#and to give us all an opportunity to self-insert into the story for hugs and kisses with camilla coronabeth kiriona and pyrrha

[worm-on-the-moss]

Missing them! Very much!

[binniesthighs]

dear anon, sweet anon, thank you so much for requesting this <3 i didn’t know that i needed it in my life and now...here it is;) IT WAS SO FUN hehe

melt in your mouth | reader x jisung

Pairing: self insert, gender neutral reader x han jisung 

Genre: that good good smut 

Summary: After hearing a rather interesting story about a certain brand of chocolate aphrodisiacs, your curiosity gets the best of you and your friend’s roommate, Jisung.....a spin off of bites like bittersweet

Word count: 3.7k 

*photocreds to OP!

{see below for tags, nsfw and warnings!} 

Tags: aphrodisiac au, somewhat friends to lovers, hints of mutual pining, bestfriend!seungmin, seungmin’sroommate!jisung, hardswitch!jisung, hardswitch!reader, explicit language, mentions of food/eating, hand stuff (r &m), degredation, petnames, dirty talk, unprotected sex (stay safe cuties), creampie, voyeurism, and we love a plot twist ;)  

~💋~

two flavors seemed excessive. one flavor seemed like just enough. you didn’t want to break the bank or anything on something that was likely crappy quality or potentially psychedelic; even worse, it could be both. 

“and you want to try these with me why?” seungmin pushed his wire-framed glasses up his nose bridge and scrunched it up. he inspected the paper wrapper with a skeptical glare. the design itself was anything but trustworthy: in swirly cursive pink font, the name Cherri Amore and under it, a absurdly large lipstick mark with the outline of a couple doing what must have been fucking “spread eagle.” 

seungmin muttered, leaning over the counter of the dingy kitchen he shared with his roommates, “proven aphrodiasiac and libido booster...? y/n, sorry, i just--i’m fucking lost here--” 

“--ever heard of trying something for the hell of it seung??” you snatched the bar from his hand. “the review that i read online said that it made them crazy fucking horny, so much so that they fucked their best friend of something like five years or something like that. isn’t that insane?!” 

your best friend’s eyes blew out with his mouth aghast, “what the hell?? shit--of course you’d find something insane on the internet like this and drag me into it...”  

in your incredulous laugher, you threw your neck back so hard it hurt a little. “loosen up! it’s probably a scam or something. plus...if it does work on us...don’t act like i haven’t caught you in the act before...” 

seungmin, ever the angel, flushed a shade of fuchsia you thought inhumanly possible for someone to attempt. “that-that wasn’t--that wasn’t what you thought it was!!!” he cast away the chocolate bar as if it were his dick on the very night that you had walked in on something that was supposedly not what it looked like. 

“relax!” you punched your embarrassed friend on the arm which he dramatically rubbed into. “it’s not a sin to jerk off or anything. hell, i do it....obviously.” 

seungmin chuckled out unsteadily, “well, um, what if it does work then, what do we do?” 

you snickered, “ha! hell if i know. cross that bridge when we get there?” 

“so what you’re saying is...this could either be a massive waste of our time, or, both of us get so stupidly turned on that we decide to have sex....with eachother?” 

“that’s the gist i’m getting.” you took to the corner of the shiny pink paper wrapping at the corner. “but...who said that we had to fuck or anything...?” 

from fuchsia to nearly scarlet, seungmin averted his eyes at the speed of light. 

“seung!!! do you have something to tell me?!” your teasing grin spread wide and you lifted your hand to give your adorable friend a clap on the back. 

“i’m just repeating what you said!!” 

you broke the bar open, cracking off the first square on the counter with a solid snap. with a smirk, you offered it to your friend. he reached out, only to nearly jump out of his skin when the old-timey ringtone from his phone erupted in the hollow kitchen. 

“shit.” he murmured under his breath, pulling it out and immediately pressing the call button upon seeing the caller. “h-hello? yeah? wait, wait...slow down...the cultures did what?! and you have to start over?? shit--” 

before you could have anything to do with it, your friend was already throwing on his sneakers and sky blue raincoat. “sorry, y/n but i have to go. that was my co-worker, they said that something went bad with the incubator, and all of the cultures are ruined, and there’s the stupid lab meeting in the morning--” 

“i’m gonna pretend that i understood everything you said.” you hung at the doorway to the kitchen, observing him trip over pairs of shoes and other random-ass college-aged boy items. “you only get a pass because i have a feeling that the coworker we’re talking about here is the cute one.” 

your friend rolled his eyes, mouthing a reluctant, “yes.” 

“fine then. we can try the chocolates another time.” 

“fine--sure--” seungmin grabbed for the handle, “sorry. again.” 

~💋~

you felt like the chocolate bar was taunting you, just sitting there opened with two squares all ready for the eating. oddly, you really couldn’t figure out exactly why you had wanted to try them in the first place. for a second, the guilt and loneliness started to seep through and it felt sticky, pathetic, and stung like thorns right into your breaths. 

“fuck it.” you whispered under your breath, swiping them all up and walking over to the trash can. 

“whatcha got there?” a voice entered the room attached to one of seungmin’s roommates, jisung. 

the two of you had met many times in passing, and you had shared enough small talk to consider him somewhat of an acquaintance. from what you had gathered about the boy, he spent much too much time in his room working on his animations and was the dictionary definition of one of those cocky-assholes you had a soft spot for. 

“jisung--hey. it’s...it’s nothing. something stupid that i blew my money on.” 

“let me see.” he crossed the room, looking wired and overtired as usual. 

from staring at his screen for so long his eyes bagged with dark circles, but somehow it made him look mischievous, or something like that. his muscle tank had been cut low to reveal his sides and ribs which flared when he grabbed for the bar of chocolate. 

“huh.” he scoffed, “i’ve seen like, infomercials for these things. you were going to try it?” 

“yeah...i-i mean--no...i was.” 

“what’s stopping you? not curious anymore?” 

“window of opportunity passed.” 

“i don’t think so.” he grinned, matter of a fact. “i like chocolate.” 

you couldn’t quite believe what was being said to you at first. jisung, the boy that you barely knew, was standing there with his goofy heart-shaped smile and all, holding libido boosters and asking you to take them with him. 

“you do know what those are, right? what they could do?” 

immediately, he popped one in his mouth, nearly like it was a challenge. “empahsis on the “could.”” 

he held them closer to you, prompting you to take the remaining square which was flecked with little red hard-candy looking bits. 

“fine then. you’re right. what they could do.” you downed the candy, crunching it and finding that the quality was certainly not a guarantee. the thing itself tasted halfway between a tootsie roll and cold medicine. “fuck.” 

jisung laughed, throwing the rest of the bar away.

“what did you that for?” 

“i’m guessing whether they work or not, you might not need them anymore.” 

your friend’s roommate slicked his hair back, and ruffled it over his dark eyes. his face was slightly puffed with exhaustion, but it didn’t make him any less handsome. 

“so we wait now?” you asked, glancing at the clock. 

“wanna order some food or something?” he smacked his lips, “i need a fucking chaser after that.” 

~💋~

you didn’t know what time it was; late, probably. after a couple hours of realizing that nothing was really going to happen to you or your friend’s roommate, you had decided to stop expecting it. although, you had kind of hoped...

the sofa that the boys shared was just about as comfortable as you had remembered it. it was large enough to hold you and seungmin’s two roommates on better days, but, once again, random-ass college-boy stuff cluttered at least half of it. it was one of those “dumpster finds” and kind of smelled like a grandma’s house, but honestly, that was what made it so comfortable. 

the tv carried on, playing some kind of animated movie that jisung had chosen claiming that the director was some kind of “god of animation and storytelling.” you liked the colors, but soon you felt yourself being lulled and drowsy: your head felt heavy simply resting on your shoulders. 

your eyelids fogged, and the sounds from the tv set started to fade into inexistence. beside you, jisung had crossed his arms, but the lack of space had pressed both of your thighs together, and the warmth from his leg started to wash over your drowsy state. your head bobbed, swayed...then fell, directly onto his shoulder. had you been more lucid, you would have cared more. 

“oh--” he jumped slightly, and shifted awkwardly. 

the room darkened and soon all you could see was the thin line of light that your half-open eyes allowed. 

“this-this can’t be comfortable for you.” jisung hushed and clicked the tv off. “hey, you should be heading to bed anyway, it’s late.” 

“are you kicking me out, jisung?” you babbled, not really aware of your own words. 

your friend’s roommate chuckled, straightening his posture to support you. “i’m not gonna make you walk back to your place at this time of night.” 

“it’s only a couple of blocks--” 

“--you’ve slept over here before, haven’t you?” 

you stretched out your arms with a little squeak.

“yeah. on the couch.” 

“you...can’t do that. you’d have to sleep in a fucking corkscrew if you did that.” 

“yeah, i know.” you giggled, now finding yourself in a kind of stupor that made you wonder if the chocolates really were doing their job. “i’ll just take seung’s bed then--” 

“--he’s! not back...yet.” jisung hugged his arms to himself. “i dunno, shouldn’t he have his bed when he comes back?” he cleared his throat, composing himself. “of course, there’s space in my bed if you’d like.” 

“me? sleep with you?” 

“yes, with me.” just as he had before, that little challenging edge coated his tone, “only if you’re comfortable i mean. i guess that i’m forgetting that the most that the two of us have shared yet is some wack-ass chocolate so, i shouldn’t be making any assumptions.” 

“no, no!” you pounced off from the couch, reaching high to the ceiling to stretch out your sore back next. and, perhaps to let your shirt tuck up just a little bit as you did so. “i don’t have a problem with it.” 

jisung nodded, grinning in the half-lit room, cleaning away to-go boxes. you had noticed before, but the way that his triceps tensed when he moved around was really just a little too distracting. 

“you can head on in, but--be quieter about it. jeongin is sleeping in here.” 

you clicked off a sleepy salute, following the hall down exactly where you had known his room to be, but you had never entered it before. it didn’t surprise you, but it was just as messy as the rest of the place was, and you had to tip-toe around god-knows what to find your way.

after tripping on something soft and sort of damp, (which you prayed was a shower-towel) you made your way to jisung and his face illuminated by the blue-glow of his phone screen where he had immediately jumped in bed after navigating through the room much more skillfully than you had.  

“you have an issue if i sleep in my underwear?” you asked, realizing. 

jisung paused, wide eyed, but quickly fell back into his casual and cocky smirk. “i mean, that’s basically what i’m doing so...”  

“scooch over. i hope you’re not a blanket hogger or anything.” 

the bed was already pleasantly warm from jisung having occupied it. it would have felt amazing if you had been as tired as you had been moments ago, but now your entire body felt horribly wide-awake. 

“--and if you start to snore, i’m leaving you for the couch, got it?” 

jisung let out an airy laugh, shifting and creaking the bed a bit under him, “i don’t snore...for your information.” 

with the blankets pulled up to your nose, you turned to lay on your back, eyes finally adjusting to the darkness of the room. above you, the faint green glow of glow-in-the-dark stars sprinkled across the ceiling, making up constellations: from what you could make out, the big dipper was above jisung’s bed, and the little one was above jeongin’s, who peacefully slept with tiny breaths. 

jisung rolled to the side, accidently brushing his bare leg against yours. 

“night, y/n. sorry the chocolates didn’t work out. would’ve been kind of hilarious if they did.” 

“psh.” you rolled over too, closing your eyes, “you saying you would’ve taken up the opportunity to get in my pants?” 

“guess we’ll never know.” he sighed. 

~💋~

birds chirped, signaling the coming sunrise what was nearly breaking upon the horizon, and filled with deep blue sky with a type of orange-glow. the room was dim and stuffy, and noticeably much hotter than you remembered it being before. over the course of the night, you had tangled your legs with the sheets, finding them trapping you between them, and you shuffled to escape them and feel the air hit your skin. they shifted, letting you feeling the sticky mess between your legs. 

“what the--” the aching and heated desire made itself painfully obvious, soaking directly through your underwear, making a wet mess of them where you throbbed with an utterly unexplainable arousal that reverberated in your core. 

the friction from your legs only heightened the sensation, and you found yourself unwillingly rutting down into the mattress just to feel an ounce of relief. 

fuck, the chocolates, you recalled. while you had expected to feel something from them, this was twenty times more intense than anything you could have planned for. 

you were like an animal in heat, vulnerable, weak, dazed. your body set ablaze, and it only made sense to strip of any and all clothing that held you back. in your own desperation, you had completely forgotten about the man resting next to you. 

“y/n? what's--what are you doing?” jisung groggily croaked in a tone several octaves lower than you were accustomed to. your brain could only calculate it is as downright, unbelievably sexy. 

“jisung, i’m fucking burning up, an-and, i think i’m finally feeling something....are you?” 

he hadn’t noticed it at first until he did, but from where he could see where the blanket dipped all the way down to your waist, you were completely bare. with fluttering eyes, he gulped down dry. you noticed the way that he took you all in, looking at every inch of you. you reveled in how he greedily and shamelessly didn’t stop. 

under the covers, his own legs twisted. 

“me too.” he answered gravely, speaking with a low whisper.  

carefully, his tentative touch advanced under the covers, slowly reaching to your bare hip, where he settled a testing caress, squeezing harder, then cascaded down the small of your back to make you shiver. your own hand did the same, instead finding his leg and creeping your hand up and under his shirt. little space existed between the two of you, and only the panting of your heavy inhales and exhales could be heard. 

your eyes glued to his, beautifully brown and dilating, trembling a little while holding yours. from his light touches, it took every bit of your will to control yourself from launching over him. jisung’s hand fell lower, and toyed with the elastic band of your underwear which had started to feel painfully confining. each of your own fingers traveled up his torso, brushing over his chest which made his whole body shake. 

“sh-shit, i’m so fucking--” jisung started, dropping off his words to let out a wavering sigh. you didn’t need to guess any further. 

jisung slid two fingers under your elastic band, and it became too much to handle. 

“please, touch me jisung.” you whined out pitifully, clawing directly into the soft muscles of his back. 

you were shocked how quickly he had given into you, immediately crashing his lips against yours first, then using both arms to pull you into his chest so close it stole all of your breath away. you kissed him back roughly, ravenous to feel the sensation of his mouth against your own. he growled out a small groan directly into your lips, sloppily working every single corner and edge of your mouth with a devilish smile curling his own. 

lower, both of your hips met flush, grinding and twisting to create the kind of pressure that the both of you craved. limbs twisted, sweating and heated skin mingled, and you could feel every bit of his hardened cock right against your own arousal and how his shaft throbbed helplessly. 

“you taste so good.” he murmured between haphazard kisses, letting his low tone vibrate against you. 

“take these off.” you ordered, tugging at his boxers, nearly taking them off yourself. 

“take yours off.” he echoed, and you did. 

curious hands plunged deeper, delighting fingers in the slick of the other’s cum. 

“fuck.” jisung dragged the explicative over your lip where he lapped lazily into you. “don’t stop.” 

you gave him a moment’s pause, stopping to wet your palm with saliva, then met it with his cock. you worked his length with the sharp and twisting turn of your wrist, causing him to whimper out shamelessly. 

“shhh.” you hissed, pulling his lip with our teeth, “don’t want to wake up your roommate do we?” 

he nodded, biting each and every tantalizing little sound into his lip instead. your own breaths grew shallow feeling the pressure from his hand between your legs and how he had grabbed into your thigh to swing it over his hip for better access. 

“wouldn’t you like me to fuck you out, baby? fuck you like the good little cock whore that you are for me? i’ve seen the way that you look...you’ve wanted this...haven’t you?” jisung’s words were slick and luxurious despite their bite.  

to suppress the begging moan in your throat, you cupped your hand over your mouth, and pressed hard into it. 

the blanket tented from your pulling at his cock and how you rubbed over his slit: it was an ethereal sight even in the blurriness of the room. 

slowly, you leaned over to his ear, waist rocking back and forth over the sensation of his hand rubbing into you relentlessly. “don’t lie baby, you want my ass bouncing on your cock...don’t you?” 

in one movement, he swept his full body weight over yours and harshly pulled your legs back to open your entrance just for him to tease with his tip. he guided himself in slowly and meticulously, bottoming out once you had sunk your fingers into his shoulders to manage some of the screams you would have let out otherwise. 

“fuck yes, baby.” jisung growled, finding an animalistic pace that burned your whole body with white flames of pleasure. 

you grew impatient wondering furiously what his cute little pouty cheeks would look like when you fucked him from above, riding his dick. you wouldn’t wait any further, taking your grasp on his shoulders to then flip him, settling your hips over his dick which you pounced on to the tune of one of his moans slipping past, loud and guttural. 

“shut. the fuck. up.” you scolded him, throwing your hand over his pretty mouth. he whimpered out once again, eyes rolling feeling the tip of his dick reach as deeply inside of you as you would let it.  “cum inside me sungie, i won’t stop until I have every last drop.” 

jisung nodded, chest flaring as his breaths quickened. 

“cum for me baby, and i’ll cum for you...got it?” your breathy whispers scratched your throat, but you needed him to hear. 

you held his eyes which glistened with two pretty little tears that fell  as he came hard, shaking with his whole body and letting each of his gleeful moans come spiraling into your hand. 

your own heat came surging, right at your core, growing....growing...

a lamplight flashed on. 

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? WHAT THE--WHAT THE--” 

jeongin threw his sheets over his eyes, while shuddering. “I WAS FUCKING SLEEPING!!” 

his shrill scream sent you jumping out of your lust, and you scrambled off jisung’s throbbing and pink cock, and forgetting the force of gravity, which sent his cum dripping out from inside of you. in your panic, you grabbed at anything to cover up your body and his, only to get so tangled that you lost your balance on the edge of the bed and.....

~💋~

THUMP 

your body hit the wooden floor of jisung and jeongin’s room, right on your butt where you knew that it would be hurting for weeks. 

as disoriented as you were, it took you a good few minutes to realize what had actually just happened. 

“y/n?” jisung called with his groggy half-awake, half-asleep tone. “did you just fall out of the bed?” 

on the opposite side of the room, you whipped your head over to see jeongin still peacefully sleeping with his back turned to jisung’s bed.

“fuck--um, yeah. i did. shit...” 

jisung chuckled in the dark room just barely peeking with the first bits of the sunrise in streaming into the room. 

“i don’t know how you did that considering i gave you plenty of space. get back up here.” 

still dazed and brain overheating, you could have sworn you felt the little aftershocks of the orgasm that felt so real still coursing through your body. 

you felt it too: the way that your underwear had slicked. some part of it all must’ve been real. 

“jisung--” you started, not even sure if you wanted to tell him in the first place. “are you certain that you didn’t feel anything?” 

jisung turned to face you and shook his head, “no, you?” 

you hesitated, holding his eyes to see that he must have been telling the truth. 

“i just...i just had this insane dream...” 

“dream? about what?” 

“it’s hard to explain...” you trailed. 

“you look kind of shaken up, are you sure that you’re okay?” jisung extended a careful hand, and smoothed down the side of your face in the way that had felt frighteningly real only seconds ago. his hand lingered, falling down your neck and giving you goosebumps. your eyes fell to his lips, and you wondered if they would taste like you had imagined them to be. 

you leaned in closer, closing the gap. 

“it went something like this.” 

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses! 

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @lunarskzzz  @yourdaddychan @bubblelixie @spnobsessedmemes @cherrychngkyn @iwanttobangchan @bowlofblueberries @lmhmins @eunaeiekim

[tpwkay]

Medicine (h.s.)

You’re finally given permission to cover the song you’ve wanted to perform for years and a special surprise during your performance sweeps you off of your feet.

Word count: 11.5k

Rating/warnings: NSFW - A lot of this is plot but there is smut as well. Contains explicit language and consensual sex acts between a man and woman. This is a story written in the 2nd person (“self insert"). This isn’t written to be exclusionary, it’s just my preferred style! Author’s note can be found at the end!

"Ladies and gentlemen, I cannot thank you enough for coming out tonight to listen to me and the band. We've got a couple more songs coming up for you but I just wanted to take a minute to tell y'all how much we appreciate you." You gesture to yourself and the band behind you as the lights on stage come up a bit. "We wouldn't be where we are without your support. From the bottom of our hearts, thank you!"

The crowd cheers and you can't help but experience an insurmountable feeling of joy. It never gets old. You'd been in the spotlight for a few years now, already at the end of touring your second album, though the size and scope of venues this time around was much, much larger. There was nothing that compared to being able to sing your own songs and have a crowd of thousands scream them right back at you.

Being an up-and-coming singer and songwriter in the genre of country music hadn't been easy. Girls your type had been a dime a dozen, hoards of Taylor Swift-wannabes covering "Teardrops on My Guitar" during open mic night. You held nothing against them; there was a path to success for everyone, but yours had been, well, different. 

It was a karaoke cover of Brooks & Dunn's "Boot Scootin' Boogie", a song that you'd been singing since you were a toddler, that had gotten you noticed by a recording artist one night while out with your girlfriends, which led you to where you stand now, performing in front of thousands. You were liked for the range of your voice, with it's easy easy transitions from the sounds of pop to country and rock, in addition to the way you performed, and your take-no-shit attitude towards the entirety of the industry. People liked that you were forward and left nothing on the table, though you had to admit that it was mostly an act, a means of coping with the pressure of working your way to the top.

///

"It's refreshing!" Jax, your manager, had shouted one day, arms flailing as you had argued that maybe your attitude was going to get you into trouble one of these days.

"Aren't you, as, you know, my manager, supposed to be the one keeps me in line?"

"You aren't out doing coke, killing anyone, public indecency and all that," he had shrugged. "Far as I'm concerned, you are in line. People talk about you because of your attitude. They like it! They like you. Why is that so hard for you to accept sometimes?"

"Maybe I just haven't been caught doing those things," you grinned, effectively dodging his question. Fame hadn't helped break down the walls that you'd long ago built around yourself. If anything, you had done some reinforcing, built a moat even, in an effort to ensure that you protected yourself from getting too close to anyone that would only end up using you in the end. You had seen the way people in life had been used, and what it ultimately led them to, and you had promised yourself long ago that even if it meant being known as the Boot Scootin' Bitch, you would protect yourself and your heart at all costs. 

"Your momma would tan your hide for much less than any of those, you know. Hell, you should be more afraid of her than you are of me or anyone else… 'cept maybe God."

///

You shake your head, working the memories free from your mind as you grab a bottle of water from the platform on which the drum set rests.

There's one more song of yours to sing before you performed a new cover, the one you had been looking forward to for months. Although you'd gotten permission to perform it not long into the start of your tour, the set list had been rehearsed already and every other detail ironed out around it. You'd convinced Jax and the crew to let you slot it into the last concert of the tour, Austin, Texas. These folks knew their music and for some reason, they liked you so you were thrilled to be able to share something new with the crowd that had welcomed you to their city with open arms. 

You grab your guitar off its stand and slide the strap over your shoulders, adjusting it as you step forwards to the mic stand. A shimmering blue shirt catches your eye in the crowd and you do a double take because surely it can't be Harry because he's—

And it's not him, of course, though the fashion of the gentleman in the pit area would surely catch his eye as well as it's right up his alley. It's not him - it can't be him - because you know exactly where he is right now and it's not in the pit of your Austin performance. 

A grin stretches over your face as you think of him. You strum the first chord of the first song you'd ever written about him, although there had been many more since. He probably knew this one was about him, having come just after your first meeting. 

/// 

A friend of yours was good friends with Kacey, who had been the guest artist that night. Her name had been added to the VIP list and in the summer of 2018, just as you were hitting your own stride in your career, you tagged along with her to Harry Styles' live tour performance in your hometown of Nashville. 

If you were being honest, prior to his concert, you hadn't heard much of his solo work, apart from the various huge hits like his Kiwi or Watermelon Sugar and a few other ballads. You liked his sound, seemingly influenced heavily by rock stars of days past, but you'd had other influences to worry about in your own side of the industry. 

Sure, he had country music connections through the likes of Kacey Musgraves and Cam, and legends like Stevie Nicks, but his pop and soft rock style was pretty far removed from most country playlists that you yourself had graced. Your genres just didn't cross paths and the two of you seemingly operated in different realms of the music industry, topping your own charts and breaking your own peer's records. 

Of course, you hadn't been completely oblivious to The Harry Styles. One Direction had been too big of a deal to ignore and you'd often found yourself bopping along to their old hits, singing along as they played amongst the other nostalgic pop hits to which you listened. 

The concert had been in June, a hot sunny day followed by a perfect breezy evening. Downtown Nashville was always busy, but that night the city seemed to buzz, bright with music and life. After meeting for drinks at Acme on the River, you allowed yourself to luxuriate in getting lost in the crowd that milled about on Broadway. It was a surprising thing to not be recognized in your hometown, but you weren't one to complain about it. It was one reason that you value your time in Nashville over other music-centric cities like Los Angeles - it seemed that people here respected the private lives of musicians. There was an odd fan here and there, but you'd lived a majority of your "famous" life in Nashville in relative peace. 

You were early to the venue, your friend having wanted to have a chance to see Kacey backstage. You were excited to finally meet the star - though you'd been around the block of fame a bit already, there would always be people that you never had an opportunity to meet in passing. You had been greeted at will call and had been led backstage.

