#and then give the raccoons a pep talk too

[listenupcupcakes]

SOLDIER! HAVE

A duck, her name is Nessie :)

THIS IS A RACCOON SANCTUARY NOT A DUCK SANCUTARY!

Too similar to geese!

…

OKAY SHE CAN STAY!

[queentheweeb]

Hanta Sero X Shy American Female Reader

A/N: You replace Mineta

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"Breathe L/N-chan you have nothing to fear." You were trying to give yourself a pep talk in your just freshly moved-in dorm room. Everything happened so fast that you really didn't have a chance to reflect on all the blessings that have been handed to you. Your parents were struggling in America, you guys were originally from Canada but moved to America when you were just two years old and now that you are 15 the three of you moved to Japan. The reason? Your father got a job offering 3 times the amount he was making in America and he took it. Plus you got accepted to Japan's most prestigious hero academy. You were sad that you were leaving your friends but, you had a video call and can always pen pal with them. In the span of 2 weeks, you took that 12-hour flight jet lag kicking your ass, and when you landed you guys were taken to your apartment. It was huge! It was half the price back in America but you guys had a big backyard with a pond that had turtles, koi fish, and some snails. You guys had a finished basement and an attic/crawl space. The culture shock and difference were all so much to handle. Once again you thanked GOD that both your parents were fluent in several languages and taught you how to speak 3 fluently which were English, Japanese and Spanish. "I'm thinking too much again, come on girl" You slapped your cheeks a few times grabbing your bag and ensuring that you have everything you needed. It's only been 2 days since you moved in since you got here when it's been a few weeks of classes already. You were caught up on everything that happened courtesy of all the U.A teachers aka Pro heroes. They weren't lying when they said that only active or retired pro's worked there and that the principal was a talking animal. Your head was spinning by the time all of that was over and you didn't have time to digest it! You had to make up as much work as possible while adjusting to constantly speaking Japanese, learning how to use transportation and vending machines, and other culture shocks. It was a mess but, at least your parents were struggling with you.

"Watch where you're going extra!" You jumped looking to see who in the hell is that loud and rude to a total stranger. You looked behind you and saw a very pissed-off blonde with red eyes scowling extremely hard at you. "AREN'T YOU GOING TO SAY SOMETHING FOR GETTING IN YOUR WAY!" He let off little explosions in his hand. Ah! He has the same quirk as you! Choosing to ignore the fact that this guy was crazy and could have easily walked around you with all the available space you showed him your quirk. You put both your hands up showing your explosions to him. Bad idea. "SO YOU THINK YOU'RE BETTER THAN ME HUH SHITTY EXTRA! I DON'T GIVE A FUCK IF WE HAVE THE SAME QUIRK I'M STILL GOING TO BE ON TOP!" You gave him such an incredulous look confused beyond comprehension. How the hell did he come up with all of that when you didn't even say a word??

"You're already picking a fight Bakubro." You jumped at the unexpected voices both of you turning around to see who it was. It was a group, a girl with pink skin and horns, a redhead, a yellow-haired one, and another one with a triangle smile. The red one hardened his face and arm when Bakubro? swung at him.

"SHE'S THE ONE THAT GOT IN MY WAY SHITTY HAIR" Is he incapable of calling people by their real names.

"With all this space? You just chose to walk behind her to see who she was hee hee" The pink-haired girl started laughing while dancing around to avoid him.

"DO YOU WANT TO DIE RACCOON EYES" First Shitty hair and now raccoon eyes? What was next?

"Anyway, I've never seen you around here, are you from one of the other classes?" The yellow-haired one was in your personal space making you red and stutter from the sudden attention.

"U-uh, my name is Y/N L/N I'm a transfer student and got accepted to U.A through recommendation. I am from America and I went to the number one hero school there." You don't know why you told random students that but okay.

"OOOO you're from America? How many languages do you speak?" You held up three fingers which earned you gasps while the ash Blondie was still seething.

"I'm sorry while my friends are talking a mile a minute." You were surprised to see the black-haired triangle-smile guy shove away the yellow-haired one and stand a foot from you "Allow me to introduce ourselves. I'm Hanta Sero, the pink one is Mina Ashido, the electric is Denki Kaminari the one holding up the angry chihuahua-"

"I'LL KILL YOU." You couldn't help but giggle as the red-headed one was struggling to hold him back.

"He's Ejirou Kirishima and the loudest one is-"

"DON'T YOU FUCKING TELL HER MY NAME." The unholy screeching that was coming out of his mouth made you wince. Did he just not give a fuck about his vocal cords?

"-Katsuki Bakugo" You nodded your head in understanding now. That's why they called him Bakubro.

"YOU FLAT FACED MOTHER FUCKER" He broke out of Kirishima's hold and started chasing the two of you. You have no idea why you were running with Sero but, it felt right considering he was pissed and looked ready to attack anyone.

"By the way what class are you in?" You both were running and not the slightest out of breath.

"I'm in Class 1-A" You looked at him and saw he had a really big smile on his face.

"That's the best news I've heard all day! We all are in Class-1A!" You beamed at him finally making it into the building and turning your sprint into a brisk walk with the others very close behind.

"I can't wait to get to know you all." You saw the door down the hall and it was still open meaning class didn't start yet

"I can't wait to get to know you." Sero gave you a thumbs-up with a wink making you giggle. You can already tell this is going to be an interesting year.

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A lot of potential for a part 2

[phoenixwrites]

16, 18, 19, 22, 30, 39 Hellcheer?

16. Can they stay up all night just talking?

Oh definitely. Obviously I see them in a very physical and tactile relationship (tee hee hee), but the first interaction we see between them in canon is a meaningful conversation. I could see them both being too exhausted from a long workday to do anything, but too tired to sleep, and just murmuring nonsense to each other and making each other giggle all night long.

18. How likely are they to have fur babies? How many and what kind?

I see them as dog people, mostly. I could see them both going to the humane society to get a dog and coming home with three, particularly the old dog with temperament issues that no one else wants.

19. How do they feel about PDA?

Despite my love of it fanfics, I see Eddie as totally fine with PDA (the guy walks across lunch tables and bellows out speeches, he doesn't give a shit), but I see Chrissy being much more shy about it. She was clearly uncomfortable when Jason declared his love for her at the pep rally. I think aside from holding hands and maybe a smooch or two, she wouldn't much like it.

22. What reminds each of their partner?

Metal music, fantasy books, guitars, weed--all of this would obviously remind Chrissy of Eddie.

I think for Eddie--cheerleading, apple cinnamon shampoo, daffodils.

30. Your OTP gets to pick out each other's outfits; what is each wearing?

I think Chrissy would jump at the opportunity to make him wear a suit or a tux, even just for a night.

I see Eddie as being uncomfortable with picking out Chrissy's outfits because it's too close a controlling trait that her mom would utilize. But if she insisted, he'd probably suggest something leather. Maybe a corset. Thigh highs. But only if she wants to!

39. Who would rescue an injured animal and nurse it back to health? What would the other think?

I see this as a Chrissy thing with Eddie gently teasing her about it. It's cute when it's a songbird or stray cat, it gets less cute when she brings home raccoons that destroy their den or a badger that bites the shit out of Eddie and forces him to get tested for rabies.

[just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

Sometimes I forget that writing is supposed to be fun and I can take as long as I want to.

See, now this right here is the beauty of tumblr.com. There’s no publisher breathing down your back, no manager or whoever emailing to ask when the rough draft will be ready. 

It’s you, your keyboard, and whatever document software you use. Want to take 3 months on something? Please do! You are under no rush whatsoever, and under no obligation! Popping pieces out in 30 minutes? First off, how the hell, but also rock on! Good for you!

If it’s not fun anymore; stop. This isn’t you job, this isn’t your education. This is something that you enjoy doing. Don’t keep walking on broken legs, yah know? 

I do it too! I’ve taken breaks from WIPs when they just weren’t fun anymore. That’s also why I keep starting new ones; because they’re exciting and fun and new! And guess what? After a little time you start to miss them and now, all of the sudden, they’re fun again! 

No obligation, no word count, no comparing, just the clicky-clack of fingers on a keyboard and the fun of writing down your stories. 

[bumblesimagines]

Green Thumb

Part 20

Request: Yes or No

~

"Time travel sounds fun until you see how cringy you used to be." You said, watching Nebula fix some things on the suit Scott had on.

"I've never been cringy." Scott said. You stayed silent in response, glancing at Rhodes. Scott blinked, scoffing softly as you giggled.

"You're great, Scott." You gave a tired smile. Bruce went to put in the red capsules.

"Hey- Hey, be careful!"

"I'm being very careful." Bruce replied.

"No, you're being very Hulky." Scott put in the capsules himself. Even if Bruce was careful, he could still crush whatever was in there without even thinking about it. It was weird seeing Bruce in Hulks body but you supposed it helped end the beef they had. Scott and Bruce went back and forth until he turned small and big in a second.

"Alright, one test run." Scott gave a sheepish smile, glancing at everyone in the room. "I'm not ready for this."

"I'm game." You turned your head, looking at Clint. You crossed your arms, a soft sigh leaving you.

"I'll do it." Clint shrugged. Scott licked his lips, looking at Bruce. Bruce gave him a small nod so Scott walked out of the room to change out of the suit. Clint followed.

"So.. He got a new tattoo." Rhodes glanced at you. You licked your lips, shrugging lightly. Rhodes sighed, leaving the room momentarily before returning with some twizzlers. He offered one to you, giving a small smile. You took it, taking a small bite from it as Clint walked into the room with the suit on. Nebula made sure everything was good with the suit.

"Clint, you're gonna feel a little discombobulated from the shift. Don't worry about it." Bruce told him.

"Wait, wait.. Let me ask you something. If we can do this, you know go back in time, why don't we just find baby Thanos and just.." Rhodes made a wrapping and squeezing motion.

"I mean, it's a solid idea. Baby Thanos was probably real ugly anyways." You said, chewing on the candy. Bruce stared at you and Rhodes in disbelief.

"First of all, that's horrible-"

"It's Thanos."

"And secondly, time doesn't work that way. Changing the past doesn't change the future."

"We go back and get the stones before Thanos gets them.. Thanos doesn't get the stones!" Scott said, shrugging. Rhodes nodded, motioning to him.

"Problem solved!"

"Bingo." Clint nodded as Nebula glanced at them, giving a small shake of her head.

"That's not how it works." She muttered.

"Anyways, who told you that?"

"Star Trek, Terminator, Time Cop, Time After Time, Wrinkle in Time, Hot Tub Time Machine-"

"So, any movie with time in the name." You said with a chuckle.

"Well, it doesn't work like that. If you travel to the past, that past becomes your future and your former present becomes your past." Bruce explained. You hummed, continuing to munch on the twizzler.

"If time travel works.. That means there's different versions of ourselves in different.. Dimensions, right? Like living things we've lived and making decisions we'll eventually make?"

"Yes, actually." Bruce nodded, glad that at least someone was getting it.

"For example, my past self might be in Sokovia fighting Ultron right now while my future self might be relaxing on a beach." Bruce said with a shrug. You hummed, nodding.

"I wonder what my future self is doing.."

"Probably getting therapy instead of napping and drinking." Rhodes muttered, glancing at you. You scoffed softly.

"You drink?" Clint questioned, brows furrowing as a frown tugged at his lips. You shifted your gaze back to the man you used to call dad and shrugged.

"Occasionally." Once the suit was good to go and Bruce had told Clint everything he needed to do, you followed the guys and Nebula to the platform Rocket had built. It was surprising how much a raccoon could built. You glanced at Thor, giving him a small nod. Bruce walked up to the controls, the others standing behind him as they watched Clint stand in the center.

"Alright, Clint.. We're going in three.. Two.." You could tell Clint was nervous, you were too. Despite everything, he had still been someone who took you in and loved you. You slowly chewed on the twizzler, gaze flickering around the platform. To Clint it could feel like hours but it would merely be seconds for you and the others. Clint suddenly appeared, falling on the ground. The helmet retracted as he panted. Natasha quickly rushed up onto the platform with you following incase he had injuries. Natasha helped him up, getting him grounded as Clint looked around.

"I saw her... I saw Lila again.." Clint panted. You stared at him, swallowing as your grip on the twizzler tightened. Clint tossed a baseball glove at Tony, nodding.

"It worked." Clint said. A sense of relief filled you along with everyone. There was a chance at getting everyone back. The team turned, heading to an office in order to talk more and come up with a game plan. You finished your twizzler, taking a seat and watching Tony pull up pictures of the stones.

"We gotta find out the when and the where." Steve said, looking over all of the stones.

"Almost everyone in this room has had at least one encounter with an infinity stone." Steve turned his attention onto everyone. You supposed Vision counted as an encounter.

"Or substitute encounter by being damn near killed by one of the stones." Tony added, shrugging as he sipped on his coffee.

"I haven't." Scott piped in. "I have no clue what the hell you're talking about."

"Regardless, we only have enough pinparticles for one trip each and these stones have been in a lot of different places throughout history." Bruce said, slowly walking around the office.

"Our history." Tony reminded him. "So, not alot of convenient spots to drop in."

"Which means we'll have to pick our targets." Clint muttered. Tony nodded, shooting him the side eye. You cocked a brow when you made eye contact with Tony. Tony simply patted your shoulder.

"Let's start with the ether. Thor, what do you know?" Steve asked, everyones' attention shifting onto the god of lighting. Thor sat in a corner, coke bottle in hand and sunglasses on.

"Is he asleep?" Natasha asked after Thor didn't answer. You stared at him. The last five years had definitely been rough for him.

"Pretty sure he's dead." Rhodes mumbled. You sighed, reaching forward and grabbing a cup of water. You made it turn ice cold before tossing it at the god. Thor jolted awake, looking down at his wet shirt.

"Thor, the reality stone. What do you know about it?" Steve asked again, watching him stand and approach the picture of the reality stone. You listened to Thors' rambling, turning to look at Tony. Scott was the only one interested in what he had to say. Tony approached him, urging him to sit.

"Alright.. Who's next?"

~~~~~~~~~~

You stared at the pictures. Three stones in New York, one in Asgard, and the other two in Morag. You looked at Steve as he approached the hologram.

"Alright, we have a plan. Six stones, three teams. One shot." Steve said. You swallowed, glancing at Rocket and Thor. You had been assigned on their team. Just in case. You stood up with the others, going off to change. You stared at the two pictures in your locker. One of the Barton family and the other of the Stark family. You headed towards the platform after changing, standing beside Thor and Rocket.

"Stay safe." Natasha said softly, giving your arm a squeeze. Steve gave a pep talk before you put your helmet on. You absolutely hated the feeling as you went through what looked like a blue tunnel. When you blinked, you were in Asgard. Thor held a finger up to his lips, passing by a room. You followed, glancing back and seeing his brother. You had never officially met Loki but he was an odd dude. You reached a hall, standing besides Thor. You listened to the women talk in the hall. You shared a look with Rocket.

"There's Jane." Thor whimpered, shaking his head. Rocket sighed.

"Alright.." Rocket hopped off the stone block, looking at you and Thor.

"You're gonna charm her, (Y/N) will be our lookout, and I'll poke her with this thing, get the stone, and we'll be gone." Rocket said, watching Thor. You gave a nod but Thor sniffled.

"I'll be right back. The wine cellar is just down here. My father used to have this huge barrel of ale." You stared at Thor, letting out a sigh as you scratched your forehead. You heard a door opening and quickly ducked besides Rocket.

"Yes, and could you also let me know when Gaia plans on visiting again?" You blinked, feeling your body freeze. You slowly stood, glancing at Thor as he slowly walked down the hall, gaze on the woman.

"Who's the fancy woman?" Rocket asked, hopping onto the stone. You swallowed, turning your head and looking at the woman.

"That's my mother..." Thor answered. Your eyes slightly widened, turning to face Thor. You opened your mouth to ask him a question.

"She dies today." Thor whispered. You shut your mouth, frowning. You licked your lips, gaze flickering around.

"How.. How does she know Gaia?" You asked softly. Thor glanced at you with furrowed brows.

"She was a friend of my mothers'." Thor answered. He looked back at where his mother had been, shaking his head.

"I can't do this." He breathed out, beginning to pant softly. You and Rocket faced him. Rocket told Thor to get closer as Thor rambled. You blinked as Rocket slapped him, almost laughing at the sight of a raccoon slapping a god.

"You think you're the only one who lost people? What do you think we're doing here? I lost the only family I ever had. Same with nature boy over here. I get you miss your mom, but she's gone. Really gone and there are plenty of people who are kind of gone. You can help them. So is it too much to ask that you brush the crumbs out of your beard, talk to the girl, and when she's not looking, suck the infinity stone and help us get our families back?" Rocket stared at him. Thor nodded, a small whimper leaving him as his eyes watered.

"Thor, calm down." You said softly, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "You're the god of lighting, Thor. You can do this."

"Yeah, yeah, I can." Thor nodded. You gave him a small smile, following Raccoon towards the door. You turned, hearing footsteps rushing away. You sighed.

"He's gone." You muttered. Rocket groaned softly.

"You go after him. I'll go get the stone." Rocket said, turning around and walking towards the room.

"I don't know this place." You huffed, looking at the talking raccoon. Rocket let out an exasperated sigh.

"Be my lookout." He mumbled. You walked towards the room Jane was in, watching Rocket enter. You stood infront of the doors, gaze flickering around. You had no idea what you were gonna do if somebody asked you what you were doing. You swallowed, glancing in the direction Thors' mother had gone in.

"He'll be fine." You assured yourself, speedwalking in the direction. You spotted Thor, quietly walking towards him.

"Thor-"

"Shh." He brought up a finger to his lips. Thor grabbed you, keeping you hidden behind the pillar as his mother passed by. She dismissed her girls. You and Thor peeked around the corner.

"What are you doing?" You flinched, letting out a yelp as a woman yelped as well. You turned and faced her, watching her look at Thor. Thor suddenly grabbed you, covering you with his jacket.

"You're better off leaving the sneaking to your brother." The woman said, head tilting.

"What are you wearing? Who is this?" She asked, stepping forward. You swatted Thor's arm away, clearing your throat.

"Uhm, I'm- I'm (Y/N)." You said. Rocket was gonna kill you.

"Frigga." She gave a polite smile. "What are you wearing?" Friggas' brows furrowed, looking Thor over. Frigga slowly approached her son, placing a hand on his cheek. Thor rambled slightly. Frigga smiled softly.

"You're not the Thor I know, are you?" She asked softly.

"Yes I am."

"The future hasn't been kind to you, has it?" She gently brushed some hair out of his face. You watched her, gaze softening. You could see why Thor loved his mother so much. They shared a tight hug, something Thor had desperately needed.

"Let's talk." Frigga smiled. You tuned out as Thor spoke to his mother. You walked around her room, looking over the glass. You licked your lips, looking over at them.

"How do you know Gaia?" You asked softly. Frigga turned to look you curiously.

"Like, uhm, Thor told me but I.. I wanna know more." You said, facing her. Frigga tilted her head, slowly approaching you.

"Gaia? What would you want with her?"

"She's my mother and she.. She kind of abandonded me." You shrugged lightly, letting out a small awkward laugh. Frigga hummed, gaze softening.

"Gaia's in.. It's hard to explain. She's in The Garden. She lives there and it's how she watches over her creations." Frigga explained.

"How do I get there?"

"Fairy rings. Only certain people have access to her portals." Frigga said. You nodded, keeping it in mind. Thor stood, approaching you and his mom.

"Mother, I must tell you something-"

"No, Thor." Frigga turned to face her son, pressing a finger to his lips.

"Mother-"

"Guys!" Rocket shouted, running towards you. "You were supposed to watch the door!"

"I know." You gave an apologetic smile. Rocket shook his head, showing the stone.

"I got it." He breathed out. "Oh, hey, you must be mom."

"I wish we had more time." Thor said softly. Frigga smiled gently, grabbing his hands.

"This was a gift. Now you go and be the man you were meant to be." Frigga said softly. Thor gave her a sad smile.

"I love you, mom."

"I love you." Frigga hugged Thor tightly. She pulled back and smiled. Rocket began to count but Thor stopped him. He extended his hand towards the balcony area. You and Rocket shared a look.

"W-What are we looking at?" He asked.

"It takes a second." Frigga chuckled softly. Thors hammer returned to him, making him beam. You smiled softly as the suit returned.

"Nice meeting you." You said.

"Same here." Frigga smiled, giving a small wave. The helmet came on and you went back through the nauseating blue tunnel. You grunted, shutting your eyes tightly.

"Yeah, fuck that." You muttered, rubbing your forehead. You looked around, noticing Clint fall to his knees with teary eyes.

"Where's Nat?"

~~~~~

Tags: @geek-and-proud @wolfelocksley @babyvisionisamenace @jjk-is-my-shit

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 14- New World Order

Summary: With the world back to it’s usual business, and the Avenger’s base on a long road to recovery. You and Bucky begin a new chapter in Brooklyn, New York City.

Warning: just fluff really, and some spicy talk maybe a little suggestive themes if you will

Masterlist

It’s been about three months since the events leading up to the dusting of Thanos’ whole army and the death of that giant purple bastard. Ninety-one days since Tony Starks funeral, and 2184 hours since your entire world changed for the better.

Although you’d be a sore liar if you said you didn’t miss your old life with everyone at the Avengers Facility. Even with such a dramatic new change to your life now, you miss Natasha, you miss your late night talks with Steve, and maybe you even miss that little shithead raccoon. But there has been an emerging inner peace with what you gained that just about outweighs your heavy losses.

Someone who’s brought you unconditional love and understanding in your blooming state, someone who’s helped to draw your grief and anguish out of your vessel and transform it into something golden and pure. Your sweet Bucky. If someone last year was to claim at this time you’d be living in an apartment in New York with the love of your life. Well, you’d probably have swiftly made them regret it.

But now, things are better, not one hundred percent fantastic and awesome. But so much better then yourself an entire year ago could ever have even imagined. And that’s good enough for you.

Staring intently down at your little houseplant, you gently spray it with a spray bottle before standing back to admire your caretaking skills. Not too bad. Not too bad at all. Face shifting to that of a stern army general, you get down real close to the leaves so that your face is mere inches from the soaked plant, “I hope you drink this up okay? Bucky thinks I’m gonna kill you and I’m not losing that bet to him. No sir, so don’t you die on me.” The tiny fern keeps silent for obvious reasons at your little pep talk, it’s green leaves protruding beautifully outward as you set the spray bottle onto the countertop.

“He’s gonna owe me fifty dollars if you last till October, and I don’t even care about the money. I just want bragging rights.” You whisper before standing up and wandering over to the living room window.

The city lights are glowing vibrantly in the nights atmosphere, cars and people alike traveling down below your apartment building, oblivious to the whereabouts of two Avengers a couple stories above their very heads. Two ex-assissins. Both products of Hydra. Damn you’ve got a loaded history.

“Y/N! Are you coming!” There’s a long pause of silence from your bedroom that causes you to open your mouth to answer, but before you’re able to say anything in reply, Bucky yells out, “Also I can’t find my white t-shirt, do you know where it is?! Actually never mind I’m going shirtless!”

You let out a humored snort before swiftly turning on your heel and walking down the hallway until you finally reach your bedroom door, “You know we have neighbors right?”

Bucky sends you a shy smile as he disappears into the bathroom for something, “I’m sure this place has thick walls.” He says while flipping up the ceramic toilet seat.

“Uh huh.” You mutter unconvinced, deciding to search his drawers for a spare sleeping shirt.

Noticing your snooping, Bucky finishes up before flushing the toilet and wandering out the door until he’s practically leaning against your shoulder, “Don’t you have clothes?” Questions Bucky with a small chuckle as you throw him a look.

“I need ones to sleep in.” You casually protest as he slowly nods, clearly not getting your admittedly vague point.

“Don’t you have one to sleep in?”

Picking out a grey shirt of his, you shut the dresser before taking off yours, “All my shit got destroyed when Thanos blew up the base. So I’m limited with the stuff I did buy.” He watches as you unintentionally flash him before pulling on his sleep shirt, “And I’m not exactly eager to be out and about right now. I’m still getting used to the new amount of people on this planet. Also I don’t like shopping......or people.”

Bucky nods in understanding as he follows you to the bed, though he can’t quit suppress his chuckles, “Okay fine.”

Throwing the blanket back, you raise a brow at him for that humored yet blunt remark, “Did you not want me to take this one?” You ask, speaking like you’re talking to a little puppy just to tease him more.

Rolling his beautiful blues, Bucky gets into bed as you do the same, “No. Its fine, I don’t actually care.”

Chuckling, you move to sit next to him as he lays on his back, “Good. Cause you’re shirtless and I think I like you better that way. Means I can tickle you easier.”

“Don’t you dare tickle me Y/N or I will lock you out of the bathroom again I swear.” Warns Bucky as he quickly pulls the blanket over his muscular body while you start laughing at him.

“I wasn’t gonna do that. No....definitely not.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Huh well, guess you won’t be able to cuddle me then if you don’t trust me...” Throwing the blanket off of him, Bucky quickly engulfs you into his strong arms as you squeak with surprise, pulling you down so that he can be the big spoon for tonight.

“Now you’re trapped.” Mumbles Bucky against your shoulder as his chest pushes at your back when he laughs. He thinks he’s so funny.

Holding his arm that’s pressed against your body, you gently pat it as he hums in content, “Buck, I’m thoroughly enjoying this actually so just keep your arm there, even if it falls asleep you’re not allowed to move it sucker. That’s the rules.”

“Well maybe I like those rules. Sucker.” Chuckles Bucky as you bite your lip to keep from laughing. “Now go to sleep, it’s been a long week.”

“Fine.” You mumble into the darkness as a yawn hits you right after. Soon your breaths become steady and calm as you both lay there for another thirty minutes. You are tired, it’s just, something keeps you awake that just can’t be satisfied if you keep going on like this.

“Hey.” You whisper, he gives a low hum in reply, “Buck, I forgot to tell you I have a cat.”

Opening an eye, he gently squeezes your stomach, “You have a cat? Y/N what....how...uh, where is this cat?

“I gave her to Morgan. So I guess she’s technically not mine anymore, I don’t know. Just felt like telling you that.”

“Thanks for sharing.”

“Anytime.”

The both of you go as silent as ghosts before erupting into a fit of giggles, he buries his face into your hair as his sweet laughter bounces off the walls of your room. Though soon enough does the both of your giggles die down to nothing more then the calming sounds of your breathing.

Your mind dwells with a growing fatigue though your body seems to want something else then slumber, sucking in a soft breath, you hum in thought before whispering, “Bucky.” Just to spark his curiosity.

“Yeah.”

“Uh,” Maybe you shouldn’t be asking this and just let him sleep, “how tired are you?” You ask him anyways.

He pauses for a moment before slowly answering with a mumbled, “Tired.”

You hum in acknowledgment, voice low as you answer him, “oh okay.” Immediately sparking his interest.

“Why?” Asks Bucky, intrigued with your slightly disappointed response.

“Nothing, you said you’re tired so we can sleep.”

Bucky’s head rises off of the pillow as he leans over you to try and look at your face, “Well now I wanna know so tell me.” States Bucky in curiosity before catching himself, eyes softer now, “Please.”

Sighing, you purse your lips together, knowing he’s still leaned against your shoulder but deciding to spill anyways as you half-sheepishly whisper, “I’m kinda horny.”

“Kinda?” Chuckles Bucky in an almost teasing manner as you snort.

“Listen you little shithead, I know we did it the other day but I haven’t had sex in five goddamn years give me a break for being a bit horny despite my sleepiness.” You sass, “I’m just, I’ve been feeling a lot of things since you’ve come back. And I yunno, didn’t wanna come off too strong at first so...uh...yeah.”

Bucky hums in thought, “Right, right....yeah.”

