivered from inside the Fort.  Travis’ allies also lent their hands delivering crushing blows to the Legion army.  As a result the tyranny of Legion threat was finally over. 

Travis was beyond drained now and wearily sighed while helping himself to another serving of moonshine.  To him his tale of adventure was done and he tried to think of a way to tie it all up in completion.  “When the dust settled, Mister House, my robot army, and myself made it known to the NCR we’re taking over and they need to get out of Dodge so to speak.  They weren’t happy, but they had no choice.  After the NCR cleared out and all, I continued to live in the casino and work with Mister House on restoring New Vegas and the surrounding areas best as the wasteland could offer.  We still got an uneasy collaboration, but he’s been quite pleased with all I got done and suggested.  I reckon I sorta am too.”  Travis took a sip of his drink and stifled a yawn with a dismissive wave signaling he was finally done with telling his saga.  “Obviously got lots more years after to talk about, but that's for another time.”

All through Travis’ story, the Blackfoxes sat in wide-eyed wonderment hearing all their son had not only gone through, but accomplished.  Now that his tale was complete, they continued to sit in almost stunned silence until Dante let out a low whistle.  “Holy shit!  Ya know, we heard about the battle and stuff over the radio, but they ain’t never gave a name or nothin’.  Who’da thunk it was my own son that what did all that stuff?”

“Oh, if only the radio announcer said your name!” Tracy chimed in with sadness in her voice.  “Had they mentioned your name we would have known you were alive!  Might have been able to find a way to travel to New Vegas or even get a message to you...and even if we couldn’t do those things just knowing you were alive…” she trailed off and bit her lower lip to stop it from trembling from that realization.  

Travis frowned deeply and cast his eyes to the floor.  It was per his request to radio announcer, Mister New Vegas, and anyone else picking up the story, to please keep his name out of it.  He wanted the anonymity as he really didn’t see the need to get shoved into celebrity status especially over something like a battle.  He never even considered news of his exploits might have traveled far from Vegas anyway let alone here in Arizona  If he knew having his name out there would have prevented the heartache and pain thinking their son was dead, Travis most certainly would have done so.  Having that realization made Travis’ heart sink and he felt even worse than he already did about all the sorrows he put his parents through all these years.

Thankfully before he had a chance to dwell too much on things he couldn’t change, a banging could be heard sounding from the back door followed by a man’s voice calling, “Dante!  Hey, Dante!  I know yer busy with yer boy, but we got ourselves a situation out here and we need help!”

Dante rolled his eyes and groaned.  “Goddammit...I figured this was gonna happen.  Those boys ain’t got no clue how to operate nothing without me half the time.  Reckon I might as well give those idjits a hand.  Got some amazing stories to tell ‘em anyways about…”

“Hold your steeds there, honey,” Tracy interrupted with a laugh.  “Don’t go firing them up too much!  We got important guests that come first.  You know those boys’ll want to start busting out the drinks and food and have a big party right as the sun sets all the way 'til it comes up again!”

“What’s wrong with that?  We got a grand reason to celebrate!”  Dante exclaimed getting a playful shove from his wife in return.

“That we do, but I think Travis has been through enough excitement for today...in fact all of us have.  Besides, I have to start making dinner anyways.  It’s getting late.”

Dante nodded and gave his wife a light kiss on her lips.  “Sounds good.  I’ll go see what those fellas got into and I’ll be back in time for chow.”  The lanky cowboy stepped to the couch, smiled proudly down at Travis and clamped a hand on his shoulder.  “Sorry, I gotta scoot outta here so fast, but it was great hearing your story.  It was really somethin’ else.  Great ta have ya back, son.  Cain’t wait to show ya around and keep catchin’ up with ya.”  Giving a grateful nod to Riley, he added, “Much obliged to you for bringing him home.  I owe ya one.”  Dante then patted his son’s shoulder on last time, turned on his heel and loped out of the room.

With the previous mention of food, Travis’ stomach impulsively growled.  Standing quickly, he placed his black cowboy hat on his head and shoved his hands in his pockets.  “Well, this was great and all and I don’t want to sound rude, but I am getting rather hungry myself.  We saw an eatery back in town and I think we should head out and get some chow right quick.  I can bring y’all something back if you like?  This way you ain’t gotta cook since I took up lots of your time.”