The arena was alive with excitement. At that point, you yourself had never toured a venue that large, so the experience of being backstage and seeing the operations first hand were thrilling and a bit overwhelming. In her dressing room, Kacey pulled you straight into a hug, gushing about how excited she was to watch your career take off. She insisted on sharing her personal cell phone number with you, urging you to call her to get together on a collaboration. You were in shock leaving her room, blown away by her kindness and the way the music industry worked in the most bizarre of ways, when you turned a corner and ran smack into a tall, solid, smiling Harry Styles. His arms had come out quickly to steady you on your heels boots. 

"Fuck," you swore, shaking your head at your clumsiness. "I am so sorry. What a great way to introduce myself."

He laughed and the sound flowed through you, warm and sweet like a cup of tea with honey. "Y'alright?" His eyes looked you over, and you couldn't help but notice the way they lingered. 

Your cheeks blushed and a wave of embarrassment washed over you. "I'm the one that should be asking you that. I don't think your adoring fans would be very happy if I took you out with a textbook tackle right before you're due to go on stage." You took a moment to give him the same appreciative glance he had already given you, admiring the way his deep blue custom-beaded suit jacket fell open to reveal a black dress shirt, unbuttoned halfway down his chest. 

"Ah, 'm fine. Lil' thing like you couldn't do too much damage to me, even in those heels. Don't think they'd be very happy though," he said, nodding his head in acknowledgement of the already-rowdy crowd while offering his hand. "I'm Harry."

You laughed as you introduced yourself, shaking his hand. 

"I've heard that name before, but I'm sorry to say that I don't recognize you. You don't seem like one that's easy to forget."

"I sing, write music," you shrugged, not sure how to explain to a superstar that you were on the way up, yet still somewhere much farther down the fame totem pole than him. "Country, mostly. Not sure if that's on your radar."

"The new stuff's not, but I may have to change that." He was tapped by one of the event producers, needed for another pre-show procedure. "Where will you be tonight?" 

"To your right, in the pit."

He smiled and you had almost immediately fallen in love with the crinkles that appeared under the corners of his eyes. "I'll look out for you. It was wonderful meeting you. Oh, shit, wait, just remembered— may I?" he gestured for the phone that was in your hand and you unlocked it before passing it to him. 

You watched as he dialed a number and put the phone to his ear. He paused for a moment before he grinned. "Hi Harry, it's you from before the show. This is a message to remind you to text this number and ask the owner of it out on a date. She's the one with the beautiful smile and great tackling skills. You won"t have forgotten her. 'Kay, bye!"

You laughed at an almost embarrassing volume, blown away by his cheek. 

"Why not ask 'her' out now?" you pondered to him as he handed the phone back.

"What, and risk getting shot down? Wouldn't want to be sad and disappointed through my whole show, now would I?"

"It would make the ballads a bit more emotional," you had reasoned with a grin.

"Ouch! They're already filled with emotion, love. You'll see, I'll sing 'em right to you if I have to. Gotta run, thank you for letting me use your phone, that was a very important message!"

You laughed again as he took off. "Harry!" you had shouted to get his attention in the busy hall. He turned quickly, a small smile on his face. "She definitely won't say no, but you can wait until later to ask if you want to."

His grin stretched wider and he'd pumped a fist in the air before turning and jogging down the hallway. 

You liked to joke with anyone who knew the story that your life had changed that day all because you met Kacey. Which wasn't a complete lie - it had been her dressing room you'd come out of before slamming into Harry in the hallway. 

///

Singing the last lines of one of your songs, your stomach began to flutter in a bit of nervousness and a lot of excitement. Performing the next cover was something you had been looking forward to for months, and the moment that you got to share it with your fans was finally here. 

You retreat from the mic stand to pass your guitar off to a stagehand, taking another sip of water to settle yourself. 

"Doing alright?" Wyatt, your drummer, shouts over the pounding bass drum and you give him a thumbs up before turning back to face the crowd. 

"I've got one more cover to play for y'all tonight," you say, grasping the mic stand to keep your hands from shaking. "I've been working on getting permission to play this one for quite awhile now. I fell in love with it the first time I heard it played and now here I am, performing it for you all. It's an unreleased piece by a very, very good friend of mine, but his performances of it are all over the internet so some of you may know the words. This song is called Medicine."

The song starts out with a steady bass line and the rhythm centers you a bit, steadying any nerves that still linger. The intro gives you a minute to shake out your shoulders and get comfortable at the mic stand once more like Harry does at each performance. You catch yourself having fun mimicking him and feel thankful that you're able to perform one of your favorite songs of his. When the bass drops in pitch and the electric guitar riffs, you slide in close to the mic stand.

"Here to take my medicine, take my medicine," you sang the opening lines, already settling into the sexy rock sound of the song you and the band had rehearsed relentlessly over the last few weeks. No, the genre wasn't one you normally dabbled in, but part of the fun of performing was taking chances, risks. You had to admit, you liked the sound a lot. It tempted you to branch out a bit more on your upcoming album. 

The opening lines of the first verse throw you back into thoughts of meeting Harry that first night. You hadn't imagined what would follow the concert, let alone have the foresight to see it bringing you to this very moment in time. 

///

You had been standing outside the arena after the concert, ears buzzing and heart thumping still from the incredible show Harry had put on. As soon as he disappeared from the backstage hall earlier, you had immediately saved his number to your phone, still in disbelief over the night's events. 

Your heart had soared when your phone began to vibrate, not in a text message but in a voice call. Harry's name appeared on the screen and your friend had nudged you, clearly approving of the night's turn of events. 

"Harry," you answered, ready to praise him halfway to Sunday on his performance. 

"Let me take you out," he interrupted you. "Right now. Please? Anywhere you want to go." 

You laughed and paused. "Yeah, okay. I might know of a place."

There was a lot of shuffling on his end before his voice came back on the line. "Might've had to do another fist pump."

"Told you she wouldn't say no."

"Where are you?" You heard the smile in his voice, already familiar with it. 

"Demonbreun and John Lewis, headed towards the park."

"Give me 10, I'll pick you up." He paused. "Be careful, okay?"

"I'll stick with the hoards of your fans milling about, maybe ask some of them for the hot gossip on you while I wait."

"Don't believe anything they say," he said, and you could tell he was still smiling as he hung up. 

He and his driver arrived shortly after, Harry's hair damp and covered with a baseball cap, dressed down in black pants and a simple loose white shirt, tattoos peeking out everywhere you looked. He exited the car and opened the back door for you, helping you balance as you stepped up into the large Suburban. 

"We'll go to Pecker's," you said to his driver, laughing as Harry snorted next to you. "Shut up, it's just a bar. Take a right up here onto 24 and it'll take us all the way to Fairfield. It'll be on the right."

He looked at you and smiled before reaching out to hold your hand in the middle seat between you. 

Taking Harry to Pecker's had just felt right. It was where you'd been discovered, where all of your adventures had started, and you weren't sure why but you wanted to share that small part of you with him after watching him up on stage that night. 

"Won't people recognize you? I looked you up before the show, you're apparently a pretty big deal around here." He had asked, smirking, sipping on the locally-brewed beer that Clint, the regular bartender, was serving that night. 

"Locals are pretty good about not interrupting our normal lives. Pecker's isn't as well known to tourists either, so it's a good hideout. This is where a lot of producers, executives and all the other professionals come to unwind." You ignored his comment on your fame and had taken a sip of your margarita instead. "Unless, of course, there's a drag show scheduled, then it's a bit of a madhouse."

Harry laughs into his drink and you grin. "So," he started after a pause, twiddling with the rings on his right hand. "What'd you think?"

"It was incredible," you said without hesitation. "Truly one of the best live shows I've seen in a long time, country acts included. You've got such a magnetism about you that people can't help but want to watch." You blushed a bit, alcohol and the quick comfort of him loosening your lips. "The whole water spraying trick was hot," you admit, making him blush. "And don't tell Stevie, but I think I might prefer your version of The Chain."

"Sacrilege! That's some incredibly high praise," he said, a small smile teasing at the corners of his mouth. 

"Earned and deserved," you said, tilting your glass to his. "Honestly, Harry, you're an incredible musician. There aren't many out there that have the whole package like that."

"What about you? You seem like the whole package."

"I don't know if I'd say that. If you looked me up, you've likely seen what they say about me. 'My attitude won't get me far' and all. But I don't think it's my attitude, so much as it is my willingness to take the risks that others won't. I'm not out here to make music that's just there to be sold. Hell, I couldn't care less about the money. All I want is to create music that makes me feel fulfilled, and I think that honesty scares them." You twirled your finger in the condensation of the glass in front of you. You glanced up to his face finding his eyes already on yours, holding your gaze steadily. "It doesn't scare you, does it?"

"It's the most refreshing thing I've heard in a while. Not many people in the industry are fearless in the face of failure like that."

"I'm definitely not fearless; I just refuse to change who I am to make a buck."

"Who are you then?" Harry had asked, and telling him your story was easy. You couldn't understand how it was so natural, opening up to a stranger, but as the conversation wore on, you realized how similar you and Harry were in terms of the way you conducted your professional lives and that was without apology. 

And you also realized, as the evening continued and you and Harry crept your bar stools closer and closer to one another, feet and knees bumping, his fingers tracing the ridges of your knuckles as you shared life stories like long lost friends, that you didn't want it to end. 

///

"He's acting like a gentleman," you continue, changing up the lyrics slightly as you finish the first verse. The line always made you smile and you let yourself briefly flash back into your reminiscing about the night you'd met Harry, and how, even though he had acted gentlemanly upon dropping you off for the evening, you wanted to be anything but a gentlewoman. 

///

After enjoying drinks late into the evening at Pecker's, Harry had insisted on having his driver take you home rather than allowing you to call an Uber. 

"Such a gentleman," you commented as he opened the car door for you once again. 

"Maybe my gentlemanly actions have motives," he said, sliding his hand along your lower back as you step past him and into the car. Your grin matched his smirk as he shut the door and you decided that he'd been right - not calling an Uber was the right thing to do.

The car ride back to your apartment building was too quick and before you knew it, he was at your door again, offering a hand for you to hold for balance as you exited the car. Neither of you let go as you walked through the lobby towards the elevators. 

"You're uh— You're welcome to come up, if you'd like," you said, suddenly shy but not wanting to chicken out on asking for what you wanted, asking for some continuation of this sweet but likely brief meeting between you two. "For a drink, I mean, or to keep chatting, you know."

Harry smiled and glanced around the empty lobby. His hand in yours smoothed up the length of your arm, over your shoulder, and came to rest at your jaw. "I'd love to, believe me. You have no idea how much I want to." He leaned towards you, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead and your skin burned at the contact of his lips. "But I want to do this the right way. Don't want you to get the wrong idea of me."

"What if I want the wrong idea of you?"

He laughed, the sound open and honest and it had given you hope. "You called me a gentleman earlier and I have to admit that I liked it, coming from you. Would like to keep up the facade that I am, even if it's just for a bit." His face searched yours, each of you trying to read the thoughts that were flying through one another's minds. "You have beautiful lips," he whispered suddenly, his accent thicker than it had been all night. 

Your mouth quirked into a smile, unable to do anything but preen at his compliment. "You do too," you replied, just as softly. 

"Can I kiss you?"

"Please, yes." Before the words had settled he was kissing you, slowly and with too much care, like you would break if he wasn't gentle enough. It was over much too quick but you knew you would remember every moment of it for the rest of your life. 

"Christ, I'd wanted to do that all night." His thumb smoothed over your cheekbone, smiling when you leaned into the touch. He glanced up as the elevator doors swung open and gently nudged you towards them. "Thank you, truly, for a wonderful evening. I promise to give you a call soon."

"I'll send Kacey after you if you don't!" you laughed, stepping into the lift.

"Good night darling." He winked and the doors slid shut, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the delicious ghost of his lips on yours. 

///

"Give me that adrenaline, that adrenaline, think I'm gonna stick with you," you finish the first verse as Ryann rips through the chords on her guitar. You loved that the song built slowly, and even though that meant a quieter beginning, it promised an explosive end. 

Though the crowd had been hesitant at first, you can see that the first few rows of them are nodding along, countless phones out recording the performance. You know that somewhere out there at your request is a member of your press team, professionally filming the cover. You may only be doing it once, but you were determined to make sure you would never forget it.

///

You had enough time at home to check some of your social media accounts, shower and get comfortable in bed before your phone rang again. For the second time that day, your heart soared seeing Harry's name light up your screen.

"If you're going to say that you're downstairs because you've reconsidered my offer for that nightcap, I'll need a few moments to prepare as I'm currently in my pajamas," you said as a greeting and you were met with his warm laughter once again.

"No, no, I had to go back to the arena for a bit anyways, pack up and all of that," he said, still chuckling. "I just— I wanted to make sure you weren't offended by me declining your offer. Because I wanted to— I didn't want the night to end there. There's something about you that's… Transfixing. And I don't want to ruin that and make you think you're just a fling."

"That's quite a compliment," you said, a bit awed by his words.

"What was it you said earlier, "earned and deserved", yeah?" He said, quoting your toast to him at the bar, making you grin. "I want you to be more than that. I'd like to get to know you, the gentlemanly way."

"Okay. Will we have a chaperone at our next date then?" He laughed but didn't correct your referral to that evening as a date. You had snuggled a bit deeper into the sheets, still disbelieving that all of this had been the result of being dragged along to a concert. 

"No chaperones," he chuckled, "but yes, I do want to take you out again, if you'd let me."

"Hmm," you jokingly pondered aloud, as if answering with anything other than a resounding "yes" was on your mind. "I suppose I could fit something into my schedule."

"I hope that's a yes."

"Of course it's a yes! I didn't want the night to end either. And don't you dare say that you just did another fist pump," you had laughed, hearing the familiar shuffling of the phone on his end of the line.

"Me? Never!"

"You're adorable," you had said, a smile stuck on your face.

"And you're beautiful. Two can play this game."

There had been a comforting silence between you for a moment before you had spoken up again. "Harry?"

"Yeah, love?"

You had blushed at the pet name but loved the way it sounded being directed your way. "Thank you," you had whispered. 

"Should be me thanking you. Sleep well sweetheart." You'd fallen asleep with your phone in hand, hopeful that you wouldn't wake up the next morning to realize it had all been a dream.

/// 

It hadn't been a dream, and here you were, nearly two years later, performing one of the songs that Harry himself had sung the night that you'd begun falling for him.

The second verse continued quickly and you let the lyrics wash over you as you sang, loving the way the rock energy of the song sounded with a bit of your band's country influence. 

"Here to take my medicine, take my medicine, rest it on your fingertips," you sang, holding your pointer finger in the air much like Harry did every time he performed the song before bringing it to your lips as you sang the next line. "Up to your mouth, feeling it out, feeling it out."

/// 

Beginning to date Harry - properly date him too, not just make FaceTime calls to one another from across the world and sending texts back and forth until the wee hours of the morning thanks to the differences in time zones, sharing everything and more with one another as best you could digitally - had been the most exhilarating experience of your life, and you had performed in front of sold out crowds and accepted awards on live television. His tour was due to stretch on for almost another month throughout North America and the next time you saw him was when you'd been invited as Harry's guest to his show in Chicago just a few weeks after you'd met. 

While he had put on an incredible show for the United Center, there had been moments that felt like he was performing just for you, glancing over to where you stood in the Friends and Family area, meeting your eyes and grinning. By that point, you could sing along to every song of his and you knew he loved it, loved watching you dance along to the music that he had created and was performing. 

In a moment where you were thankful for the differences between the genres in which you two performed, you hadn't been recognized at all by his fans. You'd both talked about wanting to keep things quiet as you got to know one another, and you hadn't wanted a relationship with him, an already incredibly famous artist, to somehow influence the trajectory of yours. While it had been easy when you were apart, being together without seemingly being together was difficult. Especially in that moment, when all you wanted to do was curl up into him and soak in the post-show bliss with him. Instead, you sat on the couch with him, a cushion apart from one another, holding his hand tightly while you chatted about the concert. 

"Someone is gonna notice that you looked to my side of the pit constantly all night," you said and he grinned guiltily. 

"I like knowing you're in the crowd," he shrugged. "Besides," he scooted closer and threw his arm around you before dragging you in close, "you look incredible, how could I not want to stare at you all night?"

"Anyone could walk in," you pointed out, watching as his eyes followed your lips. 

"Just want a little taste," he said, moving in closer, "Haven't I earned a kiss from my girlfriend after all of that work up on stage?"

Your eyebrows raised in surprise as you looked at him and he seemingly realized his slip-up. 

"I mean— What I meant was— Shit," he scrubbed a hand over his face but you could tell he was hiding a grin. "Wasn't exactly how I wanted to ask you, but… Will you officially be my girlfriend?"

"Yes, H. I'm all yours."

"Love it when you call me H." He pulled you in for a kiss that you both lost yourselves in, finally able to experience the feeling of one another after being denied it for so long. When a knock at the dressing room door came, Harry had to all but drag himself away from you, hair disheveled and lips swollen, scowling at the door. 

You threw your head back and laughed as he stalked over and pulled it open with a flourish. 

"What?"

"The hell's your issue?" you heard Mitch ask before Harry widened the door so he could see you laughing on the couch. You raised a hand in greeting and Harry's scowl deepened as Mitch chuckled, taking in both of your disheveled appearances. "Oh, shit, hey, sorry. Uh, car's ready when you are. See you tomorrow bud." 

"Harry!" you chided once he'd closed the door in Mitch's face, giggles still bubbling out of your mouth. "He was just being polite."

"Interrupting arse is what he is," Harry said, sitting down and pulling you into his lap. "Where were we?"

You threw your arms around his neck and pressed your body as close to his as possible, hoping that he'd thought to lock the door before returning to your embrace. "Right about here, I think." With a hand on your hip, sliding under your shirt to reach warm skin and one at the back of your neck, Harry kissed you until you were breathless and not only wanting more but very seriously needing it. 

"Come back to the hotel with me," he murmured against your lips as you ground your body down on him, reveling in the way the action made him throw his head against the back of the couch and exhale sharply. 

"You sure?" Your hands smoothed over the chest of his skin, tracing the dark swallows with your fingertips as you rolled your hips. 

He shuddered at the light touch and gripped your hips tightly, pressing his up as you pressed yours down and the action made you sigh, the pressure a delicious tease of what was hopefully to come. "Absolutely," he said, his grin telling you he was pleased with the noises he was causing you to make. "Want you so bad, like I won't be able to breathe right until I properly have you."

You leaned in to kiss at his neck, his shower-damp curls tickling your cheek. "The feeling is mutual. Adored watching you up on stage tonight. Have I told you yet how much I love seeing you perform?" You nuzzle at his neck, urging him to tilt his head back farther, exposing more of his skin to you. 

"Yeah, you have, but tell me again," he sighed, his hands running up and down your back. 

"It's like when you get on stage no one else before or after you matters," you said honestly, letting your lips against his skin hide how truthful you were really being, spilling all of your thoughts about seeing Harry up on stage. It was scary, feeling so deeply for him already. But you wanted him to know, at least in part, what it meant to be able to watch him perform. "Something about your live voice just makes my breath catch in my throat, I can't get enough of it."

Harry breathed deeply for a moment, working to center himself while you nosed at the curls around his ear and heaped praise upon him. 

"It's like you connect with every person out in the crowd, like you're singing just for them. You can tell that you're having fun and people want to join you in that. They know you love the attention," you whispered and he hummed in appreciation (or agreement), the sound low in his throat. "They'd stay out there all night for if they could, screaming about how much they love you."

"And you feed into it, playing it up for them. You know exactly what you're doing when you get to act a little bit naughty up there, driving them all mad," you said with a smile. 

He chuckled and you could hear and feel the sound rumble through him. "Played it up for you tonight. Did it work?" 

"You mean did it make me want to jump your bones the second you came off stage? Yeah, it worked."

"Fucking hell," he said, holding you close with his hands on your butt as he stood up. "Our first time is not going to be in a dressing room so we need to go now."

He let you slide down his body and held you steady as you balanced on your legs. "Would be pretty fitting though, don't you think, given how we met and what we do?"

"Yeah, but then I'd think about it every time I was in one. You wanna torture me relentlessly?" He pulled you tight against him, kissing you once more before separating to grab his bags. 

"Yeah, relentless torture sounds like something I might be into." 

He glanced up at your words, eyes dark and hungry, a smirk on his lips. "Careful what you wish for, love." 

///

The bass line increased behind the riff of Ryann's guitar and you leaned into the mic stand, eyes closing as you continued singing the first bridge. "I had a few, got drunk on you and now I'm wasted, and when I sleep I'm gonna dream of how you…"

There were a few fans of yours and Harry's who apparently knew the words as they helped you out, screaming the unwritten word that finished the sentence: "tasted."

///

Harry was quick to say goodbye to everyone on the team before pulling you quickly through back hallways and down quiet staircases, sneaking quick kisses when he was sure there was no one around. You were both out of breath when you finally climbed into the car, grinning like kids getting away with sneaking around. 

The hotel ride was quick, mercifully, but Harry had been anything but patient, his hand at your knee creeping up slowly, closer and closer to the hem of your dress, toying with the hem while he chatted with the driver. 

"I'm gonna head in first with Martin and Eric will loop around and drop you off at the side entrance. I would wait in the lobby for you but this hotel hasn't been the best in the past with uh— containing sensitive information, we'll say, so Martin will meet you on your floor to get your stuff, then bring you up. Is that okay?"

"You sound like you've done this before, Styles," you said with a wink, using humor to cover the nerves that had settled in the pit of your stomach. 

He blushed and you loved knowing you got under his skin so easily. "The band used to stay here when we toured… and I was young and dumb once, yes."

"Just giving you a hard time, H."

His grin stretched as he leaned over to peck your lips once more. "See you in a minute, love."

Harry climbed out and the driver took off once again, slowly circling the block. "He's quite taken with you, you know," he said, glancing up in the rear view mirror as he parked the car at the curb. He got out and opened the door for you in the empty street then used his keycard to unlock the heavy side door of the hotel.

"Thank you," you said, both for his actions and his omission about Harry. Sure, you had talked to him as often as possible over the last weeks and had yourself been on the receiving end of his attention, but it felt validating to hear that Harry's feelings for you may have gone a bit farther than just a small crush if people around him had also noticed his behavior. 

Harry's bodyguard was waiting by the elevators and escorted you to your room to gather your luggage, then led you to Harry's door.

"Car'll be around about 9 tomorrow morning, H. Flight's at 10:30." He turned to you. "I understand you have business to continue here in Chicago?"

"Yes, meetings tomorrow and then I fly back to Nashville in the evening."

"There'll be a driver ready for you tomorrow as well. He's been instructed to take you wherever you need to go and he'll stay until you depart. Have a nice evening," he nodded at Harry, who was smiling in the doorway, before departing.

"You didn't have to do that for me, I could've managed by getting an Uber," you said, stepping into the room past Harry to set your bags down and kick your shoes off. 

"I didn't, was Martin's idea; says he doesn't want anything to happen to the one thing that's made me so happy these last few weeks."

"Oh yeah? I'm the one thing, huh?"

"You're everything, honestly," he replied a bit sheepishly, taking your hands in his. "Think I might like you a bit more than I already should. Lettin' my heart get a bit ahead of my head, I suppose."

"Yeah, I know the feeling," you said softly and he beamed. 

He moved his hands up to cup your face, pulling you close for a sweet kiss that quickly turned insistent, heat rising between the two of you. Harry slid his hands under the hem of your shirt to rest where your spin ended and yours wrapped around his neck, dragging him down to you as you stepped behind you towards the bed. His long legs tangled with yours and you tumbled backwards, laughing as you hit the plush bed and Harry collapsed on top of you.

He propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at you with a smile, pushing the hair that had fallen into your face aside. "Hi baby," he said softly.

"Hi."

"Missed you," he said, leaning down for another sweet kiss. 

"We were apart for like, eight minutes," you giggled between his kisses, your laughter giving way to a sigh as he moved to press a kiss to your nose, your cheek, your chin.

"Doesn't matter," he breathed into the crook of your neck, pressing small open mouth kisses to the soft skin there, "Any time apart is too long."

"The two weeks left of the tour will fly by. You should enjoy them while you can."  

"Wish you could come with me, love performing for you." He kissed his way across the base of your neck, collarbone to collarbone as his fingers trailed to the small straps on your shoulders. "Would you like to take this off?"

"Please," you sighed, desperate and aching for the feeling of his skin against yours. 

Your first time sleeping with Harry had been exactly what you'd wanted and expected - hot and fast, admittedly over a bit more quickly than either of you had wanted, but worth the weeks of wait. 

Harry's skill set hadn't ended at singing and playing instruments. If anything, his vast experience using his hands and mouth only helped him excel in other pastimes that also utilized those parts of his body. To both of your delights, he had proven his adeptness in all areas multiple times that night, and once again in the morning before he had to rush into the shower, dragging you along with him simply to get more time together before you were forced apart once again. 

/// 

You had spent the next two months away from one another, Harry having wrapped his tour and immediately beginning work on his next album. You'd spent your own time mixed between writing and recording an upcoming single. You had already written a handful of songs that were inspired by him and you'd wondered, albeit a bit nervously, if the sentiment was shared. When he stopped in Nashville on a long layover, pushing his flight back even longer to stay with you for another night, you'd tried to pry the information out of him. Unfortunately, no amount of sexual teasing or denial had convinced him — he, however, had you singing like a canary almost immediately, teasing you in the best way about how easily you opened up for him, telling him all about the music that he had already inspired.