Maybe he is too tired? You let out a little huff of slight embarrassment before turning your head to face him better, “It’s just how I’m feeling right now but if you’re too tired that’s really fine with me okay Buc...oh uh...mhmm...” Your worries lost to the wind as his fingers begin slipping underneath your shirt, plush lips pressing feather light kisses against your neck to shut you up from your restless mind. His digits graze over your hardened nibble before Bucky pulls your body flush to his, stubbled chin pressed against your shoulder as he plants a tiny kiss there.

You smile into the darkness when his kisses trail up from from your shoulder to your neck and finally your cheek, he slowly turns you onto your back as his lips plant butterfly kisses all over your face as you begin chuckling at how undeniably adorable he’s being right now. Mhmm hmm you could get used to this.

His arms slip from out of your sleep shirt, soon trapping you to the bed as he hovers over your heavenly vessel, granting you with a plethora of lovely kisses all over your heated skin like he’s exploring you for the first time all over again. Your hands instinctively trail through his shortened dark locks while he draws your legs apart with his muscular torso, doing everything to further spark your growing excitment.

Tonight will indeed be wonderful.

——

Waking up from out of a decently pleasant slumber, you suck in a deep breath to awaken the senses for the day, hands feeling around the rumpled up sheets for your snuggle buddy only to find nothing but an empty bedside. He’s gotten unbelievably good at sneaking out of bed it’s honestly one of the most impressive things he can do.

Your eyes scan the semi-closed window shades to reveal a glowing darkness, it’s only 5:00am, and you know exactly where he’s gone off to even after keeping him up for half the night. Instantly you’ve slipped out of bed, not bothering to turn on the lights as you quietly wander down the hallway until you reach the living room.

Past the small kitchen, and to the left of the single lounge chair, there he is. Snoozing like a meaty log of pure muscle and Vibranium as he lays on a thin blanket flush against the hardware floor. Another blanket covering his lower half as he shifts a bit in his sleep, he’s restless. Your eyes soften at your lover, he’s been doing this recently since Steve left and the world sucked Bucky back into reality. You’ve had plenty of time to adjust of course, but for Bucky, he’s had three months since you two parted from the comfort of Wakanda to live in America as part-time Avengers.

Technically he’s only free from the government and jail time for that matter because he was pardoned by the president and thus was forced to agree upon attending mandated therapy for everything the Winter Soldier did in the past. While you on the other hand were pardoned for war crimes and your involvement with the terrorist organization Hydra because of your status as an Avenger.

Also you’re technically only still allowed to live in the United States because you live with Bucky, who is conveniently from America, so you get a free pass as long as you two plan on residing under the same roof. So it works out for you.

Suddenly his labored breaths quicken and a second later he jolts awake, now drawing himself into a seated position as little beads of sweat shine in the light of the glowing television screen that shows some unimportant sports game.

His chest rises and falls before his blue eyes blink back the vivid fuzziness of his latest nightmare, gaze slowly shifting over to you once he realizes another body is near him. When his irises catch you in the full glow of the tv, he immediately lowers his head in slight embarrassment.

“Did I wake you up again?” Mutters Bucky, almost sounding like he’s mad at himself for letting you find him like this once more.

Shaking your head, you swiftly move to seat yourself at his level before leaning your back against the lounge chair, “You never wake me up Bucky, I think I have a sixth sense for you or something cause when you leave I just know.” You chuckle lightly as he shifts himself closer to you, “Also I miss you next to me.”

His head presses against the corner of the chair as he leans down to leave a light kiss on your shoulder, “I’m sorry. I just.....I don’t want to startle you when I’m having a nightmare and wake up, well, like that.”

Turning to face him, you reach a comforting hand up to gently run it through his shortened dark hair, “You can’t scare me off that easily Barnes. I could probably be classified as the monster under your bed if we’re talking about scary things at night.”

He reveals the ghost of a smile while leaning into your touch, “I know Y/N, it’s just not fair that I do this more then I should. You shouldn’t have to wake up all alone after living like that for five fucking years....I shouldn’t be doing this.”

“oh James..” You whisper while scooting closer so that your bent knees are against his own, hand now snaked down so that you can intertwine your hands with his, “...it’s not your fault the nightmares are coming back. And as much as I miss having you near me, sometimes we all need our space when things get internally rough. I get it, believe me. But don’t ever feel sorry okay? You have nothing to say sorry for, at least not to me alright?”

Bucky nods, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze while he shows the flash of a smile, “Okay.” Whispers Bucky, eyes falling down to your intertwined fingers before he finds your gaze once more, “Let’s go to bed, the sun will be up soon and I have a therapy session today.”

“Therapy is good for you Bucky.”

He rolls his eyes as you laugh at his annoyed expression, “You are my therapy.” Protests your lover before standing and pulling you up with him.

Hugging his torso affectionately, you smirk up at him, “Wrong answer James.” Holding back a genuine grin, he simply leans down to press his lips against yours. Doing his best to shut you up from further mentioning his required therapy sessions that he absolutely loathes to attend. 

——

Hands stuffed deep within your jacket pockets, you wander in step with Bucky who brushes his right arm against yours every couple of steps on the cement sidewalk of Brooklyn. You patiently waited the full forty-five minute session for him, knowing all too well that the second he walked out of there and saw your beautiful face. He’d be significantly less grumpy then before, just as you’d suspected.

Turning your head to face him, he keeps looking straight ahead though he’s aware enough to know you’re about to say something about the session, “You didn’t mention the nightmares did you.” Bucky huffs, annoyed at getting so easily caught by your observant intellect about him. You can read him like a book.

“No.” A blunt answer, he knows there’s no point in lying. “She thinks I need to call more people. Be more social or something.....it’s stupid.” He grumbles to himself though your ears catch it all the same.

You hum in agreement, “Well it wouldn’t kill you to call Sam, I know he tries to text you sometimes...”

“Does he text you?”

“Yeah.” You reply before playfully nudging his arm, “And unlike you, I answer. He’s just a concerned friend, which is nice, you need those kind of people.”

“I don’t need anyone but you Y/N. I’m good, really.”

Rolling your eyes, you snort as he throws you a half offended look, “Babe, I love you. But it’s admittedly a good thing to have other friends other then me. I know this from experience as we both know, so, give him a call sometime okay? For me.”

“Ugh, fine.” He begrudgingly mutters, “But only for you, that’s it.” Smiling brightly at him, you’re about to add something else when the sounds of your friend Yori rings loud in the bustle of the city as he argues with his annoyance of a neighbor, Unique. Something about trash and putting it in the wrong bin.

Bucky soon comes to the rescue and quickly puts an end to the argument before Yori decides to throw hands and gets himself in trouble. The stubborn old man gives up on his yelling and soon Bucky is able to convince him to get lunch with the two of you.

To the sushi place you go.

“Nobody made it past 90 this week.” Says Yori sadly as you lean against Bucky’s shoulder to catch a glimpse of the newspaper that he’s holding in one hand while you use your chopsticks to stuff a chunk of sushi in your mouth.

“So young. Such a shame.” Mutters Bucky with a shake of his head while he takes another bite of his meal.

“You guys didn’t order the usual, huh? Feeling a little adventurous?” Smiles Leah as you take a sip of your water, she loves when you three come in during her shift. Honestly she’s heard a lot of your complaining over the last couple weeks, though it’s usually just about some city annoyance since you don’t want to scare her off with all the real shit you’ve dealt with. You’re trying to make friends after all.

You acknowledge her with a raise of your drink before setting it on the glass counter, “Oh yeah, I like to live a little on the wild side..” You add with a laugh, “..unfortunately I tend to drag them along with me.”

Yori nods, “I enjoy the adventure.” Before pointing to Bucky, “It’s him right here who is scared of getting his feet wet.”

Leah laughs at the adorably confused face of Bucky as he sends the old man a look while you snicker in amusement. “Yori.” Warns Bucky without an once of aggression while you give his shoulder a gentle squeeze of affection.

“What?” Protests Yori, “I am right and you know it. Y/N am I not right?”

“Oh, you’re definitely not wrong.” Bucky pouts as you give his stumbled cheek a light peck, eyes set back onto your delicious sushi as he pretends to be annoyed by you and and Yori’s teasing.

The three of you continue to chomp down on your weekly lunch days meal at the usual sushi spot for another minute longer. Yori’s eyes suddenly sparking with a thought that you know he’s absolutely not going to keep to himself.

“You know what?” Whispers Yori as he leans in closer to Bucky, quit obviously pointing a finger towards you though you simply ignore them as he continues, “You better treat your woman well okay? She’s a good one...Ah I have a perfect idea. You go on a date, like dancing or....or, bingo.” Suggests the old man as your smile grows.

Bucky’s brows furrow as he whispers back, “We’re already dating.”

Yori nods, “You misunderstand my point, you must keep the flame going always okay? Very important, very important. When was the last time you gave her flowers huh? Went to the park? Whooed her..”

“I bought her a plant.” Says Bucky defensively as he side eyes you, “I, I whoo her.”

The old man smiles, “Good, good. That’s how you keep them around for a long time. Don’t forget that, I know what I’m talking about.”

“I’m sure you do.” Mumbles Bucky as you suppress the urge to laugh at their adorable conversation about how to treat a significant other right. That significant other being you.

——

Seated crisscrossed on the wooden floor of yours and Bucky’s shared apartment, a single thin blanket underneath you, your eyes squint suspiciously at Bucky like you don’t believe a single thing he’s saying. He’s seated on a pillow across the small coffee table, raising a dark brow at you while he holds back a growing smirk.

Your eyes soon shift down to the board before slowly trailing over his forced stoic face, “Well, Mr. Barnes....you’re a strong captain I’ll admit. But I am a skilled sea traveler of my own. E7.” His blue irises flicker down to his board, expression shifting ever so slightly in irritation, you got him.

Biting his lip, his hands move from behind the plastic board of the game that you can’t see, “How about that.” States Bucky with a genuinely impressed nod, “You sunk my battleship.”

Instantly your hands ball into fists, “Yessss.” You whisper joyously as your eyes squint in happiness for your first ever win against the literal master of Battleship. “Ha ha sucker! I won! I fucking won!” You shout with passion as he leans back on one arm to watch you jump up into a theatrical victory dance. God he loves you so much. You dangerous little goofball.

Swinging your arm dramatically in a circle, you shake your hips before winding down your dramatics to wander on over to Bucky who’s still seated on the floor, shimmering blues never leaving yours. Smirking victoriously, you crouch down to meet his humored gaze, “I think I deserve a prize.....and by prize I mean you get me those gummy worm things from the corner store. I deserve it after all.”

He tilts his head, the corners of his mouth rising as his eyes flicker to your lips for a brief moment, “Do you now?” He smiles lovingly though a sudden mischief sparkles in his eyes.

“Yes. This was the first time I ever won so I definitely deserve some type of reward for my efforts.” You state justly, eyes narrowing as you add, “Or I will battle you, and I’m not talking about the game.”

Bucky tilts his head up, an alluring smile playing at his plush pink lips while his eyes flicker to your mouth once again, oh he is certainly not going to get you naked in an attempt at swaying your mind from those gummies. You’re an ex-assassin who deserves some damn gummies every once in awhile. And his ass is gonna get you them, it’s only fair after all.

“Y/N.” Coos Bucky in that sultry voice of his, metal hand reaching up to touch your beautiful face, but as his fingers come within an inch of your precious skin. You shoot a hand up to clasp against his in an iron grip, blue eyes immediately going big when you tuck and roll. Taking his whole body with you.

In the swift aftermath, you’re able to skillfully pin him to the ground with relative ease. Both your hands pressed firmly against his naked wrists as you lean your face mere inches from his own, “I warned you, didn’t I?” You tease playfully as he breaks out into an inviting grin.

“I have something else in mind that you’ll absolutely love.” Assures Bucky with a telling expression that does nothing to hide the lust that flashes through them.

“In that case, pin me to the floor. And I’m all yours for the evening.” You whisper slyly as he practically shivers underneath your touch, “But if I win, you gotta travel two blocks for those delicious bitches. Khorosho, lyubov' moya?” You add in your native tongue of Russian, translating to “okay, my love” before pressing your forehead against his, eyeing him up like a bull ready to fight.

Bucky lets out a little sigh, something between annoyance and pleasure, “Fine. But you’re going dow...” Your lips crash against his in a hot second of passion before you quickly pull away, letting go of his wrists as you move to stand in a defensive position nearby.

Slowly blinking, he lets out a little huff before pulling himself to his full height, eyes trailing over you as he raises a brow, “Now that wasn’t fair.”

You casually shrug, “What wasn’t fair? We made a deal Barnes.”

Bucky rolls his eyes at your teasing, “You know what I...okay, okay. We’re really doing this?”

You shrug at his adorable expression, “You either have to walk 2 blocks in the dark for my treat, or a night of undeniably fantastic sex is within your reach. Not that I wouldn’t enjoy it, it’s the principle of the thing here. So, I’m going to fight you James Buchanan Barnes.” Oh and you used his full name too, Bucky knows without a doubt, it’s on.

He reveals a little smirk at that, “Guess I don’t have much of a choice. Hmm alright hot stuff let’s do this.” Muses your lover as he draws his hands up into fists, ever so slowly approaching you like a wary predator to their opposing rival. Not so sure if this is going to be a fight he can win or not, well, it sure won’t be an easy one.

When he’s within arms reach, you swiftly duck under his swift jab to your right arm, shooting a leg out to push him away from you while your body twists around to meet him. “Cheap shot.” Mumbles Bucky, calculated gaze studying your every movement as you slowly wander closer to him.

Looking as innocent as ever, “I want some gummy worms, I’ll break you little man.” Accent dripping with every word, further arousing Bucky though he tries to play it off with a laugh and a shake of his head.

Soon the two of you engage in a swiftly heated battle of hand to hand combat showing your admittedly intense skills of what only a former assassin could display so fluidly. Your two bodies moving like seasoned dancers across the hardwood flooring of your apartment, though you’re surprisingly able to keep relatively quiet as he blocks your fists. Can’t disturb those pesky neighbors.

Bucky shifts left just as you narrowly scrape your right elbow against his shoulder with a high jab from your elbows desperate upper cut, you slide on the hardwood under the false presumption that he’s out of reach when his flesh arm swings out to catch you in your stomach with a loud hollow thud. Ouch!

Instantly your throat emits a strange squeak as you feel the air knocked out of your precious lungs, clearly you had not anticipated this turn of events and neither does Bucky who immediately looks like he just accidentally stepped on a puppies little paw. “Y/N!” Worries Bucky with wide eyes as you keep hunched over, trying to suck in some needed oxygen.

Pulling some air into your lungs, you pretend to hobble over to the couch like a beaten down boxer, “Mm hmgood, yep.” You rasp out, resting your upper half on the couch as Bucky quickly approaches your side. But before he’s able to lay a comforting hand onto your shoulder, you swing a decorative pillow right at his head.

The puffy fabric knocks him onto his ass, earning a surprised grunt in the process as you tower above him, smirking like a trickster goddess over a poor lost and lonely traveler. Bucky rubs his reddened cheek, brows furrowed as he whines, “Y/N.” Like a little child who just got something taken from them by another kid.

Smirking a satisfied grin, you kneel down to meet his level, raising up a hand to gently draw his chin upwards to face you better, “That hurt you dickhead.” You muse as Bucky pouts, “ Y/N, I didn’t mean too..”

“I know.” You chuckle, “Now make it better.” You slyly add with a suggestive implication in your tone that causes Bucky to raise a brow. Letting go of his stubbled chin, you seat yourself onto the floor, facing Bucky as he reaches his metal hand out to pull you in closer to him.

Just about shoulder to shoulder with him, he gently presses his Vibranium hand to your cheek before pulling your face closer to his, soon the two of you lock lips with one another as his other hand snakes around to pull you onto him.

Ever so gently do you follow him to the floor as he continues to passionately make out with you like there’s no tomorrow. Metal and flesh hand feeling you up from your breasts to your bum as you straddle your man, hands trailing through his shortened hair while he fully enjoys this new positioning and turn of events.

Bucky presses wet kisses all around your cheeks and lips while he begins nonchalantly unbuttoning your pants, clearly hoping this will continue further and that all thoughts of those delicious gummy worms are out the door. You won’t lie to yourself though, caging Bucky’s thick torso underneath your opened legs is an admittedly pleasant experience to say the least.

So when he snakes his hands up under your shirt and starts messaging your breasts through the fabric of your bra, your mind begins thinking of some other things a bit more important then some simple treat from the local corner store. He knows just how to turn his favorite lover into a pile of puddy with nothing more then his mouth and fingers. This little shithead isn’t even inside you yet, you’re not even naked for goodness sakes!

But alas, a bet is a bet, and you don’t like to lose. Smirking into the kiss, and holding back a moan as Bucky’s digits squeeze your soft breasts, you tug on his hair before pulling away from his pleasantly inviting lips. Earning a palpable pout of confusion from your man, who’s noticeably grown hard against your bum.

“Y/N?”

“Bucky.” You tease back, imitating his voice once again as he throws you a puzzled look, “Don’t give me that shit Barnes I know what you’re trying to do.”

“And what am I trying to do?” Sasses Bucky as he rests his hands onto either side of your hips.

You raise a brow down at him, “These shenanigans.”

Bucky smiles, head falling back onto the floor as he laughs, “That’s not, no I’m not doing any shenanigans I swear....I just, maybe I just want to show my girl how much I love her.” Replies Bucky, though you stay unconvinced.

“We had a deal remember?”

“Yeah well, none of us won so..”

“Oh really?” You challenge, “Then why are you on your back and I’m right here as the victorious one? Who by the way has earned her gummy worms fair and square James Buchanan Barnes.”

Bucky groans, “oh come on Y/N....I can’t go now. Have some pity on me please?”

“And why not?”

He gently gives your hips an affectionate squeeze, “Because, my beautiful she-wolf who I love so very much and cherish every day of my life forever and alw..”

“Get to the point I want those damn gummies.” You threaten with a stern look though he knows you don’t truly mean it of course, but he has successfully annoyed you. “What is the problem this time?”

Bucky throws you a sheepish grin as he takes one of your hands in his, “Because I’m hard.” Sincere and straight to the point.

Pursing your lips together in amused irritation, you remove his hand from your hip, “Well, you did that to yourself babe I can’t help how amazing I am just existing. Really get over yourself.” You playfully tease before standing above him as his eyes never once leave your beautiful face, “Those gummies aren’t going to buy themselves.”

Bucky sighs dramatically shaking his head as he whispers, “You’re a monster of the greatest evil.” Smiling like a lovestruck idiot despite his neutrally spoken words.

You chuckle, stepping over him to pick up a pillow, “That’s me. Now don’t give me a reason to show you my claws.”

He quickly rises to his full height, another fallen pillow in hand as he tries to hide his hardened member behind it like some shitty magic act, “I’m just, I’m gonna hold this pillow for you. Not important why.”

“Uh huh.” You muse as he watches you clean up Battleship, putting all the pieces away and into the particular box before shoving it underneath the couch. When you go to fold the furniture's decorative blanket, a knock is heard at the door.

“Not it.” Mutters Bucky as you throw him an annoyed glance, already aware of who this is by their familiar scent. You walk over to the door and open it as Bucky hides in the background, pillow still covering his tented crotch.

“Hello Mrs. Brego you need help with your windows again?” You speak in Italian to your neighbor from down the hall. The old woman smiles before giving you a little shake of her head indicating a no.

“No dear, just telling you there’s cops downstairs for that guy from Chicago I think, so if you plan on going out. I wouldn’t choose tonight, the whole lobby is filled with people I think he might have been into drugs.” Warns the sweet old woman as you slowly nod, knowing all to well that Bucky most certainly heard everything.

Faking a smile, you shrug, “Wasn’t planning on going out tonight anyways. Well, thanks again. See you when I see you.” She smiles brightly before turning to walk down the hallway and into her own apartment, you watch until she shuts her door just to make sure nothing bad happens on your time.

Feeling comfortable that’s she’s fine, you shut and lock the door, pursing your lips as you turn around to face a smirking Bucky. He’s still holding the pillow against his junk, but he looks incredibly full of himself standing there with that stupidly handsome face of his. Those eyes. That smile. His body......no, focus.

Bucky goes to open his mouth but before he can say something sarcastic you throw a hand up to stop him, “Not a word.” You deadpan before turning to walk down the hallway, stopping yourself to glance over your shoulder, “Give me five minutes and then you can come to bed. But you better be naked or else.”

Bucky snorts as you practically swagger down the short hallway and into your shared bedroom. Closing the door as you prepare yourself for a late night of adventuring each others bodies.

Oh tonight will be something indeed.

-

Tagged: @diegos-butt  @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @lilacs-lavender @a-girl-who-loves-disney @starkssnarks @vikingqueen28 @bizarrebibitch @atomicpersonacheesecake @jmstz @staygoldsquatchling02 @marvelbros-oneshots @shawnartmendes @mischiefmanaged71 @jckie94 @iamasimpingh0e @mjaudrey​   @thescarlettvvitch

[yourmcu]

Wish You Were Here (ii)

Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader, Peter Parker x Stark!reader (platonic)

Summary:

an Infinity War/Endgame AU where Tony Stark’s daughter (you) is one of half the population that vanishes in the snap, Tony finds out later on when he arrives back to Earth, devastated, then you come back like the others to help fight Thanos.

Word count: 3,115

A/n: (moved to the end of the fic!)

Warnings: angst, death, swearing, Morgan’s a cutie! and no seriously I miss him so much

read it on ao3!

Part 1

gif not mine! credits to the owner^^

Just like the others, you were brought back when the Avengers succeeded in retrieving all the infinity stones.

You're laying on the ground at the same place you were last time: Wakanda. Once you gain consciousness you struggle to get up, your legs wobbly.

“Hello?” You call out, but you're alone, can’t even contact anyone since your suit is out of power. You have no clear memory of what happened, just that you had an anxiety attack while Natasha held you, then you blacked out and - that’s it.

You felt a strong breeze and footsteps behind you.

“[Y/N] Stark,” a man’s voice says. “Come with me.”

The man is ancient looking, had a cape and his facial hair weirdly reminds you of Tony’s. “Who are you? And how long was I out?” You look at a sparking yellow portal far behind him, “did you do that?”

“Stick together and stick with Wong,” the man calls out before the portal closes. You have no idea who he was talking to since they already got in. “Doctor Stephen Strange. We need to find Pepper Potts and... get you suited.”

“I already am suited it’s just - no juice. What’s going on?”

“It’s been five years. It’s time, your father and the others need our help to defeat Thanos,” Doctor Strange opens up another portal to an unfamiliar cabin. Your eyes light up at the mention of Tony. “Quickly. We do not have much time.”

Five years? Unbelievable. That’s just insane. You like sleeping a lot but you couldn’t imagine being asleep for five long years.

“Are - are you sure we’re in the right pla - okay, sorry, don’t have much time, yeah,” you knock on the door when Doctor Strange gives you a stern and impatient look. It gets answered right away.

“[Y/N]? Oh my god,” Pepper says breathlessly. You could feel her sobbing while she hugs you tightly.

“Hey, you guys didn’t tell me you moved,” you frown. “Is all my stuff here? Mr. Strange wants me to get ready and this isn’t the only suit I have-”

“Doctor Strange.”

“It’s upstairs, last room on the left,” Pepper smiles as she wipes her tears. You nod and went up the stairs as the magic doctor told her everything.

All your stuff were in boxes and your spare iron suit was standing in a corner. You wiped away the dust off and checked if it was in good condition. It was ready to go.

You quickly charged the weapons and blasters on the suit, and you still needed to-

You hear a small gasp from behind the door.

Confused, you turn around to see a girl with an amazed smile on her face. “Y/N!”

You cautiously walk over to the small girl, “yeah, I’m Y/N, what’s your name?”

“Morgan,” she replies, then her eyes widen as she hides something behind her back. “Daddy said I can borrow your stuff as long as I put it back. They all look really cool.”

You still aren’t sure, but you start to put the pieces together in your mind: you were ‘gone’ for five years, this girl is living with Pepper, and if you guessed right, ‘daddy’ is Tony.

She’s your sister.

“It’s okay, and thanks,” she gives you a small hug which you return slightly, you feel a smile growing on your face since you find her really precious. “It’s nice to meet you, Morgan.

“Hey, so, there’s this weirdo man downstairs and he wants me and Pep - mom to do an errand for him,” you say to her once you remember you have to go. Morgan nods understandingly, “we can play and catch up when I get back, okay? That’s a promise.”

She runs back to her room and you get suited up, power at its maximum.

“Welcome back, Ms. Stark.”

“Glad to be. I missed you - actually, how Dad’s doing? Is he alright?”

“Mr. Stark had a concussion earlier, but as of now he is waking up again.”

“Oh,” you exhale and start worrying about him a bit. “Okay. That’s fine, I guess,”

Once you go back down a portal was already open and a nanny by the door (you assumed for Morgan). You fly right in before it closed up.

“Holy shit.”

There's armies coming out of many different portals, from people to aircrafts, to mutants. You all gather at the Avengers compound, or what used to be the compound.

“I forgot to mention,” you point out and Pepper turns to you, “That’s a pretty badass suit.”

You could feel Pepper roll her eyes from inside her suit. You follow her as she flies all the way to the front.

Your eyes dart everywhere to look for Tony. And there he is, getting up from the ground and flying back to the Avengers. He looks worn out, ragged, tired; you notice before his iron head covered him up. There’s so many people that you doubt he even saw you. God, you miss him so much.

Cap, Thor, Rhodey, Clint, Peter, Wanda, Bucky, Sam, Bruce - or Hulk, everyone was there, but where’s Natasha?

“Avengers!” Cap shouts, a hand extended as he catches Mjolnir without stumbling - whoa, what? - “assemble.”

That’s it. The battle begins.

It's your first time using your backup suit, you obviously didn’t have the time to test it out first. Good thing it works fine.

You're flying around, shooting enemies whenever they get in your way and helping anyone on your side who needed it.

What got you confused (not that you were complaining) was how the other Avengers were a bit too happy to see you than they normally should. You brushed it off though, they probably just love you so much like you love them.

“Aye, mind if you launch me? I need to be over there,” a raccoon holding a gun states and pointed to the direction. You recognize him immediately.

"Sure thing, bud,” you obliged, grabbing him, levitating off the ground and to thrust your iron arm forward like a cannon.

After a while the battle died down a bit and you saw Tony embracing Peter in a distance.

You smile sadly. Peter’s your best friend, but you really wish that it’s you who Tony was hugging.

Your jealousy fades when one of those giant flying Chitauri makes its way to their direction, ready to attack.

“Friday, activate the mega blaster,” you fly closer to the pair.

“Which one?” For fuck’s sake, Friday,

“The biggest one, please, now!” Once the blaster's out, you aim at the monster who's literally meters away from Tony and Peter and fire. When it crashes to the ground lifeless, you land beside them.

“Sorry, that was,” you pant, opening up your iron helmet. “It was literally going to eat you guys, so, uh, sorry for ruining the moment.”

Peter smiles, nodding and Tony looks at you as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.

He hadn’t seen you in so long that your sudden presence fucking took his breath away. You're here, alive and back. If you guys weren’t in such a situation he’d go on and tell you about all the things you missed.

“I’m probably in trouble, right? I mean.. look Dad, I’m in a battlefield,” you laugh nervously, shooting a creature from the corner of your eye. “In my defense, Doctor Strange was the one who came to me, I didn’t-”

You're cut off when Tony wraps his arms around you. Right now he didn’t care about your excuses as to why you were here. But if Tony from five years ago could see you now he’d definitely ground you for life and take away your lab privileges.

“You’re doing great.” his voice slightly muffled from the hug. You let out a squeak, not expecting that from him at all. Tony smiles and plants a kiss to your forehead. “I love you, kid.”

“I love you too, Dad.”

The battle carries on and you're being swarmed by more enemies. You got really beaten up as it went on - what really knocked you out was when Thanos’ spaceship rained fire.