“Heading out?  Absolutely not!  You came all this way to find your past and what kind of mother would I be telling her only child he can’t stay for dinner?  Travis, you and Riley are welcome to join us and I’d be downright insulted if y’all say no!”

Travis swallowed hard at the invitation.  He had assumed she would offer dinner to them, but now that the words actually left her lips, he was at a bit of a loss.  He looked helplessly at Riley, his mouth refusing to work properly.  However, getting an affirmative nod from his partner seemed to have somehow gave him that push he needed.  “Well...if you insist.  I mean I don’t wanna put y’all out or nothing.”

“Nonsense!  I always end up making more than enough food as it is.  At least this time whatever leftovers we got won’t be getting tossed out for the coyotes.  Then it’s settled.  There’s a bathroom down the hall if y’all want to get washed up first.”  Mrs. Blackfox sighed and stared in amazement at her back-from-the-dead son with tears glistening in her eyes.  “It truly is a miracle that you are here, Travis.  You can’t even imagine what the last bunch of years were like for us.  We even kept your room exactly how you left it on that day you left for New Vegas.  It’s the second door down the hall on the left.”  Wiping at her eyes to prevent the tears from spilling over, Tracy took a deep breath and did her best to compose herself.  “Now if you do excuse me, I’m gonna go and get dinner started.  See you boys in a bit.”   

As she exited the room, Travis groaned and released the breath he was holding.  “Shit.  Didn’t think this was going to be so dang exhausting,” he complained.  “Feels like I got a pregnant brahmin sitting on my chest.”

“You’re doing perfectly fine, babe,” Riley gently replied while he took Travis by his wrist.  “Now, let’s go check out that room of yours and see if you can discover any long forgotten memories.” 

to be continued...

#travis blackfox #courier six #riley white #sole survivor #fallout new vegas #writings

[edxwin-elric]

Screwdriver

Edwin Smut Week: Day 2

Theme: Toys

Rating: MA/nsfw (smut)

Pairing: Edwin/Edward Elric x Winry Rockbell

Disclaimer: I don’t own Fullmetal Alchemist.

Word Count: 3022

Description: Edwin One Shot

Ed interrupts Winry while she’s working for some adult time.

A/N: For the purposes of this fic, suspend your disbelief a little and ignore how unsanitary this whole thing is, okay? Just enjoy the smut.

my esw18 tag || ffn || ao3

day 1: hot & steamy || day 3: naptime naughtiness

Winry

I let out a low growl followed by a slow breath. I’m so close to finishing this elbow. If I could just get this one piece to—

“You know, you could sit down.”

I sigh and shake my head, not even bothering to look over my shoulder at where Ed is definitely standing in the doorway watching me.

“I was losing feeling in my butt,” I mutter, trying to maintain focus. I have to get this stupid automail done.

I’m standing at my workbench, bent at the waist rather than sitting on my stool, as I struggle to make this damn piece work. I can’t sit still for too long because I get restless. Or, like I said, parts of my body start to go numb.

“This butt?”

His hand lands on my left cheek through the material of my coveralls, which are tied around my waist.

“Edward!” I snap at him, whipping my head around. “Don’t–”

“What are you working on?” he cuts me off, leaning over me to look at my project.

“Um, it’s an arm for a military vet,” I answer, thrown off balance by his sudden subject change.

“Hmm…” He rests a hand on the table and leans into it, examining my workspace.

“I’m actually almost finished—eek!” I squeal as the fingers of his other hand trail down my spine and into the cloth at my hips.

“You should take a break,” he murmurs, not removing his hand in the slightest.

“Ed, I really–” I choke when he goes further into the band of my underwear, the rough pads of his fingertips lightly stroking the tops of my butt cheeks.

I start to pull away, but he leans in more, his lips going to my neck.

“Come on, Winry. Just for a little bit.”

“Ed,” I gasp. “I… I have to finish the…order.”

“Okay. Just let me finish you first.”

I start to say no, but his hand slides even deeper into my panties until he’s cupping me over my ass, his calloused fingers brushing between my lips.

“I’ll be fast,” he promises, tonguing my neck.

His thumbnail grazes against me, and I moan.

“Okay, fine,” I choke. “But hurry.”

Before I even finish my sentence, his hand is out of my pants, shoving my coveralls the rest of the way off, and then suddenly, I’m sitting with my ass on the edge of the spare workbench I keep for overflow as he hovers over me, forcing me to lean back on my hands.