You had been FaceTiming him late one night weeks later, both tired from long days spent in the studio. He had suddenly gotten shy, biting at the skin around his fingernails. 

"Hey, stop that. What's the matter H?"

"Wanna ask you something," he mumbled, but a smile was peeking through where his fingers were still at his lips. "Jus' don't know how to."

"Baby," you sighed, "you can ask me anything. Y'know that." 

"I know, I know." He paused and took a deep breath before a wide smile stretched across his face. "Would you maybe want to come home with me this Christmas? To London? Wouldn't be for long, maybe just a couple nights, I just wanna introduce you to my mum already, she's been pestering me nonstop lately 'bout meetin' you and Gem's joined in on it now too, so it's two against one when they call and I've told them that—"

"Harry," you said chucking, trying to interrupt his nervous rambling.

"—and she actually called me Harold last time she told me to bring you 'round and that got me a bit worried so I—"

"Harry! Of course I'll come with you. I'd absolutely love to."

You met him at the airport weeks later, desperate to pull him close and kiss him silly in the confines of his darkly tinted car, but you refrained, knowing how seriously Harry took the protection of your relationship from the press. You may not have been able to see anyone straining to capture pictures of you two, but you knew there was always the chance. 

It was an entirely different story, however, when he'd finally pulled the car past the mechanical gate and into his private drive. You both reached for each other immediately, arms tangled and shifter knob pressed uncomfortably against your side, but perfectly content so long as his lips were against yours. 

"Fuck— I missed you— so much," he muttered between kisses. He pulled away, forehead resting against yours, sly smirk pulling at his lips. "Mum won't expect us for a few hours at least."

"What is it that you're insinuating, Mr. Styles?"

"That there's plenty of time to give you a tour around the house, that's all," he said innocently. He gave you a sweet smile before hopping out of the car and coming to the passenger side where he helped you out and picked up your bags.

You were eager to be given a house tour, more than keen to learn all of the things you could about his London life. The house was decorated in a way that made you smile - eclectic but with a definitive air of cohesive taste. It suited Harry to an absolute tee. From the artwork that decorated the walls to the mismatched but homey furniture, you could tell immediately that this was Harry's sanctuary - every inch of the home screamed his name. 

"It's incredible," you said as he led you into the largest room, the master. He walked over to the dresser that sat under the window and pulled open the top two drawers. 

"I know we won't be here long, this time around, but I cleaned out a few drawers for you here, if you want to unpack some things. And there's space in the closet for you too," he nodded towards the door on the other side of the room, dragging a hand through his hair as he talked, "I had too much in there anyways and some of it needed to go and I wanted you to be able to leave some things, if you felt comfortable, of if Mum drags us out shopping and you don't want to take it all home now you can leave it here and-"

"You- you cleared out a drawer for me?"

"Well, yeah," he said, resting his hand on the back of his neck. "Made some space for you in the bathroom too, though I doubt it'll be enough, with all that you bring along to fix yourself up." He paused and thought for a moment. "I know how our lives are. I just wanted you to have some of your own space here; want you to feel as comfortable in my home as I do. Is that too much?" 

"H," you said with a sigh, your lips curling into a smile, "it's perfect, and so thoughtful. I'm sorry I haven't done the same for you in Nashville yet."

"'s alright, love. I've already got a toothbrush there at least. I can take some time when we fly back to come and help if you'd like me to. As long as you don't end up wearing all the clothes that I leave there," he chuckled.

"You know me too well," you said, reaching for his hand. He lifted your entwined fingers to his lips to brush a kiss over your knuckles.

"You do look good in my clothes," he confessed, pulling you close to face him. "Look good in my house. But you always look good anyways."

"Said the pot to the kettle," you said with a smile. "I like being here already," you shrug, hands resting on his shoulders. "It feels like you, like home. Thank you for inviting me," you add, as though the measly voicing of your appreciation is enough to convey what you truly feel. 

"You're welcome anytime, if I'm here or not."

"You trust me that much?"

"Yeah, I do. I'll get you a key and everything." He leaned down to kiss you slowly, relearning the map of your lips and mouth, before pulling away. He laughed when you made a noise of protest.

"The bathroom's over here if you'd like to freshen up." He had pulled at your hand, stepping towards the other open door in the room. "Figured a shower might sound nice after a long day in an airplane. Besides, I've gotta clean up before we go to Mum's anyways."

"Gonna join me?" 

"Yeah, thought I might, if that's okay." His smirk had been wicked as he pushed you the rest of the way into the bathroom. He dropped your hand to reach for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head quickly. As he reached for the buckle of his pants, he had met your staring eyes. "See something you like, love?"

You definitely had, though you didn't think your attraction — physically or emotionally — for Harry had stopped at something that was as weak as "like." Getting to know him over the last six months had made you worry that there wasn't ever going to be anyone else like him, anyone that made you feel like he did. You had fallen for him, desperately hard, and the realization of it as you stood in front of his half-naked self almost embarrassed you. 

"Babe? You alright?" he asked as he stripped down to his boxers. 

"Yeah, you just got me all distracted," you had grinned, pulling your sweatshirt and remaining clothes off quickly before joining Harry under the warm spray of the water.

Meeting Harry's mom that evening went better than you could've ever dreamt it would. The two of you got on like old friends, and Harry had stared, almost in wonder, at how easily you seemed to bond with her. And then he had stared in horror as Anne offered to pull out the photo albums filled with pictures from Harry's childhood, particularly when Anne offered up the album filled with photos from Harry's and Gemma's emo phases. 

As the evening wore on, you caught Harry on more than one occasion glancing your way, cheeks bright from the red wine he was sipping on and eyes warmly reflecting the bright Christmas lights. He always looked like he was a split second away from saying something, only to shake his head and look away with a small smile. 

Later, in bed, Harry pulled you close to him. He was laying on his back, you on your side, and you threw a leg over his waist, soaking in all of the cuddles you could get on this short trip together. The room was only illuminated by the ambient light coming in through the blinds. 

"Mum liked you a lot," he murmured, gently stroking the skin at the base of your spine, "said I should hang onto you". 

You returned the gesture, running your fingertips along the lines of ink that make up his many tattoos. "I liked her too. She's wonderful, I see where you get it from now."

"Hey now, 'm wonderful all on my own!" He tickled your side and you couldn"t help but arch towards him, shrieking and laughing at the touch. 

"Stop that! You are an absolute pest, you know that?" you said, grinning up at him.

"Ah, you love me," he whispered, and his joking tone made you smile but the way he pulled you tighter as he said it made you brave. 

You let the weight what you were about to say wash over you, aware that things were going to change forever with just a few words. "I do love you, Harry," you whispered, moving up his body to press a kiss to his lips.

"Thank God," he had said, wrapping his arms back around you and pulling you on top of him. "Cause I love you too."

Leaving Harry after that had been even more difficult. All you wanted to do was be with him, but you had too much coming up with the future release of your album and Harry was still in the midst of doing his own writing and recording. 

It was your professions, along with the desire to keep your relationship private, that kept you apart. You weren't sure how you did it, but your relationship had withstood the distance and odd-hours. The only step now would be deciding if, when, and how to confirm the suspicions to tabloids and fans alike that you were an item.

The wait was killing you. All you wanted was to show off to the world that Harry was yours.

///

The bridge of the song was followed quickly by the chorus and the heavy guitar and pounding drums had you rocking on your feet, body swaying into the mic stand as you let yourself get lost in the lyrics. "If you go out tonight, I'm going out 'cause I know you're persuasive."

The crowd was even more into the song now, many picking up on the words quickly and screaming them along with your singing. The rock and roll vibe of the song was coursing through you and the crowd, the arena electric with energy already. 

"You got that something, I got me an appetite, now I can taste it."

You remove the mic from the stand and dance towards one end of the stage, singing as you move to the beat. "We're getting dizzy, oh, we're getting dizzy, oh! La da da da da! You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh!"

///

You had been on the phone with Harry one day in July, nearly five months after the release of your album, having him help you decide what the setlist of your tour would be when it began in November. 

"I wish I could cover one of your songs."

He had laughed and slurped his tea, the sounds comforting to you, even over the phone. "That'd be a bit obvious, wouldn't it love?"

"I don't mean cover Golden or Kiwi," you said, tapping your pen against the pad of paper in front of you. "What about one you wrote for 1D? What about Perfect? Or Stockholm Syndrome! That was always one of my favorites."

"Getting permission on those might be a bit more difficult, s'not just me that's gotta sign off on it. Besides, do you really wanna be the artist that covers a One Direction song on her own headlining tour?"

"Guess I'll stick with singing along to them in the shower then."

You were both quiet for a moment, lost in your own thoughts. 

"What if I covered Medicine?" you asked suddenly, realizing it was the perfect compromise, not to mention your favorite song that Harry himself performed oh his own tour. The rock sound wasn't a far cry from the roots that country music had and you knew it would sound great. "Even if it was just for one stop!"

"Hmm," Harry mused. "It would sound great with the band, I'll give you that. But videos will go around, people will know it's my song you're singing and they'll connect the dots about us."

"H, I'm ready for that if you are. I love you, and I'm ready to be able to share that love that I have for you with the world. Sneaking around has been fun but I want people to know how proud of you I am and how much you're loved and appreciated. Half of our fans know already, it's just a matter of us confirming it. I think that we could really-"

Harry was laughing at your rambling on the other end of the line. "Alright, alright, you drive a hard bargain, love. I think you're right, maybe it is time we stopped sneaking around. I'll try, but Jax and everyone else still have to agree to it too. It might be easier to convince everyone if it's just a one time thing. Pick another cover, something you'd normally do, in case it takes some time to work things out."

"I'll ask him right now! Thank you Harry!"

"I just have one condition," he said, and you could hear the grin that was surely pulling at the corners of his lips. 

"What's that?"

"I get to perform it with you," he had said, and the smile already on your face widened exponentially. "If we're finally gonna make "us" public, may as well do it with a bang."

///

In the moment after the chorus, an 8 count beat is carried by the drummer and guitarist. For this performance, and the only performance you'd put on of this song, you had rehearsed the 8 count repeating once between the chorus and the next verse, as you needed a bit of extra time to announce your guest performer. 

"Ladies and gentlemen," you shout into the mic, grin wide and face beaming already at what was about to take place. "To help me finish this performance, please help me welcome my very good friend, Harry Styles!"

Harry emerges from behind the stage holding his own wireless mic as much of the crowd screams - he may not be a country artist, but he was absolutely known worldwide. You step back with a wave of your arm, smiling as he begins the next chorus. His performance is for the crowd but he's singing the words directly to you. 

"Tingle running through my bones, fingers to my toes, tingle running through my bones," he sings, voice smooth like whiskey, and the crowd adores him, eating out of the palm of his hand. "The boys and the girls are in, I mess around with them, and I'm OK with it." 

You can't help but dance as he sings, his voice and the energy of the crowd propelling you to move. He watches you, eyes no longer on the crowd, as he sings the next lines. Immediately, heat pools low in your belly at his glance and the words. 

"I'm coming down, I figured out I kinda like it. And when I sleep I'm gonna dream of how you…"

You gyrate your hips at the unsung line of "ride it", listening with a sly grin as some in the crowd scream the two words that go unsung. 

///

After giving him a key, Harry had moved some of his clothes to your apartment in Nashville some time while you were away on the first leg of your tour. He had found the city to be incredibly welcoming and inspirational for his upcoming album and had decided to stay there for a spell while you continued to tour around the country. 

You had scheduled a short break between your concerts over New Years, wanting to be able to grab at least one or two nights at home with him to celebrate the holiday before you were back on the road again. 

"So fucking glad you're home," Harry panted, pulling your shirt over your head before attaching his lips to yours once again. "Missed you like crazy."

"Missed you too," you moaned as his lips moved downwards, across your neck and over your collarbones, down the valley between your breasts. Before he could reach around to unhook your bra, you reached for his shirt, as desperate as he was to see and touch what you'd been missing. 

As he pulled the half-unbuttoned blouse over his head, you pulled your leggings off and reached for him, pushing him back onto the bed behind him. He unbuttoned his pants as he scooted up towards the middle of the bed, shoving them and his boxers off in one swoop. 

You climbed on top of him, hurriedly reaching to kiss him as you rubbed your clothed center along the length of his hard cock. 

"Fuck," he hissed, throwing his head back to allow you room to kiss his neck. "Desperate aren't you, darling?"

"Want you so bad it hurts," you whispered, sucking a bright hickey right where it would absolutely be seen by anyone.

You moved to continue kissing down his chest but he stopped you with a hand under your arm. "Not gonna last long, love. Wanna be inside you."

His cheeks and chest were flushed bright red, lips puffy and pupils blown wide. This was when you loved him most, being able to have him like no one else did. The same feeling always hit you at certain moments, particularly ones of domesticity, like when you watched him back the car out of the driveway or when he stood in the kitchen in the morning in nothing but socks, boxers, and his ratty old robe, singing along to old big band jazz as he waited for the coffee to brew. There was Harry Styles the musician, Harry Styles the actor, and Harry Styles the performer, but then there was your Harry. 

"Yeah, okay," you sighed, moving off of him quickly to remove your bra and panties. You climbed back onto the bed and threw your leg over his hips, straddling him. He immediately reached for you and pulled you flush against his chest, his lips capturing yours in a bruising kiss. 

You rocked your hips against him as he held you, your slick arousal gliding along his length, drawing a moan from both of you. 

"Baby, please," he panted, and you could only mod in agreement, lost already to the sweeping feeling of your close release. 

His hands rested on your hips as you positioned him at the entrance between your legs. You groaned in harmony as you worked down him slowly, the only sound in the room was your shared heavy breathing and gasps. 

"Fuck me," he sighed as you set a slow pace, rocking on top of him to reach each spot that you know will get you there. 

"Workin' on it," you grin. A quick swivel of your hips hit at just the right angle and you tossed your head back, repeating the movement over and over again until you shuddered with a final snap of tension, your orgasm rolling over you as Harry helped you move, hands tight on your hips, to wring all you could from the release. 

"You look so beautiful right now, like a fuckin' angel," Harry said, voice low and gravely, accent thick with need. 

"How's that line go?" you said as you slowed down, smirking when a harsh rock of your hips caused Harry to moan. "'Turns out she's a devil in between the sheets'?"

"Fuck," he groaned again, eyes closed tightly. "Can't just go reciting my own lyrics to me while I"m buried in ya like this, love."

"And there's nothing you can do about it," you continued, singing the line of his song this time, and his hips buck up into yours harshly.

"You're gonna pay for that," he had said, quoting another of his songs, before he had flipped you over onto your back and set his own brutal pace.

///

Like he can read your thoughts, Harry beams and wags a finger in your direction and the crowd screams at your chemistry together. You grab your mic from its stand and take a step towards Harry to sing the chorus together.

"If you go out tonight, I'm going out 'cause I know you're persuasive." Harry dances off to the side of the stage, performing once again for the crowd. 

You dance at center stage with your wireless mic, too excited about performing with Harry that you can't stand in one spot. The music and Harry's energy make you want to move. "You got that something, I got me an appetite, now I can taste it." 

"We're getting dizzy, oh, we're getting dizzy, oh! La da da da da!" Harry throws his head back, singing along in his own world and you can't look away from him. He really was a rockstar and getting to share the stage with him like this was an experience you'd never forget. 

"You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh!"

There's a great pause in the lyrics where the guitar, keyboard, and drums play together, increasing the tension of the song. You and Harry take off towards opposite ends of the stage, both reveling in the performance for the crowd as you dance and stomp to the beat. Eventually, with a slide down the keys of the keyboard, the instrumental quiets into just the steady beat of the bass line joined by the hi-hats. 

You and Harry urge the crowd to clap along as you both return to the middle of the stage to sing together once again. He always said that this portion of the song was one of his favorites to perform, the repeated line from the bridge ending abruptly with the lights going out before flashing back on, the added theatrics of the performance elevating the climax of the song completely. Having rehearsed that Harry would sing the following chorus alone, you let yourself get lost in his gaze as it settles on you.

You stand facing one another behind the mic stand, once again singing more to one another rather than to the crowd. You step closer towards him as the lyrics progress, nearly chest to chest now with your voices sharing one another's mics. "I had a few, got drunk on you and now I'm—"

Before you can sing the last word of the line and the lights can blink out as rehearsed, Harry leans forwards and captures your mouth in a hungry kiss. The crowd erupts with screams as the lights above the stage go dark.

You can feel rather than hear him say the words "I love you" against your lips and you have just enough time to repeat them back to him before the drums and guitar pick the beat up once again, the lights flashing back on brightly. He moves away and continues to sing the chorus that follows as if nothing had happened. You're a bit stunned, not having prepared for his relationship-revealing public display of affection to happen during your performance of his song but it was perfect and he knows it. Your smile is wide and you can't help but stand rooted where you are and laugh at what has just finally happened.

"If you go out tonight, I'm going out 'cause I know you're persuasive," he sings, smirking at you while you blush across from him. 

You join him in singing the last lines, your right hand joining his left hand where everyone can see your fingers entwine. 

"You got that something, I got me an appetite, now I can taste it. We're getting dizzy, oh, we're getting dizzy, oh!"

You urge the crowd with a waving hand to join in and they do, singing along with you and Harry. "La da da da da! You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh!"

The drums and guitar end the song on five quick beats and the crowd erupts once again in screams. You immediately jump towards Harry, throwing your arms around his neck in a close embrace. His hands wrap around your waist to hold you close, and you can feel him smile where his face is pressed close to your jaw.

"How was that?" he asks, chuckling against you.

"It was perfect, you're perfect. Thank you, H. For everything."

"Can take you on a proper date now, yeah? Wanna show my girl off to the world."

"Yes, please!" You can't wipe the smile from your face as he sets you down and Harry continues to beam at you as the crowd continues screaming, reeling from your shared performance. 

Harry nudges you gently before turning back to them, lifting his and your arms high in the air and leading you in bending for a bow. He steps away from you and turns, opening his arms wide to you for the crowd to praise and you laugh, tearing up at his gesture and the overwhelming emotions of the performance while you take another bow just for yourself. 

He pulls you into another hug and you can't help but angle your face up towards him, wordlessly asking for another very quick, very public kiss.

He glances down at you, smiling. "You're gonna love this now, aren't you?"

"Course I am. love showing them you're mine."

He leans down to peck your forehead, your nose, and finally, your lips, as the crowd goes wild. "Love showing them you're mine. You've got a show to finish, love. Go kill it."

///

Ahh! So much fun! This has been such a joy to write and I appreciate you taking the time to give it a chance! It’s my first (of hopefully many) Harry fics - reading all of the stories here has been immensely inspiring, and I’m so looking forward to writing more!

Tagging my love @morganlatte​ who is a wonderful hype woman and beta reader. Thanks buddy!

Anyways! Thank you for reading! My love language is words of affirmation (aka I have a praise kink) so leave me a comment here if you feel so inclined!

[laylascornerr]

getaway (p js.)

genres: strangers to lovers au, 🌸, 🔥

pairing/s: jay x gn!reader

word count: 1,234 

warnings: slightly suggestive at the end (kissing)

summary: When you decide to go on a solo vacation to (tropical, beachy location of your choice), you meet a handsome stranger at the hotel. All your plans are thrown out the window and you let the wind guide you on a whimsical journey with this mysterious, charming young man. 

notes: 

I recommend listening to “Harleys in Hawaii” by Katy Perry while reading.

also, instead of y/n, I'll be using ___ to signal when to insert your name.

hope you enjoy!

You sigh as you stare up at the resort ridden with palm trees, the sound of your taxi fading into the distance. The vicinity was alive with the laughter of children splashing around in the pool, martini glasses clinking and the faint whoosh of the waves lapping onto the sand. The sun kisses your skin causing a tingling sensation. You take in a whiff of the salty scent of the sea. 

This was it -- the perfect vacation.

Lugging your luggage to the lift, you grunt at the heaviness. 

“Let me help.”

Before you could say anything, a young man swoops in, grabbing hold of your luggage and wheeling them into the lift. You follow him in, dumbstruck by the stranger’s act of kindness.

“Which level?” He asks, perking one of his eyebrows up.

“12.” You answer back, taking a good look at the guy who helped you. 

He was wearing a white tank top that perfectly accentuated his sculpted arms. His white top was paired with a pair of black shorts, emanating a boyish charm. You could see tiny beads of water embedded in his jet black hair, suggesting that he had just come back from a swim in the ocean.

It would be an understatement to say that he was handsome. 

“I’m Jay, by the way.” He suddenly spouts out, “I’m on level 2.”

You immediately form a connection with Jay, introducing yourself and telling him where you are from. The lift finally arrives at level 12 and the two of you walk out, laughing heartily about a funny childhood story that Jay had just shared.

“And the worst part was that I still ate the ice-cream, even though it was covered in sand!” Jay says in disbelief.

You scrunch up your face in disgust. “Eww!”

Jay chuckles at your reaction. “But, hey, I gotta admit. It did add a nice crunch to it.”

You playfully push Jay’s shoulder as you let out another “Eww!”

When you arrive at your room, you contemplate on whether to ask Jay for his number or not. It would be a real shame if you didn’t take this opportunity. It was as if Jay could read your mind, when he gives his number to you instead.

“I know this place quite well, so I can show you around. Just give me a ring.” He monologues, gesturing a phone to his ear. 

The next day, Jay unexpectedly knocks at your door early in the morning, greeting your groggy self with a beaming smile.

“Did I buttdial him in my sleep?” You think to yourself.

“Good morning, sleepyhead. Get ready. I have some places I wanna show you.” 

You groan at how early it is, but do as Jay says anyways. What could he possibly have planned out?

You step out of your room in your favourite summer outfit with bathers underneath, just in case this trip involves a bit of water, considering your vacation location. 

Jay whistles as he sees you. He stands with his back leaning on the wall and his arms crossed over his chest, one leg propped up to stabilise himself. You see his mesmerising brown eyes scan your figure. Feeling shy, you hug yourself.

“You look beautiful.” He says with so much sincerity that you feel butterflies form in the pit of your belly.

The butterflies turn into dread when you see what Jay has in store for you. He excitedly shows you his sleek, black motorbike, gushing over how it’s the fastest model in the city. You feel like throwing up at just the thought of going at top speed on the bike. 

“C’mon, ___! I know we’ve only known each other for a couple of hours, but I promise to keep you safe.” Jay insists, “And I’m telling you, this will be really fun!”

His enthusiasm increases your courage and one look at his determined expression convinces you to follow his lead. 

Jay claps and hollers in delight as you slowly nod your head. “Ok.”

He hands you a black helmet which you adjust onto your head. Its heaviness weighs you down. Slowly, you climb onto the motorbike behind Jay, placing your feet onto the provided foot rests. Unsure of what to do with your hands, you rest them lightly on Jay’s shoulders. 

Jay revs the engine and a reflex kicks in, causing you to hug Jay from the back, hanging on for your dear life. Your heart beat rings in your ears, getting faster and faster by the second. You don’t know if it’s because of the fear you just felt or how close you were to Jay right now.

“That’s it, hold onto me like that. Are you ready, ___?” Jay asks. You close your eyes tightly, hug him even more tightly and shout out “Yes!”

He pulls down the window of his helmet and kicks off the ground. 

And you’re off. 

The wind blows in your hair, and the salty scent of the sea hits you again. You cautiously open your eyes to see the magnificent ocean. Jay begins to speed up as there is very little traffic at this time of the day.

“Oh,” you think to yourself, “so this is why he woke me up this early.”

As time goes by, you begin to feel more confident. You stretch out your arms and let out a loud cry of exhilaration.

“Woohoo!”

It was as if you were as light as a feather. You were on top of the world. With Jay, it felt like you could do anything.

Jay chuckles at your excitement and takes it as a cue to go even faster.

The day goes by quickly as Jay takes you to all of his favourite places at (the location you chose). You both learn a lot about each other with each pit stop Jay makes. You learn that Jay absolutely loathes mint chocolate ice cream and that he’s actually the resort owner’s son. 

You begin to feel sad that the day is going by so quickly and wish you could spend your whole lifetime with this handsome, funny, charming man that you just met.

As sunset approached, the two of you sat on the sandy shores of the beach, admiring the blue waves crashing down and drifting back. 

You rest your head on Jay’s shoulder. The salty aroma of his hair mixes with the natural scent of the ocean. You love how he makes you feel at ease. 

He looks down at you, a content smile plastered across his face and a loving look in his eyes.

“Did you enjoy today?”

“Of course” You reply. 

The both of you sit in silence for the next few minutes, basking in each other’s presence.

You glance up at him just to see him already gawking at you. His eyes ever-so-slowly trail down your face to your lips. You smirk, knowing where this is going. Leaning in, you stop just before your lips meet his. Your breaths mingle with each other, anticipation building inside you like a pressure cooker.

Jay whinges at your teasing, causing you to chuckle.

Putting him out of his misery (and yours!), you plant your lips onto his soft, pillowy ones. The two of you share an intimate, gentle kiss with the pink and purple sunset sky as your backdrop. 

You couldn’t have asked for a more perfect getaway.

[captainsimagines]

To Topple A Giant || Chapter Seven

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

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

Part 7 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. This is purely fanfiction.