Unable to get shelter, you try your best to dodge everything that came out of the ship. You could barely see anymore because of the chaos and the clouds of dust everywhere.

“Ms. Stark, you need to get somewhere safe! Your heart rate is also increasing dangerously fast.”

“Not - not helping, Fri-” you get cut off when one of the blue fires hit you on the head, sending you to the ground unconscious.

----

“[Y/N], come on buddy, you need to get up,” Peter. He found your body a while after he handed the gauntlet to Captain Marvel. The battle's still ongoing, but he’s focusing on keeping you away from it while he waits for you to wake up.

You quickly sit up and gasp for air, looking at your best friend. “Did we win? Did we - wait, Peter, look out!” You push him out of the way when a group of monsters make their way to both of you. They turn into dust before they could lunge forward, however.

“...what the..?”

He helps you up and the both of you run to where Rhodey and Tony are at. You nearly break down when you see the state he's in.

“Mr. Stark? Hey - Mr. Stark? It’s Peter... and look, Y/N’s here- she’s okay, sir-” While Peter tries to talk to him you kneel down beside him, placing a hand on his arm while you do your best not to cry.

Then he looks at you, mouthing it’s okay.

But you know it isn’t. On your part, anyway. It seems really selfish but you don’t know what you’d do without him. Tony has always been there for you, he always kept you going.

Pepper kneels beside you, gave you a reassuring look before looking at her husband. “Friday?”

“Life functions critical.” That makes you whimper, pulling yourself closer to Tony.

“Tony, look at me. We’re going to be okay. You can rest now.”

You nod, sniffling, resting your head on his shoulder lightly. “I love you. I’ll take good care of Morgan, dad. Don’t worry.”

When the light of his arc reactor goes out, that’s when both you and Pepper break down, comforting each other around Tony’s lifeless body.

----

Dresses really weren’t your thing. So were skirts and shorts. But you wore a short, black dress for Tony’s funeral. You didn’t care if you weren’t comfortable, it was for him. You’d do anything for him.

You barely got any sleep since the battle, you couldn’t now that he was gone. It didn’t feel right. You had no idea how to cope, how you could move on from this.

What made things worse is when Steve and Thor told you about what happened to Natasha, that’s why you didn’t see her in the battle. She gave her own life just to get everybody else back.

You must’ve zoned out again because Rhodey and Pepper are now setting something up in the living room. An Iron Man helmet.

“S’that going to be new decoration?” You force out a chuckle, sniffling afterwards, sitting down on the sofa behind them.

Iron Man’s eyes light up when Rhodey presses a button. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. Tony sitting on a chair, a hologram.

He turns it off before hologram Tony could say a word. “That’s,” he sighs, “that’s for later.”

“I can’t do this,” you get up, running a hand through your hair. “I can’t. I’ll - I’ll break down, I know I will. Can I take a walk? Please?”

“Take your time.” Steve gives you a comforting smile.

Pepper nods. “Some air would do you good. Be back when it’s time, okay?”

You take longer calming yourself down in the woods near the cabin. You cried, you mumbled to yourself, paced back and forth,

Cause a picture is all that I have, To remind me that you're never coming back  If I picture it now it just makes me sad And right now I just wish you were here.

You stop when you heard leaves crunching. Peter just arrived, along with his aunt.

“Hey,” Peter silently greets, pulling you into a hug. It's obvious he isn’t getting any sleep either. “Are you okay?”

“Of course not,” you murmur, pulling away. “I should probably head back inside.”

“I’ll see you in a bit.”

You slowly walk to the porch, stopping when you hear Tony’s voice inside. You decide to just wait outside the door, you definitely don’t want to see his face, not right now, it'd be too painful.

“If we pull this thing off, and get everyone back,” Tony pauses. “Tell [Y/N] I left something in her room, yeah?”

Then he does the secret rhythm to a clap only the both of you memorized and knew.

You assume he’s done, since you don’t hear his voice anymore after that. Everyone goes out of the house and you hold Morgan’s hand as all of you walk to the lake for one last goodbye.

After that you talked to everybody who came for a while. Bruce, Steve, Clint and Thor tried to get you to look at the bright side, which you appreciated, you met the rest of the guardians who came, Doctor Strange who gave you a sympathetic look and apologized for your loss, and the guy you remembered Tony told you about, the one who helped him when his suit powered down and got stranded years ago. You made a mental note to ask him to hang out with you and Peter sometime.

“Hey... I’m heading to bed now,” you inform Pepper, Happy and Rhodey (both men were staying at the cabin for a few days) who're in the living room staring at the fireplace.

Before you go to your own room you check up on Morgan, who’s fast asleep. She's wearing her little Iron Man glove, pressed to her chest. She doesn’t deserve this.

Your room is still unpacked and they just sort of removed your bed from the compound and moved it here. You sit on the bed, already thinking of ways to move on that you know wouldn’t work anyway.

You remember your father claimed he had something for you here, so taking a deep breath, you clap the secret rhythm,

“Dad... you’ve gotta be kidding me,” you whine, covering your face with both palms.

Another hologram.

“Hey legacy,” Tony chuckles, looking at you. You shake your head at the ridiculous nickname, also avoiding his eyes, which you’re sure would make you cry if you did look. “I... uh, this is just a little video. For you. Sure you won’t see this but... I like to pretend I could still talk to you. I miss you, a lot.”

You fiddle with your hands, still not looking at him but you listen to him talk.

“But we’ll see. We’ll figure something out. I hope to see you soon, [Y/N]. I love you.”

He has both hands in his pockets as he looked at you with a warm smile, before disappearing.

But he reappears a second after.

“We’re doing it tomorrow. The... uh, time travel thing.”

The stress in his voice make you look up at him, but this time he isn’t looking at you. It seems like he was pacing while he recorded it.

“I just finished doing one of these for, well, in case I somehow die while we attempt to do it. If you think about it, it’s highly likely. Going back in time, yada yada, possibilities are endless,” he sighs. “But I figured I owe my firstborn a final message if that happens, right?”

“Honestly I feel,” he makes motions with his hands. “Bit anxious... right now. We were the only ones helping each other out when one of us felt this way but... seeing as you’re not here, I just have to deal with it.”

“[Y/N], look at me,” Tony crouches down to be in level with you, like he knew you were actually here watching this, like he was actually there, the one talking to you. But it’s how he programmed it. “You wanna know what my best decision in life was?”

“Yeah?”

“Taking you in,” he smiles. “When we fight you always bring up that I had the choice not to, and you were right. But guess what? I have no regrets.”

You smile, blinking back tears.

“You mean the world to me, I just feel like I don’t say it enough,” Tony cocks his head slightly, still looking at you. “We both have no idea what the afterlife’s like but that won’t matter, I’ll always look after you girls.”

“Speaking of which, your sister reminded me so much of you when she was first born, god, I still wish you were around for that. I know you’ll love her, she’s just brilliant. Take care of her for me, yeah?”

“Maybe there’s a way to get you back,” Tony sighs at your words, already knowing that it’s not going to work out. “I - I just need some time. I can bring you back, Dad-”

He places a hand on your shoulder. You couldn’t feel it, but you did feel a light breeze. “The deed’s already done, honey. Don’t worry about me. Come on, don’t cry,” he kneels in front of you as you let yourself go, crying hard into your palms.

Don't say everything's meant to be, Cause you know it's not what I believe  Can't help but think that it should've been me In the end, I just wish you were here.

You open your eyes when you hear a beep, even Tony turns around. The recording had ten seconds left. “The recording’s about to end, [Y/N],”

“I love you tons,” you whisper, looking up at him.

Tony smiles, caressing your cheek. “I love you 3,000.”

Yeah, they say you're in a better place, Either way I still wish you were here ‘Cause they say you're in a better place  In the end, I just wish you were here.

----

so here’s part 2. I miss him y’all, it’s missing-Tony-so-much hours for me

just like the first part, I got the title from this amazing song by Neck Deep which you can listen to here.

[taglist: @creation-magician​ (which I would like to personally thank for wanting to be tagged)]

[manyfandomsonelog]

2 for the hero villain prompts 😌

Prompt 2 from @creweemmaeec11 ‘s hero/villain prompts:

“Well, that was one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen.” “How dare you?!”

Ship: Prinxiety (Roman/Virgil)

Word Count: 1,825

(I used the same superhero/villain aliases in this as I used in my multi-chapter fic What You Can Stand, but this is not set in the same universe, and you don’t need to have read What You Can Stand in order to read this fic.)

It was a clear, bright day in the city, with hardly a cloud in the sky. The superhero named Roman Reyes, better known as The Prince, felt most at ease with himself in moments like this, flying through the air with the wind in his hair and his cape flowing behind him.

He took the note out of his breast pocket again, running his hand over the purple script, “I’ll be at the Museum of Art at midnight. Catch me if you can.” There was a heart scribbled at the end of the message.

The note wasn’t signed, but Roman didn’t need a signature to know who it was from. It was immediately recognizable as the handiwork of the villain Nightmare- a foreboding supervillain and thorn in Roman’s side for nearly three months now.

Roman could practically hear his gravelly voice teasing him now, “Aw, you’ve been keeping track of how long we’ve known each other? I always knew you cared, Princey.”

The Prince shook himself, clearing his thoughts. Even when he wasn’t there, Nightmare somehow still managed to fluster him. It was one of Roman’s greatest weaknesses when it came to their encounters. Nightmare always seemed to know exactly what to say to throw Roman off, or to make him hesitate quick enough for the villain to slip away.

This time, though, Roman had the upper hand. This time, he was going to catch him. This time, Nightmare had been stupid enough to tell him not only where he was going, but when.

Now, obviously Roman knew that the time was bound to be inaccurate. There was no way that Nightmare would make it that easy for him. But, nevertheless, he had given Roman valuable information.

And, yes, Roman had considered the idea that maybe Nightmare was toying with him completely- maybe he wasn’t going to be at the museum at all, maybe this was all just a ruse- but that really didn’t seem likely. When it came down to it, Nightmare had a flair for the dramatic. He was a supervillain, after all- it was practically in the job qualifications. Still, when it came to dramatics, Nightmare certainly did not disappoint.

The villain’s outfit, for starters- it was an elaborate affair, a bold statement of black and purple criss-crossed with white spiderweb pattern. The villain didn’t have a cape- no, that would be too little- he had a black hooded cloak, like some sort of dark sorcerer.

To be fair, though, the power that the villain possessed probably warranted the dramatics. Nightmare had the ability to show people their worst nightmares- hence the name. All it took was one wrong move, and you were forced to watch your greatest fears play out right in front of your eyes, seemingly as plain as the nose on your face, right up until the moment they were gone.

..Roman had experienced the unpleasantness of Nightmare’s power firsthand more times than he’d like to admit.

But that was beside the point! The point was that Nightmare was dramatic, which meant that he would never miss out on the opportunity to speak to The Prince face to face, and to rub it in that face when he escaped.

Which meant that he would be at the museum!

Roman glanced at a conveniently-located clocktower, and he smiled at the time. It was just past 9:00 AM.

Well, hopefully not anytime soon.

When The Prince arrived at the Museum of Art, it had only been open for an hour. The smile remained on his face, tugging at the corners of his lips as he entered through the back door of the establishment, which he had kindly asked the owner to leave open in a call this morning.

Roman locked the door behind him, walking as quietly as he could. He would prefer to keep his presence here as much of a secret as possible, in order to avoid his enemy finding out that he had arrived unbelievably early.

The automatic lights, however, held no regard for Roman’s wishes. As soon as he began to move, the fluorescent lights overhead flickered on, illuminating the room around him.

Delivery trucks were parked by a garage door in one area of the room, and in the other, boxes of records, paintings, and old frames sat stagnant. Roman remembered Logan saying something once about how libraries always had a certain air of mysticism, and Roman felt that this place had a similar quality.

He looked around for a couple minutes to find a comfortable place to hide, eventually deciding on a spot behind some shelves that was hidden from view. He sat down, piling his cape underneath him as a makeshift pillow.

However early Nightmare was planning to show up, The Prince was going to be there first.

So, Roman waited.

..And waited.

And waited, and waited, and waited.

He could hear the sounds of people within the building milling around, getting louder as the hours passed. Every so often, someone would enter the warehouse, to make a delivery or to grab something from the back, and each time, Roman tensed up, preparing for confrontation, only to relax again.

When he checked the time and saw that only an hour and a half had passed, The Prince let out a groan. Maybe showing up this early had been overkill.

At 1 PM, Roman took a lunch break. Yes, it was risky, but he was pretty sure that if he spent one more second in that spot, not eating, it was going to be his very own supervillain origin story.

When he came back, nothing had changed. He sighed, and waited some more.

Roman wasn’t sure when exactly he dozed off. All he knew was that at 7:00 PM, thirty minutes after closing, he was woken up by the sound of the garage door opening.

Roman blinked drowsily, sitting up from where he’d eventually ended up laying.

It was probably just a delivery.

A figure approached through the open door, their features shadowed. They didn’t appear to be carrying any sort of package, but perhaps they were picking something up, or meeting with someone.

Then, the figure stepped forward, and the fluorescent lights flickered on, illuminating them.

Roman’s eyes widened, his breath hitching.

There he stood in the entrance to the room, his cloak billowing behind him in the wind and a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Nightmare.

The footsteps of his thick black boots echoed through the room, bouncing off of the walls. How he’d managed to get that garage open, The Prince had no idea. He stayed hidden in his spot, his eyes following the villain’s every move. If he could figure out what exactly his angle was here, he’d have the upper hand.

Nightmare looked strangely nervous, his hands fidgeting at his sides and an uneasy expression in his face as he examined the room around him. Was this how he was when he thought he was alone?

He moved across the room, growing closer  to The Prince’s hiding spot with every step. Roman could’ve sworn he was staring right at him.

Then, Nightmare turned away, and Roman exhaled a small sigh of relief.

Unfortunately, he didn’t think this action through, as the villain heard the noise, immediately whirling around. Roman’s heart leapt out of his chest, and he tensed, preparing for a fight.

After a few seconds of standing perfectly still, listening, Nightmare shook his head, and continued in the direction he was going.

Nightmare came to a halt in front of a gilded gold-framed mirror in the corner of the room. Was that what he had come here for? Some dusty old mirror? There was art worth millions more than that inside the museum.

But Nightmare made no move to take the mirror. Instead, he nervously adjusted his costume and moved his brown hair out of his eyes, assessing his reflection.

Nightmare bounced on the balls of his feet a couple of times and muttered something to himself that sounded like, “You can do this.”

Roman stifled a laugh. Was he.. giving himself a pep talk?

Then, things got even better.

Nightmare cleared his throat. Swallowed. Cleared his throat again.

Then, his expression shifted to a smirk, “Well, well, well, look who finally decided to show up.”

What? Who he was he talking to? Roman looked around the room, but they were still the only two people there.

Nightmare shook his head, then repeated his words, saying them with slightly different inflections, “Well, well, well, look who finally decided to show up.” He crossed his arms for a moment, grinning, before he began to pace back and forth, “No, no, that’s stupid.” He groaned.

The Prince’s face split into a grin as he realized what was happening.

Nightmare was rehearsing.

The villain turned on his heel, facing his reflection again, “Hey there, Princey. I was wondering how long it would take for you to get here.”

From his hiding place, Roman stifled a laugh. This was just too good.

Nightmare ran through several more lines, each one providing more of a struggle for Roman not to reveal himself.

“Well, look who’s finally here- I was beginning to think you’d stood me up, Princey.”

“If it isn’t Prince Gullible!”

“I know a Queen is never late, but I’m pretty sure a Prince is.”

“Fancy seeing you here, Princey.”

At that, Roman couldn’t take it anymore. He released his hand from its grip over his mouth and exploded with uncontrollable laughter, the noise echoing through the room.

Nightmare startled, physically leaping into the air with fright.

Having already announced his presence, The Prince stepped out from his hiding place.

Nightmare spotted him in the mirror’s reflection, and his eyes widened.

Roman grinned, “Well, that was one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen.” He said.

Nightmare turned, and even underneath his raccoon’s mask, Roman could see his face turn bright red, “I- Wha- Princey- You-“ He sputtered. Then, he seemed to process Roman’s words, “How dare you?!”

The Prince let out another laugh, delighting in Nightmare’s flustered state, “I mean it! It was adorable. Please- don’t stop at my expense.”

Nightmare’s face reddened further, “I- You- How- How long have you been here?!” He exclaimed.

“Since nine in the morning.” The Prince answered.

The expression on his nemesis’s face made it all worth it.

“Nine..?” Nightmare was dumbstruck. “So you saw..”

“..Everything.” Roman confirmed.

Nightmare buried his face in his hands, “Fuck.” He said. “This is.. humiliating.”

“Aw, don’t be so hard on yourself, Tom Lose. It’s not an easy task to outwit The Prince!”

Nightmare found his footing in the conversation a little,  “Really? Because I’ve been doing it with no problem up until now.”

Roman felt his face heat up, but he did not allow himself to lose his composure, “So you admit that I have outwit you this time?” He said smugly.

“Shut up.” Nightmare growled.

[myherowritings]

the jealous type

— overview: class 1-a has a game night in the common room. bakugou sees you and todoroki getting too close for comfort and can’t stop himself from getting jealous.

— pairing: bakugou katsuki x female!reader

— word count: 3.4k

— warnings: lots of swearing, jealous bakugou (yes that is a warning bc damn boy), sexual tension

— author’s note: this request was so fun to write i was literally on a roller coaster of emotions the whole time. like i couldn’t stop laughing at some parts, then other parts i straight up cried while writing, then i got happy and giggly again...agh. this was something else ;p enjoy!

“Does Todoroki have to be good at everything he does?” Uraraka whispered from beside you, staring in awe as he easily reached five stars on the game Just Dance.

You giggled in agreement. “And does he have to look so good while doing it?”

Ashido joined in on your little circle, nodding as she admired the way his toned muscles flexed while dancing to “Womanizer.” “The rest of the boys really have nothing on him.”

As the three of you--and most likely every other girl in Class 1-A (plus Midoriya)--admired Shouto’s subtle yet graceful style of dancing, Bakugou fumed from behind the sofa. Why was everyone so obsessed with that bastard?

Katsuki scoffed and, startled, you glanced back.

He stood behind the couch you, Mina, and Ochako were on, the ever-present scowl on his face deeper than normal.

“I don’t get what the big deal is,” he muttered, staring past you to glare at Todoroki who was currently beating Kaminari in “Hot n Cold.” “He’s not even that good.”

“He’s beaten everyone he’s played against so far,” you said in a singsong voice. “Seems quite good to me.”

“Tch.”

Mina took a quick break from ogling at Shouto to roll her eyes at Katsuki. “Seems like someone is jealous.”

“Fuck off, Raccoon Eyes,” Bakugou scoffed. “What would I have to be jealous of?”

Just then, the song ended, the screen flashing a crown over Player 1, Shouto.

“Damn!” swore Kaminari, wiping the sweat off his forehead. Eijirou gave him a pat on the shoulder as he sat down.

“Todoroki-chan!” you exclaimed, jumping up from your seat and giving him a high five-turned-hug for his fifth win in a row. “You were amazing, as always.”

Shouto gave you a small smile in return, patting your back gently as you handed him his water bottle.

“Thanks, Y/L/N.”

“Anytime, Icy Hot,” you said with a wink.

Meanwhile, Mina was smirking at a red-faced Katsuki.

His hands were gripping the cushion of the couch, sparks sounding off his forearms. He watched Todoroki whisper something in your ear, causing you to laugh, and he felt his stomach churn uncontrollably.

“Not jealous, huh?” she remarked.

His left eye twitched. He was not jealous of that half-and-half bastard.

But your hand was still on his arm--why the fuck was your hand still on his arm?--and you had a slight flush to your face. What could Icy Hot have possibly said that made you blush? Bakugou would rather read only Machiavelli for the rest of his life than attempt to make conversation with that boring square.

“Look, he won again!” you said, wielding a triumphant expression as you walked back to your seat. “Still think Todoroki’s not good?”

“Anyone can win in that stupid game,” Katsuki muttered under his breath.

“Why don’t you prove it then?” Ashido piped in, a devilish grin on her face. “If you think it’s so easy, why don’t you play against Todoroki and see who wins?”

He scoffed. “And why would I want to prove anything to you?”

“Aw, come on, Bakugou,” you said with a pout. “It’ll be fun!”

Of all the things you had to say…, he thought crossly.

“I don’t think so.”

Tilting your head to the side, a challenging look mingled with your features. “Oh. I see.”

“See what?” he asked, eyes narrowed.

“You’re scared.”

“What the hell would I be scared of?” said Bakugou, voice louder this time.

“You’re scared you’re going to lose to Todoroki, so you’d rather not play!” you proclaimed as if it were the most obvious thing. He felt as if a vein in his forehead was about to pop. “Your scared that maybe King Explosion isn’t the best after all.”

He heard Kaminari and Kirishima ‘ooh’ from the sofa next to you, but Katsuki was too outraged by your comment to spare them a second glance.

“You think I would lose to that bastard?!” he practically scoffed.

“Pretty much, yeah.”

With his ears growing hot in anger, he grabbed the Player 2 Wii Remote from your outstretched hand and did his best to ignore the smirk on your face.

“Fucking bring it, Half-and-Half,” he growled at Todoroki, who was simply standing in front of the television screen with a blank look on his face. “I’ll show all you dumbasses…”

“Hell yeah!” Kirishima cheered, hopping up from his seat on the couch to give Bakugou a pep talk, Kaminari and Sero following behind with equally animated faces. “You can do this in your sleep, Bakubro.”

His forehead throbbed at the insufferable nickname, but before he could say anything Mina dove towards the Wii console with a DVD in hand.

“Can I pick the song?” she cried, changing out the game version to Just Dance 4. “I have the perfect dance in mind!”

And that’s how, ten minutes and tons of arguing later, Katsuki found himself with Shouto’s arms around his waist as they danced to “(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life” in front of his dumb crush and all their dumb classmates.

How he got suckered into being the female dancer, he wasn’t sure.

Mina said he should be the girl because he was shorter-- To which he replied by promising to dye her hair puke green while she was asleep. But the moment you looked up at him with those stupid, pleading eyes and dimpled smile on your face as you told him it’d be so much better with him as the girl, he found himself giving in.

He was a complete fucking fool when it came to you. And the day you ever figured it out would be the end of him.

“Don’t kiss my fucking hand,” Bakugou hissed, ripping it out from Shouto’s grasp as the song went into full action.

Todoroki barely spared him a glance as he posed for the signature move and continued swinging his arms. “It’s part of the dance.”

“Do you think the dumb game can actually tell if you touch me or not?” he retorted, sending him a flying kiss with the remote control.

“Maybe that mentality is why you’re losing.”

Katsuki gaped.

Shouto smiled.

With an annoyed grunt, he began to take the game much more seriously. He’d show that half-and-half bastard…

“Damn, get it, Bakugou!” cheered Kaminari as he scored his third perfect ‘YEAH!’ on the golden poses.

“I hate to say this, but I can’t tell if Bakugou or Todoroki looks hotter doing this dance,” Mina loudly whispered to you and Ochako.

When heard you agree with a fit of giggles, he felt a smug grin spread across his face. In fact, the sound of your laughter was so captivating, he didn’t even mind Todoroki’s clammy hands on his waist as he twirled around.

As the song drew closer to the end, they both easily surpassed the 5 Stars mark, with his score bar merely a centimeter higher than Shouto’s. But he was winning that son of a bitch and that was all that mattered.

“Grand finale time!” Kirishima yelled as Bakugou and Todoroki clasped hands for the final time, tiptoeing away from each other.

“What?” he asked.

“The infamous lift!” you said with a clap of your hands. “Just like in Dirty Dancing. You have to finish the dance off with the lift!”

Katsuki grunted in annoyance but turned to face Todoroki in time with the figures on screen. Shouto raised a brow in amusement and Bakugou wanted to wipe that all-knowing look off his face.

“Do it for Y/L/N, right?”

“Fuck you.”

With a deep scowl, he ran towards the bastard and leapt off the ground with his hands on Todoroki’s shoulders.

“You drop me, you die,” he warned in a menacing tone.

Todoroki let out an indignant puff of air as he caught him. Adjusting to the weight in his hands, Shouto’s arms briefly trembled before he easily steadied them.

“Hmm. For someone so short, you’re actually quite heavy.”

Bakugou’s mouth dropped open. “Who the fuck are you calling short?!”

“You.”

“I’M 172 CENTIMETERS TALL.”

“Yaoyorozu is taller than you.”

“By one fucking centimeter!”

“You’re still short.”

“Why, you little--!”

This time, Bakugou didn’t hold back. He swiftly swung his leg, aiming for Todoroki’s stomach, but right as he was about to make contact, Todoroki jumped out of the way, his grip loosening as Bakugou came tumbling down.

With a strangled yell, Katsuki felt his stomach drop at the 176 centimeter fall (bastard wasn’t even that much taller than him) as he landed with an ungraceful thud.

His eye twitched as he glared up at Shouto’s eerily calm face. “You fucking dropped me!”

“You tried to kick me.”

“That doesn’t mean you can drop me!”

Bakugou was so caught up in arguing, he hardly noticed his well-deserved win. That was, until Kaminari and Sero came up to him and Todoroki wandered off to talk to you.

They were raving about how cool his dancing looked, but all he could focus on was the smile on your face as you gave Half-and-Half a high five. When you wiped a bead of sweat off his temple with a teasing crinkle of your nose, Katsuki just couldn’t stand it anymore.

He played this damn game--put on this stupid fucking show--all for you. And while he knew you didn’t owe him anything, it was frustrating to see how easily you blew it off the minute you got a simple glance from Mr. Perfect.

Clenching his jaw, Bakugou stormed out of the common room without a word, shoving his way past any of his classmates that tried to see what was wrong as he headed up the stairs to his room.

Fuck them all, he thought. He was angry at Icy Hot for getting close to you in a way he never could. He was angry at Raccoon Eyes for planting the stupid idea of jealousy in his head. And he was angry at you for making him feel this type of way.

A churning stomach, a heated face, clenched fists-- Those are all things he loved to feel during a fight. But not here. Not now. Not because of you.

Irritated, he pulled out the key card from his pocket. But just as he was about to unlock the door, he heard someone panting as they ran down the hall.

“Wait!” you cried through deep breaths, trying to catch up to him. “Bakugou!” You paused when you finally reached him, leaning against the wall to steady yourself. “Why’d you leave like that?”

His hand was still on the handle but he turned his head to look your way.

“What do you mean?” he managed to get out steadily.

“I mean, I thought we were all having a fun time, but then you ran off with a pissed expression on your face!” You frowned, taking a step closer to him. “Is something bothering you?”

Yeah. How close you and that half-and-half bastard were.

He scoffed. “No, of course not.”

You bit the inside of your cheek.

“I’m surprised you even noticed with how inseparable you and your boyfriend were,” Bakugou grumbled before he could stop himself.

Dumbass, dumbass, dumbass.

“My...boyfriend?”

He folded his arms across his chest, avoiding your gaze.

Staring up at him, you blinked. “Are you talking about Todoroki?”

“Tch.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” you said with amusement, rolling your eyes. “I don’t even like him in like that.”

“Funny. Doesn’t seem that way.”

You grew defensive. “Why do you care, anyways?”

“That’s a dumb question.”

“And that was a dumb answer.”

“Hmph.”

As he continued to dodge the conversation, you grew more and more annoyed.

You sighed. “Could you just answer the question?”

“What question?”

“Why did you leave?!” you asked with an exasperated shout.

“Why do you care?!” Katsuki bit back.

You glared at him and he matched your intensity head on. “Because, for some pathetic reason, I care about you, asshole!”

“It didn’t seem that way when you kept cozying up to Todoroki!”

“Why the fuck do you keep mentioning Todoroki?!” you cried, frustrated.