“Ed…”

“You’ve got a deadline, don’t you?” he interrupts, his voice thick with promised orgasms. “I’ve got to make this fast.”

“Wait–”

He yanks my bandeau down over my head, freeing my breasts. Instantly, my nipples tighten in the cool air.

“I love these,” he whispers, his hand gently fondling my heavy mounds. “So soft.” He squeezes them lightly, and I whimper. “Except for this part.”

My hand clenches into a fist as he expertly rolls my hardened bud between two of his fingers.

“I—I don’t have a deadline,” I squeak as he switches to tugging at me, sending bolts of electricity from my sensitive tip into my panties.

“What?” His head pops up, his eyes meeting mine.

“I mean, I do.” I lick my lips. “But not for a week. I…I have some time.”

He makes a low sound in his throat and gives me a devilish look before his mouth drops to my chest and sucks the peak of my other boob inside. My head drops back, and I bring my knees up, opening my legs wider.

He moves closer and reaches down to stroke me over my underwear.

“Ed!”

He pushes in, forcing the fabric up between my lips. I drop back onto my elbows, my breathing getting shallow. Suddenly, he yanks the sides down, stripping me bare. I watch as he holds them to his nose, making my face flush. He gives me a smug look before tucking them into his pants pocket. His hands move to his belt, and I lick my lips in anticipation.

“Actually…” He pauses and looks over his shoulder at my work bench.

“What?” I whisper, trying to ignore the strange and titillating sensation of air flowing across my exposed pussy.

“Since I don’t have to hurry…”

He turns and takes a step away from me, going to my toolbox. I watch as he sifts through various bolts and wrenches and other random things, caught between telling him to get his hands out of my stuff and trying to figure out what the hell he’s doing.

“Aha.”

He turns around holding one of my screwdrivers, and I blink. Why does he need that? I thought we were having sex.

“Ed?” I start to lean forward, but he crosses back to me, still holding up the tool.

“Are you up for trying something different?” he asks, his voice gravelly.

“Um…what do you have in mind?”

He turns the screwdriver over so that he’s holding it by the thin metal shaft and waggles his eyebrows at me.

“Edward, I don’t—oh!”

I jerk as the rough, rubber end of the screwdriver brushes along the outside of my slit.

“Do you get it now?” Ed looks up at me, and I swallow, my eyes going from him to the large, textured end of my tool.

“I…I don’t know if…”

“If you decide you don’t like it, we can always stop,” he coaxes gently. “But if you’re sure you don’t want to try it at all, we don’t have to.”

I close my eyes and exhale slowly, trying to think. Finally, I reach out and grab his wrist, gently tugging it down between my legs. I tense when the rounded end touches me but continue to carefully guide his hand up and down.

“We can try it,” I whisper as, looking up at him.

“You’re sure?” His hand stills, and I instantly miss the rhythm.

“Yeah.” I nod. “Go ahead.”

He begins moving again, and I lay back on the table, widening my legs. I reach down to grab the edge with one hand as he uses his fingers to spread open my pussy, allowing the tip of the screwdriver to stroke deeper.

“Oh God,” I choke, my grip on the table tightening. “Ed!”

“Fuck,” he says softly, dragging the rubber between my folds. “Your pussy is weeping everywhere.”

“Edward, stop teasing me,” I whine, lifting my head to look at him.

“Teasing you, am I?” He catches my eye, and my breath stalls at the devious glint in his. “Then what do you call this?”

His gentle strokes suddenly pick up speed, causing my head to go back, digging into the table. At the same time, his head lowers to my chest, pulling one of my nipples into his mouth.

I let out a pitiful whine as he sucks on my aching peak. I thrust my chest out, forcing more of it into his mouth. His tongue flicks over my nipple again and again, causing it to tighten into a stiff point.

I move restlessly beneath him as the screwdriver creates intense friction between my legs. I reach out with one hand and grab his shoulder to steady myself. The end of the tool rolls against my clit, and I cry out, my fingers digging into his skin.

“Jesus, Win,” he grunts against my breast.

“Sorry,” I gasp. “I didn’t mean to–”

“I’m not complaining.” He grins, his teeth catching around my erect little bud, and I moan.

He releases it only to switch to my other boob, starting the whole process over again. My hand on his shoulder moves lower, and my other one releases the edge of the work bench to slide around his hip, dipping into the waistband of his pants. He jerks against me and looks up.