Warnings in this Chapter: abusive parental relationship; strong language; canon-level violence (explosions); mentions of alcohol poisoning; mention of Infinity War/Endgame deaths; perceived domestic partner abuse (no such thing actually happens!); concussions and minor injuries; mentions of arranged marriages; mentions of drug smuggling and human smuggling; lying; ANGST!

Word Count: 14,100+

A/N: So close to the finish line...

~

Spain, 2024, 5:07 pm.

    “Get the damn ice cream, Peter. I’m not holding you back.”

The kid sped down the sidewalk as fast as his feet would let him, skips in his steps and ignoring the chastising yells from Bucky. 

“You’re letting him have sugar?” Bucky whines, sluggish in his own steps. The Spanish summer sun was blaring, burning your forehead and building the same cold craving in your throat. It was just the three of you, carefree but melting, happy but annoyed with the constant proximity of each other. The villa (if you could call it that, it was more of a cottage) was listed as having three rooms - not the two you were stuck with. Bucky was at the last inch of self-control, begging you to switch with him - if only for one night - because ‘the kid fuckin’ talks in his sleep, doll! One more night and I might smother him.’

It was Bucky’s idea to take a little vacation. A year after the blip and only a few months after Peter’s world was turned upside down, a vacation seemed like the best choice. Preferably somewhere that was quiet and somewhat rural - somewhere you guys won’t be easily recognized. 

So the three of you packed and flew across the pond. In all honesty, you hadn’t even told the rest of the team where you were going besides Wanda. One day you were greeting them in the common room and preparing lunch, the other you were throwing your suitcase in one of the two vacant rooms in this little Spanish cottage. The three of you were truly off the map in terms of late notice. 

“Let the kid live. He’s having a mid-life crisis at eighteen.”

“I’ve had more mid-life crisis’s than his age combined. He’s not special.” The pointed look on your face had Bucky sighing in small defeat. “Okay, okay.”

These past two weeks in shared solitude, even if this trip was supposed to be relaxing, was beginning to melt into a tiresome routine. Well, just nights. The days were mild at best. And to make matters worse, you and Bucky had been dodging the team’s calls, messages that you left for voicemail. Bucky had clicked ‘end call’ more times than he could count and his excuse was always, ‘ the kid doesn’t want to leave, doll.’ Even annoyed with Peter, Bucky wanted only the best. 

It was only a matter of time until your phones were tracked and you were forced to come home. Everyone probably knew where you were anyway - you weren’t exactly hiding. But since you already got a good two weeks in, you figured they had taken some sympathy. 

“Think we can get him to visit a museum today or something?”

Bucky shrugged, lining up at the coffee stand near the ice cream cart. “Saw him checking out banana bread recipes last night. Seems more like a baking day.”

You could go for some banana bread. Ordering two iced coffees and making more miscellaneous small talk while waiting for Peter to order, you studied the streets of Spain. The country had suffered greatly when, cruelly, more than half their population disappeared. Left in proper ruins, no one believed it would ever recover. But then there was an election, a change in the structural government, and it just… did. They rebuilt themselves better than any country had, in your opinion. 

It was a rather calm day with minimal people out and about. It was exactly what you guys deserved after every mission - in your case, after a long month of PR recovery after that bar fight alongside Sam. 

“You bake, Barnes?”

He smiled fully, “Any chance I get.”

“You guys want anything?” Peter yelled out, bouncing lightly on his heels as he waited. You waved him off. “You sure? It’s pretty cheap for summer prices!”

After rejecting Peter’s dozen ice cream questions and offers, the three of you decided the heat was a little too much to bear, even with sunscreen. Peter spoke most of the way. Something about that banana bread.

Bucky, being the baker, helped him choose the best recipe of the four Peter had bookmarked and soon the kitchen was only half dirty with eggs and mashed bananas.

“What do you mean a cup of baking soda, kid? Use your eyes,” Bucky yelled in second hand embarrassment. “I don’t think a cup of baking soda goes in anything.”

“Read right here, dude,” Peter poked at his tablet. “A cuuuu... okay. Okay, I see what I read wrong.”

“You two better be making me some good ass banana bread today. I don’t want to throw up!” You had opted to let the two men have their fun in the kitchen. You tried to bake, but you were more of a cook than anything else.

“You could be reading out the directions.”

“I could do a lot of things,” you respond with the emphasis on “could”.

The doorbell interrupted your no-so-real argument. Peter snickered, “You could get the door.”

With a displeased grunt and a straightened middle finger to the kid, you opened the door to find two people who were definitely not invited. Clint, with this magical and massive smile on his face and Steve, with his eyebrow cocked and arms crossed.

“Oh, would you look at that. Guests! Welcome to our humble abode!”

“Now, how and why?” Bucky groaned. But his actions contradict his words as he went to give Steve a hug, covered in flour and all.

“Hey, Clint,” you mumbled, purposely ignoring the super soldier side-eyeing you. “Care to tell us what you’re doing here?

Clint returned your warm smile, “See, Cap? They’re safe. Can we go now?”

Steve rolled his eyes, arms crossed over his chest in a rather demanding way. “We’re here to take them home, Clint.”

Bucky scoffs.

“Eh, you might be. But I’m here to soak up some of this Spanish sun.” A low grunt sounded in the back of Clint’s throat as he spoke. He was already making his way to pick at the mashed ingredients. 

“You heard the man, pal,” Bucky slaps Steve’s shoulder, leaving him at the door as well. Awkwardly left alone, you blow a small raspberry and step aside to let Steve in. Bucky continues, “We’re here to soak up some sun. And I’m not done soakin’.”

With great protest, Steve maneuvers Bucky away from the kitchen and into the hallway beside the master bedroom. With both super soldiers out of the way, you finally go to help Peter with mixing. “Why did he come, really?”

Clint shrugs, arms deep inside your cabinets and collecting whatever desserts you had pre-packaged. “Honestly? I think he missed you guys.”

“All this drama because he misses Bucky? He could have just shown up declaring truce and had a nice little vacation,” you mumbled, glaring at Steve from behind. 

“Think he felt like he needed an excuse to even show up. But they really are asking for you guys back home. Threatened to arrest your ass.”

“Lucky me.”

You could make out snippets of their tiny argument up ahead. 

‘You could have called.’

‘You haven’t been answering the phone, Buck.’

‘I’ve been relaxing.’

A heavy sigh. 

‘I just thought we told each other everything.’

‘Believe it or not, Steve… but I’ve got more friends now. Isn’t that what you wanted? I’m not trying to ignore you, I - I just needed to help another friend out this time.’

Peter, with great care, washes his hands and makes sure there aren't any random mashes of banana on his clothing before he side-steps you and Clint to interrupt the very ‘private’ conversation between the super soldiers. “Hey, Mr. Steve- Cap, hey.”

Steve immediately lets his hard gaze falter. “Hey, kid. You doin’ good?”

Peter nods in response. 

“He’s doing great! Much needed vacation that still isn’t over.”

“Buck.”

Inserting yourself may not have been the best option. “Give it up, Rogers. We’re on vacation. And until the kid says he’s ready to go home, we go home.”

Peter fumbles, “Oh, please don’t put me on the spot like that. I’m not good with confrontation.”

Bucky quickly answers before Steve can, “It’s not confrontation, Peter. We love being out here and if it’s helping your mental health, we’re not going to take that away from you.”

Steve blinks and his expression looks like one of hurt. “You think I wanna do that? The literal president has been asking for your location. You’re not allowed to leave the country.”

You shrug, “Well, no one told me that.”

“Buck, you were just granted immunity three months ago. And you go and drop off the face of the earth?”

“I’m literally in Spain.”

Steve blinks again. He really can’t believe he’s got to deal with two people with similar personalities. “Your point?”

“On Earth…?”

Clint decides to make his presence known. He has even inserted the poured batter into the glass tray for you guys. “Why don’t we just stay with ‘em, Cap? God knows you need a vacation, too.”

“We have two rooms. You’d be bunking on the floor,” you say, pointing to random areas on the floor.

Clint waves his hand in the air, “Not the worst place I’ve slept in.”

“I’m being hounded day and night to bring you three home.” Steve looks about ready to burst into tears of frustration.

“Turn off your phone?”

Steve whips his head and stomps to close the few feet of distance between the two of you. “You really think it’s that easy? You really think I wasn’t worried when my two best friends just disappeared one night and didn’t tell me?”

Two.

Best. 

Friends. 

Before you could even comment, Bucky puts on the dramatics.  “We ran away together, Stevie. We meant to tell you.”

Steve takes a moment, just staring at the ceiling and piecing together his thoughts. “Joke all you want, Buck. I’m bringing you home.”

“Ste-”

“No!” He’s stomping back to the front door now. “I’ve had enough! I can’t stand not knowing where you guys are all day when bad things keep happening in this world. Just… just come home.”

All is quiet besides the quiet munching of Clint and his rogue cookie. Steve’s face did this thing when he was at war with himself, anxiety crawling up his arms or panic weighing his empty stomach down. His face drained color and that perfect renaissance oil lost its blush, blended paint that turned a murky gray. A masterpiece lost in storage.

“I can take the couch,” you whisper, arms erupting in goosebumps. “You guys can stay the night and we’ll go home tomorrow, okay? Or somewhere pre-approved, I guess.”

Bucky didn’t argue. Neither did Peter. 

Steve's imaginary painter adds the softest pink back to Steve’s cheeks as you compile a mess of blankets and pillows for him.

Present Day, 2025, 7:15 am

     There’s a warmth near you as you begin to lazily shuffle against the sheets, heavy on your chest but comfortable all in all. 

There are no worries, no sudden bursts of Avenger business, no fights needing to be fought. Simply Steve warm against you with sunlight draping over his bare and freckled shoulders. 

The serum enhanced for the sole purpose of strength and survival. And sure, it healed the body quicker than the average human body could naturally, but the one thing it couldn’t do was strip personality. 

Steve had freckles splattered along his broad shoulders and down to in between his shoulder blades, light in color and all similar in size. Something a lot of people hated about themselves and tried to cover up while others tried to mimic. The serum was supposed to heal damaged skin, sunburnt areas, birthmarks, and even moles - at least, that’s what the official 1943 report had claimed. 

But over the years, Steve had continued to age and grow into his new body. And while he couldn’t get dangerously sick anymore, anything unknown could still occur. No one had the same serum as Steve and last Tony had heard, Peggy had spilled the last remnants of Steve’s original DNA (blood they took before the procedure) in the Hudson. Bucky seemed to be experiencing the same natural changes as well. 

It had been proven that neither Steve nor Bucky could carry or transmit diseases, experience abnormal cell production, nor could they develop a lifelong ailment without severe reason. 

So imagine everyone’s surprise when Clint called one morning while deep in a routine mission (somewhere in Africa, you really don’t remember) to relay the news that, ‘you guys aren’t gonna fucking believe this - yeah Rogers, I’m telling them the hilarious news right now - Steve’s appendix just up and exploded last night - hey! He just stole - hold on. Give me back my hearing aid, you abelist fuck!’. 

Steve had stretch marks on his back from the procedure, his elbow still hurt from time to time after he had snapped it a year ago, and the white scar above his right hip reminded him that even super soldiers are not exempt from the wonders of the appendix. 

His breathing was slow and his eyelids flickered. Seemed he was enjoying his first deep sleep in a while. You craned your neck to try and read the cable box across the room, slightly making out a seven in the front before you gave up. You were due for your annual eye appointment, anyway. 

Steve did have perfect eyesight though, so damn him.

You shrugged the sheets from your arms. He was on his stomach, cheek planted on your chest and right foot dangling off the side of the bed. His left arm was draped over your middle and his right was tucked inside a pillowcase. His hair draped over his forehead and some of it was still tucked behind his ears. 

Careful to not wake him, you gently traced the ridge of his nose with your index finger, resting it on the tip that always turned bright pink regardless of mood. Once at the end, you went back up to trace it again. 

“Beak,” you whispered more to yourself, and you bit your lip to suppress the overwhelming urge to giggle. 

Steve was here, next to and near you, and he was so warm. 

You could have stayed in bed for hours, sleeping and cuddling and fucking, and you would bet your left kidney that Steve wanted that too. It was impossible to question it, it had to be, because Steve was too genuine. You had met hundreds of men in your life: some the literal devil, some cowards, some reserved, and rarely, some genuine at heart. Steve fit some category that didn’t even exist. 

You wanted to love him and hate him. You wanted to make love and fuck him. You wanted to kiss him and annoy him. He checked a box that didn’t exist but that you would just have to reserve for him. The annoying little shit who could lift Thor’s hammer. 

The door almost ripped off its hinges by the brute force of someone’s leg. You didn’t even fully register being crushed by Steve until his elbow stabbed you right in the gut. 

“Rogers!” you groaned in pain and half trying to reach for your pistol on the bedside table. 

There was a collective gasp of surprise (and maybe terror) from the people that just broke down your door. After yesterday’s unplanned run-in with Ramirez, no doubt this was called-for.

“Oh, hell…” Sam grumbled, lowering his gun the second he realized two of his friends were sharing one bed. “Lemme guess, the other bed’s mattress was too firm but this one’s just right.”

Bucky stood behind him, a knowing smirk plastered on his smug face. He looked between you and Steve, ignoring the way Scott was practically pulling his shoulder down in pure fits of laughter. Didn’t take much for Scott to tip himself over and almost drag Bucky down with him. 

“Couldn’t you knock?” Steve nearly yelled, body still trying to shield yours even though you were fully dressed. You were struggling to push him away in pure embarrassment, but he seemed intent with this form of protection. 

“You weren’t answering your phone! We changed our check-in times to seven instead of eight, remember?”

Steve, ever the gentleman, brought the sheets up higher for you and finally lifted himself out of bed. 

And Bucky, ever the gentleman who has been spending way too much time with Clint, nodded his head toward you. “You two fuck?”

Mouth dropping in humiliation, you pulled the sheets up over your head and screamed into the temporary cover. Steve sputtered over whatever explanation he was thinking of pulling out of his ass. 

“You two fucked,” Bucky smugly confirmed. 

Steve pulled on the nearest shirt and went to kick Scott, who was ‘criss-cross apple-sauced’ on the floor and laughing way too loudly. “Is it really any of your business?”

“Man, that’s an answer!” Sam was about to fall into the same fit as Scott. 

Annoyed, and fueled by that annoyance, you ripped the sheets off and marched for the bathroom. “You really want to know, you nosy little fucks? We did fuck and he made me come three times. Ask him how, I’m sure he’ll teach you a thing or two, no matter how embarrassed he may seem right now.”

You left him alone. You literally just exposed him and you left him alone with the wolves. 

All was quiet until Sam blew a small raspberry. “Three times?”

     Bucky didn’t need to speak to show he was about to tease the hell out of you. He simply sipped his coffee until he emptied it, and then refilled it. You couldn’t even finish a single mug yet because you were waiting to break the tension. 

Looking around the hotel bar because he still valued your privacy, Bucky made sure to keep his voice low. “Three times?”

Half wanting to slap the smirk off his face and the other half wanting to announce Steve’s naughty accomplishment, you settled for pouring more coffee into your mug. 

“Don’t you dare hold what I said against me, I literally had just woken up.”

“Mm, yeah. I remember how you literally moaned Thor’s name when you were startled awake from a nap in the living room.”

“Bucky!” you yelled, turning your shoulders inwards when you received a few odd looks from other early risers. Well, some were early risers. The person closest to the door was an agent, as was the other eating breakfast at the bar. “You promised you would never mention that again!”

He shook his head with amusement, “I can’t believe you swore me to secrecy when Loki basically told everyone.”

“He-!” Choking on your own spit, you slid lower into your booth. “That mischievous, conniving, son of a bitch.”

“In all honesty, I think that was his way of flirting with you.”

“Telling everyone I had a wet dream about his brother?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t be the first.”

You smirked, “Oh, trust me. I know.”

Bucky squinted, guilty in his spoken words. “All I’m saying is, it’s nice that you didn’t just write Steve off with us, as if nothing happened.”

It made your heart swell that even in a moment with you, Bucky would still always protect Steve. 

“I would never. We actually talked last night and he really apologized.”

“Really?” His eyes were hopeful. 

“He did. And as cliche as it sounds, one thing led to another.”

You realized your earlier words were contradictory when Bucky sighed sadly, “This better not have been a one time thing. I’ll strangle you both.”

You scoffed and finally took a piece of that blueberry muffin on your plate. “Screw you, Barnes. It’s Steve we’re talking about. I’d give him the world if I could.”

That made Bucky blush. “God, I’m stupidly happy for him. I always said he’d need to find a dame who had as big of a mouth as he does.”

Rolling your eyes, you offered him some of that muffin. He gladly broke off a piece. “Don’t go marrying us off just yet.”

“Doll, he almost imploded when we discovered you slept together. Teasing him about proposing might just kill him.”

You laughed at that. Although Steve had admitted he regretted the time you lost, there wasn’t any chance he would push you any further. He was probably comfortable with taking things slow, no matter the history. You had that in common. 

“Seems we’re all just gonna have to make sure we don’t cause his demise.”

Smiling as he chewed, Bucky played with your feet under the table. Safe moments like these always occurred before a mission, no matter how simple or heavy they were. And like people love to say, you never fought with each other before. Just in case. 

Going to bed angry was another thing entirely. That, the whole team was proficient in. 

“You ready for tonight?”

Yesterday had definitely turned you against the very concept of family reunions, what with the small ache between your shoulders. You were angry with Seda, with Ernesto, disappointed with Ramirez, and neutral toward your sister. 

God, your sister. This would be the first time since you left Mexico for school and SHIELD that you would be seeing her, as well as your other siblings. Jackeline was perhaps the only sibling you had some real memories with. Everyone else was already deep in the business or far away from the chaos. The team only knew of two other siblings who rsvp’d. The others: radio silence. 

“Part of me just wants a normal family wedding. I’m kinda hoping we can just end it all tonight.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” Bucky chuckled, finishing off your muffin for you. “You’ll get some closure soon enough.”

There was no such thing as closure. Just less of a constant sting. 

“Bucky,” you spoke seriously now. “My father made Steve sign something yesterday.”

“He told us at the debrief yesterday.”

“When did you have a debrief?”

Bucky scooted in his booth, quickly explaining. “Uh well, it wasn’t so much of a debrief as it was a simple overview. Just a heads up.”

You tilted your head, somewhat unconvinced. “Uh-huh… but we could void it, right? He had a fucking notary there and everything.”

“We can declare it void, yeah Y/N,” he grabbed your hand over the table. “He won’t get tangled in this.”

With a heavy sigh, you gripped Bucky’s hand tighter. “I’m really glad you guys are gonna help us.”

He returned your smile. “Anything for family.”

Family. 

After all these years of self-hatred and despising your own blood, you blinded yourself of the simple truth that you already had a real family. Whether you were accepted after Sokovia, or after you helped Steve escape with Bucky, or after those long five years, you were accepted. And you accepted them right back. 

    The briefing goes as expected. Didn’t seem like anyone was going to live down the now obvious fact that you and Steve had slept together after years of unnoticed pining. You simply took the teasing in stride, better than Steve even, who stuffed his face full of chips in embarrassment.

The plan was simple but ever-evolving. The three of them will hang back: Bucky at the hotel, Scott and Sam at the nearby base with Torres. The base was fifteen minutes from the estate, hidden behind those same pine trees but the perfect cover - it was a nearby diner. Steve will still take the shield, FRIDAY was installed on your personal phones, and any weapons you attached to your person were specifically made to deter metal detectors. Once in, it was mingle, mingle, mingle.

There were going to be a thousand questions to answer: What in the world is Captain America doing here? Is he here to cause trouble? Are you two seriously dating? So, Captain America being one of us means holding Thor’s hammer was a myth, aye?

Then you would move on to the more important guests. Jackeline’s greeting would be more of a reunion. But flying under and over the radar had to walk the same line - you needed to mix in with the crowd and make sure they see you participating, but then escape for a little while to continue the mission.

Once in, the task was to electronically and physically retrieve everything Scott didn’t have time to yesterday, plus the new information Ernesto got for today and tomorrow. His latest emails, list of contacts, checks, birth certificates, video evidence.

“Do we all know our duties?”

You wanted to wrap up Steve’s commanding voice and keep it a special secret, a secret that was yours and the team’s to share.

“We got it, Cap. For the tenth time this week - you two okay?”

Sam was rewarded with a slanted smile. “Everytime you ask me that, I’ll lie.”

He nods, “At least you admit it. You’re not alone in this.”

“For years,” you continued, “It’s been that way. I guess I’m both ready for it to end and not. I want them behind bars. I don’t want the repercussions.”

“Makes sense,” Bucky agrees. “At least part of the fight will be over.”

Beside you, Steve clenches his jaw. “We’re always fighting.”

Bucky grins at him, “Yeah.” There’s a sparkle in his eye as he leans forward to squeeze Steve’s thigh. “At least it’s not with each other anymore.”

     They weren’t lying when they said vibranium was lightweight. Felt different from nano-tech and was an obvious change from your regular body suit. You felt protected and stylish. Good, because even though you weren’t obligated to impress those vultures, there were still a few cousins and extended family members you wanted compliments from. And?

The black turtleneck was warmer than you expected and didn’t strangle you. You were a bundle of velvet bliss right now. The cuffs were a golden brown, completely made from vibranium. Modeling in the mirror, you whispered a few ‘pew-pew’s as you blocked pretend bullets. C’mon, golden bracelets? You were basically Wonder Woman. 

The tights were your own, thin and black and you could still see there were faint bruises on your knees from training. Once all that was situated, you pulled on the long skirt and tucked in the bottom of your shirt, glad the way the high-waisted design sucked everything in. The skirt was the same golden brown as the cuffs, shorter in the front and wavy as it draped down the back, barely reaching your ankles. You tied the skirt’s belt in a tight bow and pulled on the black boots Shuri had also sent you. The heel was thick and short, and the boot was pretty tight around the top of your ankle. 

Time was ticking on that well-deserved goody basket you were meaning to send to the royal siblings. 

Hoop earrings, three rings dressing your left hand, a simple golden necklace - now you need to do your hair and make-up. 

Steve was just patiently waiting for his turn in the bathroom, bless his heart. 

     “Scott said the files are in his personal belongings. We suspect he’s planning to smuggle over fifty people tomorrow. Their records should be hidden away in those belongings, too.” 

Sam always kept a leveled head in dire situations like these. He was rational and helpful, always waited until the job was done and everyone was safe before he had a drink or a cry. It was safest, perhaps the most fair thing the Avengers could do for the public after destroying half the cities they fought in. The media didn’t need to know about the late-night fights, alcohol poisoning, or frequent therapy sessions. Your coping methods were all different - Steve has no doubt Sam will immediately pack an overnight bag and Bucky to visit his sister and nephews once the wedding concluded. 

Steve? Well, Steve was surprisingly calm, all things considered. 

“You get any hits yet? Anything from Ramirez that could help us find those people sooner?”

Sam sighs sadly, shaking his head. “It’s looking like we’re heading into a full-on fight.”

That’s not what Steve wanted to hear. A ‘full-on’ fight almost always had accidents, misfires, innocent casualties, and a few cuts and scrapes to add to his own personal collection. 

“Sam,” Steve puts down the files in his hand and shuts off his monitor to signal he’s done researching for the night. “I really don’t know how to thank you.”

“You know,” Sam smiles at him, “I’m gettin’ real tired hearin’ you say that.”

Steve huffs out a laugh. Sam gently exhales - Steve can feel it. 

“You two really are the same.” Sam points at Steve and to the bathroom door. “Always apologizing for shit you can’t control.”

Steve looks down to his feet, a blush in his pale cheeks. After failing to clip his cufflinks on his own, he holds his arms out to Sam who happily clips them for him. 

“Is it real?”

Steve pauses. He doesn’t really need to think about it because he knows. He’s known for a while even if he was on autopilot. The pause only serves to help him catch his breath from the happy prickle that crawls up his spine. “As real as second chances go.”

Sam laughs and claps his shoulder, “I get it. We seem to get a hell of a lotta those.”

      Now that the mission was truly kicking into gear, fucking full speed ahead, Steve had no other choice but to pull shreds of Captain America from that metaphorical attic of his. Took everything in him to revert back, never fully, and each time would be different from the last. Sometimes it was mentally draining being responsible for a whole team and creating the plans, other times he regretfully felt like a colonizer, an intruder who followed orders from the top and was forced to execute them. This time around, he was stepping into uncharted territory, but still familiar, and he had a million roles to mime. 

“Steeeve.”

His smile was instant and he gravitated to your voice. “Hmm?”

“So, I have an idea for a hairstyle,” you reply, throwing open the bathroom door with a brush in one hand and the other holding the top layers of your hair up. “I got enough hair for it.”

“Tell me about it. It gets in the way of everything.”

“Haha.” You rolled your eyes, still trying to shovel more hair higher. “I curled it, so all I gotta do is tug this upper half up into a ponytail while the rest stays down. But can you help? My shoulders still hurt and I haven’t taken my advil yet.”

Steve shuffles back into the room to grab you two pills before he replaces his hands with yours. “So, just lift it up?”