“Because he’s the only damned person you seemed to notice all fucking night, baka!” Red in the face, he couldn’t contain his emotions any longer. “Todoroki this, Todoroki that-- ‘Wow, Shouto, you were so amazing!’” he mocked in a harsh tone. “If you’re so fucking obsessed with him, why aren’t you there right now?”

“I don’t know!” Your voice came out in a strangled shout and when Bakugou looked at you he noticed the glassy sheen in your eyes and the hurt expression in your face.

Your cheeks were puffed slightly and your lower lip jutted out in a tremble so slight he only noticed because of the close attention he was paying. He instinctively reached forward to wipe a stray tear away, but you pulled back, stung.

Katsuki felt like shit.

Of all the things that could’ve happened, making you cry was the last thing he wanted to do.

With a sniffle, you folded your arms across your chest and lifted your chin up. “You’re right, I could be downstairs with Todoroki and the rest of our friends, dancing and having a fun time, but instead I’m in a hallway with a jerk who obviously doesn’t want me here!”

He sighed, his voice coming out rougher than usual. “I never said I didn’t want you here.”

“No, but you’re acting like it.”

Katsuki bristled. “Fine, just go and run to Todoroki then! No one’s forcing you to stay!”

“Good, because I don’t want to stay!”

“Good!”

You both glared at each other, heat unwavering as you refused to break eye contact.

“You know what? You’re such an asshole, Bakugou!” you cried in frustration, fingers digging into your palms as you balled your fists. You shook your head, angry tears threatening to fall down your face. “To think I actually like someone like you.”

He blinked at your words, taken aback. “What?”

You glowered. “Are you really going to make repeat that?”

“No, baka, I just--” Katsuki blew a quick breath of air through his teeth. “Don’t you like Icy Hot?”

“Yeah, as a friend!”

“Then why do you two always look so goddamn cozy anytime you’re in the same room? It’s like he’s the only person you see when you’re around him,” he grumbled, uncertain of his admission. “It’s not to make me jealous, is it?”

“Oh, get over yourself, big head!” You eyes narrowed as you scowled, but at least you were no longer sad. Bakugou would much rather have you annoyed with him for the rest of his days than make you cry again. “Todoroki and I are good friends and I’m just comfortable enough around him to act like that. It’s not because I like him-- And it’s certainly not because I was trying to make you jealous!”

At your menacing frown, Bakugou held his hands up.

“Okay, fine,” he snapped defensively. “My mistake, then. It was my own idiocy that made me jealous.”

“Exactly!” you retorted. Then, more quietly, “Wait-- What?”

“What now?!”

You bit your lower lip, suddenly averting your gaze. “You were jealous?”

He snorted, trying not to let his embarrassment show. “Isn’t that what I just fucking said?”

“Well, yes… But why were you jealous, exactly?”

“Do I need to spell it out for you, baka?” Katsuki asked disbelievingly. “As if it couldn’t be anymore obvious.”

Ashido knew. Uraraka knew. Even Todoroki, the most oblivious asshole in all of Japan, somehow figured it out. How the fuck haven’t you?

“Your obvious and my obvious seem to be different,” you said in an accusing tone, taking a step closer with each word as you prodded your finger into his chest.

“Obviously.”

“What?” you cried in disbelief. Even Bakugou didn’t know what he meant by that. Your body was just so fucking close to his he couldn’t even think straight anymore. Damn you. “This conversation is going nowhere! Just answer the stupid question!”

“Yes, I was jealous! Okay?” he said brusquely, moving away until he shoulder hit the corner of his doorway. “I was jealous of you and that damn half-and-half bastard. Whenever he’s around, it’s like he’s all you see. He looks at you, smiles at you, touches you in a way that I never can.”

You shifted even closer to him, almost closing the distance between the two of you, and Katsuki saw the nervous tremble in your step despite the confident look on your face.

“And why would you be jealous of that?” you asked slowly, almost tantalizing.

His felt his face heat up, flustered. Were you really going to make him say it?

You raised a brow and he growled, “Because I like you!”

“And I already told you I like you, too--” You broke off with a disdainful shake of your head. “God knows why.”

Although you told him those exact words earlier, his stomach still churned with the same intensity. “Then why aren’t you like that with me?”

And there it was. The million dollar question. The source of all his frustration.

Why was it so easy for you to be with Todoroki--to laugh with him and flirt with him--when you could barely look Bakugou in the eye unless it was to glare?

“Because you’re you,” you said, shuffling your weight between your feet. “You make me nervous when you’re around. It’s easy to talk to Todoroki because I don’t like him and he doesn’t like me. But with you-- You make my stomach feel weird and my heart acts funny and it’s like I suddenly forget how to speak.” You paused like you were out of breath. “I...I don’t know how to make it stop.”

As you talked, he found it hard to swallow. His breathing came out in sharp huffs and he found his warm hand resting on your hip, drawing you nearer.

There was a lapse of silence after your admission, and you wanted to withdraw in embarrassment, staring down at the floor and wriggling out of his grasp. But before you could move, Bakugou lifted your chin with a gentle finger until you faced him.

You looked into his eyes for what felt like forever until he spoke up.

“That makes two of us,” he said with a bark of laughter. Bakugou shut his eyes, almost in pain by what he was about to say next. “I’m a complete idiot when you’re around. It’s like I can’t help but make a fool of myself.”

“You did look pretty foolish earlier tonight,” you said teasingly, a shy smile on your face despite the way you ran your hand up his torso and rest your palm on his chest.

“Tch. Is that so?” He hoped you couldn’t feel how heart his beating through the thin material of his shirt. “You looked pretty impressed during the dance.”

“Yeah, at Shouto.”

He knew you were joking, but he couldn’t help but stiffen, almost drawing his hands away from you until you laughed.

“Sorry, was that too soon?” you said through giggles, placing Bakugou’s hands back on your hips as you leaned towards him. His back was pressed against the wall as you stood between his legs.

Katsuki huffed at your response, but his annoyance was easily forgotten when you peered up at him with wide eyes and a pouty lower lip he wanted to take between his own.

“You never have to worry about Todoroki, or Kirishima, or Shinsou-- Or anyone else. Because it’s you I like. And although you make my head hurt and annoy me to no end, I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else.”

“I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else, either,” he admitted roughly. “I’m glad it’s you.”

“Good.” Your features lit up with a grin and Bakugou felt like he was attacked by the Sun itself.

He felt himself smiling back foolishly until his cheeks hurt. “Good.”

As you tilted your head upwards, Katsuki’s leaned down and met you halfway. Your lips were soft with a taste of cherry lingering on the surface and your body was inviting as you brushed your hips against his. It was slow and it was deep, passionate yet sensual.

And it was the best damn kiss he had ever had.

- - - - -

author’s note: *SCREAMS FOR 5 HOURS STRAIGHT* the end! tt.tt *goes from crack fic to agonizing jealousy so fast i got whiplash*

i WHEEZED while write the shouto and katsuki dance duet someone PLEASE draw them doing the iconic dirty dancing lift with some of class 1-a + reader reacting like “what the fuck but also damn...respect” PLEASE I’M ON MY KNEES BEGGING YOU JSAHFK

[aro-throughyourchest]

Take a Break (and Get To Sleep)

Project Variantology: Day 25, Sickness

WORD COUNT: 1,020 (Again)

WARNINGS: None?

Varian stared at the ceiling, a pit in his stomach and a headache filling his head with pain.

Everything hurt, but he had so much work to do. He felt stuck in this limbo of not being able to sleep but unable to work.

He groaned and rolled over, wincing. The lab felt boiling, although that may have just been him. He eyed the wall, and Ruddiger curled up beside him. He coughed and muttered, “Hey buddy...”

After a few minutes, he grumbled and got up. He’ll make up for lost sleep later, (no, he won’t,) but work was more important.

Ruddiger obviously didn’t want him out of bed and tugged at the hem of his pajamas. He picked up his little buddy and reassured,

“Ruddiger, I’ll be fine...”

He placed his pet on a counter before bursting into a coughing fit and holding his head. “Agh...”

Ruddiger’s ears drooped, and he chattered nervously before running off. Varian sat down at his study and began his fifth try on his experiment. Obviously, it wasn’t good for his health to work himself to bone 'til he fainted, but the people of Corona needed him! For once, he wouldn’t let them down!

He scribbled down the (failed) procedures after each experiment, trying his best to document every outcome while still keeping conscious. His head throbbed, and the heat of the room only heightened as he worked on.

Slowly, he dripped the contents of the vial into the sapling. He lifted his goggles, but nothing happened. He groaned and slammed his head onto the table, repeatedly. This only made his head hurt more, of course.

Varian wrote down the unfortunately unsuccessful effects of Try #3 and huffed. 3rd try? Seriously?

This felt pathetic. He tried to give himself a pep talk despite how he could barely hear his own thoughts. He could do this. There’s nothing that he couldn’t handle!

Weakly, he grabbed the vial and got ready for Try #4.

After his, maybe 5th, 6th try, Rapunzel burst through the door.

“VARIAN!”

Ruddiger ran into the study and looked at Varian sheepishly, conveying that-

“Ruddiger, you ratted me out?” Varian said, exaggerated betrayal in his voice.

The raccoon chattered nervously, and Raps marched over to Varian. He cleared his throat. “Rapunzel, I’m fine, there’s nothing wrong-“

She laid a hand to his forehead and gasped.

“You’re burning up!”

Varian, under about half an hour’s worth of nausea and adrenaline, joked, “I’m not Burning Up, I’m Varian!”

Raps face fell, clearly not amused. He found it hilarious as he couldn’t stop laughing- Wait, that was the delirium. Never mind.

“Varian, we need to get you back to bed.”

“I’m fine.”

He shook the vial not realizing that he was supposed to cover the top of it. The contents of the vial spilled everywhere, and Varian growled, chucking the vial across the room.

“You’re sleep-deprived. Varian, how long have you been working?”

He huffed and tensed, mumbling, “30 minutes.”

Ruddiger hopped up next to him and looked at him with worry.

“Okay, not too bad,” Rapunzel responded, “but you still need to get some rest.”

“Hmph.”

Raps went to go find a way to turn the temperature down, and as soon as she turned her back, he pressed his palms against the side of his head harshly and silently screamed. AGH, THE WORLD FELT ON FIRE.

She came back with her huge fan she made three years ago, and Varian felt slightly intimidated.

She noticed his fear and held up her hands. “Oh don’t worry, I have it on the lowest setting.”

She set it up and pulled the lever. Varian flinched in preparation but found only a cool breeze blowing gently in his face. His head still felt like it was closing in on him, but the wind in his face made up for it.

Rapunzel smiled and asked, “Can you go to sleep nowwwww?”

Varian wrinkled his nose. “But I don’t wanna; I gotta work...”

She sighed.

“Varian, why is this ‘project’ so important to you..?”

He froze.

“You’ve lost hours of sleep over this project; you’ve sheltered yourself from everyone.“

In response, Varian tiredly pulled a notebook out of a drawer in the desk. It was covered in little doodles, and the words, “EXPERIMENTS,” was written on the cover in bold. It appeared fairly old but in alright condition. He sighed and flipped through the crispy pages.

“When I was younger, I kept a journal of my experiments. A bunch of them were ‘wildly outlandish and disastrous,’ as my village put it, but they were a fun way to expand my science craft. Recently, since I became a Royal Engineer, I decided to look through again, see if I could retry any of them.”

He flipped to a specific page glumly.

“There was this one experiment that... Kind of screwed up. Really badly.”

He held up the book to show her.

“I was trying to make plants grow faster and bigger, you know, and I thought the experiment would work, so I tested it on a small plant...”

He closed the journal slowly. “The experiment not only killed the plant but also sank into the soil, and long story short, that’s how I ruined crop season for all of Old Corona for a good while,” he said.

“Heh, I kinda stuck to small experiments that wouldn’t ruin everything after that.”

He paused and continued, “If I keep at the experiment, maybe...” He cut off.

Rapunzel’s heart dropped, and she muttered, “Oh, Varian...”

Varian laid his head on the desk, and another surge of pain hit him. He groaned and tugged at his hair, and Rapunzel reached out. An idea popped into her head; she stopped and turned on her heel.

She went over to his bed, grabbed a blanket, and laid it over him.

“Raps, I don’t need sleep.”

She patted his head. “Too late. I’ve already laid the blanket over you. Sleep time.”

Varian rolled his eyes but smiled, soon falling asleep.

Raps laid a bowl of chicken soup near him with a note and shut the door behind her. This was supposed to be an apology for last week, but this isn’t really an apology, is it? Ah well.

[jungnoir]

hello!! truth be told, i am not entirely certain if your requests are open and stuff, if they aren't, please forgive me, it's honestly my first time requesting so i'm really worried that i am gonna mess up, please don't hate me :((( do you think there's a chance that you'll write some youngk or wonpil fluff (or rival!au,,, or anything would be great,,, honestly) any time soon? if not, that's totally okay, i hope i didn't bother you, thank you regardless and have a great day!!

anatomically correct heart-shaped pretzel;

kim wonpil | food service is way more competitive and romantic than you’d think, believe it or not. rival!au. mall!au. | 1.6k words. | fluff, humor.

a/n: ahhh you’re okay!!! thank you for being so polite. I’m not officially accepting requests as I’m sort of just writing whenever I want to and dropping in. usually, I will announce that I’m writing requests on my blog and leave it open for a certain amount of time. however, I’m being pretty casual with things so I totally don’t mind this request at all! here’s rival kiosk workers at the mall with wonpil

“He’s at it again. Look at him; he’s got an evil look in those puppy dog eyes, that dead customer service smile, that high-pitched “have a good day!” pep in his step. I want to wring his neck like a Shake Weight.”

Your coworker, Dowoon, pauses in the middle of refilling the fruity pebbles toppings to give you a disturbed look, “Okay, Jesus. What is wrong with you?”

You glare right back, “It’s fucking pretzel boy Wonpil showing off again.”

“You mean doing his job?”

Grumbling a “showing off” under your breath, you turn around again to continue your angry brooding when you happen to catch Wonpil’s eyes between serving customers. His friendly smile quickly turns malicious, the boy having the audacity to drop his eyelid down in a wink before going about his business again, annoyingly unbothered by your seething not 20 feet away.

Dowoon was convinced that you were paranoid. Ever since that new pretzel kiosk popped up next to your once very thriving frozen yogurt shop, you’d been noticing business trailing elsewhere. People were trading gummy bears for salty bread and Wonpil’s “personable” attitude, something that you couldn’t quite get over. He wasn’t personable at all. You knew the real truth and yet no one believed you.

It had all started two months back when they’d first opened. You had thought Wonpil to look actually pleasant to talk to, deciding to befriend your new competition to be friendly which, unfortunately, massively backfired. Perhaps you were too bubbly, too optimistic on the first go, because Wonpil seemed to immediately bristle upon greeting. That was your first sign that things were going steadily downhill.

Your next sign was how aware you were that you were dominating the conversation. It seemed like no matter how much you tried to fish out of Wonpil, he wouldn’t budge. His answers were short, blunt, and disconcerting to say the least. After a few failed attempts, you’d promptly agreed with yourself that perhaps Wonpil was just one of those people who went to work, did their job, and left it at that. But then the customers came rolling in.

He was a totally different guy, the bastard.

Everything. From the way he lit up to the way his voice rose several octaves to the way he laughed out loud at every terrible customer joke. It was a pang to your admittedly offended heart. Was there something wrong with you? Did you smell? Was he just having a bad day earlier? It had thrown you pretty off for the rest of your shift, even catching the attention of one of your other usually aloof co-workers: Sungjin.

You just couldn’t place it. You obviously didn’t want to think he simply disliked you and only you, but it was all you had to go on. Why was he so averse to you when you’d done nothing to him? ...as far as you knew, anyway.

He was even nice to Dowoon! What did Dowoon have that you didn’t?!

And then, then, Wonpil started to notice you, but for all the wrong reasons.

It was through knowing smirks and condescending winks that you began to kindle your delicate hatred-baby for Wonpil. He knew he was peeving you off. He knew that when you’d watch him with that barely veiled look of yearning in your eyes for acceptance that he could simply look your way and you’d fluster. He wasn’t kind. He was a jerk. Wonpil was an absolute asshole and no one seemed to think so except you.

Your co-workers called it a friendly rivalry. You called it war.

He was super keen on stealing your customers too, drawing them in from your shop to get them to buy those damn pretzels, just to see you squirm and fumble to turn their attention back. When he’d win, he’d get this smug look on his face and gnaw his bottom lip with a hooded gaze cast your way, practically relishing in your anger and humiliation. You’d dreamt of all the ways you could make that little pipsqueak sing for mercy-

“Hey! Can you do your job or do I need to stand you on the other side of the counter as a cardboard cutout?” Dowoon’s annoyance is not easy to ignore even in the midst of your daydream, and unfortunately, that meant that you would have to come back to your reality. Your cold, Wonpilly reality.

With a lack of vigor that could rival a pubescent boy in band practice, you continue your shift in a disgruntled haze. You don’t want to think you’re being childish about it, but you can often feel Wonpil’s eyes on you while you work, and it’s enough to make you rightfully paranoid. You know the minute you look up that he’s going to have some patronizing expression on his face and, honestly, you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself back from punching it clean off. Only fifteen more minutes, you think to yourself, counting down til the end of your shift. Fifteen more minutes and then I’m out of here.

Dowoon eventually leaves early, mentioning he has a date tonight and that he doesn’t want to be late, and you mumble an affirmative to clean and lock up for him. You’ve got no such plans for the evening, instead planning to relax and enjoy the weekend Wonpil-free. As customers slow to almost nothing, you decide it’s a good time to start closing up.

As you’re sweeping away the debris on the floor, you hear the sound of a fist knocking against glass and decide to look up, ready to shoo away a customer who came too late. Instead of a customer, it’s something much worse.

“Hey,” Wonpil says, one hand in his puffy jacket pocket, the other holding a small take-away bag from the pretzel place, “heading out tonight?”

You’re so stunned by his attempt at casual conversation that you forget to be mean, staring at him in confusion, “Uh... no. Why?”

Wonpil looks both relieved and surprised, clutching the bag a little closer to himself, “Oh... uh, well it’s just that... you know, it’s Valentine’s day. I assumed you had a date.”

Your brain is a Windows blue screen right now. Was it... oh, fuck, how could you have missed it? Today was February the 14th. You flush soon after. No, you had no date. “Nope... but I bet you do. If you came here to gloat about it, don’t even bother. I’m too tired to deal with you right now.”

A look of hurt flashes across Wonpil’s visage, “I didn’t... that’s not why I came over.”

“Then why?” You can’t hide the tired exasperation in your voice, “You closed up already, didn’t you? Just go home. I’m not in the mood.”

That same hurt flashes again and part of you almost wants to feel bad about it. 

Wonpil reaches into the bag with a trembly bottom lip, “I-I came over to apologize. And to give you this.”

In his hand now is a heart shaped pretzel, but not just the traditional heart shape. No, it was anatomically correct. Scarily so. It was also piping hot and looked rather tasty after a long day of work. You rarely indulged yourself in the enemy’s goods, but... “What do you mean, apologize?”

“I uh... I kinda totally screwed up. The thing is, I don’t hate you like you think I do. I actually really like you. I know that I don’t show it and it’s not much of an excuse, but it’s just... when I first met you, I was really, really nervous. You were so kind and funny and attractive... I froze up,” your eyes begin to bulge as he holds the pretzel out to you, “and I couldn’t act normally around you. Then people started saying we were rivals so I ran with it. Anything to get you to look at me.”

You check Wonpil’s face to see if he’s lying. He’s not, as far as you can tell, but you’d been a bad judge of his character before, “That’s really stupid, Wonpil.”

Instead of looking upset however, he laughs lightheartedly... like you’d kinda hoped he would laugh around you all along. It’s a sweet sound. You don’t even want to wring his neck right now. “I know. I don’t expect that to fix anything, but I still wanted to give you something. You can stomp it or throw it in the trash or feed it to the raccoon couple near Macy’s, I don’t mind. I just wanted you to know that I’m a really stupid guy who has a kind of embarrassingly huge crush on you. Happy Valentine’s day, (Name). I hope... I hope that we can at least be friends. Or enemies with a truce.”

Sincere. He was actually being sincere right now.

You drop the dustpan and push the swinging half-door open to leave your little kiosk, watching Wonpil as he turns to face you, pretzel still outstretched. You take it form his hands and watch his shoulders deflate in relief. A little overwhelmed with the fact that he’d just confessed to you, you test the waters, “So uh... you busy, Wonpil?”

The boy blinks rapidly, “N-No. Why?”

You take a bite from the warm pretzel and almost let out a humiliating moan in content. Goddamn, this boy made some mean pretzels. How could you ever turn that down? “There’s a movie playing in the theater upstairs in an hour. You know, that really bad remake? You wanna catch it together?”

Wonpil lets out an immediate “Yes. But... what do you wanna do until then?”

For the first time in two months, you allow Wonpil one real, warm smile once more, “You can start by finally answering all those questions I asked about you two months ago, for a start. I’d like to get to know my rival a little better.”

[wednesdaywrites]

ryan wakes up in a strange place surrounded by dangerous creatures and familiar people. can she keep it together long enough to get out alive?

leon s kennedy x oc

warning: canon typical violence

lowercase is an aesthetic choice

masterlist

her eyes fluttered open like a scene in a movie.

        she lifted her head with a soft groan, taking in her surroundings.

        she definitely wasn’t in her bed.

        she pushed herself into a sitting position. the room was faintly lit and dust attacked her nostrils.

        something about the room seemed familiar, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

        to her left, she took note of a bunch of couches.

        why couldn’t she have woken up on one of those, rather than the cold-ass ground?

        she struggled to her feet, cringing at a sharp pain in her side. poking at the area gently, she found the tips of her fingers covered in blood. she was bleeding—why was she bleeding?

        she couldn’t take the time to inspect the wound. a deep sense of panic was urging her to move.

        the way behind her was blocked by a shutter door, like the ones used to close up stores at the mall, and she couldn’t get her fingers under to even try to lift it or fit her arm through to feel for a switch.

        this place seems really familiar, she thought, looking at the massive room on the other side.

        she turned back to the way hidden behind a room divider. the sense of panic spiked. she took a step in that direction. more panic. fuck it, and with that thought, she swung around the divider. she slowly pushed the door open, finding herself faced with a long, dark, extremely terrifying corridor. she knew she had no choice but to go this way, so she continued. she detected a faint metallic scent, and even in the dark, she could make out a form slouched at the end of the hallway.

        “hello. . . ?” she called softly, approaching slowly. the sound of static, and a frantic voice, hit her ears.

        “hello?” she repeated, but she knew it was pointless. it didn’t take an idiot to know the man was dead.

        the voice on the walkie talkie on his shoulder promised a touchdown at rpd.

        rpd?

        curiosity got the better of her, and she carefully lifted the dead man’s head, gasping in horror at the sight.

        the flesh on his face was cut deep from edge to edge and his throat looked like it had been torn open. his jaw started to sag from the rest of his face.

        she made a noise of disgust, falling back on her ass. she barely noticed the body flinging itself against the window in front of her.

        the glass shattered like it was paper-thin, and the body flopped in practically right on top of her.

        she couldn't help the scream that came from her mouth—big mistake.

        there were angry snarls down the hall to her right.

        she scrambled to her feet as the body before her reached for her, taking off the way she had come. she heard the march of the dead behind her as she hit the room divider, nearly falling through it as she slammed the door shut. she took the table on the other side of the divider and dragged it in the way. she rushed to the window and tried frantically to get it open. she was met with another body flinging itself against the glass.

        with a cry, she toppled backward over the couch behind her. she heard the dead trying to bust the door down.

        she was trapped.

        “hello?”

        she looked to see a boy—man?—not much older than her looking in at her.

        “hello?!” she scrambled to the shutter door, pulling at it pathetically. “h-hey! open the door! please open the fucking door!”

        “hold on!”

        the door gave way, and she heard the dead hit her barricade.

        “hurry!”

        “i got it!”

        the door whirred, but it was too slow for comfort. it barely cracked when the first body flopped over the barricade. she kicked the body in the head, turning back to the door. once it was open enough for her to get through, she swung her legs under, grabbing the bottom and pulling herself under.

        if she was gonna die, she figured getting her throat torn out would be quicker than getting eviscerated.

        gentle but frantic hands grabbed her arms and pulled her away just as rotting hands reached under the door.

        “take this!”

        the boy—man, shit—pressed a knife into her hands, and her instinct took over.

        she knelt as heads appeared under the door, stabbing swiftly as the man shot.

        once she was sure the last was dead, she let herself relax.

        “thank you. . .” she breathed, holding out the knife.

        “keep it. . .” she looked up to see him offering his hand; she took it and he helped her up. her ankle hurt from falling over the couch. “at least until we find you a gun.”

        “i’m ryan. . .” she offered weakly.

        he cracked a polite, comforting smile. “leon.”

        leon. . . suddenly it all made sense. . .

        she was in fucking raccoon city. . .

        “how long have you been here?” he asked, giving the place a quick scan.

        “i. . . i don’t know. . . i just woke up here. . . i think i’m way far away from fucking home. . .”

        “hey. . . breath, alright?” he grabbed her shoulders. “we're gonna get out of here, okay? you, me, and claire.”

        “claire?” she mused rhetorically.

        he nodded. “i just met her. she should be here any minute.”

        “we should look around, right? try to find a way out of here?”

        “yeah,” leon said. “i was about to check the cameras when i heard you.”

        she followed him to the computer on the front desk, peering over his shoulder at the screen.

        “there has to be someone here. . .” he said, bringing up the cctv control.

        “hey. . .” she pointed to the fourth camera, which showed another officer firing at an unseen threat.

        probably more dead.

        “not good. . .” leon switched angles as the man ran down the hallway.

        “david! marvin!” the officer looked into the camera. “you there?!”

        “i found a way out!” he continued, showing a small notebook to the camera. “it’s in here!”

        she couldn’t look as the dead got closer.

        “send reinforcements! east hallway!”

        leon brought up a map of the east side of the building. “we gotta find that guy.”

        “after you, officer friendly. . .”

        they turned to another shutter door, painted blue with rpd stenciled on. . . with a card board sign reading “keep out" taped over.

        “inviting. . .” she quipped dryly.

        leon shook his head, clearly amused but trying to hide it. he pulled the lever beside the door; it creaked open, getting stuck with just enough clearance to be crawled under.

        “into the rabbit hole we go. . .” ryan gagged as leon shined his flashlight under the door, revealing a thick puddle of blood. “blech!”

        leon said nothing as he crawled under the door, shining his light down the hallway. he gave her a thumbs-up under the door and, with a whine, she followed him through.

        “okay. . .” he breathed, facing the dark abyss in front of them.

        it took everything in her not to cling to his arm like a goddamn child. the dead weren’t new to her, but this environment was.

        she turned to the wall, where a fuse box was perched, missing a fuse. “looks like we have some searching to do. . .”

        “we'll look later—we have to hurry.”

        “right.”

        as they navigated the darkness of the hallway with his disturbingly-bright flashlight lighting the way, she had to resist the urge to take point. back where she was from, she usually led these kinds of operations.

        “you got this. . .”

        she almost cried at his tiny self-pep talk; she probably wasn’t supposed to hear, but she did.

        there were gun shots from deep in the darkness and they broke into a run. turning the corner, they found their path blocked by a tipped filing cabinet.

        nearby, she noticed a boarded-up door creaking as if something was pushing up against it.

        “i don’t like the sound of that. . .” she commented aloud.

        leon grabbed the cabinet. “c'mon, help me move this.”

        she ducked between his arms, grabbing the cabinet herself and helping him hoist it back into place.

        “nice, helping me feel useful.”

        “let's go.”

        to their left, the hallway was blocked with an assortment of stuff, but she knew that wasn’t the way. back in the darkness, more gunshots rang.

        “c'mon!”

        she took off running, braving the dark for someone she knew was doomed. she heard him behind her as she stopped at a desk embedded in the wall, groaning at the sight of bodies on the floor.