“You seem agitated,” he comments, resting his chin between my now-red breasts.

“Of course, I’m agitated,” I gasp, my pussy squeezing tight as he traces the edges of my lips with my tool. “Just put it in me already!”

He looks surprised for a second before he presses his lips together like he’s trying not to laugh.

“Edward Elric, I swear to God, if you hold out on me for one more second, I–”

My words die suddenly as his fingers spread my lips wide, the rough pads scraping my sensitive skin.

“I’ve never done anything like this,” he reminds me softly, his eyes locked intently on the throbbing place between my legs. “I don’t want to screw it up.”

I nod, my teeth buried in my lower lip.

He lines up the end of the makeshift toy and begins to push it inside me. I whimper, my hands grabbing at his shoulders as the tip goes in.

“I’m gonna keep going,” he says softly. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I breathe. “Go on.”

He grabs one of my thighs, holding it open, as he continues filling me with the wide end of my screwdriver. I have to force myself to breathe as the rubber, slick with my juices, sinks into me. My walls tighten around it as it forces its way deeper into my channel. Finally, it’s all the way in, and Ed stops pushing, only to run a fingertip around where my lips are hugging the foreign object inside me.

Oh my God. It’s so tight. I didn’t realize the handle was this thick.

“How do you feel?” Ed asks softly, his fingers tapping lightly on the metal rod sticking out of my pussy.

“Full,” I choke. “It’s bigger than I thought.”

“Does it hurt?” Concern floods his tone. “We can stop if you want.”

“No,” I whisper, shaking my head. “I…It’s turning me on.”

Even as I say it, I feel wet leaking out around the screwdriver.

“You want me to keep going then?”

“Yeah,” I answer breathlessly, dropping onto my back. “Please.”

“Please?” he echoes, and I hear his eyebrows rising.

“Fuck me with my screwdriver, Ed.”

“Whatever you say,” he replies roughly. “You’re the mechanic.”

Gripping the metal end, he slowly pulls the handle out, making me shiver. He quickly drives it back in, and I let out a sob, my back arching off the table.

“More,” I gasp. “Faster!”

Instantly, he climbs up over me, his knees balancing on the edge of the table, one of his hands dropping on the wood next to my shoulder. His other hand remains between my legs as he begins retracting and thrusting the tool rhythmically.

“You close yet?” he grunts, and I turn my head to look at him, my eyes catching on the bulge in his pants.

“I think so,” I whimper. “It feels—oh God—so good, Ed.”

“Probably the texture of the rubber,” he comments, leaning down to my ear. “I bet it’s dragging against all that hot, silkiness inside of you, isn’t it?”

“Mmm,” I moan.

“It’ll probably rust from all the juice you’re leaking. I can feel it dripping on my fingers.”

“Ed!” I hiss, “Don’t–”

He cuts off the rest of my protest with an incredibly powerful thrust, and suddenly I’m coming. My jaw locks, my mouth releasing a shrill scream, and I dig my fingernails into his bicep as it crashes into me. My pussy spasms wildly, and I feel heat spreading down my thighs. It rolls over me in hard pulses before I feel it peaking and then slowly ebbing away. I’m panting when Edward takes hold of my wrist and removes it from his arm.

I watch him climb down again before he turns to me.

“You okay?”

“Uh-huh.” I nod.

I mean, I think so.

Oh God. I just came from my screwdriver!

Before I can even process the thought, the large rubber handle disappears.

I gasp and struggle to sit up on my shaky elbows.

“Ed, wha–”

“I’m jealous of a damn screwdriver,” he mumbles to himself. “Unbelievable.”

I blink in confusion. “What?” I murmur.

“Forget it,” he says dismissively. “How…uh, how was that? Good?”

“I, um…” I swallow, and struggle get my bearings.

“I mean, I know you came…a lot,” he adds, a smug smile spreading across his face. “But did you like it?”

I feel my cheeks burn with a blush, and I look away. “Yeah,” I whisper.

“Okay, good, because now it’s my turn.”

Tossing the tool behind him, he steps forward and grabs my knees, wrenching them apart. I yelp as one of his hands slides down my thigh, the other hastily working the zipper on his pants. His fingers brush against the sensitive skin of my slit, and I gasp.