You hum confirmation, watching Steve in the mirror as he pulled your thick curls higher, snapped the hair tie between his teeth, and tied it all. He pulled the strands outward so the high curls still fell around your face. The hairstyle would have been easier with extensions (for a much fuller look) but if you had to throw your body around these next two days, you’d rather save yourself the embarrassment of having them pulled off. 

“Thank you,” you blush. These moments were so intimate, so sweet, just you and Steve. “You need any help?”

Steve looks down at himself. He had already tied his own tie. He could style his own hair and comb his beard. “I think I’m good. Forgot to pack cologne, though.”

“I’ve got some perfume in my suitcase. There should be one in there that isn’t too flowery.”

Steve rolls his eyes and turns to leave. “Not really a problem, doll.”

Pulling on his suit jacket and reaching for your suitcase to set it on the bed, he miscalculated the balance he was so obviously lacking. Instead of toppling head first himself, he fumbles your suitcase and spills its contents on your bed. He stills for a second, looking to the closed bathroom door to see if you popped your head through to ask what the hell that sound was. But it remained closed, and Steve silently groaned because of his clumsiness. 

He tries his best to roll the clothing items back in, cursing whenever he would accidentally squeeze a perfume bottle you had hidden in there. He counted three. The one he picks smells like roses.

Amongst the ruins he finds your passport, multiple IDs, and two pairs of sunglasses. He chuckles to himself and thinks, we’ve been here for four days and she hasn’t worn these once.

A torn piece of paper stood out from the pile, folded neatly in its own envelope but still damaged. 

     CLINT

Curious, Steve opens the envelope, wholeheartedly expecting to find the written contents from the archer himself, but pauses when he reads the simple sentence, in your handwriting. 

‘After careful deliberation, I have come to the conclusion that I want you to have all my video games.’

If Steve didn’t know any better, and judging by the multiple other letters peeking through the torn tape from the corner of your suitcase, it sounded like a goodbye letter.

“What’s taking so long?”

Startled, Steve shoves the letter under the pile of clothes. “Uh, my clumsy ass spilled your clothes everywhere so I’m being good and fixing everything.”

“...annoying.”

Still, you stayed inside the bathroom.

He glanced back just to make sure. And he knew he shouldn’t be snooping, the guilt was already eating away at him, but he now noticed the lump under the torn tape and another envelope poking through. 

They were all signed for different people. Bucky, Wanda, Peter, Rhodey - 

The devil on his shoulder drowned the cries of the angel. 

Opening his, he prays for his quick reading skills to aid him before you realized what he was doing.       

Steve, 

     Believe when I say that I thought I would put a bullet in my father before he could. Whoops…

I don’t really know why I’m writing these letters besides the thrill of morbidity for my untimely death or because I’m an amateur writer on the side. I never know what to say to you, anyway. Whether it’s in person or on paper. I’ve got a hundred drawn-up speeches in my head I almost say to you. But they don’t come out when I want them to and it seems a bit much to write out the words to several imaginary crumpled pieces of paper. 

This will have to do. 

Steve, I know for a fact, deep in whatever soul I have left, that you are a good man. 

When the world fell apart, I held on to you. I don’t know why. Natasha bugged me about it, sent me those signature smirks of hers whenever we did anything remotely weird. She believed something was going on between us and I would get so angry with her because it was like she saw something I couldn’t. And I wanted to see it. Wrap it up for myself and live in the softness.

You slept by my side when I would ask, you let me look through your private sketchbook to help ease my mind, and you would jump at every chance to shield me from danger. Even when you know I can take care of myself. I don't know how many times I have to remind you. 

I don’t understand why you shut me out after we brought our friends back. And at the time, it hurt like hell. I literally wanted to kill you and then myself. It made no sense, it still doesn’t. I won’t lie and say it still surprises me or that it no longer hurts. ‘Cause I’m numb to it now and the pain is more of a dull ache. 

But I guess you had your reasons, no matter how hurtful, how ridiculous, no matter how stupid. 

Fuck, why didn’t you get some of that life Tony had always wanted for you? The question eats me alive. Maybe you did move on, maybe you would miss us too much, I truly don’t know. When you confessed to wanting some form of that life when we rescued Wanda, it just confused me more.

Then my father basically declared war and you cut me out. I can’t help but think you stayed behind to help me finish this, what with that righteous streak of yours, but if it is the case, then I am so sorry. 

You deserve to live, Steve. 

Guess what I really want to close with is this: find that life you always wanted. Buy a boat, or a cabin in the secluded woods and become a lumberjack, travel, open your own art museum - hell, erase all traces of your identity and sell painted landscapes for a living. 

In any form you find it, just try. You know I’m always rooting for you, and I’m always by your side. No matter how annoying and smart-mouthed you may be. 

There’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be than here, there, and everywhere with you. 

With as much love in me, 

    The swirl of your name leaves him disoriented, and slightly paralyzed. Steve licks the envelope closed.    

     Steve puts the very existence and contents of your letter to the back of his mind for the time being. He doesn’t have time to dwell on it, no time to dissect it word for word. He’ll focus on it later. He still doesn’t know what reaction he should be experiencing. The letter was unexpected, yes, but it’s the matter of you writing a goodbye letter - as if you weren’t going to make it out of here alive. And that about saws Steve in two. 

Steve thinks the elevator comes too fast and wonders what he could do to stop time. The mics on your neck generate enough noise for you to hear the static on the other end. No one is currently online, and Steve cherishes the little moments he’s getting before having to transition into ‘Captain America’ mode. 

There wasn’t much time today to truly bask in the afterglow. The moment the elevator opens Steve literally drags you inside and captures your lips in a rather chaste kiss. It surprises you momentarily but you’re responding, and it’s fluid and familiar. The kiss is brief, but it feels as if your years mold into this single act, and Steve’s smiling wider than he has today when the first thing you say as you part is that maybe you chose the wrong shade of lipstick because it looks too damn dark on his lips.

The elevator reaches the ground floor and he looks over at you one last time in the privacy you’re afforded. He’s got that good ache in his chest again and it’s both calming and a little bittersweet, because staring at you is like staring at the sun - it hurts to look at for a long time but oh, so tempting. 

   The lawn was separated into two halves with only one fully decorated and the other still under a tarp, hidden because it was mid-construction and to not spoil the surprise. Over to the side, just left of the large lake, there was an extra tarp the workers were manning in case the clouds in the sky decided to cry. 

Jackeline had chosen violet as her main color scheme, with golden hues stitched alongside. The flowers, soft lights, marble floor, and desserts were all violet; the curtains and tarps, plates and glasses, flowers on the wall, and Jackeline’s rehearsal dress were all gold. Ernesto must have spent over a million dollars in the decorations alone. 

Everyone donned their best designers and since only family was in attendance today, the little amount of people were easily outdone one right after the other. In total, there were fifteen guests, and that included you and Steve: Ernesto, Seda, the groom’s father, Jackeline’s mother, two of your half-brothers, three aunts (sister’s of Ernesto), two cousins, the maid of honor, and Marcus White. 

They have already fawned over Steve, some with a major guard up as expected, but as Ernesto explains the specifics, everyone becomes more pleased than weary. ‘It was just too good to be true that the Avengers were all good’, someone announces. Steve grips your hand just a little tighter. 

The mere absence of Ramirez was enough of an answer: he really was going to be eliminated.

Across from your private corner, cheers and claps sound as the happy couple finally emerges. Even your father leaves mid-conversation to go greet her. 

She’s a fifties masterpiece. Her dark hair cascades in uneven but gentle layers, framing her face and she’s both glossy and matte. Her skin is darker and her eyebrows are fuller, widow’ peak and strong jaw, thin neck and perfectly rounded shoulders. She has a painted blush on her high cheekbones, dark eyeshadow and a faint cat eye, and the reddest, fullest lips that are already spitting wit as she greets her more serious guests. Her voice is high but steady and she’s so obviously the center of attention, she’s the literal bride, but you bet she could take over the room even if she wasn’t. Her fiancé, surprisingly enough, trails behind her as if he too is in a trance, greeting the same guests and attempting to match her enthusiasm. She’s making herself known, and she’s succeeding.

It isn’t until she locks her sight on you that Steve finally mumbles a quiet ‘woah’ underneath a shaky breath and you can’t blame him, dear god you can’t, because seeing her for the first time in six years is eating away at you. She’s nineteen, young and sweet, and still trapped in the world you were planning to destroy.   

Her first reaction is to run into your arms and hold you tightly, the force swinging you from side to side. Her giggles are contagious and you find yourself reacting similarly, grip tightening as she begins to ramble about how much she missed you and how proud she is that you have saved the world ten times over. The statement is overwhelming, but you find yourself nodding along in place of anything verbal.

Steve is patient as he witnesses this family reunion, standing at your side with respect and a tint of scarlet staining his cheeks. Finally, Jackeline turns to greet him and for a scary second, Steve sees Peggy.

“No way!” She keeps her voice low. “I could have sworn my bit-... uh, my bunch of tias were lying about you really being here.”

Steve shakes the fifties image from his head. The resemblance, even if Jackeline has more slanted eyes and a larger forehead, is uncanny. “Thank you so much for inviting us. The ride up was a bitch but we made the most of it.”

Jackeline stutters over her own laugh. “Oh.” She looks to you with a wide grin. “Oh, he’s a keeper.”

“Thought so myself,” you grin back. “You should hear him swear during a football game.”

“All men turn into animals when their teams don’t live up to expectations.”

Her accent is thicker than yours. Living in New York for over 10 years definitely helped smooth over some dialect and create your own voice. But Jackeline’s, considering she had never lived outside of Mexico, was thick and silky and resembled a place you no longer called home.

She pulls the man behind her forward, effectively interrupting and ending the conversation he was having with one of your cousins. “This is Julian. Julian, this is my one and only sister and her boyfriend!”

Julian, bless his heart, holds out a slightly shaking hand for you to shake. You do so, and try to convey calmness through it. When you watch his glance fall to Steve and feel his hand start to shake yours more rapidly, you can’t help but stifle a laugh.

“It’s an honor!” Julian finally says, voice deep and wracked with some nerves. He shakes Steve’s hand when he gets the chance. “Captain.”

“Please,” Jackeline rolls her eyes. “He’s just like us! You should be swooning over my sister, who is probably going to be the one to kill you if you ever hurt me.”

Julian blinks. His eyes go from Steve to you, contemplating his next move without wanting to seem rude. He nods in your direction. “I don’t doubt you would. Excuse me if I came off as rude. I’m just starstruck by this one here, is all.”

His accent matches Jackeline’s.

Steve waves his hand through the air. “You are not the first tonight, son.”

Sometimes you forget that Steve is an old man. Biologically, he’s in his mid-thirties. Ever changing and growing old as normal, but his soul is old. From a different time and out of it. The mere nickname he just gave Julian, no doubt because of his young age, leaves you averting your eyes and turning away to smile up at one of the many golden chandeliers.

“I really hope you enjoy tonight. The party may seem small right now, but trust me, half of Mexico will be dancing with us tomorrow night.” Jackeline bounces in place, hand intertwining with Julian’s, and she leans in to speak more clearly with you. “Meet me later? We have so much to catch up on.”

Agreeing, you watch the happy couple leave to converse with the few other guests.

Steve turns toward you, eyes squinted in amusement. “Is she really cheating on him with a man of the cloth?”

You can’t help the involuntary snort that leaves your nose. “The photos were watermarked, right? Time stamped? Maybe they’re old.”

Steve huffs a laugh and grabs two champagne glasses as the tray flies by him. “She’s got a way about her. Reminds me of a dame from this book I read a while back.”

Sipping your drink, you ponder. “What book?”

“The one where the dude gets shot at the end.”

“Oh, you mean every book from the 20th century?”

Steve laughs, “That twenties one!”

Mouth dropping, you push at his chest and turn to walk away. “You did not just compare her to Daisy from The Great Gatsby!”

Steve follows. “That’s the one! Honest! She has this way about her!”

    It’s not long after a few dances and photographs that you’re all seated for the actual dinner. There are three long tables, two parallel to each other and the main one perpendicular. You don’t know if it’s a power move or whatever, but your name cards are placed on one of the parallel tables. But it doesn’t bother you much since you have a front view of Seda and your father. 

Dinner is a six-course meal. Not that you assumed any different - Ernesto really went all out for his youngest child (that you know of). Your mics are picking up conversations left and right so you’re actually able to enjoy the meal. Salad, soup, a weird looking appetizer that’s actually quite delicious, the main course of either chicken/fish/or steak, and two desserts. All throughout, Steve is actually having the time of his life being fed so well. 

“Answer me this,” Steve leans in to whisper in your ear. “Are those hearts or paper airplanes hanging from the ceiling?”

You smiled against the ridge of your champagne glass, “You mean those clay flowers?”

“Is that what they are?” He pauses for a long second, squinting.

“Are your eyes going bad?” 

“Eyes don’t go bad.”

Your mouth falls open. “Your eyes are going bad!”

“Again,” Steve holds up a finger. “My eyes are just fine, not bad.”

Something else to add to that list you had made in the morning.

“This is fucking fantastic.”

Steve, still trying to casually squint, huffs. “Annoying...”

You bump his shoulder and lean in to whisper quietly. “Turns you on.”

Steve just blushes.

    It’s like he forgets where he is for a second, what with the great food and surprisingly good conversation with one of your brothers beside him. Steve’s already built a much stronger rapport with the thirty-something year old man than you have. There’s a stab of guilt for a second, a need to duck and drown in shame, when you realize you can’t even remember his name.

Ernesto stands to announce toasts. His is brief and not all that fatherly, but it’s the longest you’ve heard him string some nice words together. Seda follows, brief as well, and includes a childhood anecdote about her. Jackeline’s mother is a young woman, somewhere between forty and fifty, and her toast is only a sentence long - ‘Solo quiero que estas contenta, mi amor.’ For the first time tonight, Bucky voices his thoughts over the mic with a quiet and sad sounding hum.

Ernesto lifts himself from his chair, swatting away his men who go to help him. He has the microphone again and he’s walking toward you, face neutral. You know better than to refuse in front of this big of a crowd. Steve squeezes your hand before you stand and he remains beaming up at you from his seat. 

You’ve seen it in the movies - raise the glass, say some words, end it nicely. It’s what you do. But it feels surreal, almost unnerving when you don’t recognize the faces looking back at you. 

     “Here’s to you,” you lift your champagne glass, looking around at the happy yet solemn faces at the small table. 

“You deserve all the happiness available to you. You are so lucky to have each other,” you finish the toast and drink your whole glass. There is no applause, just sad smiles in response. You’re not asking for much, you never had.

Tony and Pepper share a quick kiss, thanking everyone around the table quickly as the two cakes are being cut. Their wedding was limited, with only a few people in attendance. Whoever was left. Tony’s cabin could obviously accommodate more people, but he had only requested the gathering of those he could stomach to see. But when that turned out to only be Pepper and Happy, he was forced to open the doors to more. 

So, you accepted your chocolate cake from Rhodey as he handed it to you. Shared some quick chit-chat with Steve and Natasha; greeted Thor as he made his first appearance in a while, hair now longer and baggy clothes hanging from his body, a tortured smile on his aging face; and sat through Happy’s own speech, enjoying his refreshing and joyful attitude. 

But now you stood in front of the kitchen sink, staring at the hidden picture frame behind the mugs - a reminder of what was really missing from this special day. 

You studied Peter’s awkward smile and demeanor, his expression youthful and frozen in time. He became foggy, silver clouds blotting his cheeks and his hair went white, and soon the sink sounded with a tiny ‘clunk!’ as you wept silently. 

You felt a hand slide into your own, squeezing with care and understanding. You looked up to see Steve, his eyes watching your face. He gave you one more gentle squeeze, the same tortured smile as Thor’s on his beautiful face, and walked to his room to retire for the night. 

     Glass raised in the air, you swallow in hopes of not choking over any word because of your nerves. 

“Here’s to you,” you start, already deciding this was going to be like pulling a band-aid. “May this world treat you kind, and that you are kind to each other, and that it’s all that matters.”

Steve forgets to drink. He can’t seem to shake the feeling of wanting to cry.

     Everyone watches as Steve leads you onto the dance floor which is intimidating with its glittering violet light and marble that resembles polished glass. If these were the decorations for the rehearsal dinner, Steve can’t even begin to bet on how tomorrow’s going to look. 

Steve holds you close, one arm wrapped around your waist and the other framing your spine. It’s like a tight hug. “Do you enjoy dancing?”

You step on his foot once again. “Shut up, Steve. Tell me your real thoughts.”

“Who, me?”

“Steve.”

“You suck at dancing.”

“There it is.”

     It isn’t hard to sneak away once everyone piles onto the dance floor. Steve shares a few dances with your aunts before excusing himself to use the bathroom. 

The mission itself goes rather smoothly. Infiltrating and collecting information was childsplay. Amateur. You’ve done it a thousand times and your father isn’t exactly a tech wizard. Neither is Seda. 

You find the electronic bank records Scott couldn’t yesterday, as well as a detailed spreadsheet (more like a hitlist) dating ten years back. In the same file, this actually only slightly encrypted (slightly), are the names of high-level players involved. It’s color-coded, some names familiar because of their involvement with Hydra, and it’s only a matter of seconds before you notice that red means eliminated, black means still at large, and blue means ally. 

There’s a lump in your throat as you scroll through and find Steve’s name, thankfully in blue. It’s expected, so you simply move on, until you find yours. And it’s in black. 

It should terrify you, have you running for the hills and tucking your tail between your legs but you’re won’t because Steve’s name is blue. 

That’s all that matters. 

There’s still no concrete information about the shipment, nothing online or on a loose post-it note. It’s non-existent and that’s suspicious and you don’t know why you don’t voice that to Steve. He’s listening at the door and responding to Sam’s questions. You and Scott are the hackers of the group after all. 

You scan through drawers and cabinets, snapping photos of things you can’t take just yet and filing the papers you can. Papers detailing contracts and miscellaneous connections: lawyers, doctors, politicians, police. Once that’s done, you shrink the evidence to the size of a fingernail with the help of Scott’s tech and hide it in your bra. 

Surprisingly enough, the two of you are able to slip out of the office and the first couple living rooms undetected. Until Jackeline herself appears, pulling down her dress as she exits the bathroom. Steve, stunned by the presence of anyone, pulls you toward his chest with unfocused strength. You hiss loudly and naturally go to cup your injured elbow. It takes a moment for Steve to realize what he’s done and who he’s done it to. 

Jackeline nearly stumbles over her heels out of pure clumsiness but her mouth parts as she notices you and the harsh sound you make. If she truly saw or heard anything, she’s keeping it to herself it seems. 

“Ernesto wanted to see me before we called it a night,” Steve says, letting go of your arm and taking a step back. He doesn’t outright say he’s sorry; he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to. So he braves a smile, sends you a look, and excuses himself. 

No conversation ever comes naturally - or, rather they take at least minimal effort from either party. You say the first thing you can think of and that’s to congratulate her again. 

Your rambling sort of sounds like the toast you gave earlier, but Jackeline either doesn’t want to embarrass you or simply doesn’t notice. She waits for the pause in your voice before she finally speaks.

“Before I start, don’t hate me for this.”

“That’s not a good way to start a sente-” Your face is smacked to the side absurdly hard and you can feel the sting at the base of your neck. You look back at your sister with wide eyes.

“You couldn’t leave the world dead? He was finally dead!”

Baffled, you rub at your sore cheek. “Why am I the one getting the most blame for that? I followed a fucking raccoon around and I didn’t even snap my fingers!”

“Sorry,” she blinks, eyebrows scrunching as she thinks of the next thing to say. “Sorry, I just… it was that easy to kill him and then he just… wasn’t.”

“I don’t know if you noticed, but you were also dead.”

“I was.”

“And we brought back trillions.”

“I know.”

Never once did you wonder what your siblings might have thought. More than half of them were separated from this life, while a few remained and conquered their allowed sectors. Ernesto had never discussed which of his children would take over his seat. But when he was dusted and Seda assumed power, it was clear not one sibling wanted anything to do with it. Or they were just too scared to outright disobey Seda and his tyranny.

Jackeline stands tall, shoulders straight and chin held high. She didn’t seem to worry about the repercussions of her actions - she knows who you are and what you are capable of. The smack seemed deliberate but restrained.

“So?” It’s the only word you can muster up.

“Please don’t judge me.” Her confidence falters and her eyebrows push down even further. “I know you know.”

“You gotta spell it out because I know a lot of things.”

Sighing deeply, she grabs the hand you’re using to rub at your cheek. She grips it tightly as she speaks. “I love him. But he’s impossible to love now and I can’t do anything about it.”

“Oh, Jackeline…”

You could have contacted her. You were on social media - you could have followed her, maybe messaged her annually - hell, called her once in a while to simply check in. The ticket you got was always a temporary one: go to school and find a way to make the trade routes easier to travel. School finished, you found Fury, and you created an alternate identity and background plan to trick your family into doing just what they ordered. And during all that time, Jackeline was barely in her pre-teens, probably scared and alone and missing her only sister. This was just you throwing that smack out of proportion but there was truth in it all. Wasn’t there?

“Julian’s okay. I agreed to this arranged marriage. I’m sure I can grow to love him,” she shrugs, biting her lip as it begins to quiver.

Her eyes are no longer happy - perhaps that was the wrong word to use after she had just confided in you about the reality of her upcoming union. But they definitely seem more dull in comparison to the joyfulness she presented earlier tonight.

“Jackeline, you don’t have to-”

“No, I was gone those five years. He had to move on.” You drop your shoulders and lean forward to give her a hug. No matter how badly you wanted to wrap your hands around Ernesto’s neck, they had more use tenderly wrapped around your sister. 

Relishing the feeling for only a moment longer, Jackeline is ignited once again. “Besides, I should be telling you that! I saw the way that… that fascist pulled you. If he’s hurting you, I’ll kill him.”

Your eyes must be bulging out of your head. “Oh.” 

She looks at you as if you’re going to admit abuse and confide in her like she did you. “No, it’s okay. Steve’s perfect, he’s… wonderful.”

Jackeline shakes her head rapidly, “Don’t you lie to me. I know what I saw.”

“I’m not lying. But you gotta trust me. I’ll explain later-”

“Explain what?”

Seda breaks the conversation and you forget to curse inwardly. Instead, a mumbled ‘fuck’ is heard. It only serves to fuel the flame. Jackeline flashes a rehearsed smile, and she truly is your sister because for a sad moment she looks exactly like you.

“Explain why she never returned my calls to be my maid of honor! I swear, this one is always so busy she forgets I exist!”

“She is,” Seda agrees, grinning like he already knows what the original conversation was about. “Always busy.” 

Jackeline keeps the same smile and is about to continue fanning the flames when Seda interrupts again. “Jackie, your father wanted me to speak with your sister alone for a moment. It has to do with tomorrow’s shipment.”

“Yes, of course. Don’t keep her for too long, okay? Tomorrow’s a late start but we all need our beauty sleep.” Jackeline leaves and fails to look over her shoulder to double check on you.

Seda steps closer, arms swinging casually like he’s pondering the possibilities of what he could do without Steve present. But instead of focusing solely on him, you listen to the soft sound of Bucky’s voice through the mic as he tells you that he’s listening in and he’s here.

“What did she say to you?”

“Is it really any of your business?”

He snaps immediately, gripping your cheeks in one hand so you can’t move your head. “When will you learn to keep your goddamn mouth shut around me?”

“You asked.” Smacking his hand away would have been frowned upon before, but not anymore. Free reign if need be. “Besides, when will you learn that that will never happen?”

“You can’t believe anything she tells you. Ernesto’s only two daughters are mistakes, both threats to his reign. Never submissive, always asking questions-”

You grunt almost comically, “Men and their irrational fears of women… What did I ever do to you?”

He pauses and you notice how his angry eyes always seem to water from his frustration. “You brought him back.”

“I also brought back trillions.”

“You know,” his face does something unpleasant. “Before Jackeline was dusted, she had been seeing that priest.”

“How could you possibly know-”

“He was so devastated by her loss. Found God, became a changed man.”

“Seda, what are you playing at?”

“She came back.” He lifts one finger. “He couldn’t resist.” He raises another. “Didn’t take long for Ernesto to find out.” The third one is the last, and he mimics a small explosion as he concludes. “But don’t worry, we took care of him.”

You never once believed the Devil was this angry, red demon with horns atop his head and a sharp tail, voice booming as he ruled the underworld with the weapons of pain and suffering. He didn’t possess or haunt random places. If anything, the Devil himself was simply a metaphor, a representation of the evil in a living world. It only made people comfortable to create an image, no matter how ridiculous.

Once you even thought the Devil was Hades, and he wasn’t all that bad when it truly came down to the root of all problems. He oversaw the underworld but he didn’t take life, he didn’t cause the pain, he simply watched and ruled. That maybe Hades was real considering Thor was, and he was just chilling in the underworld bored out of his mind.

But the evil the Devil represented was a constant in this world already, in your life from start to finish, and Seda’s eyes held something unspeakable. Dark brown eyes almost black, left cheek twitching with the urge to smile grotesquely, the tense nature of his broad shoulders. He was no massive man, a few inches taller than you, but he was a giant in a world in which Hades lacked and the Devil persisted.

“But Julian-”

Seda scoffs, “Julian was her rebound. Got mixed up in the business, with Ernesto  - but I don’t doubt he loves Jackeline.”