        “jesus!”

        tell me about it, she thought.

        “open up! hurry!” she spun to face the room. “open up! open this goddamn door!”

        she pushed past leon and forced the door open, sliding over the desk and landing on her knees in front of the shutter door.

        “hold on! we got you!” she squeezed her fingers under the door. “leon!”

        “we'll get you out!” leon assured, helping her lift the door.

        “help!” a hand shot under the door. “please! help me!”

        “give me your hand!” leon took hold of the hand, trying to pull the man through. “i got you.”

        ryan tried to keep the door open enough for him to come through without resistance.

        “give me your other hand!” leon said as the man turned, reaching for him.

        suddenly, he screamed in pain and blood erupted everywhere. she closed her eyes as his screaming threatened to force memories to the front of her mind.

        “leon!”

        “hang in there!” she wasn’t sure if he was talking to the poor cop or her.

        almost as suddenly as it had started, the screaming stopped and something told her to let go of the door. right as she did, a dead hand thrust itself under the door, being severed by the heavy metal door.

        “oh my god. . . jesus christ. . .”

        she turned to the scene beside her, whimpering slightly. she had seen worse, but being so close. . .

the poor guy. . . the dead had torn into him so brutally it bisected him at the waist. . .

she felt sick.

        the sound of banging on the door brought her back to her senses with a sharp gasp.

        leon picked up the tiny notebook that had fallen out of the officer’s hand and shoved it in his pocket, crawling over to her, grabbing her shoulders, and lifting her with him.

        “we could have saved him. . .” she mumbled numbly.

        “hey, hey. . .” he lifted her chin. “there was nothing we could have done.”

        she could tell he wanted to believe it, but she knew he was beating himself up, too.

        the door behind them busted open and leon pushed her behind him, raising his gun at the offender.

        “stay back!”

        “leon, shoot!” she cried.

        he pulled the trigger and hit the uniformed walker between the eyes. it barely moved it, so leon just shoved it aside, keeping himself between it and her as he backed them out of the room.

        the corner window busted inwards as a walker rammed itself in.

        “go, go!”

        she took off running, followed closely by leon. she turned the way they had come, almost making it to the end of the hall before another door busted open.

        two walkers came at her, and she just barely managed to get the knife out as they came at her. she stopped the one to her left with her arm under its chin, bringing the knife up so the one to her right stabbed itself in the head. the knife got stuck as the walker fell, nearly taking her down with it.

        “ryan!”

        she used the force of the other walker pushing against her to throw it to the side. “come on!”

        they hurried back to the door, but part of it had fallen so only one of them could get through at a time, and they didn’t have time to lift it.

        “go!”

        she wanted to protest that his life was more valuable than hers, but decided against it and scrambled under as quickly as she could.

        leon crawled out after her, but right before he got his legs out, a walker grabbed them, trying to pull him back in.

        “leon!” she got her arms under his shoulders, kicking the walker in the head as she helped leon pull himself free.

        suddenly, a man came out of nowhere, forcing the shutter door closed on the walker's head with his foot.

        she looked up to see a deathly pale dark-skinned man looking down at them, holding onto his side.

        “you’re safe. . .” he said, “for now.”

        “thanks. . .” leon said, relaxing back against ryan, who realized she still had her arms around him.

        oops?

        “marvin branagh.”

        marvin. . .

        “leon kennedy.” leon pointed over his shoulder at her. “this is ryan. . . ?”

        “branson,” she finished awkwardly.

        “there was another officer. . .” leon said. “we couldn’t. . . i couldn’t. . .”

        there was the beating up. . .

        marvin came to them, holding out his hand. “here. . .”

        leon took his hand, and the injured man helped the perfectly fine man to his feet. he turned to help ryan up, but she had already stood on her own.

        “i’m sure you did what you could, leon,” marvin said, making his way up to an area blocked off by privacy screens.

        as leon changed into his uniform, ryan wandered around the hall. the whole place was so beautiful—so ornate. it was hard to believe it was a police station. she walked behind the front desk, taking note of a typewriter sitting atop the desk and a large storage box standing next to the computer they had checked the cameras on.

hm.

“ryan?”

“here—” she called, hurrying around the desk and back up the ramp to the back of the hall.

leon looked relieved that she hadn’t run off.

        damn, he looked good in uniform.

        shut up, ryan.

        “does anyone know what started this?” he asked.

        “not a clue,” marvin said, looking at something on his tiny nineties computer.

        ryan came closer, trying not to look at leon too much.

        “but honestly,” marvin continued, “all you need to know is that this place will eat you alive if you aren’t careful.”

        “you’re telling us. . .” ryan deadpanned.

        leon ignored her. “yeah, well. . . i was supposed to start last week and i got a call to stay away. i wish i’d come here sooner.”

        “you’re here now, leon. that’s all that matters. and your girlfriend, too, i suppose.”

        “she's not my—”

        “i’m not his—”

        the mistake didn’t faze marvin, who turned his attention to the notebook leon had taken off the dead officer.

        “okay, lieutenant, i’m ready.”

        what a sweet boy, ryan mused internally. the whole city’s gone to shit and he’s still keeping with formalities. 

        “hopefully, you’ll be able to find a way out of this station,” marvin said. “that officer you met earlier—elliot—he thought this secret passageway might do the trick.”

        leon took the notebook from him, turning it to examine it; ryan peeked over his shoulder to get a look at the tiny drawings.

        “this is good news,” leon said. “we can get you to a hospital.”

        she and marvin shared a knowing look.

        “no.” marvin shook his head. “no. i am not the priority here.”

        “lieutenant, i’m not just gonna leave you here—”

        “i’m giving you an order, rookie,” marvin snapped. “you save yourself and that girl first. i’d come with you, but i’d just slow you down. . .”

        leon looked away for a moment.

        “now. . . you’ll need this.” marvin pulled a knife sheath from his belt.

        “i can't take—”

        “stop.” when leon went to take the knife, he pulled him close. “and don’t make my mistake. if you see one of those things—uniform or not—you do not hesitate. you take it out. . . or you run. got it?”

        leon nodded. “yes, sir.”

        marvin looked at her and she quickly nodded. “got it.”

        he sank back down to the couch, grunting in pain. she moved forward to help, but how she could help, she wasn’t sure.

        as leon walked away to assess their plan, marvin waved her over.

        “you keep his ass in line, okay? you look like you’ve seen some shit—you know, he doesn’t.”

        she cracked a weak smile. “yes, sir.”

[cela-astral-projection]

Don't say a word, just come over and lie here with me. 'Cause I'm just about to set fire to everything I see. I want you so bad I'll go back on the things I believe. There I just said it, I'm scared you'll forget about me.

So young and full of running, all the way to the edge of desire Steady my breathing, silently screaming, "I have to have you now"

18+; Cut for length and content. 

Celeste sat in Julian's nearly finished office at the makeshift desk, a board bridging two sawhorses, making a list for their contractor.

She was in a bit of a time crunch. They were leaving tomorrow. Of course, her bags had been packed for days. It was more the prospect of actually going that made her feel harried.  

She had been milling around the shop for days, making sure that everything was ready for Asra. And, when she wasn't fussing there, she was worried about the clinic's progress. But it was all nerves.

The past few years had been a test, to put it mildly.

Now that all the fires were put out, she didn't quite know what to do with herself.  

Going away with Julian seemed like as good a plan as any. To get out of her head. To get some perspective. There were no more Devils left to fight. No more ghosts were lurking in the dark night. She was as free as she would ever be again.

She had only left Vesuvia a few times. To Nopal, with Asra. To the south, with Muriel. One, painfully short. The other, agonizingly long. The prospect of leaving a was daunting. But the way Julian framed it, even knowing that he had a particular way with words, seemed appealing.

Her note finished, she looked around the room. Light streamed through the window. Fine dust covered every surface. But, even in an unfinished state, there was so much potential here. A place of healing. Where she could get back to who she was meant to be.

Julian stepped into the door frame, leaning against it, grinning broadly. He had been positively giddy for days. She knew that if he could have left days ago, he would have done.

"Are you almost ready, Lovely? Goodbye dinner with Nadia in about an hour. You're going to want to change..."

Celeste gave him a quizzical look, eyebrow raised. "Goodbye...oh. Oh!" she exclaimed, remembering. "Oh, Julian. I'm sorry. I completely forgot. I have some loose ends I need to tie up before tomorrow morning. Give them my regards."

The wind appeared to go out of his sails a bit, tilting his head. "Are you sure, Lovely? Nadia will be disappointed. Portia, too."

She sighed, nodding, sorry to have let him down. "I...Yes, I'm sorry. I promised Asra and Muriel..."

"We can be late if you like. Nadia may even appreciate a spot of fashionable tardiness." Julian pressed. "I can come with you, and then we can go together."

"No, this is something I need to do alone. You go. I will see Nadia when we set off tomorrow." She stood, dusting herself off. She crossed the room to him. Julian straightened. Celeste slipped her arms around his waist, inclining her head to him. He straightened and gathered her in, long arms draped over her shoulders. "Nervous, Doc?"

He shook his head. "I have been waiting years for this, Lovely. I'm beyond ready."

Celeste smiled up at him. "Me too," she replied. "Ready for our next adventure."  And she hoped she sounded sincere. Though, in his reverie, she doubted he would catch her apprehension.

She went up on her tiptoes, and Julian bent to kiss her. It was soft and sweet. She could feel his mouth fixed in a perpetual smile—the happiest she had seen him in their entire relationship. For all her apprehension, this was worth it. Seeing him so delighted.

When their lips parted, his forehead rested against hers, his grey eye heavy-lidded. "Thank you for coming with me. There's no one else I'd rather go with."

Celeste felt her cheeks go rosy. She could never resist this look. It melted her. "I love you, Julian," she whispered.

"I love you, Celeste.." he murmured in reply, voice going husky.

She sighed, sobering at his tone.  "Let's wait for your desk to get here before we christen the office? I don't much relish the idea of splinters in my backside before we get on the boat."

Julian laughed, still heady. "Whatever you say, love. I have other ideas for your backside, anyway."

----

Celeste stood in front of the mirror, desperately trying to get her hair to behave.  Any other day, she would have been happy to throw it up in a bun and go. But, tonight was different. She wanted to look memorable.

Just now, she knew she'd make an impression. Though, it would likely be more of a nightmare than a daydream. She had fussed the waves into frizz.

She tapped her nails impatiently on the counter, tongue pressed into her cheek. She closed her eyes for a moment and drew a deep breath.

Every moment that ticked by added to her nerves. Her trepidation. She had fought to keep herself placid. Convince her self that she was ready. Keep a brave face.

She did want to try. To see something new. Be something...else. See what she could be outside of this city.  

She had fought against herself for weeks. Her anxiety was getting the better of her on more occasions than she cared to count. Despite Asra's encouragement. Despite Julian's joy.  She couldn't shake the dread.

She opened her eyes and stared at her reflection. "Nine years, Celeste. You can do a few months away. You can. No Lucio. No Morga. No demons. No devils. You can do this." she scolded herself. "Pull it together." she spat, steeling herself.

She was shaken from her pep-talk by a heavy knock coming from downstairs.

"The hell?" she said, confused and irritated. The shop had closed early. The sign was clearly posted.  Asra had gone to the hut, and Celeste had planned on meeting him and Muriel there. To say their private goodbyes.

She shook her head and moved her hands back to her hair, deciding to ignore the knock. But, another hard rap came. She called out a warning, hoping that her voice would carry.

She had quiet for a moment, but then another loud bang came. She groaned and tied her dressing gown, harried. She turned and moved quickly from the bathroom, down the stairs, swearing viciously.

She rounded the front counter, yelling. "Hey, motherfucker! We're closed! Read the goddamn sign!"

But, the knocking persisted. So, in her thin white slip of a dressing gown, she cast down the protective wards and flicked the bolt open, throwing the door open in one fell swoop, still swearing. "Listen, you feeble-minded son of a...Oh."

Muriel stood in the doorframe, looking amused. "Yeah, you're closed. Loud and clear."

Celeste blinked up at him. He was...dressed. Muriel was dressed. And well-dressed, to boot. It was no masquerade outfit (a look she had taken no real pleasure in if she was honest. Much too frilly and fussy. Not at all her Muriel.), but it was clean, and it fit him well. A buttoned-down white shirt. Black pants. Boots. Hair braided back. He was impossibly handsome. But that was just Muriel. Impossible.

Celeste was shocked. And Muriel's blush was growing with each moment she spent staring at him.

"I...Asra, he...helped."  he stammered, unable to meet her gaze any longer.

Celeste nodded, still stunned.  "...he did a hell of a job."

"Can I..." he jerked his chin, begging for entry.

"Oh, yes! I'm sorry!" Celeste stepped aside, shaking her head to break the spell. "I just...I'm astonished. This is a surprise."

Muriel ducked his head in the entryway as he stepped in. It was then that Celeste noticed the bouquet in the crook of his arm. Wildflowers. She pressed a hand to her chest, her mouth falling open anew. "Muriel...did you bring me flowers?"

He grunted his confirmation, extending the bouquet to her. They were wrapped in odd, blue paper. She took the bundle from him, bringing a finger to stroke the delicate petals of a coneflower.

"Thank you, sweetheart. They're gorgeous."

"They're flowers. You're gorgeous."  Muriel replied. Though, her hair did appear as if she'd had a struggle with a raccoon. A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. She barefoot, wearing just a white silk dressing gown. Hastily tied and barely covering anything of substance.

Celeste blushed at the compliment, her eyes falling back on Muriel. "Flatterer."

She stepped to him, and he stooped, bowing to kiss her. His fingers under her chin, drawing her up. For a moment, all her dread fell away. Rough fingers, the scent of myrrh, slightly chapped lips. Home. Muriel felt like home. Peace and safety and love.

When they broke away, her eyes fluttered open. He was smiling down at her. A full, genuine smile. It was disarming. More superb than any flower this world could conceive.

She drew a breath, trying to sober herself. "So, are you here to escort me to the forest? Is Asra joining us here?"

He shook his head. "No, I thought I would...try something else. Just us."

"Oh? What...did you have in mind?" she said, eyebrow raised.

"...Just go get dressed," he said, not wanting to reveal too much.

Was Muriel acting playful? Coy? Was Muriel...flirting? She lifted her hand to his forehead, pressing her palm against the skin. He pulled back a bit, confused.

"Just checking for a fever." she teased.  "You don't feel sick. But you are behaving...oddly."

Muriel snorted. "Go, get dressed, please."

Celeste raised her hand, relenting. "Okay, I'm going. Let me put these in water..."

He reached out and took the flowers back, almost looking panicked. "I'll take care of that. Please, go get dressed."

'Ah, yes. There he is.' Celeste thought, laughing to herself, shaking her head.

---

Celeste had wrestled her hair into compliance and dressed. A simple black dress buttoned up the front with wide lapels and a flared skirt. She was shuffling through her jewelry box while Muriel watched, reclined on the bed.

She found a pair of simple seed pearl earrings and held them in her palm, appraising them. Good enough. She slipped them into place, then went back to the jewelry box, trying to find the matching necklace.

She heard Muriel shift behind her as she shuffled through the box.

"Try this."

Celeste gave a "Hm?" as she turned to face him.

A small, wooden box in his hand.

She immediately felt her knees go weak, and she stumbled back, bracing herself on the dresser, her eyes wide. Heart thudding in her ears. "Muriel?!"

Muriel, for his part, looked genuinely bewildered. "Wha--are you okay?"

"Is that...are you...are you pro--" she stammered, eyes locked on the box in his hand, torn between panic and elation.

"Pr--Oh. Oh!" he barked, his panicked expression matching hers when he realized what she thought was happening. "No! I'm not...I mean..." He opened the box, presenting it to her.

It was an herb locket. It was meant for holding charms. Golden. Swirling metal tendrils in an orb shape, held with a tiny clasp. She could see the tiny chips of myrrh held inside. It was elegant. So much more sophisticated than the bundles she carried, even now that the curse was broken.  Celeste straightened, catching her breath, reaching her hand out to touch it.

"Oh, darling," she whispered. "It's lovely. Thank you."

"You're not disappointed that it's not a ring?" he asked, watching her expression.

"That feels like a trick question, and I decline to answer." She said, meeting his eyes. "I love this. It's perfect."

Muriel nodded. He couldn't disagree with her assessment. It was, in fact, a loaded question. And, he was lying to himself if he said he hadn't considered it.

"Will you put it on for me?" she asked, turning around, lifting her hair from the nape of her neck.  

He lifted the necklace from the box, reaching past her to lay the container on the dresser. He brought the delicate chain around her throat. He fumbled with the tiny clasp. Big fingers not quite adept with such diminutive closures. But, he fastened it.

Celeste ran her fingers over the charm and turned to look up at him.

Her eyes were soft. They were reflecting devotion and love.

"It suits you," Muriel stated plainly, bringing his hand up to cup her cheek, running his thumb along the soft flesh.

"All these gifts. I feel...utterly bereft. I feel like I should give something to you."

He shook his head. "Stay with me. That's all the gift I need."

Celeste was satisfied with her self that she didn't flinch at his answer. Though, it stung badly.

"I'm always with you, Muriel. Always." She responded voice sweet, and placid.

Muriel knew her well enough to know when she wasn't engaging. That was alright. He had all night to drive the point home.

"Are you ready?" He asked, breaking the tension.

Celeste nodded. "Lead the way."

----

Celeste knew precisely where they were. She had made this journey many times. Never with Muriel. It made no sense to her.

Her arm was linked with Muriel's. She could feel the tension radiating off of him. He was better in public, but he wasn't exactly great. Curse or no curse, he would, by and large, prefer to go unseen. He was staring straight ahead and ignoring the onlookers' stares.

"Em...Sweetheart? Angel? Light of my life?" Celeste said, growing more concerned as they forged forward. "Why exactly are we going to the South End?"

"Going on a date." He replied. Succinct.

"In the South End?"

He nodded, eyes still fixed on the road ahead.

"Muriel, darling? Are we going to The Raven?" she ventured.

He grunted his confirmation, and Celeste's eyes went wide, turning her attention back to the road ahead, blinking slowly.

Celeste wasn't sure what to say. She wanted to ask him if he had lost his goddamn mind. But, when it came to Muriel and trying new things, she was always cautious about redirecting him. It was important to her that he did try something.

But this seemed like a lot. Especially when she had fully anticipated spending the night in bed.

She had spent her fair share of evenings in the Rowdy Fucking Raven. Things were rarely, if ever, calm. Hence the name. She could pray for a quiet evening. But, she could easily see this becoming a nightmare for Muriel.

When they finally came to the tavern, Muriel paused outside the door—steeling himself.

"Muriel," Celeste said, bringing her free hand up to his bicep, giving a gentle squeeze. "Vesuvia is a big city. There are a lot of places that aren't The Rowdy Raven. We can even just...walk around. Go back to the shop. Go to the hut..."

"No. I can do this. You come here, don't you?" he asked, but his tone was a bit shaky.

"Yes, and I've ended up having to patch up more idiots after barfights than I care to recall. It's what pays for most of my drinks. I'm practically on the payroll." She replied.

"If you can do this, so can I," he said, seemingly finding his resolve and moving to the door.

Celeste shook her head and followed behind, bracing herself for impact.

It was, thankfully, still relatively calm. There was a band playing. Not a particularly good one, but serviceable. Quite a few patrons, but nobody actively bleeding that she could see. Blessing enough.

Barth looked up from drawing a drink, and his eyes fell on Muriel. The liquid flowing into the tankard continued to rise, spilling over the rim of the container. Utterly shocked at the man who had entered. Several other heads turned as well, eyes going wide. One of the musician's timing went wildly off as he was distracted by the newcomer.

Celeste waved and called out the barkeeps' name, trying to break his reverie. "Barth! Any way we can get a corner booth?"

The man blinked and shook his head, swearing at the spilled ale and righting the tap. "Oh! Cela, love! You've got the run of the place! Your usual?"

She nodded. "Dark and stormy. And Mead for him?"

"You got it, Angelface."

She pulled Muriel along after her to the back corner. She found the booth occupied by a regular. Quite drunk. Quite asleep. "Randall?" she said, sweet, tapping the man on the leg. "Gotta get up for me, darling. Barth has something for you up at the bar."

The man stirred. He was groaning loudly in protest.

"Randy," she said, a bit more authoritative. "Move your ass."

The man made another heinous groan but lurched up. He was blearily shifting out of the booth, muttering something under his breath. Celeste shook her head.

"Tell Barth to get you a black coffee. On me." She said, patting the man on the back as he stumbled away, waving her off.

Muriel watched her, shocked to see how easily she navigated the chaos.

She slid into one side of the booth, and Muriel took the opposite side, looking her over.

"Oh, you thought I was joking about being on the payroll, didn't you?" she said, lifting an eyebrow, teasing.

He nodded, not quite sure what to make of it. He had seen the woman drink. After one glass, her cheeks and nose went red.  Usually, after her second glass of wine, she required someone to hold her hand so she could walk. Not precisely standard barroom fare.

Barth personally delivered their drinks, smiling broadly. "So, Angelface. Tomorrow is the big day, isn't it? Come for some liquid courage?"

"It is. You coming down to the docks to see your best customer off?" She smiled back.

"You or Doc? He's the best, but you're my favorite." The man winked. "Will he be joining us this evening?"

Celeste pulled a face. "Doubtful, unless he comes down for last call. But, I have a feeling he's getting the top-shelf stuff tonight—dinner with the Countess."

Barth nodded, looking impressed. "Well, I don't know if I can get away. But I'm glad to see you tonight. And, the Big One, too." He said, turning to Muriel, who had been watching the exchange, rapt. Barth extended his hand. "Good to meet you..."

Muriel lifted his hand to shake Barth's but did not respond. Barth's eyes fell back on Celeste.

"This is my Muriel," she answered for him.

"It's good to put a name to the legend, Muriel. Welcome to the Raven." Barth finished, clapping his other hand over the top of their joined hands, giving an affectionate pat. "Well, I'll let you get back to it. Whistle if you need me." He finished, releasing Muriel. He moved to the other side of the booth and leaned in, kissing Celeste's cheek. "Take care of yourself, Love. Gonna miss you something fierce."

Celeste turned to kiss Barth's other cheek, reaching down to squeeze his hand. "Keep the place standing. I'll be back soon."

When Barth had departed, Celeste extended her hand across the table to Muriel. He took her hand, stroking his thumb across her knuckles.

"So, do you want to tell me why we're here?" She asked, searching his face.

"Because I want to go on a date with the woman I love."

Celeste made a noise of understanding. "So how long did you and Asra sit around prepare this for me?"

Muriel's brow furrowed. He knew it wasn't precisely opaque, but he had hoped she'd be somewhat more receptive to the attempts.

"Don't blame Asra. I...wanted you to see me..." he trailed off, trying to find the words. "See me try. Do the things that you do with--"

"Julian." she finished for him, eyebrow raised.

He nodded. She sighed.

As the pieces started clicking into place, she picked up her drink and took a long sip, eyes closed.

The past few weeks had been a strain, to put it mildly. Muriel had taken the initial announcement badly. He had been tolerant of her relationship with Julian. But leaving Vesuvia, together, for months was more than Muriel was prepared to deal with. So, he hadn't. He had all but refused to speak about it.

Muriel made more trips to the city to see her. When she stayed at the hut, he kept her as long as he possibly could—holding her tighter—fucking her longer and harder. Silent but desperate pleas.

He had lost her twice. Death. And that should have been the end of it. But, she had come back to him. Only to be ripped away by his curse all over again. He finally had her. He wanted to respect that she was learning to navigate the world with the new knowledge of her own past. But, he also wanted her. And he had her. And he did not want to let her go.

Asra was part of the deal. That was how it was meant to be. Julian was not. And now he was stealing her away.

"Muriel, I am coming home. This isn't forever."

It was his turn to drink. He didn't drop her gaze as he imbibed.

When he was sated, he sat the tankard down and took a sharp breath.

"That's something else I wanted to discuss with you...Home. Whose home are you coming back to?"

Celeste narrowed her eyes, trying to parse what he was asking.

"I'm coming home to Vesuvia," she unsure of how to answer.

"Are you coming home to the shop? Home to Julian's apartment? Or home...to me?"

"I always come home to you, Muriel. I also live at the shop, and I stay with Julian," she said, shaking her head. "What are you asking?"

"I want to give you a home. Our home. I want you home with me. I am asking you to stay with me."

Celeste had emotional whiplash already. First, from what she thought was a proposal. And now, this, which also felt like a proposition.

"So, you're asking me to move into the hut permanently?"

"Not exactly."

Celeste pressed her tongue into her cheek, baffled, her irritation growing.

"Why today, Muriel?"

"Last-ditch effort," he responded, more quickly than either of them anticipated.

Celeste released his hand and crossed her arms across her chest.

"Elaborate, please," she said tersely.

"I don't feel like I need to. I want you to stay with me. I want to have a home with you. It seems simple."

"When I'm with you, I'm home."

Muriel drew a deep breath. "I want more than that. I want you to choose to stay with me. I want to build a life with you. I want to give you a home. I love you. I want you to stay."

Celeste softened, deflating a bit from her incredulity. "I want to stay. I do. But... I need to do this. It's a few days in the grand scheme of things. I will come home to you."

Muriel closed his eyes, considering his words. "What...do you need to do that I can't be with you for? Why do you have to leave me?"

"Would you come with me if I asked you to?"  Celeste retorted before taking another drink.

Muriel blinked at her, reeling a bit.  That was a response he hadn't considered. Going with her? With Julian?

When he didn't respond, she made a vague gesture of dismissal. "I guess we're at an impasse, then."

They sat quietly for a long moment, drinking. Muriel extended his hand again, searching for hers. Celeste relented, giving his fingers a squeeze.

"I don't want to argue with you. Not today." He said, low, his eyes downcast.

The music shifted. A slow song. There was a shuffle of chairs and barstools as the dance floor occupants adjusted. Some joining with their partners, others falling away to make room.

Celeste sighed and moved to stand, hand still connected to Muriel's. He eyed her warily.

"It's not the Masquerade. Everyone is drunk. Come on." she said, coaxing him out.

Muriel narrowed his eyes but followed. When he stood, Celeste took both his hands, pulling him backward toward the dance floor.

She pulled his hands to her waist and moved her arms around his torso, finding her favorite spot. Head on his chest. She heard a familiar wolf-whistle from the bar and gave a laugh. Barth, cheering them on.

Celeste took the "lead." Whatever that looked like. They simply stood in the circle of each other's embrace, swaying to the music. No attempts at dipping one another. No spins or twirls. No fancy footwork. Just nearness.

Muriel's hands were firm at her waist, looking down at her as they rocked. The way her eyes fluttered shut, and she breathed him in. As if there were no one else in the world watching. He could feel the eyes, but just now, he could push their stares away. The lantern light playing in her hair. Her skin glowing. Cheek just the slightest bit flushed from drink.

His Celeste. The great love of his life. In front of all these people, completely at ease in his hands. Never afraid of him.

When the music subsided, there was a smattering of laughter. For the musicians, Muriel thought and turned to the stage. When he found all the eyes on them, he blushed wildly. Celeste laughed, shaking her head.

"Why are they...?" he asked, bewildered.

"It's not every day they get a folk hero in their bar."

"Hero?" His tone was incredulous.

"The imprisoned Gladiator that defeated the devil himself? It's a favorite story around here." She said, giving his hand a squeeze.

"You know it wasn't quite that simple," he said, looking down at her.

"Smile and wave, Darling. Your public adores you." she teased.

"Give us a kiss, Love!" Barth called out from behind the bar, and there was a swell of other voices, cheering them on. Some glasses and tankers banging on various table tops. A low chant of "Kiss, Kiss, Kiss."