And then, suddenly, I’m staring at him—all of him. His cock is standing angry and red, bobbing at me from between his toned thighs, the vein on the underside clearly throbbing from the increased blood flow. I let my eyes travel over it, taking in the swollen head that I already know feels smooth and hot to the touch. I glance up at his face and bite my lip.

He lets out a low growl and closes the distance, bending over the table, forcing me onto my back. I whimper when I feel it brush me, the tip lining up with my entrance, already slick with precum.

“Ed,” I moan.

“Jesus, Winry,” he swears brusquely, his face twisting into a grimace. “I’m about to come just from this.”

“Then hurry,” I plead, reaching down between us, desperate to have him inside me.

“Yeah. Okay.”

He tilts his head back, his fingers spreading my lips apart, and roars as he drives in. My hands immediately come up to his shoulders, bracing myself as I adjust to the size of him.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Like burying my dick in tight, pink silk.”

My pussy spasms at his words, and I see a muscle twitch in his jaw.

“What are you waiting for?” I ask softly, locking my legs around his waist.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he confesses, sounding pained. “I’m not sure I can hold back. Not after seeing you come so hard from your screwdriver.”

“Then don’t,” I command, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling his ear down to my lips. “Fuck me, Ed.”

He leans back and blinks at me before I see his eyes flash. And then his hands are on my hips, pulling me to the very edge of the table, where he begins thrusting. He’s gentle for about the first three, and then he begins hammering into me with abandon.

I cry out each time he slams into me, his pulsating cock hitting the back of my channel again and again. I love the way it feels. The roughness, the desperation. Even though I know I’ll be sore tomorrow, I want him to take me like this.

His mouth drops to my chest again as he continues to pound into me. I twist my neck to the side and whimper as he repeats the earlier sucking and nipping at my sensitive swells, licking my nipples, catching them between his teeth. My hand in his hair clenches tight, and suddenly he moves, his hands grabbing my legs and pulling them away from his hips.

I lose my grip on his head and open my eyes, staring as he forces my legs out and then up toward my shoulders. In the new position, he seems to go even deeper, and my pussy feels stretched impossibly wide. I moan loudly as he powers into me, my legs held up in the air.

It happens all at once—the friction, the repetitive motion, the pleasant ache he’s creating. There’s not time for it to build gradually, instead I come suddenly, without warning.

My hands slam down, grabbing onto the edge of the table so hard my knuckles go white. I feel my body lock up, and I forget how to breathe. The heat spreads quickly, burning through every cell in my body. I feel like I’m coming apart.

I flinch when Ed grunts roughly and drives in one final time as he comes, his hands releasing my arms to slam into the table by my shoulders. I feel him jerking inside of me as I feel his panting breaths tickle my hypersensitive skin. I slowly let go of the table and bring my trembling hands up, sliding them into his hair.

His forehead drops to my collarbone, and his arms give out as he collapses on top of me. I cradle his hips with my knees, his semi-hard shaft still buried inside of me, finally spent.

“Are you okay?” he asks gruffly, his hands moving to caress my ribs.

“I’m great,” I murmur weakly. “That was great.”

“Amazing,” he amends, his thumbs making little circles below my breasts. “And it was all you.”

“Hardly,” I counter. “You did all the work.”

“I was primed,” he returns, lifting his head. “Your face when you came from the screwdriver… I’ve never been so turned on. At least not so immediately.”

“Oh,” I whisper.

“Are you tired?” he asks gently.

“Yeah,” I yawn. “You wore me out.”

He stands slowly, and helps me down off the table.

“Can you walk to our room?”

“I should shower,” I whisper, looking down at myself.

I feel sweaty and sticky all over.

“Go rinse off,” he mutters, kissing my temple. “I’ll bring you some underwear and a nightshirt, and you can meet me in bed.”

“Okay.” I nod. “Thanks.”

He leads us out into the hall, and I head for the bathroom, pausing in the doorway to call back to him.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for interrupting me. I needed this.”

“Trust me, Winry. The pleasure was mine.”

I shake my head and turn away from him, going to the shower.

He can say that all he wants to, but the pleasant tenderness between my legs doesn’t lie. Besides, I came twice. That said, I know it makes Ed happy to make me happy, and he definitely made me happy tonight.

So, I’ll just have to return the favor when I get the chance.

#edwin #ero fic #edward elric #winry rockbell #edwin fic #fma #fmab #screwdriver #my edwin #fanfiction by me #fullmetal alchemist #otp: tears of joy