You’re this close to breaking the man’s fingers. He doesn’t stop counting his supposed triumphs. “When were the pictures taken?”

“Don’t do that,” he laughs as he finally steps away from you. “Ask your real question.”

Your smile was involuntary. So was Seda’s. It was the one thing you had in common: smiling at things that weren’t funny. “Did you threaten him? Torture him? Kill him yet?”

“... Jackeline will never know.”

Your mouth parts slowly like you’re still digesting his words. “You unimaginable bastard.”

If you had to bet, you would have placed all your money on Ernesto being the giant to fear. He had hurt you in countless ways, used you and discarded what he didn’t like, put you in the line of fire for his own gain. He had taken pleasure in knowing you hurt, in knowing what you had lost and suffered. He mocked your sacrifice time and time again. And there was a sentence you had never uttered out loud for fear of what you might do, or what anyone hearing you might do, that Ernesto had said one chilly November night only a year after the world returned. It was a thought so suppressed you almost always forgot it had been real. ‘A shame the Widow did what she did - what an unbelievable asset wasted over something pointless.’

No one outside your circle could possibly understand. They didn’t have to - but to dismiss the main reason he was retaking his tainted throne... insanity. 

But something in Seda’s voice moved even the most dormant areas in your soul. The giant was a man with nothing and everything to lose but with the power to choose which. Staring at him for too long prompted an uncomfortable sting across your waterline like his glare burned. Such a normal looking man with short dark hair and an aging face. He stared at you with a set look, one that told you he knew something you didn’t. Like he controlled giants even bigger than him. He wasn’t Hades, who restrained himself and hid in the shadows of a world he was forced to rule - he was the Devil’s metaphor, with red strains licking his tan skin and eyes sharp enough to puncture.

With a small tilt of his head and a strangled grin, he finally turns to leave. “Have a safe drive home.”

     After saying a quick goodbye to Jackeline and securing the estate, you hurried to get to your car and leave. Ernesto had just sent you a quick nod of the head and reminded Steve he needed to see him again before the wedding started. All your leftover energy literally went into pulling open the passenger door. 

Out of instinct now, you wait until the car is past the gates and a good mile from the hidden entrance before speaking freely.

“We get everything?”

The night is dark and you can barely see the outline of the trees. The sky is covered with gray clouds and there are no lampposts to provide light. It’s really just your headlights. “I think so. I think.”

Steve can sense the hesitancy in your answer. “What’s wrong?”

You shake with an exaggerated shiver, “Seda was being creepy… just more than usual.”

“What do you mean?” Steve was probably communicating and online with Sam during his conversation with Ernesto and completely missed the one you had with Seda.

“Fuckin’ didn’t think it could get weirder, but Jackeline mentioned how this was basically an arranged marriage and then Seda,” you stop suddenly. The uneasiness was creeping back. 

“An arranged marriage? Fuck, what else is this mission going to throw at us?”

‘Captain?’

Steve’s hands accidentally swerve the steering wheel as response to the small fright. “... Was that your phone or mine?”

You fumbled through your mini purse for your phone. “Me. Hey? Friday?”

‘The one and only. I hope that didn’t frighten you because I really need your attention right about now.’

Steve chuckles, eyes straight ahead as he drives. “That doesn’t sound ominous at all.”

‘My readings are picking up something strange. The vehicle, even if I’m not able to virtually connect, seems to be stalling.’ Torres did curse you two before you left for renting a car made before 2013.

“What do you mean? It’s working just fine.” 

You set your phone down on the dash to start looking around the interior of the car.

‘The pedal, yes Captain. But I’m afraid my readings are focused on the brakes.’

You bite your tongue and scrunch up your nose. What else could possibly happen tonight? “That’s always fun to hear, great. Greaaaat.”

“Friday, what are you picking up?” Steve’s voice is more stern and even if he’s not doing it on purpose, he’s trying to ignore your coping mechanism of joking during dire situations.

‘It seems that when they took the vehicle for parking, they attached something to the brake lines. Sort of like a trigger sensor. Do not slow down.’

“We’re stuck? We can’t stop?”

‘Everytime the Captain de-accelerates, the sensor heats up. That’s what my readings are.’

“Fuck,” you unclipped your seatbelt and turned your body toward Steve. “Fuck!”

“Friday, what do we do?” The least Steve could do is be the level-headed one here.

‘Exactly what you’re thinking, Captain. The shield’s in the trunk.’

“We can’t exactly get to it!” You don’t mean to scream at Friday. You’re sure she’s used to adrenaline induced attacks guided toward her and never about her.

‘The burners were produced by Stark Industries for our very own spy unit. They are equipped with a taser, flashlight, and laser.’

Jumping so your feet were planted firmly on the passenger seat, you make sure everything is in place: the stolen files, your gun, your phone, and earpiece. “Keep your foot on that pedal, Rogers. I don’t feel like blowing up tonight.”

He releases a shaky breath, hands turning pale from the grip he has on the steering wheel. “You and me both.”

“Friday?” Your voice is only slightly timid, but you manage to move your body out from the front seats and to the back.

‘The laser, Agent Y/LN. Cut through the seats.’

Nodding along to her instructions, you search for the burner under your skirt and unstrap it from the holster. Pulling its ancient antenna outward, Friday verbally guides you through the very simple instruction. The laser blasts out unexpectedly at first making you squeal, which in turn causes Friday (a literal AI) to chuckle. You’re thankful the antenna was facing the back seats already.

“Doing good back there?”

You respond with a low grunt as you carefully carve out the largest rectangle you can create. “You better have shoved the thing close. Any stop signs up ahead?”

Steve’s getting worried now, but instead of putting you more on edge, he hides it pretty well. “Thank god this place is in the middle of nowhere.”

You don’t even give his response acknowledgement as you finally pull the leather, metal, and weird cushion filling away and spot the shield. “I got it, got it, got it.”

‘My sensors suggest you’ll have a good five seconds to escape the vehicle once the Captain releases the pedal.’

You make sure your hair is in the tightest ponytail known to man and that your skirt is bunched up in your free arm. You strap the shield onto the other. “Steve, you gonna be alright?”

His eyes are still focused on the road, but he braves a look in the mirror back at you. His voice is stern but not demanding. “I know you hate the damn shield but bend your legs, jump sideways, and tuck your head.”

“Yeah,” you nod along. Damn straight you’ll put your hate aside for one second if it’s here to save your life. “You better jump on time, you understand me?”

“Sam,” Steve keeps the speed steady and tries to ignore the way his heart is pounding from the sound of you kicking open the back door. “Sam, Widow. Widow.”

Before you jump, the asphalt a never ending, rapid glare of absolute darkness, you leave your phone on the seat in case Steve still needs her. “Friday, send Sam and Torres our location. They’re the only ones who can fly in undetected. Tell them what you told us.”

‘Will do, Agent Y/LN.’

“Be careful.”

You smirk at him, “Don’t be a hero and crash this one into the ice, yeah?”

You don’t wait for his reaction and instead take the plunge. The shield makes a hard impact with the asphalt down below, screeching for what seems like an eternity before slowing down. You did as instructed: knees tucked into your chest as far as you were able, head doing the same. By the time the ride finally ends and you’ve gone partially deaf, you can make out the sound of a loud explosion a close distance away. The heat from the sudden burst of wind nips at your face. You’ve also gone partially blind. 

Your poor boots are definitely ruined and there’s a faint tell of a bruised ankle in the works. The arm attached to the shield will also need to be popped back into place - it shouldn’t feel this loose. Luckily, your head and torso were completely unscathed. 

Lifting yourself up the best you could without straining anything too much, you noticed the car still in flames but driven off the road. 

“He jumped, he jumped, he jumped,” you repeat, limping as quickly as you could, shield still attached to your arm. The closer you get the clearer everything becomes, regardless of the smoke. “Steve.”

You squint through the orange light and the dark of night. The fire wasn’t all that loud in its crackles and it doesn’t take you long to realize while tapping your ears that you lost your earpiece. 

“Steve,” you try again, adrenaline still pumping but panic seeping in. As if on cue, you can make out his body laying far away from the car relatively unharmed. “Ah, shit.” You drop down on your knees and wince involuntarily. Slapping his cheeks doesn’t wake him up, neither does gently shaking him. You don’t want to do anything to hurt him more. 

The sound of gravel popping kicks you back into spy mode. Hide. This was a hit, of course it was, and they were coming to see their job done. 

“You so owe me,” you groan as you unstrap the shield to throw it into the woods, the faint tell of it hitting a tree enough to make you work faster. You hook your arms underneath Steve’s armpits and bend your knees, breathing in deeply and out a few times before pulling him with all your strength. There’s pain shooting up your arm but you try to ignore it. Small whimpers escape you as you pull harder and finally make it a good distance from the wreckage. You sit Steve, still unconscious, behind one of those massive pine trees and sit next to him after retrieving the shield. 

It’s only two black SUV’s that come to check their hard work. They’re bending down and using their own fire extinguishers, snapping their own photos, the works. It isn’t until Seda walks over to admire the wreckage that you have to bite your bottom lip to keep from screaming. 

You’re seated in front of Steve now with the shield in front of you when a sudden movement to your left startles you. Before you scream, however, a hand covers your mouth. 

“Shh, shh.” Sam. Your eyes fill with tears. 

“I’ve got him. Torres is coming for you, alright? I’m the only one who can carry him out.”

It doesn’t take much to convince you. You’re silently helping Sam strap Steve against his chest as Seda and his men are now investigating the woods. You can hear them close, cursing and yelling about finding you. 

“Go a little further. Down there,” Sam points in front of you. “Torres is parked and waiting. Go.”

“Don’t drop him.” Sam stifles his laugh. 

You follow his directions, limping as quickly as you can, and finally find Torres, your second knight in shining armor of the night. 

    After an all clear from the medical team, Steve is left alone in your hotel room to rest. He still hasn’t woken up but Helen isn’t worried since his scans show no major damage. Small talk with the rest of the team fills in the time but it’s like you’re not really there, merely a participant on a loop. There’s a bitter taste in your mouth and you’re covered in scratches and smoky ash and you can’t shake the feeling of wanting to kill something. 

Your father wanted you dead. And showing up to the wedding was just going to anger him more but it had to be done. But you were tired, so fucking tired, tired to the point where you couldn’t sleep or rest.

You let your hair down but stay in your tattered clothing, making yourself useful as best you can. You answer questions, you review footage, you draft up some reports. Bucky tries to sit you down at one point, but he backs off when you simply shake your head and give him that famous broken smile. 

You’re sitting at your desk trying to save some of your phone’s cloud through the connected email. Sam has already ordered you a new phone. On the computer to your left, you’re scanning and uploading the files you stole tonight. On the right, your little butterfly is transcribing conversations from yesterday. 

The transcription is finished before the uploads. It prints. 

SEDA: ‘Ernesto needs to know how many more women we can get from Jonathon. I thought you said your Italian contact was up to date?’

UNKNOWN: ‘He is. But the women are coming from here instead. Got a load of ten just now.’

SEDA: ‘The shipment goes out during the wedding. Not before, not after. We can’t fuck this up for Ernesto and we cannot have the stars and stripes finding out.’

UNKNOWN: ‘Ernesto plans to mention it to him tomorrow.’

SEDA: ‘Then make sure he keeps quiet about it.’

The bitter taste in your mouth returns and you have to run to the nearest bathroom.

     Steve wakes just an hour after, disoriented but able to discern who he is. “What happened?”

You’re standing at the foot of his bed, having just got there a few minutes before, practically on the verge of tears. “... Did you know?”

There it was. Any hope of truly coming to terms with this new world order or his role in it, any hope of feeling like he did before he succumbed to the American war propaganda and became a science experiment, crumbling before him. The heavy weight that were your shoulders, crumbling like shaky mountains. His own, tense and straining and urging him to get out of bed. 

He’s been in the trenches when the smell of gas and blood clogged his nostrils and made him dizzy. He’s experienced loss a thousand times over, just heinous instances of despair where he swore he was torn in two. He’s lost on his own accord and pretended like the world was still on its axis. 

And he knew his time was up. He just thought he’d have more than a day to enjoy it.  “I was going to tell you.”

It’s like the air is punched out of you. “You knew?”

“Please, listen, please,” he scrambles out of bed.

“What the fuck, Rogers?”

“Ramirez told us yesterday. I swear I only found out yesterday. Yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” You’re stepping away from him. He’s almost on his hands and knees and you’re stepping away from him. “Before?”

Steve makes a pained noise. “Yes, but please-”

“No! You kept this to yourself and you had the fucking audacity to share the same bed as me?”

“Please, let me explain-” He tries to reach out but you side-step him. He reacts like you’ve shot him.

“Don’t touch me, Steve!”

“Please, just let me explain. We all know - Bucky, Sam, Torres, we all know.”

Your face does something he’s never seen it do. “Fuck?”

He’s talking faster now, words just spilling on the floor and into the air and he doesn’t know what else to do. “We’re tracking it. We have a plan set. We were supposed to tell you tomorrow before the wedding.” He stops to take in a breath. “I was going to tell you.”

“You went behind my back.”

“If I would have told you, you would have done something horrible tonight! We need your father alive to find those people!”

Eyes wide in shock and anguish, you step further away from him. Each step was the equivalent of a dagger plunging deep into Steve’s heart, twisting and burning its way to the depths of his vulnerability. He wanted to succumb to the pain - after all, he deserved it.

“That would have been my choice to make!”

Now he pushed forward, shoulders hunched and palms turned upward as if he was pleading for a crumb of understanding. “I was gonna kill him.”

He drops to his knees, arms wrapping around your waist. You remained perfectly still, a tree stump with no cover. “I was gonna shoot him between the eyes when I first found out. But if I had done that, then we would never know the location of those people.”

His weight was pulling you down and you felt his wet cheek against your stomach. “I deserved to know.”

His grip tightened, “You did. But if you would have known-”

“I would have known. Period.”

He had to know how much he weighed. But Steve leaned his body onto yours harder, afraid you would vanish and god forbid turn to dust. It didn’t really register in his mind that, even though he was holding you in place, you weren’t exactly trying to escape his hold either. 

He had let you go once and he’ll be goddamned if he let you go again. 

“It ate me alive. I hated doing this-”

You pushed against his shoulders and sensed his reluctance to let go. Instead, you look down at him and tense your jaw. “Steve, you don’t hate me, do you?”

His face dropped and his grip loosened. You should just slap him across the face, Steve thinks, because how in the world were you thinking that at this moment? Never did he think you would find a way to twist this - to somehow blame yourself for his mistake. Took a long time to see it, but you were just as righteous as he was. It would get you both killed someday. 

“Why do you think that? What in the world would make you think that after all this time? After everything?”

He lets you push him away so he could stand but he makes sure to keep his hands on you. A tangible promise that you are real. 

“You agreed to help me catch a drug lord. You didn’t sign up for this extra mess.”

“We may not always know what we’re up against,” Steve began, sniffing and wiping at his wet face. God, he felt like such a mess. “But I could never fucking hate you. Don’t even think that.”

“You sure?” your voice cracks, hands slightly shaking from the need to touch him too. “Captain America didn’t sign up for this.”

He shakes his head almost violently, “No, no. Don’t go there. I am not him, I haven’t been him in a long time.”

“Steve-”

“No! I’ve hated the title for a while now. I’m done. I’ve hated my reflection for years and years.” The tiny whine in the middle of your throat gurgled and your hands moved instantly to cup his cheeks.  “I represent no one but myself. I’m tired of others thinking I’m the same man from ten years ago, or the same man from the forties, or the same man from last week just because they’re enamored by that star on my chest.”

He tilts his head to lean into your touch, “I am helping you because it’s the honorable thing to do. I signed up for this work, I intend to finish it. Not Captain America, but me - Steve, me.”

“You’re still making me feel like it’s something you have to do.”

“I admit that I was never overly fond of the idea of being wrapped up in this,” Steve admits, hands now cupping yours over his cheeks. “But toppling this empire will keep you safe.”

As heartwarming as that sounded, you broke the fantasy. “The minute we take the giants out, they’ll elect someone new.”

“But we take the giants out. The giants that hurt you.”

He’s right, like always. 

“Steve,” you say quietly, bringing his face closer to kiss away his tears. You’re struggling to keep the tippy-toes and your ankle is screaming for a break, but you persist. “You should have told me.”

“I know.”

“No more secrets.”

“None, I swear, I promise.”

Biting your lip to keep from crying, you make sure his eyes are locked on yours before you speak. “I’m not walking away this time. I’m not leaving you. Not again.”

Steve’s mouth releases a big burst of air like he was holding it in, and he wraps you in a hug that promises the same.

~

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

A/N: Wooooo that took forever lol xxMoni

[stranger-who-writes-fiction]

Ya know what these self-indulgent Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow posts need? Self-indulgent banner art, that’s what.

Spoilers for issue #4!

Let’s start this off right with CREATOR CREDITS. Issue 4 of Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow is titled “Restraint, Endurance, and Passion.” Written by Tom King, Art by Bilquis Evely, Colors by Matheus Lopes, Letters by Clayton Cowles, and Edited by Brittany Holzherr. (w/ Assist. Editor: Bixie Mathieu & Senior Editor Mike Cotton)

THE STORY: 

Right, so this? This issue? Best one yet.

Also the bleakest of the bunch thus far; even though we don’t always see the brutality of the space pirates that Kara and Ruthye are following, there’s...the suggestion of it. The aftermath. And how Kara responds to it.

Okay, getting a little ahead of myself. BASIC PLOT SUMMARY: Ruthye and Kara continue their pursuit of Krem, who has taken up with Barbond’s Brigands.

The Brigands basically just. Murder and terrorize people, for profit.

Each planet they visit brings new horrors, as well as people who need Supergirl’s help.

And help she does.

KARA-CTERIZATION:

I yell a lot about the art on this book, and have, in fact, openly admitted that I’m primarily here for Evely and Lopes.

Well, that wily son-of-a-gun King went and wrote some of the best ‘Super’ stuff I’ve ever read and dang it, dang it, now I gotta yell about the words too. XD

Specifically, I wanna yell (in a good way!) about some words that occur towards the very end of the book.

Kara and Ruthye have Seen Some Things; things like genocide and mass grave sites and horrible violence, and upon reaching a planet where peaceful monks were slaughtered, Kara’s had enough, and needs to leave because if she screams, she’ll destroy what little is left of the monks’ monastery.

Here’s the text in full, because my gosh. It’s so good:

“What I write next I write based on my observations in those long-ago days at the side of the greatest warrior in the history of this august reality we all call home. It is important to note that my assertions do not rely on anything Supergirl said. It was not a subject we ever discussed or even approached, but nonetheless I believe it to be as true as the turning of worlds. You see, what is not well understood about the daughter of Krypton is that her power was not one of action but one of restraint, endurance, and passion. She did not choose to fire a beam from her eyes, or have breath of ice, or run faster than a speeding bullet. Or any of her other well-documented miracles. No, she held back her heat vision to look you in the face. She warmed her breath to converse with you. She slowed herself to walk by your side. Ever moment of every day, she suppressed the forces churning inside of her. All of the energy of a dead world that strained against her many barriers, eternally demanded to be released. I believe this effort hurt her. I believe she lived her life in pain. But I reiterate again, for I think it important enough to repeat--These beliefs are based on my time at her side, watching her as she moved through strife and sorrow. If you were to have asked her, I have little doubt she would have claimed that such as assertion was absurd. She would say she felt fine and well and then she’d as you if you needed any help.”

A long chunk of words, I know (this comic is DENSE!) but like. This is it. This is one of the defining attributes of the Supers--all that raw power at their disposal and they choose to help people, to be kind, to suppress that power for the benefit and safety of others.

HNNNNNNNG.

Hope, Help, and Compassion for All.

Whole lotta folks claimed at the outset of this book that King did not understand Kara, that he was a bad fit. And that may be so, I suppose--there’s a whole other discussion about like. The violence and swearing and ‘does that belong in a Supergirl book?’ But the characterization? Getting that Kara and Clark are just good people? 

King gets it. He got it in Superman: Up in the Sky and he gets it here, in Woman of Tomorrow.

Other things King gets! Kara is stubborn! Kara is passionate! Kara is going to fix things, even if the effort of doing so hurts her, physically, emotionally, and mentally!

(Fuuuuuuun fact for the crowd saying that Woman of Tomorrow is vastly superior to the CW show: TV Kara is ALSO all of those things! King isn’t pulling this stuff out of thin air. It’s almost like...gosh. I don’t know! Both the show and Tom King are pulling from the character’s comic history, or something!!!! HOW NOVEL.) 

Like, seriously. There’s a lot of overlap. Stop pitting Karas against each other!

Anyways!

I promised art, so here is art!

Oh, right, forgot to mention, Kara literally THROWS HERSELF INTO THE SUN to express her grief and anger, so as to not cause that unnecessary destruction. She gives new meaning to the phrase: Set yourself on fire to keep someone else warm. 

More art yelling: GOTTDAMN, the way Evely draws Kara just colliding with the surface of the sun and then the way Kara’s hair like...becomes the flames...

I am FEELING FEELINGS. HOW DARE.

Also, props to King and Cowles; King for deciding to have that initial scream, Cowles for the way the letters burst forth from the point of impact on the sun, and then back to King who decided that it would just be...devastating silent screaming from Kara, for the remainder of the scene. 

Back to the characterization, I just wanted to highlight something I mentioned...earlier on, I think? In these posts? But haven’t brought up recently, and that is how this book has not once brought up Zor-El, and I think Superman only got a quick mention in issue 2.

Honestly, I think that’s gotta be some kind of record.

It’s so refreshing. Not because I think there should never be mentions of Clark, or anything--I love that boy--but because so much of modern Supergirl comic drama is mined from the same like, angsting over her place compared to Clark, or her crazy sometimes-a-supervillain dad. 

There is no Clark and Kara drama here, no manufactured friction, because it’s just. A cool Supergirl story! 

Gonna keep going, but let’s do it with some more...

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTT!!!!

Once again, Mat Lopes is all over the dang place with his palettes, it’s marvelous.

Each new planet gives Evely the opportunity to go hog wild on the worldbuilding and design, and similarly! Each new locale is an opportunity for Lopes to set the tone with colors. Like, here, towards the beginning of the book, we’ve got a planet bathed in this warm, pale yellow/orange light. 

(Quick note: “Sure, yeah, I get it. We all have our duties. And it’s mine as a neighbor to do what I can to help you with yours. Please.” A+ Kara content. We love to see it. And then locating the remains of the alien’s daughter, so that they can go visit the grave site and have some emotional closure???? It’s just. So. Touching.)

Anyways, back to colors.

Like!!!! LOOK AT THAT JUMP. From the soft, almost pastoral feel of the delicate oranges and yellows to HARD GREEN, PINK, AND PURPLE. (Difficult colors to pull off in print, I might add.) 

(This is also an interesting scene, character-wise, because I think it helps re-contextualize some earlier stuff with Kara. Like, I’m mostly thinking that incident on the bus, where she was swearing at the passengers as the space dragon was about to destroy them. Here, we see Kara kind of...goad this alien woman into releasing her pent up emotions by yelling at her/getting her to fight, and you can clearly see at the end of it that Kara did not mean the things she said, because check this out:

She goes and gives her a hug once the woman is able to finally cry.

It’s not ‘Kara is being mean, Kara is swearing at her’, it’s, ‘Kara has an unorthodox solution to a problem, and she’s gonna FIX that problem, NO MATTER WHAT.’

Circling back to the bus thing--again, that could be an instance of ‘unorthodox approach to a weird situation that Kara is going to handle because lives are at stake.’)

But also, DIG THAT KIRBY KRACKLE, BAY-BEEEEE!

And a little Strange Adventures easter egg! The Pykkts! 

(I think those guys are unique to the Black Label series, rather than deep Adam Strange lore, but don’t quote me on that.)

Moving on to YET ANOTHER PALETTE, one I’ve dubbed, ‘Treasure Planet Purple/Grey’

Love Ruthye’s snoozing against the door, waiting for Kara.

Also, just as striking as the colors of the environment, are the colors used on Kara. 

If you compare this page with the previous one, Kara’s eyes are a paler shade of blue, and the red-rimmed look on her eyes here is not as intense as the red-rimmed look we saw back in issue one, when she was confronting Krem. 

All of which to say! There’s a pale, haunted quality to both the linework and the colors. Like. We know Kara has Seen Some Things. But she’s shoving all that stuff down to protect Ruthye, to save Krypto, and to stop these monsters, and you get all of that WITH COLORS AND LINES ON A PAGE.

I love it, I love it so much.

OTHER BOOKS WISH THEY HAD THIS LEVEL OF CHARACTER ACTING, I TELL YA! THEY WISH THEY HAD THIS BEAUTIFUL ALCHEMY OF INKER, COLORIST, AND WRITER WORKING IN SUCH TIGHT TANDEM!

Ahem. XD

Alright, last bit of art, lest I just. Post the whole issue in here. (Which I’m honestly always tempted to do but Strong Feelings about Piracy hold me back.)

JUST HECKIN’ LOOK AT THAT BLUE, MAN. JUST LOOK AT IT. S’BEAUTIFUL.

And more stunning character acting from Evely. Like. Bottom middle panel. The expression, the tilt of her head and the shadows on her eyes...