Muriel blinked, caught off guard. Celeste smiled up at him. "Should we--"

She was suddenly off her feet, swept up in his arms and dipped low for a kiss. Celeste scrambled blindly, hands trying to find purchase on him. His lips were heavy and hot against hers. His hand at the back of her head, his other arm around her back, holding her aloft and horizontal to the ground.

After a long moment, he released her. She was breathless, heart pounding. The din of the crowd was deafening. He carefully lowered her back to the ground. His face looked positively mischevious.

"I'd like to take you back to the shop now." Muriel said, husky.

Celeste nodded rapidly.

He had her by the hand and moved swiftly for the door, Celeste had the presence of mind to look back at Barth, who waved her on. "On me!"

---

They practically fell into the shop once Celeste managed to wrestle the door open. Muriel kicked it shut with a bang. Muriel hoisted her up onto the countertop and was immediately on his knees in front of her.

He was thwarted by her crinoline and groaned, frustrated. Celeste was fumbling with buttons, not quite able to manage them. "Fuck the dress," she said breathlessly.  And Muriel nodded, his hands coming to her lapels and yanking roughly. The fabric rended like paper under his hands, leaving her exposed. She shed the sleeves, and he tugged the crinoline away, tossing it aside in a heap.

His mouth was on her in an instant, and her legs were over his shoulders. Muriel could feel her boot heels pressing into his shoulders, drawing him into her. He brought his hands up to her waist, holding her in place, so she didn't slip off the counter.

His tongue parted the outer lips of her sex, and darted out to find her clit. She was already soaking wet, her fluids drenching his mouth. Celeste hissed above him, her hands in his hair, the braids falling loose from the various stops they had made en route to the shop, unable to suppress their need.

His lips closed around the bud, and he sucked gently. She was calling out his name above him, held securely in place, but still tensing and writhing, back arching. He ventured a hand upwards, finding her breast and cupping it, thumb finding her nipple, brushing his calloused thumb across.

He could feel his cock straining against the trousers, painfully. He fucking hated these clothes. All these buttons and fastenings. He pulled away from Celeste's cunt, and she whined. "Just-- just a second," he said, releasing her breast and reaching down to find the buttons at the fly. He managed to undo the top fastenings and slide them down far enough to allow his member to spring free. He gave a satisfied sigh when he could take himself in hand, stroking.

He returned to his ministrations, tongue seeking out her canal. Dripping with desire. He lapped away the slick with long strokes, thrusting in and out of the hole, drinking her in. She was so warm and wet, and the smell saturated his senses, overwhelming him.

"Muriel..." Celeste hissed, trying to draw him up. He pulled back and stared up at her, mouth slightly agape, eyes heavy-lidded. She didn't need to ask. He knew.

He pushed himself up off the floor. Celeste's legs were still on his shoulders, but she shifted herself so she could lay back on the counter, head falling over the edge.

The counter put her at the perfect height for him. He moved his hand along the planes of her stomach, feeling the way she fluttered under his touch with anticipation. He slid his fingers through her curls, noticing, for the first time, that she had groomed her pubic hair. The smattering of dark curls on her stomach shaved away and the shape altered. Refined.

He clenched his jaw, staring down at the smooth skin, running his fingertips over the bare spaces.

He felt something inside him snap, and he grabbed his cock in hand, finding her entrance and thrusting roughly. Celeste made to cry out from shock, but her breath was caught in a cough. The violent contraction of her body sending her cunt into a spasm around him.

Muriel rocked into her with long, slow strokes to accommodate for his initial roughness. But, his hand stayed firm on her stomach, not allowing her to rise, keeping her down. He could feel himself moving within her.

Celeste was pressed against him, barely able to move, legs straight up. Muriel was deep inside her from the first stroke. She was still trying to catch her breath, but the shock was giving way to pleasure. The exquisite stretch of being filled by his cock. She felt each inch as he withdrew. The ridges and veins, the swell of the head. Moving fluidly inside her, coated in her slick.

Muriel's movements became more frenzied, with each keen and gasp that came from Celeste's lips. The wet sounds that came from between her legs. The thud of his hips against the backs of her thighs.

She came for him, wetness surging from her, her walls clenching as he continued fucking her, hitting her deepest and most sensitive places.

When he was close, he withdrew from her and took his cock in hand, stroking himself to completion. Hot, thick spurts of come on her belly, on her mons. He groaned with each spasm, head falling back.

When he was spent, he took a deep breath, bracing himself on the countertop. He looked down at Celeste, covered in his seed. He released his cock and reached up to take her by the wrist, bringing her hand to the sticky mess, drawing her fingers through the substance, making her spread it across the bare places that she had shaved.

Celeste was still in a haze from her orgasm. But she realized, even in her daze, his point. She should have known he wouldn't have been pleased. She sighed to herself, allowing him to move her hands.

When he was satisfied, he pulled her up, sliding his hand under her back and drawing her up. He brought her fingers to his lips, drawing them into his mouth, sucking away the remaining come. One finger at a time. Celeste watched the display. Soft lips wrapping around the digits. Tasting himself on her skin.

When her fingers were cleaned, he drew her hand up to his neck and leaned in to kiss her. It was positively chaste compared to his previous actions. Soft and tender. When they parted, he pressed his forehead against hers, staring intensely into her eyes.

Celeste stroked her fingers across the nape of his neck, a ghost of a smile on her lips.

"Mine." Muriel whispered. Not a question. An assertion.

"Yours. Always yours."  Celeste replied.

Momentarily satisfied, Muriel pulled back, hitching his pants again, situating his softened member. When he was settled, he moved to sweep Celeste into his arms. Bridal style. Celeste laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Bath," he said shortly, moving towards the back of the shop to the staircase.

---

Celeste had always been a big fan of the bath in the shop. It was ridiculously large. Now that she knew Muriel, she assumed it was an accommodation Asra had made just in case. It wasn't nearly the size of the baths in the palace, of course. But she didn't need a swimming pool. She liked being pressed up against Muriel, between his thighs.

He was stroking a soapy cloth over her body. Lazy, languid circles. She was melted against him, eyes closed.

"Cela?"

"Hm?"

Muriel sat the cloth aside and brought his hand to the necklace, rolling the orb between his fingers thoughtfully.

"If it had been a ring..."

"...I would have said yes."

Muriel sighed.

"Then, I'm asking."

Celeste tensed, and her eyes shot open.  

"Why?" she asked, dubious.

"Because I love you. Because I want you..."

Celeste stared up at the ceiling, measuring her response carefully. "Okay. I will marry you...but I'm leaving tomorrow. We can plan the wedding when I get back."

Muriel swore. "God damn it, Celeste."

Celeste made a noise of confirmation and planted her hands on the sides of the tub, pushing herself out of the water, stepping out. He caught her wrist, but she wrenched out of his slippery grip.

"I'm not doing this, Muriel," she said, beyond exasperated. She was offended. She grabbed a bath towel and wrapped herself in it. "I'm having a hard enough time, I do not need this from you. I am going, and you'll either be here waiting, or you won't."

Muriel was up and after her, watching as she swept out of the bathroom while he fumbled with a towel. "Celeste, we love each other. Why do you insist on leaving me over and over again? I'm so...tired of being left."

"You don't think I know that? Don't you know how selfish I feel? But I have to do this for myself. I am going. I have to go--"

"You don't." Muriel bit out. "Once you wept to leave me. You fought against death to get back to me. And I have been patient. I have given up everything for us. And I have been tolerant. But, there was always supposed to be an end to this...you were my promise, Celeste. We're supposed to be together."

"I didn't make any fucking deals, Muriel. I had nothing to do with any of this," she shouted back. "What you and Asra did I am grateful for, but I am not indebted to either of you. I made no deals.  I stood by your side. I fought alongside you. I went through hell. You made deals. Not me. And if I want to get on a fucking boat and go be something else for a couple months, I'm going to do it."

Muriel stood to his full height, eyes hard, jaw set. Then, in an instant, he was going down the stairs, sending Celeste reeling.

"Where are you going?" She called after him, following after.

When she caught up to him, he had the bouquet in his hand, unwrapping the flowers from the blue paper. Celeste watched him, eyebrow raised. He thrust the paper at her.

"What is..."

"Fucking look at it." he spat.

Celeste laid the paper out on the countertop, squinting at it.

They were plans. Blueprints.

She clutched the towel to her chest with one hand and stroked the lines on the page with the fingertips of the other. It was a house. A cabin.

She looked up at Muriel, who was scowling.

"I want you to stay. I want to make a home with you. I love you." He growled.

"Oh...Muriel." Celeste said, righting herself. "This is for us? This is our home?"

"Stay," he stated, his tone still biting.

"You're building this for us?"  Celeste asked, her lip trembling.

"Stay," he repeated, his harshness fading. "I need you to stay."

"We can still have this. I am coming home." Celeste felt the first tear fall. "I want this, I want the same thing you do..."

Muriel drew a shuddering breath. "Why do I keep losing you? What am I doing wrong? Why do you keep leaving me?"

"I don't know how else to explain the distinction between going on a trip from which I will return and leaving you," she said, trying to keep her composure. "I love you. I don't ever want to leave you."

"But you don't love me enough to stay." he retorted. "Not enough to realize that I want you. I will give everything in the world away for you. I want to give you my whole heart for my whole life."

"You have had a decade to love me. I didn't know...I need to leave for a little bit and see the world with clear eyes. I just...please. Understand."

"I'm trying. I am. But I'm tired. I'm ready for you. I'm ready now." Muriel pleaded. "Please don't leave, Celeste."

"Come with me," she said, crossing the room to him, looking up into his eyes. "You're free, too. Nothing is holding you here. Come with me. See the world with me."

"I will go anywhere with you. With you. I will not go with Julian."

"I made a commitment."

"You made a promise. To me. Long before Julian."

"I will keep my promise. I will."

"When? After he takes you halfway around the world where I can't get to you? Gets you pregnant? He decides that he doesn't want to come home? That he wants you to stay with him?"

"Why don't you trust me? I am coming back."

"I trust you. I don't trust Julian. And I do not trust him with you in the slightest. He will try to keep you. And I won't be able to get you back."

Celeste shook her head. "I don't know how to make this better for you. I love Julian. I love Asra. But...you have to know that I choose you. I choose us," she paused, wiping tears away. "But, I deserve your respect. I deserve to take my time."

Muriel nodded, defeated. "Then, I guess you're going. There's nothing left to say." He stepped past her, back to the staircase.

Celeste was frozen in place, watching him go.

After a long while He descended the stairs, dressed. He stopped in front of her, silent tears falling.

He placed his hands on her shoulders, fixing his eyes on hers. "Stay with me, Celeste. Stay."

She was shivering, trembling. "I can't." she forced out. Her tone all regret.

Muriel nodded, his heart broken. "Fine." He spoke, his tone cold.

And then, he was gone, across the shop and out the door in an instant.

---

Celeste stood, side by side with Julian at the docks. The ship behind them.

Portia and Nadia to one side, hands clasped. Portia nearly in tears as Nadia repeated all the ways in which she would be missed.

Asra stood in front of Celeste. He had been apprised of the rudiments from the previous evening's activities. First by Muriel, then by Celeste. His eyes were sad. Because she was leaving, of course. But, because he had hoped that it would work.

Asra would never be the one to hold Celeste. He felt it would be hypocritical to do so, after all she had put up with. And now, all she was contending with regarding her new-found knowledge. He knew the peace that came with being away from the strains and stresses of daily life. To retreat. To be free.

But it still hurt to see her go.

"You're going to come home to me, right?" Asra said, trying to force a lilt into his voice.

Celeste nodded. "Always, Asra. My Heart." She placed her hand on her chest. "I'm always just a heartbeat away."

Asra leaned in to kiss her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, fighting back the urge to break down in tears all over again.

This was supposed to be a happy day. A fresh start.

Asra's grip was tight, holding her to him, his kiss feverish.  His mind calling out to make her stay. Find a way. Do whatever it takes.

But, he had already done that. He had found a way to keep her.

Celeste was his.

But, most wonderfully, she belonged entirely to herself. Free to choose. To live her life. And how lucky they all were to have her. That she chose all of them. Loved all of them.

His heart had been a gift. It wasn’t a life sentence. 

When their kiss ended, their foreheads were pressed together. Hearts beating in sync.

"I love you, Asra," she whispered.

"I love you, Celeste. Oh, how I love you." Asra replied, his voice wavering.

From above them, there was a sharp whistle. Mazelinka, looking equally amused and irritated. "Alright, Lovebirds! We're pushing off!"

Celeste's eyes went wide with panic, pulling back from Asra, looking over his shoulder. Asra caught her gaze and turned to follow it.

There was nothing. A line of well-wishers, offering similar sentiments to their loved ones before they boarded.

No Muriel.

She sighed. Asra felt his heart skip a beat. He turned back to her, giving a sympathetic look. "He...hates the docks." He offered.

Celeste gave a rueful laugh. "Well...he hates...something, that's for sure."

"Sweetheart...no. He...doesn't hate you. He could never hate you."

Julian's hand fell on her shoulder, giving an affectionate squeeze. "If you want, I can tell Maz to hold off a little longer."

Celeste drew a sharp breath and shook her head. "No...It's time." She said relenting. Turning to smile up at Julian. "We're free, Julian. As free as we'll ever be again."

He grinned broadly. "Oh, you lovely, lovely woman."

Asra caught her free hand and gave it a squeeze, tears threatening to fall. "Be safe. If you need me..."

Celeste laughed and nodded. "I'll be surrounded by water. I know where to find you."

She leaned in to give him one last kiss. Delicate and short.

Asra released her hand and looked up to Julian. "Take care of my Heart, Ilya," he said, his tone a warning.

"You have my word, Asra," Julian said, sincere.

Maz whistled again, less amused this time, staring down at Julian with a hard look. He smiled back, unphased, but when he turned to look at Celeste, she could see the slight dread on his features.

"Time to go?" she asked sarcastically.

Julian nodded. "Before she finds things to throw."

---

Celeste stood with Julian at the side of the boat. His arm was around her waist. Julian eagerly waving at the remaining wellwishers.

Asra and Nadia stood side by side after vowing to watch them over the Horizon line.

When the boat finally began moving away from the dock, she rested her hand over her heart, and Asra mirrored her.

Then, Asra felt his heart drop and saw Celeste's face shift.

Muriel stood at the top of the docks, watching as the boat was unmoored and began to move away.

Julian, to his credit, did rush to the captain to try to convince him to stop and was met with a firm, hearty "Fuck you. No."

Asra rushed up the docks to Muriel, who met him halfway.

"You didn't stop her?" Muriel asked, eyes wide.

"How the hell was I supposed to know that you were coming?" Asra retorted, looking back at the boat that was well away from the dock now. He whirled back to Muriel. "What is...do you have a bag?" Asra's mouth fell open, looking at the satchel that Muriel was carrying. "Oh, fuck."

"Can I get to her?" he asked, trying to figure out what to do.

"I...don't...Nadia?" Asra said, looking for a solution.

Nadia shook her head. "I'm afraid not. They generally won't turn back." She said, her tone compassionate. "We might be able to send another boat after them? Meet them at their next port?"

Muriel sighed, shaking his head. "I thought I had time."

"Muriel, we can figure this out," Asra said, reaching out to rest his hand on Muriel's arm. "We can get you to her."

"No." he said, setting his jaw, eyes going dark.

"Muriel.." Asra began, but Muriel turned and walked away, eyes cast down.

Asra looked back at the boat, then to Muriel. He swore, and chase after him, calling his name.

---

Celeste stood, shocked. Cold all over. Portia stood at her side, a hand on her back, trying to settle her down.

"Can...can I get off?" Celeste asked, her voice shaky.

"No, I'm sorry, sweetie! But, I'm sure Nadia will figure something out." Portia offered sweetly.

"I can swim. Can I jump?"

Julian came back from the captain and his eye went wide. "No, you may absolutely not jump."

"Julian...he came. He won't understand. I have to go back." She broke away from Portia, rounding on Julian.

"I know, I know." He said, catching her by her upper arms. "Nadia will figure something out. We've got Malak. We can send word back. It will be fine."

"He won't understand..."

Julian's sympathetic expression shifted, eye narrowing. "He's a grown man, Celeste. He made a choice. You asked him to come, and he waited until the last possible moment to make a decision. He'll be here when we get back, or he'll figure it out."

Celeste sobered a bit. She couldn't argue with that. She sighed, looking back over her shoulder. The docks further away with each second.

And Muriel, followed by Asra, retreating.

[authoressskr]

Write Into My Arms [1]

Characters: f!Reader, James “Bucky” Barnes, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, James “Rhodey” Rhodes, Peter Parker, Hope Van Dyne, Natasha Romanoff, Scott Lang, Wanda Maximoff, Vision, Okoye, T’Challa, Shuri, Clint Barton, Happy Hogan, Dr. Strange, Wong, Bruce Banner, Amelina Rodrigez (OFC), with mentions of Thor, Carol Danvers, Rocket Raccoon, Groot, Peter Quill, Gamora, Nebula, Mantis and Drax.

Warnings: Language, Action (in last chapter) and no Beta (just me and Grammerly up in here)  ::  Word Count: 8885  ::  Pairing: Bucky x f!Reader

This was written for @jewelofwinter’s Writing Challenge!! I also incorporated a prompt for @jaamesbbarnes + @sgtjbuccky’s D&S’ Milestone Celebration!!

Prompt: “Tin Man lost Y/N.” (@jewelofwinter’s prompt) + “Publicly, I agree. Personally, I think it’s chickenshit.” (D&S’ prompt) Bolded in text below. Prompt #1 will appear in the third part while Prompt #2 appears in the second part. The next two parts will be posted by the end of this week. All three will be linked.

Summary: You’re a small time blog writer who is invited to interview the Avengers. ALL the Avengers. 

Please do NOT repost, copy & paste, post or share my works on any other platform without my EXPRESS PERMISSION.

-+- REBLOGGING is fine and very appreciated! -+-

Looking around the compound’s living room, you can’t help but openly stare. Everything is expensive, even the doorknobs seem to know their elevated worth.

You’ve circled the room three times so far, each time slower than the last as your keen eyes searching out every minute detail. You’ve been waiting for nearly twenty minutes, which isn’t too much of a bother, and from what you’d heard from other reporters and writers isn’t that long of a wait for Tony Stark. Although your boss said that the article was supposed to cover all of the inhouse Avengers…

Happy, Tony’s chauffeur/bodyguard and right-hand man, had brought you into this room and at this point, your overthinking has begun to wonder if being made to wait here is a diversion so that he can get all the Avengers to clear out. After all, Stark Industries controls most of the press about the Avengers and they don’t do interviews...except Tony and every so often, the good Captain Rogers.

You wonder briefly if watching some YouTube would be extremely unprofessional or just a mild, millennial version of unprofessionalism.

Deciding against it, you sit on the plushest and buttery soft black leather couch, fishing around your large purse for your notebook. Carefully flipping past the first pages, you look over the list of Avengers you’ve compiled - along with basic stats, going over them for the umpteenth time since being assigned this article. And, being the person you are, you had arranged them by age, willingness to talk to you, and then on difficulty on opening up for the story.

Fishing out a pen, you make a few last-minute notes, only to feel that tell-tale prickle at the back of your neck alerts you to the three figures lingering in the large entryway that leads towards a hallway. You pop up, smoothing out your dress bottom nervously.

“Oh! Hello. I’m Y/N, writer for Undefined Muses. I’m, uh, here to interview you?”

“You don’t seem to know if you are or not,” Hawkeye, Clint Barton, says with a big smile - the last yellow traces of a bruise fading on his left cheek.

“I wasn’t sure who all had agreed to participate - and I don’t want to force anyone to do if they aren’t interested.”

“Normally, the reporters are kind of rabid about these kinds of interviews,” Natasha replies smoothly, moving into the room and perching on the arm of an oversized loveseat. She’s dressed impeccably, looking like a glamorous movie star from the thirties, with high waist black dress pants and a dark blue silk shirt with tiny red roses dotted all over.

“Well, my boss sent me because I’m,” You pause, searching for the right word. “Demure.”

“I honestly was waiting for you to say ‘unrabid’.” Clint chuckles out, tossing himself into the loveseat that Natasha is perched on directly across from where you stand.

“I’m not sure what writer would use the word ‘unrabid’. I’m also 90% sure that isn’t a word.”

“Only 90%?” Natasha queries, smiling so knowingly it makes you a little wary.

“Well, he said it, so thus it has been made a word. But you won’t find it in a dictionary. So yes, 90%.”

The large brunet, whom you knew as James Barnes, still stood by the hallway they must have come from, watching the interactions with storm blue eyes. Your shoulders tighten, straightening as you realize that they’d sent all the previous assassins in first. Quite the unsettling welcome wagon… Wait. Was this a weird sort of game? Like chicken? You very nearly chuckle, if that’s the case, because little did these people know you weren’t the bravest person - content with hiding behind your words, telling others amazing and heart wrenching stories.

“Will you all be participating?” You finally manage to get out with a smile without nerves making it forced.

“They will,” Comes the answer from behind you - Tony Stark himself, Iron Man in the flesh, says with a confidence you’d only seen on tv. “Miss Y/L/N. So glad you could make it. Plane ride enjoyable?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you so much for the use of your plane.” He waves a hand as he flashes a megawatt smile.

“No problem. No problem at all. Now, I know they’ve probably introduced themselves but that is Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, and one of the 100 plus pair, Bucky Barnes.”

“Nice to meet you all,” They all nod as Tony rubs his hands together then claps.

“Now, I’ll show you where you’ll be staying, I’ll have Happy drop your luggage in there while I show you around -”

“I’m sorry - uh, staying?” You tilt your head a tad to the left, blinking at the illustrious Mr. Stark.

“Yes. Of course, you’ll be staying here in the compound. Rhodey, Steve, and Sam are headed home as we speak, should be here sometime early tonight. Wanda and Vision are on their way back, they were having brunch at a nearby vineyard. Oh, and Thor, the Guardians of the Galaxy, and Captain Danvers should be in - oh, I don’t know - maybe 3 or 4 days. Everyone else is on site.” Logically, you know your mouth is open. You also know you should close it, but the shock…

Every. Single. Avenger.

Fuck.

“Um, I just...Sir, I didn’t mean...I only just brought...ALL OF THEM??”

“To answer your oh so eloquent questions, I did tell your boss I would be getting you as many as possible. I would have thought Mrs. Rodrigez, was it?, would have conveyed the seriousness,” He gives a little huff, smile firmly in place. “Anyhow, you’ll manage. FRIDAY will have a list of shops that will deliver here - we have a tab, just feel free to add to it.”

“Sir -”

“Tony,” He corrects.

“Tony. I will manage my own clothes, thank you. My boss did stress the importance of this interview block. I was told, however, that this was by choice for the Avengers or Stark Industries staff. Not that you’d make them come from outer space to be riddled with questions. And, Tony, I honestly don’t know why our little site was chosen to write these interviews to begin with, sir. How do you even know who I am…” You were so focused on Tony that you hadn’t realized that Wanda Maximoff, Vision, Pepper Potts (Stark?), Bruce Banner, Scott Lang, Hope Van Dyne and a man of Asian descent you couldn’t place had entered the room. Tony moves closer, peering over the couch and down into your purse, finger pulling at one of the edges to see into it.

“Well, that’s simple. I asked for you.” Eyebrows shoot upward in shock before your forehead furrows. “See, Pep read a piece you did on library and book importance - specifically in young and all school-age children. It was lying around, so I read it. And you know what? I liked the emotion. The thoughtfulness behind it. Every word was picked with such care - constructed to paint a picture. And that’s what I want you to do for us.” He gestures for you to sit, which you give a gentle shake of your head at and takes up the seat you’d been in before. He leans forward, one elbow balanced on his knee as he looks up at you. “We get good press, bad press too, but I want people to see the big picture. We’re a team. We’re a family. We sacrifice a lot to be able to do what we do. Paint that picture for me.” The spell Tony seemed to have cast on you raised and you look around to see the whole room staring at you, waiting.

You swallow hard and nod a couple of times. “I’ll do my best, Tony.” He rises and gives a nod of his own, flashing you a smile tinged with sadness that he quickly hides.

“Good. Good. Let’s get you into a guest room and then the tour. But first, some more introductions.”

::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx::

The voice in your room, in all the building you suppose, FRIDAY as she introduced herself, announced that dinner would be casual dress and served in an hour. Tony had been a gracious host, informing you he’d canceled your room at the winery - that, coincidentally, Wanda and Vision had been having brunch at earlier - before sashaying around the compound with Pepper, Scott, and Hope all in tow like a little tour group. Tony dutifully recited when it was built, remodeled, rebuilt. The layout and their functions. He adds little tidbits about visiting when he was little, making everything a little more real for you. You walk beside him, with him sometimes latching onto your elbow as you talk softly into your recorder, reminding yourself to get pictures of certain areas later with your camera.

It had been nice, Scott was witty and said aloud most of the smart ass comments you’d been thinking. Pepper kept Tony focused and Hope spent as much time as you did asking questions. The tour of the basic facilities ended back where it had begun in the living room, rain beginning to splatter against the massive wall of windows to your left.

You’d managed to find your way back to the room, 5th on the right, to find your overnight bag sitting on the end of the bed next to a plush white robe and a note from Tony stating he’d still asked for the stores to bring over things for you to pick out tomorrow and not to bother fighting him on it. Kicking off your shoes, you’d wandered over to the floor-to-ceiling window in your room to watch the raindrops slide down the glass, tucking your legs under you as you sat on the very soft, thick carpet with your notebook and pen.

Amelina, your boss and best friend, had bought you a gray, faux-leather sunflower embossed one to butter you up. Your little addiction and she knew it. You’d accepted the notebook and the assignment with little hesitation. Only to look at the notebook lying on your desk later and think ‘What the hell have I just done?!’

The first page is an outline of what Amelina had said she wanted from the articles (she ideally wanted to break them into separate pieces with each Avenger getting their own spotlight), your notes on the Avengers from digging online and the preliminary dates the article, or articles, would be posted on the site. Taking a deep breath you flip past the Avengers you’d already made lists for, adding the Guardians, Captain Danvers, Doctor Stranger, Wong (whom you’d met earlier), adding Scott and Hope as well, since they are West Coast-based and you had a 50/50 chance of actually interviewing them initially.

Your recorder would hold the interviews, your verbal notes and memos to take pictures of certain locations...but your gray notebook, that was for your notes and thoughts on their habits, likes and dislikes based on observation, how they interact with you, and how they interact with each other.

The alarm on your phone drags you away from writing a few more observations on the page designated for Pepper Potts, letting you know that you need to get up and changed for dinner. You plug your recorder in to download the tour from earlier while you change and freshen up your hair and makeup.

Your hopping on one foot, trying to shove your foot into the stupid pump when your alarm goes off again. Tossing yourself onto the end of the bed, you unplug your recorder and wiggle your foot into the pump better before heading out the door. You shove the recorder into the pocket of your skirt, making your way down the hall when the intro to “7 Rings” begins playing from the phone in your hand. With a quick swipe you answer, stopping almost halfway down the hall.

“Yes?”

“Is that any way to answer the phone?”

“It is when I’m on my way to dinner and your long-winded call could make me late.”

“Harsh, dude, harsh.” Amelina barely takes a breath before continuing. “So, whatcha got so far?”

“First of all, that isn’t how I work. How long have you known me, Lina? By the way, I’m mad at you.”

“What for?”

“You didn’t tell me I’d be staying here or that I’d be here for two weeks. I looked like an idiot in front of Tony Freaking Stark and Pepper Freaking Potts!” You hiss into the phone, tapping your foot in irritation as she chuckles on the other end of the line.

“Sorry! I honestly didn’t know how long you’d be staying -”

“Well, it’s nice that you let me know that!”

“Mr. Stark just asked how long he could have you on loan. I said a max of three weeks.”

“Oh my god, Amelina,” you groan, letting your head drop forward as you repeat in your head to breathe.

“You are such a -”

“You’re being a real bitch. I would have packed. I would have been prepared. But nooooo! Now I’m standing in a hallway wishing that your brother’s new puppy would pee in your expensive shoes!”

“Now that’s just mean!”

“I’m hanging up now. May Jedi maul all the shoes you hold dear.” You jab your thumb against the screen before taking a deep breath and continuing your trek to the living room.

::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx::

Apparently ‘casual’ at the Avengers compound is a broad term. Clint is sporting a sweatshirt with the SHIELD logo emblazoned on the front with black jogging pants and loafers. Steve has a dark blue shirt that is miraculously being held together by mere buttons, which you’re afraid if he strains, will lose their valiant efforts to keep his shirt together. His is paired with khakis and the same loafers as Clint, which amuses you for some unknown reason. Sam Wilson has a red t-shirt with a black blazer over it, dark gray jeans and some well-worn boots. As you finish taking in appearances, standing like a wallflower half-hidden by the hallway arch still, you can’t help but wonder if you should pinch yourself to see if this was reality.

Sam spots you first, or is the first to acknowledge it, and makes his way over with a friendly smile painted on his face.

“I’m Sam Wilson, nice to meet you.” His hand extends and nearly swallows your own before giving it a firm shake. You liked that. He wasn’t treating you as delicate. You detested when men did that when shaking hands with women…

“Y/N Y/L/N, nice to meet you as well.”

“Heard Tony gave you the tour.” He’s got a smirk now, eyes bright and teasing.

“Oh yeah. He offered to let me try out a suit - but only when Pepper and Steve weren’t around.”

“Killjoys,” Sam gives a serious shake of his head, chuckling as FRIDAY announces dinner is ready to be served. “Let’s get you to dinner. We’re having it in the mess hall once everyone gets here - tonight we can still have it in the actual dining room.” He offers his arm, guiding you out of the living area. “You met Bucky, right?” You give a nod, very aware the aforementioned is right behind the two of you. “His article will be the shortest. Dude’s damn near a mute unless he’s lecturing Steve, so I wish you good luck on interviewing him.”

“And here I thought that your odd friendship was all made up…” You answer slyly, hearing a snort of laughter behind you - unsure if it belongs to Steve or Bucky.

“Hey Cap, you meet the reporter?” Sam flashes you a smile as he turns the two of you around, bringing you to a hard stop so you don’t ram into the super-soldier.

“Steve Rogers, miss.” He offers his hand and gives yours a firm shake, his blue eyes holding a wariness you weren’t expecting. Captain America, wary of you? Doesn’t inspire a lot of hope in you about this whole experience…

“Y/N Y/L/N, sir.”

“Sit! Sit!” Tony orders jovially from down the table before pointing to the man at his right. “Rhodey. War Machine. Liar extraordinaire. I may need to sit in to make sure he gets all the facts straight.”

“Don’t listen to Mr. Stank over here, ma’am.”

“Unfortunately, that’s why I’m here Mr. Rhodes.” Steve pulls out your chair for you, waiting until your seated to take his seat to your left. “Thank you.”

“I think we should all get to know each other,” Tony starts, only for Rhodey to roll his eyes and Bruce to scoff from the other end of the long table.

“May I record?” You ask, watching everyone sort of tense and shuffle.

“Of course!” Tony answers as you withdraw the recorder, clicking it on and sitting it beside your plate.

“I think it’s only fair since I’ll be bothering all of you for the next two or so weeks, that you can ask me whatever you’d like as well.”

“That’s fair,” Dr. Strange concedes from his spot to your right.

“Very fair, I think,” Scott agrees, giving you a big comforting smile.

“Okay, well let’s start with where you were born.” A handful of waiters come in, setting bowls and plates onto the tabletop before disappearing.

“Family style,” Pepper clarifies before looking expectantly to you.

“I was born in California. But moved to Seattle when I was little, maybe about 3. Right before I started kindergarten we moved back to California. Been there ever since.”

“And your business?” Pepper asks, dishing some green beans onto her plate.

“It’s more Amelina’s than mine. We’re partners in the site, but I do the money part, well I prep it for the accountant - and most of the writing - and she does the schmoozing, bossing around, the sports articles and the keeping up of the site. So she’s doing the lion’s share.”

“I would think you break even,” Hope pipes up. “Well, what with you having to travel and compile the information and then write it out. Plus anything to do with money is usually more stressful. Do you both hire and fire?”

“Unfortunately, yes. We tried to hire a sports writer after we’d had the site for a year, but it didn’t work out...”

“Wait. Wait. Was it that guy that kept inserting himself into the story?” Sam laughs out, peeking around Bucky who is beside Steve. You bite back a groan.

“Yes.”

“Bucky, Rhodey - it’s that article I sent you saying that Babe Ruth was only half the baseball player he could have been and that the writer could’ve been the next Bambino.” Rhodey is at least trying not to laugh, but you can see Bucky’s shoulders shaking as you lean backward in your chair.

“That was a huge mistake. All of his work we reviewed before hiring was impeccable. I checked to make sure it wasn’t plagiarized and we called all of his references. Apparently, he’d had some experience in coding and websites, so after he handed in his first final draft, he went in an hour after Amelina posted it, and changed it. We got so many emails - we were getting all these calls... Brian up and disappeared after he did that. To this date, still haven’t had as much traffic on the site as that day.”

“Brian sounds like a douche,” Wanda mutters with a smile, taking a sip from her wine glass. You look down at your plate, finding it overflowing with more food than you’d put on there. You raise an eyebrow at Steve, who just shrugs and puts a forkful of potato salad in his mouth with a smile.

“Yeah. I blacklisted him.”

“Blacklisted how?” Clint manages around a mouthful of bread.

“Oh, um, well I emailed almost every single media outlet in California, Washington, Oregon, and Nevada. Then I asked them to forward it to their parent stations or owners. So basically, after a year of emailing people, most blogs, newspapers, tv stations, circulars, and YouTube hosts in California to Kentucky know not to deal with anyone going by his name. I helped a reporter from Pennsylvania with her story, and she began emailing people on the East Coast about it. All emails included his picture too, just in case he went by another name.”

“Effective. A bit ruthless.” Vision is seated between Wanda and Rhodey, nodding in approval.

“No! Not ruthless!” You defend, voice rising a little before the heat rises in your neck and cheeks. “Sorry. I just didn’t want anyone to get dinged as we did. We had to say a lot of apologies and lost a lot of work because of his pointless self-involved rant. And I mean, who goes after Babe Ruth?”

“Balls but no brains,” Scott adds, the two of you nodding. He points his fork at your plate. “Eat.”

“Can I ask a question?”

“That’s what you’re here for.” Tony chuckles out.

“What do you guys do in times like these? When there aren’t aliens or Loki or HYDRA? Like a big spa day for all of you guys? Karaoke?”

“To be honest,” Natasha begins. “There aren’t a lot of days like this when we are all free at the same time. But honestly, it’s more watching and waiting than action and aliens.”

“Kind of miss SHIELD to kind of take care of the day to day bad guy cartel and mafia stuff?” You manage around a mouthful of pasta. Sweet Jesus, it was decadent and cheesy.

“Sometimes I miss the help,” Clint admits.

“What Clint means is that he misses telling people what to do.” Sam teases, tossing a bread roll at him across the table, which Clint catches without even looking away from you.

“Hey! I didn’t tell people what to do. They just did it.”

“Did you buy a bar just to tear it down, Tony?” Tony smiles around a forkful of steak.

“Yes. Yes, I did. Ross just rubs me the wrong way.”

“To be fair, I think he rubs everyone the wrong way.”

“You’ve met him?” Steve sounds surprised, eyebrows raised in what you hope is astonishment.

“Unfortunately. I was in college and had to write a piece on something or someone whom you don’t agree with. Now I am all for soldiers but upper management sucks in the military, no offense Mr. Rhodes. But, everywhere, really... I just think the old guys in Congress and equally old guys in the upper ranks are calling the shots on things they shouldn’t be interfering in, as far as college me was concerned. Ross irritated me for the simple reason that he was the smartest person in the room and no matter what I said, what facts I had, what questions I asked, I would always be wrong. Never disliked being called ‘sweetheart’ so much in my life. Hard to have a conversation with the other side when they talk to you like that. Plus, I got a D on that paper, so he sucks in my book.”

“I told him to call me if he needed help. Then I left him on hold. In my own defense, I did warn him earlier I did like to watch the light blink.” Rhodey snorts into his glass at Tony’s admission.

“Like a tiny Christmas light of joy.” Steve comments, leaning back in his chair with a smile.

You shove a forkful of green beans into your mouth, giving a little sigh at how damn good it tasted before spearing a few more and eating those as Scott launches into the tale of him, Cassie, Luis and his ex-wife’s husband all hanging Christmas lights - only for the new husband to find he’d rewired and programmed them to blink in super slow motion with the fastest Christmas songs he could find and vice versa. And every 9 hours and 45 minutes, it played La Cucaracha, perfectly in time with the lights. There are a few chuckles around the table, but you’re laughing pretty damn hard.

“That’s brilliant actually! The deviousness lies in the amount of annoying that they could take. Having to time your exit must have been a bitch.”

“He and one of his buddies took it all down, bought new lights and hung those up. Cassie told me she missed hearing the Chipmunks, so I remotely programmed a timer so it would play the Christmas Don’t Be Late song right before her bedtime.”

“Cassie sounds like a wonderful girl. And very lucky to have you for her father.” Scott looks flustered but gives you the brightest smile before looking down at his empty plate.

“Th-thank you.”

“Of course. Do you guys do Netflix around here? Movie night?”

“Your mind is everywhere…” Hope says with a grin. “That’s good.”

“And to answer your question - yes. We have Netflix, Hulu, Amazon Prime…” Sam trails off as the waiters reappear, clearing the table only to return seconds later with plates of beautiful personal assorted desserts. If this was how they ate, you’d hate to see their exercise regime. Oh god, you hoped you weren’t expected to work out with them...

“I was just wondering how you all decide on a show. Do Steve and Bucky have lists? Like are you all working through AFI’s 100 Greatest Movies? I think I’ve only seen 20 of them. Do you all binge shows together?”

“Pep started a rotation. So if it’s your Sunday night and you’re in the compound or tower, then you pick the movie or show. If you aren’t here, it goes to the next person on the list.”

“Sometimes after a mission, it’s usually just decided to watch tv shows just cause we all sort of zone out,” Steve whispers after Tony’s answer, taking a big scoop of his parfait.

“We’ve never been invited,” Wong pipes up, frowning at Tony.

“Oh, I invited both you and Strange right after Pepper made the schedule. If Strange didn’t relay that…” Dr. Strange just rolls his eyes.

“I mentioned it.”

“You didn’t say it was a regular occurrence.” Wong huffs out before biting into a ladyfinger.

“Like an old married couple,” Clint chuckles out, his desserts all gone as he leans contentedly back in his chair. You give your head a small shake at their exchange before reaching to stop your recorder.

“Well, thank you so much for that delicious meal. And thank you for letting me record. I hope I get less awkward as this goes on.”

“This was awkward?” Wanda raises an eyebrow, making you fiddle with the recorder before tucking it into your pocket.

“Okay, well, um then it will get more awkward before it gets less awkward.” You all rise, pushing in your chairs before wandering out of the dining room and back towards the living areas.

“You’ll find out we’re all awkward. Well, except me.” You nod seriously at Tony’s words, managing to see Bucky roll his eyes at Tony’s words. Huh. Who knew… “Nightcap?”

“Oh, no. Thank you. I’m so full I don’t think I could even manage that.”

“Then we’ll say goodnight.” A chorus of goodnights echoes around the large living room.

“Goodnight everyone.”

You totter off to your room, cursing the fact that you’re so sleepy right now. After washing your face, brushing your teeth and changing into your pajamas, you shuffle down under the covers.

“Well, that wasn’t the most awkward or silent dinner I’ve ever been to…” You mutter before sleep drags you under.

::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx::

In the morning, you wake up earlier than you usually tend to, sitting on the floor in your pajamas in front of the rain-splattered window with your headphones on - going over the recordings, transcribing them and making notes in your dotted notebook, since it better served to add afterthoughts to. Not the nice orderly layout of your new notebook. And you’re so involved in listening and typing, snatching up the notebook beside you to jot down memos, that you don’t hear Steve and Tony calling your name and you sure as hell don’t hear them enter.

The scream accounts for that, Bucky and Sam barrelling through your door as you look up at Steve and Tony with wide eyes, shoving your headphones off.

“We’re sorry.” Tony barely restrains a chuckle. “I’m sorry. I had FRIDAY see if you were awake, then came to get you for breakfast, but,” He laughs now, the skin by his eyes crinkling. “You didn’t answer.”

“Maybe we should think about a different system!” You blurt as you stare up at the four men.

“Yes. Definitely,” Tony chuckles. “Next time I’ll have FRIDAY blink the lights to alert you.”

“Thank you!”

“Our pleasure.” Steve grins out, extending a hand.

“No, I’m fine here, thanks.” Steve shrugs, the smile not disappearing.

“Well, we’ll leave you to get dressed for breakfast. The shops are due to arrive after breakfast for you to pick some more clothes for your stay. Sam has also requested to be your first interview.” Sam winks at you from Cap’s left, sporting a wide smile as Bucky’s gaze goes from Sam to you.

“Thanks again.” You peer around Steve. “And thank you two for coming so quickly.”

“Anytime, Y/N.” Sam delivers smoothly, Bucky rolling his eyes before making a swift exit. The other three leave with smiles on their faces.

It takes you several minutes to realize you were in your pajamas; a worn and oversized ‘It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown’ shirt paired with sleep shorts that could barely be seen peeking under the hem of your shirt.

“Jeez…” You groan, rubbing a hand over your face before closing the laptop and tossing your notebooks on the bed.

Ten minutes later you have your teeth brushed and you’re dressed in adequate attire, shuffling nervously into the kitchen area on the other side of the bar in the living room. Clint and Bucky are cooking, Wanda weaving between the two expertly. You slip in the seat next to Hope, her hair in a ponytail and dressed in workout clothes.

“How long has everyone been up?” You whisper-ask, setting your recorder and notebook beside the empty plate that Natasha sets in front of you with a small smile. You return it as Hope cuts her pancake which is riddled with syrup, fruit and whipped cream.

“We all did a workout before breakfast,” She puts a big bite of sugar-laden pancake in her mouth, “Speeds up your metabolism.”

“Where’s Scott?”

“Here.” He mutters, slipping into the seat on the other side of Hope.

“Not a morning person?”

“I enjoy my sleep.”

“Thank god. Me too. Under normal circumstances.”

“Yes,” A new voice pipes up from the other side of the room, making you lean back to see who it is. “We heard about the intrusion this morning.”

“Holy - Princess Shuri!” After nearly tripping trying to slither out of your stool, you manage to get upright and extend a hand. “So lovely to meet you.”

“Thank you. It is lovely to meet you as well. I read your articles after Tony mentioned you were selected to do the interviews, and I must say that when you do scientific articles, there is a very nice flow and imagery that one does not usually get.”

“Thank you! I’m sure whoever I’ve interviewed in the science community doesn’t care for all the questions I have after the interview, so I’m glad that it reads well to a genius.”

“You will just make her head bigger, Miss Y/L/N.”

“King T’Challa, wonderful to meet you.” You breathe a deep breath of relief as he extends his hand, giving it a firm shake with a warm smile.

“Wonderful to meet you as well. Please sit, you must keep your strength up if you are to deal with all of us.” There is mischief in his eyes, the twinkle of a man temporarily unburdened.

“That bad?”

“Wait ‘til the Guardians are here!” A male voice pipes up, followed by a tossing sound and a huffed “Sorry!”

“Peter Parker, ma’am.” Your eyebrows shoot up as you automatically stick out your hand.

“Spider-Man,” Tony supplies as he walks by with a bowl of oatmeal. Honestly, your only thought is that he’s a baby and should be protected at all cost.

“Yeah, I think I saw a post on Instagram about someone in New York making Spider-Man ice creams...So you’re the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man?” Peter blushes, withdrawing his hand and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Don’t worry, kid. Pep had her sign contracts before she even came. She can’t reveal your identity.”

“Oh. Okay then.” His smile brightens at least a hundred watts. “Did you eat yet? Mr. Barnes makes the best pancakes!”

“Does he now?” Bucky’s back is to you, so you can’t see his expression, but there are already two hot pancakes setting on your plate next to several pieces of bacon. “I’m going to gain so much weight while I’m here…” You sigh, actually not the least bit bothered by it once you bite into the pancake, it’s buttery soft fluff filling your mouth, the second bite revealing a tiny melted chocolate chip to add to the deliciousness. Flipping open your notebook, you scribble down a note: Bucky Barnes = wonderful pancakes. Peter sees it and ducks his head as he takes his plate over to where Shuri is sitting, the two of them bent over a tablet when you glance over your shoulder.

Everything is terribly domestic. Normal.

And you want them to enjoy it. Cause honestly, after all that’s happened, they truly deserve a little peace and camaraderie.

::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx::

”Okay, so is this alright?” You ask, settling a little more into the plush blood-red chair in Sam’s bedroom, his desk to your right littered with your notebook, your phone, the recorder, and several pens.

“Great. I’m good to go.” You pick up the recorder, clicking it on with a nervous smile directed at Sam before you began.

“Interview One: Sam Wilson, known as Falcon. Okay, Sam, please tell me a little about yourself?”

“What would you like to know?”

“Let’s just start with the basics - like speed dating.”

“I’ve never been speed dating.”

“Well, aren’t we the lucky one?”

“Wait - you’ve been speed dating?”

“Unfortunately. It was for an article but nothing really was romantic or fun about asking the same questions of men who aren’t looking you in the eye.”

“Don’t gotta worry about that here. Our mamas all raised us right.”

“Noted. Alright, so I’ll ask the nice fluffy questions first.”

“Working our way up to the heavy hitter ones.”

“Exactly. What’s your favorite thing to do in New York, besides save it? What was your childhood dream job? Favorite Disney movie? How do you like your coffee?”

“Eat. Man, I love food. They have a little gumbo place in Harlem,” He kisses the tips of his fingers. “Best Southern food up here. As for my childhood dream job - man, I love birds. I wanted to train raptors, rehabilitate them...or I wanted to be a chef ‘cause I enjoy food. All kinds. Man, I haven’t seen a Disney movie in ye -- well, that’s not true because Spider-Nerd made us watch Toy Story 4 the other day...but probably a tie between Fantasia and The Rescuers. And coffee? That I take black with room so I can add cream and three sugars.”

“Good memory skills. Want more difficult ones now?”

“Oh yeah, I’m ready,” He rubs his hands together with a smile spreading quickly across his face.

“If Stark does a superhero calendar, which month do you want and what are you wearing for it?” His laughter is loud and boisterous, his hands braced on his knees before looking at you.

“Whew - went right for it, didn’t you? Are you asking everyone this question? Can I be there when you ask Cap and Bucky? I bet you twenty bucks that Tony says he’s thought of it before and he wants December cause of the gift he is.” You lean over and make a note of it in your notebook.

“I’ll take that bet. I counter with he doesn’t want to do one but he’d like to be July.” He extends his hand and you shake it firmly, mustering up a serious expression as you did so before settling in to wait for his answer.

“Man, okay. Uh, I think I’d like to be August. Not as hot but not cold either, with those pre-fall feelings. And I’m getting the tightest red shirt I own, along with my favorite pair of jeans. But I could be persuaded to dress sexier - nice fitted suit and tie.”

“Why’d you join the Air Force?”

“I just wanted to help people. And I wanted to see the world. My mom was okay with it since she figured the Air Force weren’t the first to deploy and that I’d be mostly out of harm’s way. But I enjoyed the regimen, the camaraderie I had with the other guys. But when my wingman, my partner Riley, died -- you, you know I just didn’t want to be apart of that anymore after that. I decided I’d get more out of life if I helped other soldiers deal with their problems.” He pauses, searching your face for something before continuing. “I met Steve one day when we were both out running. I knew who he was, but I also knew he was just like any other soldier who had come home and was looking to adjust - looking to find his place.”

“So you did what came naturally - you offered a sympathetic ear and some words for him to think on.”

“Yep. And, honestly, I enjoyed getting to know Steve Rogers. I think we have a lot in common, just morals and being a good soldier, but it’s more important to be a better man than all of that.”

“You really admire him.”

“Of course I do. He’s my best friend. I wouldn’t trade what I had to go through - what we all had to go through - to have it done any other way. I mean, it was brutal in some places, but I’d do it all again -- I sure as hell don’t want to, but I would.”

“May I ask why you chose to follow Steve instead of, say, Col. Rhodes? Both military, both having friends who sort of go rogue, both just wanting to do the right thing…”

“Rhodey and I are good friends, don’t get me wrong. But he had a lot on his plate: The military. Ross. Tony. Still dealing with the fallout of SHIELD in the upper ranks. I would follow Rhodey for a lot of things, but I won’t fight against any of the other Avengers again unless they’re mind-controlled or some shit.”

“Peanut butter and jelly or ham and cheese?” You ask softly, giving him a kind smile.

“Peanut butter and jelly.” He says with his own soft smile.

“Can I pet Redwing?” He perks up at that question.

“Yeah, come on, I’ll show him to you.”

“Maybe the suit too?” You tease, gathering up your notebook and phone, shoving the latter into your pocket before the extra pens you’d brought got shoved right along in there. You carefully pick up the recorder, holding it aloft as Sam holds open his bedroom door.

Once you’ve petted Redwing, letting Sam fly it around you. Luckily you were smart enough to stop at your room first for your camera, most of the time focusing on the light in Sam’s eyes as he looks at his little buddy before Steve and Clint come into the hanger, Clint playfully throwing a few rocks as Redwing dodges them, the three of them joking as they stand in a semi-circle and watch. All the while you watch them through the lens, happily snapping pictures before you notice Bucky leaning against the hangar door a handful of feet away. He looks like he’s a model, a small smile on his face that’s half turned away from you with one hand - his metal hand - tucked into the pocket of his black, worn-looking jacket. You snap a few pictures before he turns his head towards you, the smile disappearing. You snap a picture anyway before lowering the lens and smiling as warmly at him as you can. He gives a little nod before pushing off the door and disappearing around the corner.

Clint drags you to the archery range after that, carefully digging through his arrows as he answers question after question.

“Okay, Clint, last one: If Stark does a superhero calendar, which month do you want and what are you wearing for it?” Clint snickers, his shoulders gently moving.

“Really? Well, alright then. I think I’d like to be January. And I think I want to be dressed in a velvet eggplant jacket with a black shirt and some black underwear.” You nearly snort when he wiggles his eyebrows and gives you a lazy smile, twirling an arrow.

“Boxers? Briefs? Thong?”

“I think some nice fitting briefs. Don’t want to make too many people jealous if I bust out my thong…”

“I certainly learned a whole lot about you, so thank you for that, Clint.”

“Anytime, sweet cheeks. Anytime.” He leads you back to the living room for your last interview of the morning before you all break for lunch. “Wanda! I got your girl here!” Wanda is standing by the hallway, a cup in each hand with a smile gracing her too-pretty face. She gestures with her head, her red hair swinging slightly. Clint doesn’t let you go initially, pushing his cheek closer to you.

“Alright, alright, Mr. Sweet cheeks.” You concede, kissing his cheek before watching him saunter past the others, tossing himself down onto the couch beside Scott with a chuckle.

“Good luck!” Sam hollers, making Wanda glare at him for a second before you follow her down the hall.

::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx::

Wanda is teaching you a few words in Romanian when you emerge from her room for lunch.

Lunch is already laid out as you repeat “Nu, mulţumesc” until she nods.

“And that means?”

“No, Thank you.” You answer obediently.

“Now, combine everything.”

“Ce fasi! Mici sărutări pentru tine în această după-amiază. Nu, mulțumesc. Aș prefera să fac un tort.” [Little kisses to you all this afternoon. No, thank you. I'd rather have a cake.]

Bucky and Natasha shake their heads with a smile.

“And that means?”

“What are you doing? Little kisses to you all this afternoon. No, thank you. I’d rather have a cake.” Wanda chuckles out, giving your arm a loving pat.

“It was something my mother always said to my father. He said little kisses to us all and she said she would rather have cake. Y/N said it beautifully. Very naturally.”

“I am a wonderful parrot.” You smile out before Tony pokes his head in and whistles.

“Lunch!”

::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx::

Bruce’s interview after lunch is filled with long pauses, his answers thought out and sometimes not what you expected. He takes you through his lab and then he suggests a short jaunt around the garden to finish the interview. When he excuses himself, you stay in the French-style garden, snapping a few scenic pictures and unwinding a bit from the interviews of today.

With four down, you’re feeling pretty perky about the whole series, trying not to think about the 25 or 26 more interviews you needed to do. Wandering through, your fingertips brushing over the perfectly trimmed hedges before spotting a few wild sunflowers towards the path leading into the woods. Carefully kneeling you take a picture, frowning as it’s just not quite right. You settle on your belly, one foot rising into the air as you refocus the camera and nail the picture you wanted!

You don’t even realize that Bucky is taking your picture as you grin at your camera, entirely too pleased with your results before you regain your footing and trek back to the compound.

::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx::

You shoot for six interviews the next day, just trying to get them done before the Guardians, Thor and Captain Danvers arrive...Tony having casually mentioned recording a video group interview of sorts before you left. Which didn’t stress you out at all.

Not.

Hope’s interview was witty and broadening...how she described quantum physics (which just led to more questions) was outstanding.

Scott’s was quick-witted, dry and peppered with his pretty broad knowledge of electrical engineering, Captain America, and songs from the 80s. He was very open about his conviction and time in prison, his decision to be ankle monitored to be with his daughter, and how he feels all of this may affect her in the future. He’s an achingly good person and you add him to your “Protect At All Costs” mental list you’ve started.

Steve is stiff. He doesn’t see the humor in your calendar question (you have to show him the Australian firefighter one with the baby animals for reference) to which he begrudgingly requests the month of May and says a casual suit with flowers in lieu of a pocket square. You suggest him sitting slightly towards a camera, painting a field full of flowers...he seems to like the idea and it makes him relax a little - and you’ll have to thank Sam for that tidbit of information he’d given you. You ask Steve a lot about his life before Captain America, how he thinks it would have gone differently if Dr. Erskine had lived, and what he initially liked about the modern world. He tells you about art school and Bucky, getting beat up on a near regular basis in alleys all over Brooklyn, how he discovered Mr. Rogers’ TV show early one afternoon after moving into the compound.

Vision, on the other hand, doesn’t have a lot of life experience to draw upon but he’s a wealth of knowledge. He talks about JARVIS and ULTRON, the differences between the two of them and Tony, he talks about how DUM-E knows who he is and how loyal he is to Tony. He then shows you who DUM-E is, the bot jerkily “shaking” your hand as you marvel over how not just Tony has evolved but his creations as well. Do you coo how smart and handy the robot it? Of course. But it’s worth it to see the robot nodding as you talk about how smart his dad is. DUM-E then gives you a tiny circuit board before you leave, Vision remarking that he likes you very much to have done so. You scribble down a note to ask Tony if that’s okay that you have that.

Peter is your last interview before dinner, and holy cow, everyone in the compound is a fucking genius. Peter tells you about his web fluid, the neighborhood where he’s grown up, and it’s clear how much he admires Tony from how reverently he speaks. Their relationship, you notice, is a little more parent/child than a mentor/mentee relationship. It’s adorable with a tinge of awkward. Peter shows you pictures he’s taken swinging all over New York and you show him where he can get a Spider-Man ice cream. He asks you just as many questions as you do and you chuckle when he refers to nearly every movie before his date of birth as “a really old movie”. You show him a few Charlie Chaplin shorts to show him what exactly “really old” is. He, in turn, shows you Tik Tok videos that you both laugh over.

“Do you like serial killer stuff?” He asks as you both head to the dining room for dinner, tucking his phone back into his pocket, both sets of your sneakers squeaking ever so slightly on the expensive floors.