*insert silent flailing here*

Oh, also, KRYPTO LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVESSSS (for now). 

I’m never right about these things, so I’m glad the one time I’ve correctly read a thing is when it involves Krypto not, ya know. Being dead. XD

Also absolutely love that Kara’s instinct is to send Ruthye home to protect her--once more leaning into that whole, ‘I’m going to protect you, even at great cost to myself’, though of course we know that she can’t send her home, not here, not now, just halfway through our journey. 

ERRRRRRGH, so mad we’re not getting twelve issues of this! CURSE YOU, POOR SUPERGIRL TRADE SALES! CURSE YOOOOOOU!

That said, King’s pacing? Has been phenomenal. I feel like Strange Adventures and even Mr. Miracle kinda...I’m not gonna say dragged, that’s not quite right. But it is more build up, I guess. Takes a while to get to the payoff.

Here, I think King is pushing things steadily along as he doesn’t have the benefit of an additional four issues, so he has to get to the point, so to speak. Keeps everything moving.

SOME FINAL, MISC. STUFF:

I’ve sort of glossed over the darker stuff from this issue, and I just wanna note that like. This is a book that features a bad guy getting stoned (in the death sentence way, not the drug way) on panel. Like. I can’t recommend this to children.

I can’t even really recommend it to some other Supergirl fans, because I know that the King elements will be too off-putting. 

It never feels like the book is going too far, though. At least in like an...exploitative way? If that makes sense?

The violence is handled with discretion, I guess is what I’m trying to convey. This could very easily tip over into like, gross shock factor territory, if not handled well, but I think the creative team pulls it off.

...Still wouldn’t hand this book to kids, though. XD

As mentioned, we’re halfway through this series! Can’t wait to see where it goes--every time I think I have this book figured out, it surprises me. So, like. Bring on the Dinosaur planet! With no sunlight! I wanna see how Lopes handles THAT. XD

(But Oh, OooooOOooh, we gotta wait until NOVEMBER.)

(Hhhnnnnng!)

(Then again, maybe that’s good; we’ve got the TV show in the meantime, and then once it ends we can pick right up with new Supergirl content just a few weeks later.)

(...Aw. Made myself a little sad, thinking about the TV show coming to an end.)

:C

So as not to end on that sad note, here once again is tiny, smushed Kara:

Give ‘em the ol razzle dazzle.

[nikstersss]

Not How To Pass The PLE

Before I go into the main gist of this post, let me give you a small background story. I was a mid-year post-graduate intern in Manila who started in January 2021. I lived alone in our condo unit near the hospital I went to. My usual routine was to get up early, prep, take a short walk to the trike station where I’d take a tricycle to the hospital, go on duty, insert a coffee or carioca break in between, walk all the way home at the end of the day, then maybe have a short study session with a couple friends after dinner or just chill at home. It was a pretty good setup. But then COVID happened. Suddenly, I was a pandemic e-ntern stuck at home listening to Zoom endorsements and lectures all day. At first I was hopeful that things would somehow go back to normal and maybe I wouldn’t be spending the rest of my internship in front of a screen, but we all know how that turned out. 

I finished the first half of my internship with the regular year PGIs online. While they were prepping for their boards, I was on my second half with the new batch of interns (that’s probably you, dear reader)—still online. Now you might think that it would have been wise of me to use all that “free” time to start early with my own boards prep and you would be correct. I thought the exact same thing. And trust me, I tried. And failed. Countless times. I won’t even try to justify it. Admittedly, I still think it was a wasted opportunity to read more and make notes, but then again, there’s no use crying over spilled milk. Besides, while it would have been nice and probably less stressful, I still survived without it. Which means that you can, too. So if you’re one of those who’s berating himself because you “didn’t make the most out of your time”, cut it out. You’ll be fine.

Towards the end of my internship, I enrolled in a review center. Despite the asynchronous setup, the review schedule was super tight and the sessions already started while I was still in the middle of final reports and exams. Needless to say, I was already behind on that before it even began. In fact, I didn’t even get to focus on reviewing itself until maybe around early February because of clearance, paperwork, and application stuff. So if you were to ask me how long I really reviewed for the March 2021 boards, I’d say just a little over a month. Kasalanan ko. Wag po tularan. Stressful siya. Nakakaloka. 

And even when I did get to really buckle down and do some intense reading, I didn’t follow the program anymore. I tried to catch up at first, but I was already way behind. But I am grateful for all the summarized material because that meant I didn’t have to pore over the mother books anymore. What I will say, though, is that because I didn’t exactly follow the recommended study hours etcetera, I was able to enjoy the whole process because I did it at my own pace. Sure, there was still that dread that maybe I wasn’t on the same level as the others, but I learned to tune those thoughts out eventually. And that’s where goal-setting and discipline comes in, I guess. 

The most common question I’ve been getting is what was my day like during the PLE review season. Honestly, I’d like to say I had a routine I followed, but that’s only half-true. While I did have a structure for my day, I rarely followed it exactly. Nevertheless, allow me to share what it would have been like if I did: 

Ideally, I’d wake up at 5:00 A.M. then do my morning routine which included prayer and meditation, making my bed, taking a shower, and brewing coffee. And because I’m the type of person who enjoys these mundane activities and slow mornings, I also took this opportunity to get myself in the zone before all the studying that’s to come. I’d plan out my study goals and outline (something you can do the night before, actually) then maybe have breakfast while watching some videos (could be review-related, or those self-motivational vids, or maybe even Korean street food). I’d do whatever I wanted to wake my brain up without stressing it out too much until around 6:30 A.M. By this time, I’d work on backlogs for about an hour and study until about 10 or 11 A.M.—it depends how in the zone I am. I’d prep and cook lunch and then eat while watching Netflix maybe or even play a bit of Fortnite or Paladins until about 1:00 P.M. At this point, I’m pretty certain to be quite sleepy so it’s either I make coffee or tea, or maybe even go out to study at a coffee shop, and then it’s study all the way until 7 P.M. I then take a break to get some exercise, take a shower, have a light dinner, and if I feel like I deserve it, nap for a little bit. At around 8:30, my family usually calls and then we pray the rosary together. After this, I study again, but more of a recall and review session for the day’s progress until about 11:30. I then have my night self-care routine and then go to sleep around midnight. 

The main takeaway from the previous paragraph? “Ideally.”

During the first few days of setting up my schedule or routine, following it was already challenging, but still doable. But then the backlogs started piling up and no matter how much I tried to streamline the whole study process, I just couldn’t keep up. I did what I could to follow study habits and schedules, but the setup was falling apart. And you know what? That was okay. 

Normally, my type A self would have been so frustrated already with how poorly I was handling my review season. Admittedly, there were a few meltdowns and anxiety attacks as the exam drew nearer, but for the most part, I just let things happen as they did. I still adjusted, sure, but I wasn’t hard on myself for always having to. I kept changing goals when I didn’t meet them (which was probably 80% of the time). There were even instances where I’d finish a handout and then I’d say that okay, I’ll watch an episode for a reward, but that episode became the entire season. While I considered myself to be the most chill reviewee, I also thought I was the worst because I refused to give up any of my wants for my needs. I resisted, of course, but then they’d bug me the entire time I was studying so instead of staying productive, I’d just annoy the hell out of myself. I was probably just lazy and stubborn. LOL. Long story, short, it was a constant battle. 

There were times when I felt confident enough to power through the whole thing. I enjoyed the whole process of studying, actually. Making notes and my own ways of memorizing things was fun. I made use of different study strategies, self-checks, and motivational boosters (more on these on a different post). Aside from these, having review-mates who were just a chat away made things bearable. Breakdown session muna tas aral na ulit. And how could I forget all my sweet friends who would send over coffee ayuda every now and then? To me, passing the boards, while mainly should be for oneself and one’s self-actualization, is also about not letting down these people who have been with you throughout your journey. 

But it wasn’t always a hyped-90s-movie-transformation-montage kind of environment. Other times, I was just worn out and dejected by my lack of progress. In the already meager time I had to study, I still had plenty of off-days. Concepts just wouldn’t stick and it was disappointing how I’d already forgotten what I just read a couple days ago. It got really tiring even if I was staying indoors all the time. I missed the comfort of coffee shops and the company of study buddies. I missed my family. I wanted to hug our dog. There were days when I couldn’t even bring myself to make coffee and open my notes. I even reached a point where I was sure that I wouldn’t finish reading all the material. (I kid you not, I have handouts I never got to open.) 

Yet here I am. Here I am writing about how I survived all that and got those two letters attached to my name. I am not a good example, obviously. There are hundreds better than me and you probably should be taking advice from them instead. I’m simply writing this to tell you that you don’t have to worry. This is all just to ease your anxieties about the PLE. I’m not saying it’s an easy feat that you can just achieve just like that. While I seemed rather complacent, I still put in the work, after all. Admittedly, I know I could have done more, but again, I’m not going to dwell on that anymore. It’s done. 

My goal in writing this is to let you know, my dear future doctor, that you’re going to be just fine. Here’s someone who understands the huge disconnect that stemmed from being a pandemic e-ntern. Here’s someone who’s always been doubtful and full of anxieties about the PLE even before she filed her application at the PRC. Here’s someone who constantly prayed that the PLE be moved even for just a month (or kahit two weeks lang masaya na ako nun) up to the week before the exam along with a rising number of cases. Here’s someone who barely has the capability to maintain focus for more than an hour. Here’s someone whose reading pace was literally at 10 minutes per page (yes, I actually timed it and IDK if that’s slow or really slow). Here’s someone who still allowed herself to study at coffee shops and even have samgyup (with proper health protocols, of course) even if she knew she was drowning in backlogs. 

My point is that if I managed to pass despite all that, you can, too. My close friends know that I developed a rather funny mentality to ease the jitters as the boards drew nearer. I knew and claimed it for myself that I would already pass. I viewed the whole PLE as just a “formality”--a means for His plans of me becoming a doctor to manifest in this realm. I believed it so much to the point that I thought that no matter what bloopers and slip-ups I have during the test, I’d still see my name on the list of board passers. I’m not saying you should totally ease up and just have a come-what-may attitude. Again, I’m not the model student you should be following here. What I’m saying is to have faith in yourself, your capabilities, and in God. So chin up, Doc. Just a little more ‘til you get to legally practice with that MD at the end of your name.

[sastielsfandom]

Self Insert Writing Advice

Hi! I personally don't write these types of stories anymore but when I did I used these methods that improved my writing in general and in this particular genre.

These are suggestions and if they're not for you, it's understandable! Just because this worked for me, it doesn't necessarily mean it'll work for you. Let's begin.

Refrain from using Y/N. It's distracting to the reader and oftentimes they read Y/N as the character's name rather than their name.

Try using different nicknames, it allows you to showcase your relationships with other characters and you can give backstories on each nickname. This not only helps establish the reader more but it's easier for the reader to imagine themselves in the story.

Avoid describing the reader's physical traits if you don't have to, it's best to be vague. The same rule for Y/N applies to the use of different traits such as YHC (your hair color). It's just as distracting to the reader. 

Then what should you do?

Instead, describe the personality, not the physicality. It's easier for the reader to imagine it's them when they don't have to mentally correct the hair, eyes, skin color every time they're mentioned. Overall, it helps avoid pulling the reader out of the story.

This next one was kind of difficult in the beginning to make it appear subtle and more seamless. Once you're used to it it's fairly easy and you don't have to think about it. Using gender-neutral pronouns for the reader.

Why? Why shouldn't I just make it she/her or he/him? Do I have to use they/them?

I personally did this because I wanted anyone who read my stories to be able to put themselves into the story. No matter their gender or lack of gender. You can absolutely make your writing as specific as you want, it's your writing, so do you have to do this? No. But I do strongly advise it because it challenges you as a writer, and it lets your readers see themselves.

Be careful with these suggestions you don't want the reader to be so bland that a blank wall can project on it. I'm advising that you focus on the personality of the reader rather than the physicality. Not that you should be as vague as possible for everything, at a certain point it comes off as lazy writing.

Now to put this into action so I'm not just sending you off with some advice and no comparisons. Also, this writing is from 2019, I just took it out of my unpublished work and replaced names:

Tapping my foot along to my music, running through my schedule for the day mentally, a pair of cold hands covered my eyes disrupting my thought process.

There was only one person who ever dared to be that bold knowing they wouldn't have any consequences, Eric.

"Guess who?" He asked, I went along, putting a hand to my chin in a thinking position, humming, hmm...

With a sigh, I shrugged, "I don't know..."

Waiting a second I gasped as dramatically as I could. "A really tall fifth grader?"

His hands dropped, and he looked as if I had betrayed him and his entire lineage. "That was rude."

He attempted to pout and for him being in theater and being a good actor, he couldn't contain his smile that wanted to peak out. Not when he wanted to mirror my smile.

Booping his nose, "Whoever said I was nice?" He swatted my hand away and I thought that was the end of that until he had a look on his face that I knew too well. A mischievous one.

Before I could react he had me in a bear hug, "I don't know but whoever did is a liar," and then booped me back. I couldn't hug him back even if I tried, so I just had to deal with it.

Thankfully, he released me and I simply shook my head at him. 

When the moment stilled and steered back into our more casual interactions Eric nudged me to look at him.

"Yes?" I asked.

"I missed you yesterday." I could tell he was being sincere. I missed him too.

But I saw an opportunity, "Enough to use my name?"

"I use your name all the time Bee." He said it like a fact, the real fact is he is very wrong.

"Nicknames that are all bee-related and bee puns?" I sighed at this man who really seemed to be intrigued by this question, "They don't count as using my real name." I said sighing, you have to break it to him one day, right?

"It totally does."

"No, Eric, it doesn't."

He made that face that clearly says, agree to disagree. "It's still funny."

I tried not to blink fast at his response but I couldn't help it, "The number of people who think we're dating because of Honey, and Beeloved alone..."

He held up a hand that turned into a point and shook his head, "Come on, the Beeloved one is clever and you know it."

"Sure, Eric, sure."

This is just one example, there are many ways to execute this though. Again, it's a suggestion, not a demand. This is simply how I used to expand my stories to a wider audience in a more subtle way than using Y/N and YHC.

[arlakos]

How to design an Actual Chloe Redemption

Ok I really have to do this. I’ve had this on my mind for a while and I gotta do this before I lose track of my thoughts.

For all those who followed my blog, you know I think that the idea that Chloe Bourgeois getting a redemption was a good thing, until Astruc ruined it in the Season 3 finale.

However, I can understand why other people won’t agree with me on that, given Chloe’s previous history, and looking back on previous episodes, its easy to see why. With episodes not even from season 1 such as Frightingale and Stormy Weather 2, as well as bits seen in other eps such as the season 2 finale, its easy to understand why Chloe doesn't deserve to be a hero.

However! I have never given a crap about canon since season 1 and don’t give a crap now! This is why I decided to create a rewrite for Chloe Bourgeois that actually gives a crap about continuity (and making lessons stick) as well as make a version of Queen Bee we can actually like.

So, let's take it back to season 2:

For the most part of season 2, Chloe remains pretty much the same, so the events of Frightingale and all of Chloe’s actions before season 2 happen as normal.

Where the story actually changes though is after the events of Zombizou. After Ms Bustier gives Chloe a hug after the events of the episode, something...changes.

She doesn’t become nice overnight, but she starts to mellow out. She doesn’t take any insults lying down and retains her alpha bitch attitude somewhat, but she no longer goes after anyone, more often sticking to her phone or Sabrina than anything else.

In the Style Queen trilogy, the episode just has Audrey come back, which leaves Chloe somewhat miserable. She tells her mom that Marinette made the hat when Audrey finds it but says nothing else.

The story starts to pick up after the events of Style Queen, where Chloe gets genuinely mad that her Mom would abandon her, but take Marinette with her at the first opportunity. 

Audrey pretty much just call her worthless and a mistake, and Chloe runs of crying.

Cue a scene of Chloe being miserable in school, with some smart alecs taking the chance to insult her for bein mentally destroyed by her mom.

Marinette tries to apologize, but Chloe takes none of it and goes back home.

Chloe finds the Queen Bee Miraculous. With Hawkmoth on hiatus and Ladybug and Cat Noir not needed, Chloe sneaks out to be a hero as Queen Bee, with the help of Pollen.

Couple weeks later Ladybug and Chat find Queen Bee and demand the miraculous back. Being hated by everyone as a hero because everyone agrees with Ladybug, Hawkmoth is tempted to become a villain again and akuamatizes Queen Bee into Queen Wasp.

They manage to revert her back to normal, while Keeping Chloe’s Identitiy hidden from the public, but with Hawkmoth knowing Chloe’s ID, they make her give up the miraculous.

Malediktator is Audrey being a ‘nice parent’ and basically forcing Chloe to come with her to New York to learn some respect, even though she doesn’t want to leave. Cue the celebration, but the party is cut short by Bustier and Marinette berating the people for doing such a thing (even if Marinette still doesn't like Chloe). Then the party is ACTUALLY cut short by Malediktator, who gets stopped with the help of Chloe, Ladybug, and Chat Noir, who doesn’t get turned into a cat this time because screw Astruc and his desire to make Chat Useless.

Chloe starts to mellow out some more after that, learning a couple things from stopping crimes, she becomes - sorta nice. Like, she still gets sassy with people, but she throws some compliments here and there- in a sorta backhanded compliment kinda way. Baby steps guys.

Also, she does tell Sabrina, but no flashlight on the roof.

After Heroes day, Chloe and Sabrina share some biscuits and sushi together (Chloe finds them a bit brittle, but she clamps the thought down, even if the thought to say it is killing her!)

I dont wanna talk about Chameleon

Animaestro is basically an Astruc Self insert OC fanfic so I don’t really count it. Plus Chloe didn’t know Marinette had a crush on Adrien, u w0t m8?

Getting back onto Miraculer, the episode plays out relatively the same, but instead of Lila making up a lie on some secret dance, Sabrina instead just tries to comfort Chloe, saying that they’ll call her next time for sure. So when it happens again for another akuma, Chloe instead pushes away Sabrina. Sabrina runs off crying, and Chloe is tempted to run after her and call her back, but she still feels miserable and mopey, so she refuses.

Chloe gets almost akumatized, but Chloe resists and refuses.

Cue Miraculer appearing. Chloe tells her to snap out of it and even apologizes to her (something she never has done before, at least openly), Miraculer though misreads her words and promises Chloe will be happy when they can play heroes again.

The rest of Miraculer plays as normal. Chloe gives up the Bee Miraculous, though a bit sad about it.

Chloe gets better during the time. In Startrain, because she does not want to sit in the normal carriages, but also doesn't want to stay away from Sabrina, she just decides to purchase the entire first-class carriage for the class. Chloe claims it was because she didn’t want to sit in the economy class seats, although the doesn’t mind the thanks she gets...

(Stormy Weather 2 doesn’t occur. It is literally just a clip episode, which is actually worse than the usual part-good part-bad episodes Astruc shoves out. Chloe not being a villain in the episode is just a bonus for me.)

Now for the actual episode everyone wants to know...the Season 3 finale.

So, for this case, since Hawkmoth was using Lila the entire time in Season 3 to further his plans, it makes more sense for him to make Lila Miracle Queen instead of Chloe. Logically this also makes sense since all of season 3 seemed to focus on Lila and her Lies, yet she makes no appearance in the finale, really?

I do imagine Hawkmoth offering Chloe the miraculous and trying the same spiel as he did before. However, Chloe is having none of it from him of all people, even if she is mad at Ladybug, Plus the man akumatized her parents!

Once she pretends she wants to join him and takes the miraculous, she kicks him in the groin and runs off.

Managing to outrun the wasps, she ends up finding and joining Ladybug and Chat Noir (explaining what happened) and helping them in stopping Miracle Queen (who is Lila in this case) and helps them with stopping Hawkmoth. 

Ladybug starts to respect Chloe a bit more as part of the team, as even when she could have just taken the miraculous and ran off, she still went back to help the heroes, even if she risked not seeing Pollen again.

That way, Lila remains the focus of the season, and not everything about Chloe gets undone in a heartbeat for the sake of a Garden Gnome and his stupid writing.

Also just having a scene of Queen Bee stopping Lila from running off with the miracle box and absolutely slamming her - priceless.

So there you have it! This is my way of fixing Chloe’s character in season 2 and 3 so that it not only makes sense but doesn’t keep shifting Chloe from good to bad for no reason for the sake of the current episode. Tell me what you think!

Also many thanks to @twin-books for again helping me with the redesign!

[nightowlfandom]

ROUND THREE- PROMPT LIST (REQUEST NOW, READ ALL OF THIS)

 So this is the THIRD installment of my “x reader” prompt list. HOORAY! In light of leaving for so long it’s made me realize that I feel dead inside without writing so, I’m gonna do it again and hopefully this time stay. Also since I don’t eat, breathe, sleep, and shit kpop and actually like some other things too, I feel it’s a good opportunity to share how I’d like various anime characters to fuck me up in more ways what one (wink wonk). I will also say I might only do “character x reader” because I am absolute shit at doing ships. It’s just not my thing and plus I love making peoples personal fantasies come true, it is a big hobby of mine. 

Also if you request a character (assuming you’re asking for an anime request)  that is portrayed as a young teenager, then most likely (scratch that, the word I’m thinking of is “absolutely”) he/she will be written in a universe as a young adult/older than 18 because I’m all about legal consent to doing the fun shit either that...or not at all. (I have to make this big because I cannot stress enough how important this rule is and if you can’t comply, then I have every right to reject your request) Don’t argue with me please.

Rules- You may choose up to 5 prompt numbers if you can’t choose, talk to me and we’ll go through it together because I’m here to capture your horny ass vision. (Example- You wanted to request 3, 4, 12, 45, and 23). Please start with telling me which character you’d like me to write for and give me some insight. (Example- You want a J-hope office AU, then explain the preface like hate to love, secret affair, cute office shit. Or let’s say for example you want something Levi Ackerman related and you talked back to him and he don’t like dat so he “punishes you” ;) ). Get it? Also I take kinder asks more often so keep that in mind, I won’t take your request if you seem rude or whatever.  

Before you ask, yes I do AUs. A lot of my entries are in fact AUs and they are actually my preferred method because who doesn’t love a good AU!!?!! But yeah do not be afraid to ask about AUs

So I usually write for k-pop groups, mostly BTS but I’m broadening my horizon sooo ayye so you can request for Got7, Winner, The Rose, Day6, EXO, if you aren’t sure what other groups I write for you can always ask! 

Anime- Attack on Titan, Black Butler, Fairy Tail, Naruto, BNHA, Kageguri, Tokyo Ghoul, Assassination Classroom, Diabolik Lovers, (ESPECIALLY THIS ONE, I freaking love Diabolik Lovers) once again if you aren’t sure, then please ask. These are just examples but I try to reach every aspect.

ANYTHING BY VOLTAGE- Kissed By The Baddest Bidder, Our Two Bedroom Story, Enchanted In The Moonlight, Butler Until Midnight, Scandal In The Spotlight,   PLEASE REQUEST IT BECAUSE AAAAHHHH I LOVE IT. I do not care which game, just tell me which guy from which game and I will make it happen because Voltage Games are a huge part of me. Just tell me which guy from which game.

Now onto the good stuff! (Also please note that some prompts won’t make sense with some characters and the only reason that is is so everyone can find something to attach to who they want) 

So this first part, is going to be what was on the previous prompt, after number 55 will be the new added on stuff just in case any one of my followers recognizes these. 

1- “How miserable must I be before you’re satisfied?”

2- “Guess I’m not cut out for this dating thing, huh?”

3-“Damnit! Do you have any idea how amazing you are?! Stop being so damn insecure”

4- “Don’t argue with me on this!!”

5- “I can’t just be friends with you…I can’t.”

6- “Do you have to be so annoying all the time?”

7- “No, you can not stay here…I don’t care that it’s raining!”

8- “Why can’t you see that I-….that I-”

9- “Stop pretending to be asleep..”

10- “ Could we go four seconds without you being annoying?”

11-“do you not know what the word ‘mine’ means?”

12- “Shhh, wouldn’t want anyone to hear us now would we?”

13- “I dare you to finish that sentence…”

14- “Someone’s a little irritable today…”

15- “We can’t all be a perfect prettyboy popstar!”

16- “You just…you just kissed me!! *Insert freaked out face here*”

17- “We’re only sharing a bed, it isn’t the end of the world.”

18- “Only make that face in front of me.”

19- “If you wanted my attention…all you had to do was ask.”

20- “I’m bored, wanna fuck?”

21- “Can’t you see that I…I…forget it”

22- “…I can’t kiss you the way I want…”

23- “It was foolish of me to think you could ever want a relationship with me…forget it.”

24- “I aim to please…”

25- “When did this topic even come up!”

26- “You’re so boring, haven’t you ever been wild?”

27- “Hm…I like when you do that.”

28- “I’m more than capable of being rough with you babe. You just watch.”

29- “Where the hell did you learn that?!?!”

30-“Well, the boys accidentally…saw that picture you sent…Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

31-“You need to be taught a lesson…”

32- “Shh, wouldn’t want the boys to hear us, now would you?”

33-I don’t understand you sometimes…but I like it.“

34- �� Don’t pretend that wasn’t on purpose…come here.“

35- ” I’m not so happy about doing a duet with you of all people…but could you at least try and not be a..” ( obviously used for kpop requests but this can be modified so don’t worry :) )

36- “Don’t pretend to care when you obviously don’t.”