“I think most women do.”

“Why do you think that?” His little focused face is adorable, trying to link it up in his head.

“Women always think they can do things better. And they’re usually right, just to let you know.” He nods seriously. “We’re outraged by it but intrigued. Pretty sure women can get blood out of just about anything - I’ve gotten red nail polish out of khaki pants by sheer will alone. It’s different for everyone, I guess. But mostly I think it helps us to collectively learn how to plausibly commit the perfect murder while we drink wine from the couch and shove snacks in our faces. And possibly solve a crime in our heads.”

“Huh,” Peter’s brow is still furrowed but he’s nodding his understanding. Peter looks up to find Bucky studying you, and when you look at Peter, he’s just smiling. “Excuse me.” You nod, watching him high-five Shuri before you feel someone by your side. Dr. Strange gestures to your ever-moving seat, which tonight is between Okoye and Wanda.

“Thank you,” you murmur gratefully, not noticing the quick clench of Bucky’s hand as he moves around Strange to his own seat opposite Natasha.

::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx::

Rhodey steals you after dinner, Sam teasing him as they disappear to his office.

“Come on, man. Just talk to her.”

“Shut up, bird brain.”

“She’s pretty nice. I was concerned she was just gonna go after us, with the questioning, but she eased into it and just didn’t focus on the darker stuff. She seems to want to get to know us as people.”

“It’s weird, huh?” Clint comments as Hope nods.

“It’s nice to be treated like a person. Not someone who’s infallible or holier than thou…” T’Challa remarks from his spot in the plush crimson chair across from them.

“Very inclusive, as well,” Okoye adds as Shuri and Peter come skidding into the room, Peter holding a tablet.

“What are you two doing?” Steve asks as he arches one blonde eyebrow high at the two.

“Nothing,” Shuri says smoothly, Peter nodding a few times too many when Tony comes into the room.

“Why is there a herd of deer in my hanger?” Both teens shoot off towards the patio door, laughing the whole time. “I don’t know what they did, but Redwing is acting like a herding dog with them, so you might need to go check that out, Sam.”

“Damn kids, I swear...I’m gonna need to squash me a spider…” He mutters loudly, heading briskly for the hanger.

“So, you gonna talk to our little journalist?” Tony smirks down at Bucky, which makes him scowl at the billionaire.

“I’m supposed to do that tomorrow,” He grumbles, making Tony smirk harder.

“You know that’s not what I mean, Tin Man.” Bucky wisely says nothing as he tries to calm his ramping up heart rate. “Even the kids have noticed you looking.”

“He has some competition,” Vision adds, smiling at Wanda who tilts her head slightly but returns his smile. “DUM-E.” Tony snorts, shaking his head as he turns away to gather himself.

“The robot? So the two are evenly matched then.” Natasha chuckles out, taking a healthy sip of her gin and tonic as she meets Bucky’s eyes.

“Nat, that’s not fair. The robot shook her hand and gave her a circuit board. He’s leagues ahead of Buck.” Clint teases, taking Natasha’s drink and taking his own healthy sip before handing it back. Bucky looks at his best friend, who is trying desperately to stop his shoulders from shaking with his laughter.

“40’s you would be ashamed. A robot who can’t talk?”

“Bucky Barnes vs a Roomba!” Shuri comments from behind Tony before making a break for it down the hallway with Sam hot on her tail. T’Challa, Okoye, and Bucky all point Sam down the hallway where she disappeared to when he comes panting into the living room.

“Now me is more inclined to hit your once-asthmatic ass for being the little shit you are,” Bucky growls at Steve, getting up from the couch turning to head to his room, only to freeze when he sees you and Rhodey standing by Peter in the door frame to the patio.

“Do you know there are deer in the hanger? And are you guys running a weird robot/human fight club?”

“Is that all you heard?” Tony asks, turning around and slinging his arm over the back of the couch with a smile flirting on his lips.

“We picked up the pace getting in here when we heard Shuri shout Bucky Barnes vs a Roomba. I mean, I’ve seen a raccoon with a machine gun, so that would have just been something else to add to the Weird Shit I’ve Seen list.” You press your lips together hard to keep from laughing at Rhodey’s nonchalant attitude and suddenly, Bucky isn’t as pissy as before. Well, he is - but at his friends - not at you.

Shit.

It’s been three days. Three fucking days and he’s smitten.

“Goodnight,” He says gruffly before retreating down the hall.

He’s nearly in his room, so he doesn’t hear you ask if you’ve done something wrong.

::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx::

Tagging: @jewelofwinter @sgtjbuccky @jaamesbbarnes @thewhiterabbit42 @nobodys-baby-now @unleashthemidnight @stay-frosty-royal-unicorn @chelsea072498 @clockworkmorningglory @sakurablossom4 @marichromatic @blondecoffeecake @ourloveisforthelovely @whinywingedwinchester @feelmyroarrrr

NOTE: Found the pic online and edited it, props to Google and all rights/privileges/ownership goes to who took the photo and to Marvel who made up all these characters. 

[PART 2]

[loveforpreserumsteve]

Not Without You (Canon Divergence Stucky Fix-It-Fic)

Eight:

So, there was a change of plans. At first, Steve was sure that the compound was the best place. Where they could call some of the others who were off-planet and come up with a plan. Only, when Scott started theorizing about a possible time machine did Steve understand where they really needed to go.

Even if Steve did feel bad about bothering him at home.

With a blue Iron Man helmet in one hand and Morgan in the other, Tony paused on his way to the cabin when he spotted the van. A curious look was on his face before Steve opened the door. Really, Tony should've realized who it was considering he parked next to Natasha's black Audi, and only a select few knew where thee Tony Stark and Pepper Potts settled down.

"Uncle Steve!" Morgan cheerfully greeted, wiggling out from Tony's grasp as she raced over to him.

"Hey, Bug," Steve smiled, effortlessly lifting the little girl into his arms. Hugging her close as he looked past her to her father and asked, "Nat update you?"

"Yeah," Tony confirmed, displeased as he crossed his arms and briefly glanced down at the ground. Returning his attention when he heard the Langs climbing out of the van, he admitted, "When she told me who you were with, I thought you'd finally lost it."

As Morgan pet Steve's scruffy beard, Steve took her hand in his and playfully blew a raspberry to her palm before he conceded, "I thought I lost it too. This is Scott and his daughter, Cassie."

Kindly, Tony grinned and waved for the trio to follow him up the porch steps, "C'mon. Maguna and I were just about to have some lunch." Teasingly, he looked back at his daughter and joked, "A handful of crickets on a bed of lettuce."

On Steve's hip, Morgan exaggerated a look of disgust by scrunching her tiny face, and giggled when Steve mimicked her as he affectionately touched his forehead to hers. All the while, Cassie mocked, "Rich people eat the weirdest things."

Glancing over at her, Steve grinned and winked. Having grown fond of the teen within the last two and a half days, Steve even decided to drape his arm around her shoulders. Giving her a familial squeeze before dropping his arm, he gave Morgan's cheek a kiss then set her down.

"Wasn't expecting you until later," Nat greeted Steve, arms crossed along her chest and her longer hair braided behind her.

"Mr. Leadfoot here sped the entire way," Cassie answered, almost bashfully as she stared at Natasha in awe. Of course, knowing Natasha, he knew that it wasn't uncommon for people to be stunned by meeting Black Widow in the flesh.

"Captain Noble? Breaking a law?" Tony feigned skeptically as he lingered by the door. Peeking inside, he asked, "Food? Something to drink?"

"Sure," Cassie easily agreed, taking a seat on the outdoor furniture.

"That's really nice," Scott smiled, joining his daughter.

"Would you like some help?" Steve asked, lingering by the door along with Tony.

Tony smirked, "You're the one who will need help if you don't come say hi to Pepper, first."

Steve nodded and followed the shorter man into the house. Nonchalantly, Pepper was sitting comfortably on the sofa, reading. Steve was always pleasantly surprised with how easy the Stark-Potts lives had gotten since stepping away from avenging. Of course, Steve imagined that if Bucky had survived, they would've also settled down in a cabin that Steve built.

"Here's our favorite lumberjack," Pepper greeted with a warm smile as she bookmarked the novel. Gazing up at a disheveled Steve, she commented, "Long time, no see."

Heat spread across the apples of his cheeks, and Steve scratched at the back of his neck as he apologized, "Sorry, Pep. You know I was on a… mission."

"No need to apologize, big guy," Tony surprisingly assured, patting Steve's broad shoulder on his way to the kitchen. Pulling down some glasses and a tray, Tony informed, "Everyone deserves a year of self-discovery. Or five."

A smile tugged at his lips as he looked down at his boots. Although they all knew Steve wasn't searching for himself, Steve liked the sound of that better than what it really was. Especially with how pathetic the truth made him appear. Pity even colored Pepper's expression because she knew it too. Of course, she, herself, had been desperate like Steve once. Okay, more than once, Steve allowed. Tony, after all, did have a habit of narrowly escaping death.

When Steve heard the sound of a blender, he snapped his attention over to Tony. While it had taken a while for Steve to get used to the taste of some of the health shakes that Tony made the team, he'd be lying if he denied that he missed them. He had even bought a blender and tried to make them, but could never get the proportions right.

"Now, get over here and put those muscles to good use," Tony teased, as he poured the blended beverage into a pitcher. Placing it on the tray with the glasses and waiting for Steve to carry it back outside.

Following Tony, and smiling down at Morgan, Steve set the tray on the table. Casually noting how Scott was pacing and Cassie was sitting on the edge of her seat as though she was about to jump up at any minute to either stop her father, or join him. Glancing over at Nat, he could tell that she was figuring out what to do too.

Kneeling, Tony got to eye level with Morgan and suggested, "How 'bout you pick out some pretend clothes for later?"

"Okay!" Morgan quickly agreed, rushing inside of the house.

As he straightened out, Tony crossed his arms and gestured, "Alright, let's hear it."

Nodding to himself, Scott quickly went into relaying the Quantum Realm and how one has to be really, really, really small to get there. Having already heard it the night before, Steve didn't pay too much attention to Scott's explanation of how long it felt versus how long it actually was. Instead of getting his hopes up at the suggestion of time travel -- actual time travel! -- Steve chose to pour himself some of the healthy shake. Catching Cassie's eye, he poured her some too.

"Now, we know what it sounds like," Scott finished, eagerly studying Tony.

"Tony," Natasha started, "After everything you've seen, is anything really impossible?"

"You're telling me this doesn't sound crazy?" Tony questioned, quirking a brow at her.

A smirk played at her lips as she reminded, "I get e-mails from a raccoon, so nothing sounds crazy anymore."

Tony silently agreed with that, still not looking convinced. Especially as he argued, "Quantum fluctuation messes with the Planck Scale. Which then triggers the Deutsch Proposition. Can we agree on that?"

While Tony looked over them, he took their silence as confusion, and he wasn't really that far off.  Steve, for one, didn't know what they were talking about. So, Tony reiterated, "In Layman's terms, it means you're not coming home."

"I did," Scott protested.

"No," Tony corrected, "You accidentally survived. It's a billion to one cosmic fluke. And now you wanna pull off a… What do you call it?"

Holding her head held high, Cassie proudly answered, "A time heist."

"Yeah, a time heist," Tony confirmed, his tone softening with the teen. Steve looked down at his shake, not wanting to see the hurt and defeat on his teammate's face from the memory of the teens he lost.

Then, in a moment, Tony's stance and expression hardened. Always choosing aggression whenever hurt, and now was no different as he mocked, "Of course, why didn't we think of this before? Oh, because it's laughable? Because it's a pipedream?"

Cassie's jaw clenched, but she didn't sass. Instead, she kept her focus on her untouched drink and tried to reason, "There are stones in the past. We can go back and get them."

"We can snap our own fingers," Natasha added.

"Bring everyone back," Steve softly tacked on.

"Or," Tony dissented, "Screw it up worse than he already has, right?"

"I don't believe we would," Steve refrained from clenching his jaw. Desperately needing Tony to see the smallest of possibilities. It was the only thing keeping Steve holding on. If this didn't work, he didn't know what he'd do.

Sadly, Tony smiled at Steve as he admitted, "Gotta say, sometimes I miss that giddy optimism. However, high hopes won't help if there's no logical, tangible way for me to safely execute said time heist. I believe the most likely outcome would be our collective demise."

And just like that, Steve could feel the last bits of his heart shatter. Although Steve and Tony didn't always see eye-to-eye, Steve still cared for Tony. Hell, in a different life, he would've been Uncle Steve to him too. Always trying to care for Tony in Howard's memory. But if Tony didn't even think there was a chance…

Lost in his own thoughts, Steve tuned out their bickering. Trying his hardest to not spiral down to that lonely, dark hole he had been in in the beginning. Finishing off his shake, he set the glass down before he could break it. Knowing that Pepper wouldn't be too happy with him if he did so.

Holding onto the porch railing, he saw Morgan race out of the house and climb onto Tony. Gladly, Tony hefted the little girl onto his hip and turned for the house. Steve knew that this couldn't be it.

It just couldn't be.

A little -- okay, a lot -- desperate, Steve grabbed onto Tony's arm. Pleading, "Tony, I get it. And I'm happy for you, I really am. But this is a second chance."

Holding Morgan just a little closer, Tony declined, "I got my second chance right here, Cap. I can't roll the dice again." Then, a little softer, just for Steve, Tony added, "Really, Steve, I'm sorry."

Thickly swallowing, with tears building in his eyes, Steve nodded. Letting his hand drop, just like his heart as Tony walked inside of the cabin and Steve hurried back to the van. Leaning against the vehicle and burying his face in his hands as his breathing started turning to pants.

Cautiously, a hand touched his back and Nat's familiar voice attempted to comfort him, "He's scared."

"He's not wrong," Steve breathed out, peeking over at the petite woman.

Cassie crossed the drive and asked, "What are we gonna do?"

"We need him," Scott sighed defeatedly.

"What, are we gonna stop?" Cassie demanded, looking over the adults in front of her. Wondering if she finally saw the avengers for what they truly were. For what he was.

Natasha kept rubbing Steve's back, bringing him back down. Making it easier for Steve to remember who he's supposed to be. He's Captain America, god damn it! So, he rationalized, "We're gonna need a really big brain."

[the-gedonelune-times]

New Friendship

Rumours of werewolves invading the Academy have spread like wildfire, affecting Day and Night class students alike. Persephone takes it upon herself to investigate, where she meets the blue-haired prefect; Lizzy, where they team up to unravel the chaotic mystery plaguing the Academy.

@explosiveglitterqueen I’m love your OC and I hope I did her justice UmU

“Ah, I absolutely love coming here. The marmalade sandwiches are superb!”

“Bandit, I’m honestly getting concerned with the number of marmalade sandwiches you’ve been consuming.”

“Oh come now, you’re over-exaggerating don’t you think?”

“The amount of sandwich bags with traces of marmalade on them, beg to differ. You’re addicted.”

“Well, it’s not my fault that I like a taste of the finer things in life.”

With a roll of her eyes, Persephone took a bite of her blueberry muffin while she opened up her notebook/daily planner combo, while her familiar, sneakily rasped his claws against the counter, ordering another sandwich.

“Seriously?”

“I can’t help it! Besides, we’re up rather early don’t you think? Sugar will keep me awake.”

“All that sugar is going to send you into a sugar coma, now stop.”

“Fine, fine. This will be the last one.”

“Thank you.”

“Mm…” 

The raccoon-like familiar took a bite into the sandwich and after dabbing around his mouth with a napkin, he looked over at Persephone who had her nose buried deep into her planner. Furiously writing.

“Mind telling me what you’re writing?”

“Hm? Oh. Just some notes.”

“Just notes? You’re writing so fast you’d think you were working for the Gedonelune Times.”

Persephone chuckled. “As if. No, I’m writing down all the things I need to do today. Lucious ended up getting sick, so as Deputy Prefect it’s my job to take his place and teach his classes for the day. Along with taking care of the things he was tasked with.”

“Seems you’re going to be busy.”

“Correction, we’re going to be busy today.”

“We?”

“Yes, we. In return for buying you all those sandwiches, the least you can do is help me out.”

“Such a chore, ah such a bore! But I suppose it’s only fair. I suppose I’ll go and have the rest of this sandwich wrapped for later as my lunch. Oh speaking of which, I’ll need you to take care of it.”

“Huh? Why me?”

“Because that devious feline will steal my food!”

“Devious feline?”

“That blasted cat, Chocolate Cake is his name. He’s stolen my food before. Oh, such a delicious molten lava cake. I had yet to taste it’s divine flavor because that heathen stole it from me! I have never forgiven him since. He and I are sworn enemies!”

Persephone sighed. “You’re really going to make enemies with him, just because he stole sweets from you?”

“Yes, yes I am.”

“Come on, don’t be like that. We can literally go and get you another molten lava cake. But starting issues with the other familiars is something we need to avoid.”

“Since when have you been the one to give pep talks like this?”

“Because I’d like to avoid headaches, thank you very much.”

“Yes, yes, you can give headaches, but can’t take them.”

“Why you little-”

“Oh...man…”

Just as a heated argument between the two of them was breaking out, a new voice had entered the Night Cafe. Their clothes were disheveled and they were gasping for air as if they had just ran a marathon. They stumbled a little as they took a seat in the booth in the farthest corner, prompting concern from Persephone. Putting her planner away, she got up from her seat, waiting for Bandit to hop on her shoulder before walking over to the troubled-looking student.

“Cyrus?”

“H-Huh?! Oh...Persephone? What are you doing here?”

“The usual. What’s up with you, you look like you’ve been through hell and back.”

“It seems like it, huh? I guess the courtyard is...like a battlefield.”

“Like a battlefield? What do you mean?”

“I…” 

Cyrus paused, seemingly not wanting to describe whatever it was that caused him to be in the state he was currently in. Instead, he just slowly put his head down, telling Persephone to go check it themselves, before waving them off.

“Well, that wasn’t very helpful.” Bandit commented.

“Well, he at least gave us a little info. We know that whatever it is that went down, happened in the courtyard.”

“Yes and he called it a battlefield. I’m not sure I like where this is going. It sounds like a lot of work if you ask me.”

“True, but aren’t you curious?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Well, I am.”

“In other words, you’re just excited to see the chaos with your own two eyes.”

“Pretty much.”

“This right here is why you constantly get into trouble!”

Persephone smirked. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The pair had just started their journey to the courtyard when a figure came flying down in their direction. Clearly not paying attention, they ended up running right smack into Persephone, sending them both flying to the ground with a loud thud.

“Oh goodness, I-I’m so sorry! I just couldn’t bear to stay there any longer!”

“Huh? Millie?”

“P-Persephone?! Ah!” Without any hesitation, Millie through her arms around Persephone. “I’m so glad you’re safe!”

“Safe? What do you mean? What happened?”

“O-Oh, well, you see, I was offered some extra credit if I could attend some Day Class lectures and on my way back I heard a terrible noise! It was like a ravenous beast. It started snarling and howling, i-it sounded like a werewolf. S-so I ran and ran until I couldn’t, to be honest, I was even sure that I would even make it back down to the Night Class.”

“Oh dear…” Bandit mumbled.

“How bothersome.” Persephone sighed as she got up. Once she dusted herself off, she held a hand out to Millie, helping her to her own feet. “Millie, go ahead and head back to the dorms, we’ll take care of this.”

“Huh?! By yourselves? Persephone wait!” 

Her cries were nothing more than a whisper. Persephone had already taken off running, summoning her staff in the process, while Bandit held onto her shoulder for dear life. They had just turned one of the final corners and were about to head up to the ground above when a figure had stopped right in their path. 

“Persephone, slow down!” Bandit cried out.

“No, if they want to get in my way then they can get run down!”

“Why are you so reckless? Oh, dear!”

Bandit, unable to watch, used his tiny paws to shield his face from the impending disaster. He was relieved when Persephone had come to a stop, the tip of her staff pressed up against the chest of the Night Class student who held their hands up in surprise.

“What the hell Sephie?!” Viggo exclaimed while wearing an annoyed glare.

“I could say the same thing to you, Viggo. What the hell are you doing up this early?” Persophone asked while lowering her staff to her side.

“Hard to sleep with all the commotion.” Viggo sighed. “I’ve heard a few students already screaming about magical beasts attacking. What about you?”

“Same here. Cyrus and Millie were pretty shaken up by it all.”

“Tsk, so you’re going up to help those Day Classers?”

“As a deputy prefect, it’s my job to offer assistance. Besides, it’s affecting the Night Class too.”

“Never thought I’d see the day that you’d be taking your work seriously.”

“Unlike *some* people.” Persophone clicked her tongue before using her staff to jab Viggo in the shoulder playfully.

“This is nice and all but Persephone, shouldn’t we get going? After all this incident isn’t going to clear itself on its own anytime soon it seems.”

“Right. We better get going.”

“Wait, I’m coming with you. I want to check out this chaos for myself.” Viggo smirked. 

“I think not!”

“Bandit…”

“No, Persephone no. This is the same hooligan who fed me food with hot sauce so hot, it was called ‘The Devil’s Lament’. He reeks of trouble and furthermore-”

“Sure, you can come.”

“WHA? Did you not hear what I just mmph! Mmm...such a sweet and delicate taste.” 

Bandit, content with having a piece of marmalade sandwich shoved into his mouth, sank down lower onto Persephone’s shoulder.

“You’re forgiven, for now.” Bandit huffed as he licked his paws clean before hopping on top of Persephone’s head, curling into a small ball.

“Your familiar is strange…” Viggo whispered.

“Careful, he might hear you and then you’re in for it.”

Persephone smiled and led the way out into the courtyard; Viggo trailing behind by just a mere couple of feet. Their walk was in silence but the moment they had stepped foot outside, screams could be heard. With a nod, they both took off towards the source and what they saw was truly a chaotic sight. Right smack in the courtyard was a student who was trying to calm down the other students that were running away while screaming.

“I heard there are werewolves!”

“If we don’t run t-they’ll eat us too!”

“Why are classes not canceled?!”

“Everyone, please calm down There are no werewolves in the vicinity!”

Despite her best efforts, the blue-haired prefect just couldn’t seem to get her words across to the terrified students. 

“I swear, when I find the one who started this then so help me I’ll-”

“Excuse me?” 

“AH!” 

Startled from Persephone’s sudden voice, the girl reached into her pocket with lightning speed before throwing it fiercely at Persephone. Had it not been for her quick reflex, she would have been hit directly in the face. Instead, she dodged it by mere centimeters and watched with wide-eyes as the object hit Viggo right smack in the face with a pop. Immediately after, blue shiny glitter exploded out, covering his face and his clothes with it. Oh the sight brought Persephone to tears with laughter that she didn’t realize that there was another glitter bomb in the prefect’s hand.

“Who are you?” She asked while taking aim.

“Lizzy, don’t!” Viggo shouted out while rubbing at his face, trying to rid himself of the glittery substance. “This is a friend of mine. They’re from the Night Class.”

“That so?” Lizzy looked over at Persephone and then put her bomb back with a sigh before smiling. “Sorry about that! You kind of startled me back there.”

“My master is a reckless one, so allow me to be the one to apologize on her behalf.”

“Bandit…” Persephone lowered her voice and glared at her familiar who was now sitting upright on her head.

“Oh how cute!” Lizzy exclaimed while holding out her hand towards Bandit. “Who’s this cutie?”

“That’s Bandit, don’t be fooled by him, he can be a little shit.”

“Now, now! That’s not very nice.” Bandit exclaimed while walking along Lizzy’s arm to rest on her shoulder. “Perhaps you should learn some manners from this young lady. It might do you some good.” He huffed.

“Why you little…”

“Alright, alright, I hate to break up the fun fest but I want to know what’s happening.” Viggo spoke up.

“I’d like to know that as well. I’ve already talked to two Night Class students who seemed to be a little shaken up from the situation.” 

“Oh, right, you must be talking about this whole werewolf situation.” Lizzy sighed. “There’s no werewolves on the premises, just a wolf familiar who was provoked into becoming feral. His owner has managed to calm him down, but it seems that the rumor has spread like wildfire through the Academy.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me…”

“A familiar being provoked into becoming feral? Hah, how weak.” Bandit snickered.

“Pay no mind to him.” Persephone sighed. “Back to the issue, do you know who was the one who provoked the wolf?”

Lizzy shook her head. “Not a clue, I’ve been trying to ask the students but they just keep running away, claiming that they’ll get attacked if they don’t.”

“Well considering that this place is pretty much a doomsday magnet, I can see why. Even so, it’d be nice to get some answers.”

“Yeah, it’d be nice to find the person who made Seth angry.”

Persephone raised an eyebrow. “Seth?”

“How did you know it was Seth?” Lizzy asked.

“You said wolf familiar.”

“I did, but if I recall, you don’t hang around the Day Class, in fact, you sometimes claim that you’re allergic to them.” Lizzy pointed out.

“Viggo, what did you do?”

“Nothing-”

“Bullshit! What. Did. You. Do?”

“Okay, okay, fine. I confess it was me.” Viggo said cooly.

“What?” Lizzy suddenly reached and grabbed a glitter bomb. “So you’re the person who tied the meat to my boyfriend’s ankle?!”

Suddenly, Viggo’s eyes widened. “You’re dating Rex?”

“Don’t change the topic!”

“Wait, hang on a second.” Persephone ran a hand through her hair. “So basically, Viggo tied meat around your boyfriend’s ankle, provoking Seth into going feral. People heard the commotion and thought the ACademy was under attack so now a vast majority of the students are on edge?”

Persephone inhaled and then sighed while facepalming. 

“Hey, Lizzy, right? Mind handing me one of those bombs of yours?”

Lizzy smiled. “It’d be a pleasure.”

“Hey…” Viggo, now realizing the situation, began to slowly back away. “We can talk about this, right?”

“Oh sure, let’s talk about it right now!”

Lizzy shouted as she threw the bomb in her hand, hitting his face perfectly. Persephone followed suit and within seconds, the two of them were coating Viggo and the ground in nothing but glitter. Viggo’s screams were an indication that their attacks were effective and after a few more tosses the two of them looked at Viggo. He was sputtering out glitter as he tried to speak.

“Are you satisfied now?”

“I think I have a few more bombs in here…” Lizzy went to reach for more but Persephone stopped her.

“Don’t waste them on him. Save them for later, you’ll probably need them.” 

“Well if we’re done here, then I’m going to go take a shower.”

Viggo turned on his heel and began walking away, meanwhile, Persephone began to chuckle.

“He looks like a walking glowstick in the sunlight.”

“Pfft, he does!” Lizzy whipped out her phone and snapped a quick picture without Viggo noticing.

“Please send me a copy of that.” Persephone smiled.

“Sure thing.”

“Hey, it’s technically lunch for the Day Class right?”

“Yes, why?”

“Well, my breakfast was pretty much ruined because of this ordeal, so I was wondering if you’d like to come to the Night class and get something. I’ll pay. Besides, think of this as a gift for the start of a lively friendship.” Persephone held out her hand and Lizzy gave a firm shake.

“To a new friendship.” Lizzy smiled.

“Oh hey, what’s this?” 

Viggo’s voice rang out as he picked up a wrapped object. Persephone squinted, trying to get a better look at whatever it was that was in Viggo’s hand. With wide eyes, she suddenly started feeling around in her pocket before coming to the horrifying realization.

“Viggo, put that down!” 

Persephone screamed but it was too late. A blur zipped past Lizzy and Persephone and headed straight for Viggo, landing a kick to his face. Bandit, who had been at Persephone’s side had gone feral and was now attacking Viggo for the marmalade sandwich that Persephone had saved. 

“Let’s get out of here.” Persephone said while taking Lizzy’s hand, leading her away.

“Wait, is he going to be alright?”

“Yeah!...probably.”

Persephone laughed and the two of them ran towards the Night Class cafe. It was truly the start of a brand new and chaotic friendship.