37- “Am I making you nervous, Y/N?“

38-“I never thought I would see the day you actually take my advice ”

39- "Just admit you want fuck me…if you behave, I might just let you.”

40- “I…I think you’re wonderful…those horrible people you’ve dated…they didn’t deserve you.”

41- “It’s you and me, not us and them. Fuck what they think.”

42- “Oh my gosh, we didn’t…HOLY SHIT WE DID. You tell anyone and there will be one less idol in the world!” 

43- “You’re so quiet…is something wrong?”

44- “Maybe, if you beg, I might….”

45- “Go to sleep, I promise I’ll wake you up.”

46- “This could be more than just another one night stand…”

47- “It’s amazing what the internet will teach you” *casually holding handcuffs*

48- “…you deserve better, someone who cares about you.”

49- “Can’t I do something nice without being suspicious??”

50- “Finally alone…”

51- “Maybe, we could…be boyfriend and girlfriend.?”

52- “You can’t call me cute!”

53- “Have a nice sleep?”

54- “How stupid do you think I am?”

55- “ Are you shy? Around little ol me?”

... 

 56- “Is this how it’s gonna be between us, just fighting all the time?”

57- “You know after all that, you can still look at me and see something worth loving?”

58- “Avoiding me won’t fix your undying love for me, many have tried but all have failed Y/N.”

59- “Me? Self-centered? No no never!”

60- “You are the complete opposite of subtle and it’s amusing.”

61- “No! What are you afraid of?!? Why is is so hard to believe than someone like me could have feelings for you!”

62- “What did they do to you, I won’t ask again....”

63- “I want...to stay with you for as long as possible. Please...let me?”

64- “Even if I have to rip (your enemy’s name) heart out with me bear hands, I will always protect you.”

65- “What? (innocent face) I’m just massaging your shoulders.”

66- “You’re pretty cute for such a clumsy buffoon. Hmm Maybe I’ll keep you!”

67- “Hm, When you put it that way, it makes me sound like a monster.”

68- “ Oh honey, I treat you like a maid because that’s basically all you are.”

69- “Hmmm...turn your body around. Just like that, I wanna try something.” (You all saw this coming and shame on you if you didn’t)

70- “You want me to name all the reasons I love you?....We’d be here forever.”

71- “Oh baby, you’re terrible at hide and seek....but I’ll play along.”

72- “ Oh look, she finally stands up for herself...hmm. I like this side of you.”

73- “The guy you saw....isn’t me...give me a chance to change your mind.”

74-” What? Why are you crying??!! Oh for fu-”

75- “I bully you because it’s fun....no other reason really.”

76- “Why are you so breathtaking god-damnit!”

77- “I know you’ve never....done anything with anyone before...so I’m gonna make damn sure your first time is special!”

78- “ Call me cliche, but you really do look great in the moonlight.”

79- “ What’s this? A sketchbook? You won’t mind if I take a peek, right?”

80- “Shut up! I’m not blushing!”

81- “You look so...inviting all tied up.”

82- “You’re so good at taking orders. I wonder what else you’re good at.”

83- “Okay since when did getting into a fight for your honor become a bad thing?!!?”

84- “What’s the word I’m looking for?....Pet!”

85- “I’ll be the best boyfriend you’ve ever had, I promise!”

86- “ Me? Y-you like me? Y/N, If you’re joking you aren’t really funny y’know.”

87- “That’s pretty bold for something whose only wearing a towel.”

88- “So you didn’t think I’d catch you looking at some other guy right in front of me?!?!’

89- “ Me? A jerk? Hm...I didn’t know you felt that way....I’m-”

90- “Okay stop it already! People are gonna think I’m bullying you if you keep sobbing like that.”

91- “Hm, do you even have friends or is hanging out alone in an empty classroom/room all you do all day?”

92- “How do you expect me to focus when you’re practically begging for me to come over there and show you who you belong to??”

93- “Let’s say...for example...I was the one who left the love letter by your door...what would you say?”

94- “Do you enjoy being bullied by me? Are you a masochist or something?”

95- “ It’s not everyday I let you be in control...enjoy it babe.”

96- “Someone’s been messing with you? Are you gonna tell me who or not?”

97- “Is my heart just some sort of game to you!?!!?”

98- “You’ve got a lot of nerve showing your face around here after our last....interaction.”

99- “Oh don’t stop because of me, you looked so cute dancing around.”

100- “ I didn’t know...you were so talented. You’re amazing.”

101- “ Please never give up, for me, for us...”

102- “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m hugging you.”

103- “If I can eat your cooking every day, I’ll be happy.”

104- “ What can we say....sharing is caring.” (...best paired with threesome requests but haaaayy can be used for anything else.)

105- “ You need to learn some respect...bend over.”

[nctzanne]

Bet. Eric (The Boyz) x Reader

Okay so hello everyone! FIRST IMAGINE, ONE-SHOT, WHATEVER IS CALLED FINALLY UP GUUURL. Yes, it took some time and i just feel like i squeezed my brain for this one. I really really hope you like it.

Dont go too harsh on me, remember im just starting and i need to learn more about how to be a better writer. 

So, about this little story, main characters are Eric from The Boyz and you babies, of course.

Warnings: I ALWAYS tend to write Reader like a really cursing person, so if you dont like it, please tell me when you send your requests. 

//SMUT, FLUFF// 

Enjoy!

━━━━━━ ✿  ❀ ━━━━━ ━━━━━━ ✿  ❀ ━━━━━

Everybody knows how you feel when Eric is around you. And you can swear he feels the same way, at least you can tell by how your relationship is with him Always being so soft, holding hands, telling how much you miss eachother. But that is what friends do sometimes, right?

Hwall laughs loudly at that statement, making you blush almost instantly.

-Please tell me if you see me doing that with Sunwoo, and maybe i’ll believe you- He smiles at you, tilting his head to the side- I’ll prove you that he loves you nuts, i will wait for the perfect opportunity-

And so did he. His plan started with a normal conversation in Hyunjae’s place. Eating fried chicken and watching horror movies with your 12 favorite boys seemed a pretty good atmosphere to be closer to Eric. His arms holding you tight enough so you cant move, your head resting on his neck, fitting perfectly. His smell, sweet like cinnamon, is driving you crazy. You move your eyes towards his face, only seeing it from below. He looked so inmersed in the movie, the TV light making his features pop even more, his sharp jawline tensing because of the scary plot, his mouth slightly open makes you lick your lips. You feel little butterflies in your tummy when he starts rubbing your hips with his thumb. Suddenly, clothes become a huge barrier between his skin and yours.

Jacob’s scream makes you wake up from your daydreaming, while Eric jumps due to his friend’s overreaction. You all burst into laugh. He is not a good company when it comes to seeing those kind of movies.

-Hey, dont laugh at me. I dont have anyone to hug me when im scared- He hugs his pillow, you can see him pouting slightly. You giggle, blushing a little when Eric turns to look at you, you could swear that he can see the pink color of your cheeks.

-That’s right!- Hwall grabs this opportunity to start his beautiful mission, making you and Eric see how much you love eachother. - Y/N and Eric are stuck to eachother like they are glued or something- He points at you, and Eric grabs a pillow to throw it at him, letting go a nervous laugh.

-I bet that you can’t be a day without touching eachother- says Changmin without moving his eyes from the TV’s screen. He doesn’t seem to be playing, actually, he looks very serious.

You gasp too loud, and instantly separate your body from Eric’s, making you feel empty.

-Of course we can- Eric says with a playfull voice. He loved to do this, bet and win- We won’t touch eachother today, and if we win, you will buy icecream for the two of us everytime we want this month-

Wow, so that’s it? That’s how easy it was for him to stop having some kind of physical contact with you? You feel a tiny knot in your throat and you try to swallow it.

-Okay, lets do it- Hwall smiles at you and winks.

━━━━━━✧♛✧━━━━━━

Actually, it was easier than what you thought. Having a good time with Hyunjae and Sunwoo made it all better. While the other ones were playing videogames, the three of you decided to play Jenga.

-Look, look, its going to fall. Im 100% sure- You start doing some mental pressure on Hyunjae, letting go an evil laugh. And you were right.

Sunwoo and you start laughing, throwing your bodies to the floor. Exagerating the situation and seeing Hyunjae’s face makes the moment priceless, and your stomach starts to hurt.

-OKAY, it isnt that big deal. I will eat that chili pepper, BUT YOU CAN’T RECORD IT- Hyunjae says and he walks to the kitchen.

While laughing, you feel a cold finger poking your cheek. You turn around, facing Eric’s little body frame. You can feel how his eyes are checking your whole body, making you shiver. “I’ve never seen Eric looking at me like that, what is wrong?”

-I need to talk to you, just a few seconds. It’s important- His deep voice makes you get up unconsciously from your chair, wanting to grab his hand. But hell no, you just can’t do it. If you lose the bet, it’ll better be by his touch and not yours.

You both walk to the hall that separates Hyunjae’s bedroom from the living room. You gasp too loudly when Eric grabs your wrists with enough strenght to pin you against the wall, making a loud sound. You suddenly become scared that the sound was going to draw the attention of the boys, but you can’t deny that this is giving you an intense and delicious adrenaline

You can see in front of you a whole new Eric, a side of him you’ve never seen. He was looking and you with lust and a pinch of darkness in his eyes, licking his lips. You can compare him to an animal who is about to eat his food, and that food was you.

-I just couldn’t...- Eric is interrumpted by your hands touching the skin covered by his white t-shirt. He shivers, surprised by the courage you had to make the second move. You can feel his constant goosebumps while touching his abdomen, and how his breathing start to become gasps.

You are needy. You need his body close to yours, and now the waiting was killing you. You don’t even care about nothing else but the effects that your hands provoque in Eric’s body.

You can see that he starts to lose his mind, pressing his body harder against yours. You can feel him, the bulge covered by dark brown jeans, almost begging for release. The sudden contact to your stomach makes your pussy start pulsating slowly, feeling your underwear wetter.

-Just kiss me already- you whisper, his face is too close so you can feel his hot breath covering your face. It was in a fast move that he collided his plump lips against yours, without even opening them. It was like a 14 year old’s kiss, on those times when you liked someone but were too innocent to know what kissing was about.

But Eric couldn’t wait any longer, so he slowly started to open his mouth, giving you full access to it. You dont think about it twice and insert your tongue, exploring every corner of his wet cavity, driving you crazy the way he tries to twirl his tongue against yours. You invite him to enter in your mouth and he doesn’t protest, grabbing you lightly by the back of your neck to pull you closer, if it’s even possible.

It didn’t take that long to lose your self-control. But a little side of your brain didn’t want to get caught while making out with Eric.

-Eric, lets go somewhere else- you mumble between the sloppy kisses. He only nods, never breaking the kiss, and pushing you with him towards Hyunjae’s bedroom.

He throws you to the bed, making you fall on your back and bouncing on the mattress as he begins to take out his clothes, not even taking a break. You follow his steps and you can finally feel his skin against yours. This, adding the tongue kisses that he is giving to you in your neck, makes you moan, loudly enough for Eric to listen. He laughs deeply.

-So needy, i like that- it feels like he has changed his voice completely, now is almost like a growl coming out of his throat. You moan again as an agreement.

His hands start to roam all over your body, but skipping all the places you need them to be. You start moving under his touch, desperately trying to get more and more of him.

He understands your intentions and pleases you by kissing your breasts, painfully slow, You arch your back so he can use his whole mouth to make you feel good, and oh my god he knows how to do it. When he bites your left nipple you let go a whimper, that makes him grip your hips tighter and bringing you closer to him.

At the slightest touch of his crotch hidden inside his boxers with you damp underwear, you both sigh and look into eachothers eyes. His sweaty forehead and swollen lips makes you crave him even more, and you give him the signal.

-I just cant wait any longer, please, skip the foreplay. Im ready.- You would be so embarassed if you were lucid enough to hear what you’re saying and how, but fire is burning your weak body and only Eric could make you scape from it, taking you to the clouds.

He rips off your panties, takes his boxers off and without warning, you can feel his dick inside of you, making you bite your lower lip in pain. He groans, resting his head in your chest while you can feel his breath tickling your skin. He is waiting for you to make the first movement so he doesn’t hurt you.

-You feel so fucking tight, Y/N-This makes you tighten even more around his cock, and you feel proud on how his body twirls on response.

When you feel that pleasure takes off all the pain, you begin to rub your hips against Eric’s, making his cock move in circles inside of you. That hits the exact spots you wanted, and you can feel that Eric is enjoying it too.

Between groans, moans, little neck bites and back scratches, he starts pounding on you with no mercy, both of your bodies colliding with eachother making slapping sounds. Oh, everything is so filthy, and it only makes the knot in your stomach grow.

He starts stroking your hair and speaks with an inaudible voice covered by whimpers: -Baby, im coming, please tell me you’re close too-

That nickname doesn’t even let you answer, you just scream his name while collapsing in pleasure, shaking your body and closing your eyes. He chases his own orgasm by watching you fall apart because of him, filling you with his seed and slowing his pace because of the overstimulation.

Now the room is in silence, just the both of you trying to catch some air and looking at eachother without saying a word.

There’s nothing to be said, actually. You just fucked your best friend, and it was the best damn thing that could ever happened. You smile because of your thoughts and he smiles in return, leaving a peck on your lips.

Still inside of you, and realizing the uncomfortable position he was in -in the edge of the bed, almost kneeling on the floor, making his muscles sore- he rests his body by letting it fall against yours, not crushing you of course.

-We just lost the bet- he finally breaks the ice, making you giggle.

-We? You couldn’t keep your hands to yourself- You raise an eyebrow as soon as he looks up at you, with a cocky smile.

-Tell me you didn’t enjoy it. Unless you were screaming my name so i dont forget it and, believe me, I wont- You slap him on his shoulder. Now he seems more Eric than ever, being childish and ruining the best moments.

You stroke his blonde and sweaty hair, forgetting about everything that is going on outside. On how the guys are still watching the movie and the problematic situation that you are into because you decided to fuck in Hyunjae’s bed.

-You don’t know how much i wanted to make you mine, T/N- Eric makes you wake up from your thoughts, blushing instantly.

-I’ve always been yours, Eric. You were just to blind to see it-

Eric answers you by pnly kissing your cheek and smiling like an idiot. Your idiot

And, now you just can admit that you lost the bet. But icecream will never be as sweet as Eric’s lips.

[sherrybaby14]

Take A Bite

This is for Honey-Bee-Holly’s challenge, congrats Doll!

Prompt: “Watch it doll, I just might have ta bite ya.”

Warnings: Smutty,smutty,smut,smut.  Very slim plot.  All consensual.

Pairings:  Alright….I make no apologies. This is MCU/MCU.

A/N:  This is a reader insert. Normally I try my hardest to leave the reader’s features vague, but in this you are blue.  For all intents and purposes, you have the exact same power as X-Men’s Mystique. Your gender is arguably open for interpretation but heavily leans to you being a female!reader. (The smut is all M/F)

Inspiration:  This gif

  Shoulders back, head up, blank look, and powerful walk. If you displayed enough confidence nobody ever asked anything in this building.  

               The pantsuits this chick liked to wear weren’t your favorite, but they were part of the SHIELD getup all the female agents were inclined towards.  

               You rolled your eyes as you stepped in the elevator. Maybe next time you would pose as someone who could enjoy a little femininity in their outfits.  

               The elevator came to a stop at the specified floor and you walked out into the SHIELD branch office inside Stark Tower. The receptionist glanced up at you but didn’t stop as you walked back towards Sharon Carter’s office.  

               You sat down in her chair and flipped her blond hair behind your shoulder.  Of course, her computer was of no use.  You weren’t a tech genius and didn’t have a clue how to hack it.  But one of the great things about organization’s like SHIELD was they were so terrified of being hacked they almost always kept paper copies of the most important documents.  

               After studying the association, the last few years, you began to suspect Carter was higher ranking than she let on.  

               When you pulled open the desk drawer you felt around the hitch at the top and took out the key to the file cabinet.

               You wondered if Director Fury would discipline her if he knew she stashed a spare key in such an obvious spot.  

               You spun around in the chair towards the massive file cabinets. It took a second to pop the key in place and voila, they all opened for you.  

               A smile spread on your face, wishing you had all day to go through every inch of paperwork, but for now you needed to focus. Did they have anything on you? Did they know you existed?

               “Knock knock.” The words were accompanied by two taps on the door.

               You spun and looked up to see Steve Rogers standing in the doorway.  

               “Good morning Sharon, you’re here early.” He crossed his arms as he leaned against the doorframe.

               “It’s going to be a busy day.” You sat up in the chair. “Can I help you with something Captain?”

               You’d surveyed all of them enough to know Steve Rogers was direct and had a packed schedule himself.  

               “No.” He pushed off the door and walked into the office. “Thought I would check in on you, keep some tabs, see what you’re up to.”

               It seemed like his chest was puffed out.

               “And what are you up to Sharon? Cleaning out files?” He walked towards your open drawer. “Is it spring cleaning already Sharon?”

               You didn’t like how he kept using the name of the person you were pretending to be.

               “No sense in maintaining old records.” You smiled and kept your posture perfect, confidence went a long way with everyone. “When I make a big enough pile would you help me carry them to the shredder?”

               You stood up and grabbed Steve’s bicep, well aware the two of them had some pseudo-relationship at some point.  This was far from your first trip inside SHIELD and these people kept tabs on everything.  

               “Sharon you flatter me.” He brushed his fingers to yours. “But I want to help you with more than brawn tasks.  Why don’t you tell me how you’re pulling the files, Sharon, then I can help you sort Sharon?”

               You bit the inside of your mouth and moved your jaw, a tick of your own, not of Sharon Carter’s.  The man was making you nervous.  Were you on their radar? What were they going to do to you when they found out?  You didn’t want to display a crack in your confidence.

               “Perfect.” You nodded. “I could really use the help, but I realized I forgot to grab a coffee.  I think I’m going to head back to the lobby.  Can I bring you back something?”

               “Nonsense.” Steve reached over you, as if he were about to give you a hug, the action almost made you topple back into the chair.

               “What are you…” Before you could get the question out you heard the click of a receiver.  

               Steve stood back up again and handed you the phone.

               “Why don’t you order some? Have it delivered?” He was inches from your face with a huge grin.  “You remember how to do that, don’t you Sharon?”

               You were found out.  There was no doubt.  You were strong but strong enough to take out Captain America?  Your best bet was to find a way out of his line of sight.

               You tried to back out, but your knees hit the chair and you stumbled again.  Steve reached out and grabbed you, supporting you and you steadied yourself.

               “Watch it doll, I just might have ta bite ya.” He tiled his head to the side, his face still displaying the mischievous grin.  

               “Wait…” Your adrenaline started to drop.  This wasn’t right. You weren’t found out.  

               “Who are you?”  You blew a puff of air and put your hands on your hips.

               “What do you mean?” The person wearing Steve Rogers took a step back, losing the grin. “I’m Captain America of course.”

               “Watch it doll? I just might have ta bite ya?” You shook your head. “I’ve interacted with him a few times, he would never talk like that at work.”

               “He uses the name doll all the time.” A corner of Steve’s mouth turned up as he leaned back against the desk. “And who are you? Because Sharon Carter would never wear those heels.”

               “This outfit is an exact copy of one she wore two months ago.” You knew it was silly to get into this debate and had to keep focused. “Obviously you’re not with SHIELD or you would’ve busted me already, so can I get back to work so I can get out of here?”

               “What is it you’re looking for? Maybe I can be of some assistance.” Steve raised his eyebrows and you realized how stupid it was to even think this was the real Captain America.  None of the mannerisms were down.  

               “I work alone.” You tilted your head towards the door. “Either you leave or I will.”

               Someone walked by the outside of the office.

               “Oh hey, you two are here early.” General Rhodes stopped in the doorway. “Did you go to the gym already?”

               “Umm, yes.” Fake Steve nodded.

               Whoever this guy was, he was an amateur and you decided to have some fun with him.

               “Captain Rogers was telling about the time he saved an entire platoon during the war.  It is a fantastic story, the detail he remembers is astounding.”  Now it was your turn to give a mischievous grin.

               “Oh yeah?” Rhodes walked in.

               “It’s a long one though.” You touched Rhodes’ shoulder. “I already heard the first ten minutes and I forgot my coffee.  Captain start over for the General, would you? You’re going to laugh so hard when he gets to the part about the kitten.”  

               “I’ll bite.”  Rhodes leaned against Sharon’s desk. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard a story with a war kitten.”

               “Oh, um it’s not really that great of a story.” Fake Steve started scratching his head.

               You used the opportunity to strut out of the office.  Shoulders back, head up and into the elevator.  

               While intrigued that there was another shifter out there you were more annoyed this morning was a bust.  Plus you didn’t get the chance to close the files cabinet and put away the key, mixing that with Rhodes seeing Sharon could end up problematic if he felt like mentioning seeing her this morning.

               Odds of that were slim, but the open file cabinet would mean moving the key. It wasn’t like you didn’t know where the master one was, but that was going to be a pain in the ass to get.

               You weighed your options while the door to the elevator closed.  Sharon hadn’t done you that well today so as you let out a sigh you changed your form to another powerful blond who wouldn’t raise any flags in Stark Tower.

               Before the elevator moved a bell dinged at the door opened again.  A familiar face stepped on with you. He even had on the signature duster and eye-patch.

               “Ms. Potts.” He nodded his head.

               “Director Fury.” You smoothed out the dress Pepper was wearing, much prefer this to the pantsuit.  

               The door shut and you road down in silence for a few floors.  

               “War kittens?” He folded his arms and looked over at you. “Really?”

               “You ruined my morning, figured it was the least I could do.”

               “Come now Darling, these people don’t even know you exist.  No need to behave so paranoid and search their files.” Fake Fury turned to you. “I, on the other hand, am far too aware of your existence, but I have yet to determine your true identity.”

               “Good.” You tried to fight the smile, but it crept forward. “I plan on keeping it that way.”

               “Who are you?” Fury wasn’t even trying to sound like him. “Tell me. Please.”

               “Someone who is smarter than you.” You let out a little laugh.

               The gruff face looked offended.  

               “Sharon Carter is out of the office today and Pepper Potts is fast asleep from hosting a gala late last night.  Nobody is expecting to see them but it wouldn’t raise any questions if they were spotted.  Steve Rogers and Director Fury are both in the building, so all you’re doing is attracting attention.” You reached out and cupped fake Fury’s face as his mouth hung open.  “There’s an art in impersonation.  One you don’t understand.”  

               The elevator came to a stop on the bottom floor. You walked out, sliding your hand down their cheek in the process.  The morning was starting to pick up as the lobby filled.  You glanced over your shoulder expecting to see a dumbstruck Fury.

               Instead, there was a robust security guard with the same look, his eyes glued to you.  You couldn’t help yourself and gave a wink before turning around, putting on Pepper’s sunglasses and strutting out into the busy New York city streets.

~~~

               Wearing another’s form was like wearing clothes for you, some were more comfortable than others.  When you were alone you preferred your own self.  Since your image could transform with outfits you assumed your true form was as close to being naked as it got, but to you, clothing was just an extension of oneself and you did that often enough.

               So you stayed naked and blue, sitting cross-legged on your couch channel surfing.  It was the stereotypical New York apartment, tiny and expensive, but it was actually yours. That never stopped you from taking vacations as the rich and famous, but here in your loft, you had no problem being yourself.

Besides, if any peeping Tom looked in on you they would probably be more frightened by the blue scales than the nudity.  

               You wondered if fake Steve/Fury was blue too. If you had met under different circumstances you might have asked, but interfering with your business was no way to introduce themselves.  You sighed, giving yourself a mental kick for not closing that file cabinet.  

               The other shifter said SHIELD knew nothing about you though.  You would like to believe the shifter but they were so sloppy.  There was zero chance they gathered any real intel with their method.  You bit the inside of your cheek, confused how they found you out though.  

               A knock on the door broke your thoughts.  You popped up and in a second your scales flipped to make your appearance mimic the extra on the background of the television show you were watching.  She was tall, curvy, dark-skinned with dark brown eyes.  The outfit she wore showcased her breasts and that was exactly what you wanted.

               “Coming.” Your voice changed to mimic hers as well.

               Sometimes when you transformed into a person this beautiful you wondered what you would look like if you were just a person.  Of course, you had your preferred form that felt natural, but there was no way to tell if that was really you or not.  

               You gave up obsessing over that long ago though. You realized you were wearing the heels too and wondered if you were overdoing it for the pizza delivery guy. Then you glanced down and got another look at your breasts. You gave them a squeeze through the gold dress and decided it was worth it.  

               Plastering a fake smile on your face you flipped the black hair behind your shoulders and pushed your tits out further.  This form was hot enough you were going to get that free pizza before you even had to scam the guy.  

               “Well, you got here quick.” You yanked open the door to see a gun pointed between your eyes.  

                The form didn’t matter, you grabbed the wrist and twisted it away.  The assailant walked into your apartment and tried to smash their other arm down on your shoulder.  You stepped out of the way and let them go as you lifted your foot and kicked them in the chest, heel and all.  

                They slammed into your refrigerator with a clink. You readied yourself in a defensive stance and noticed the sound came from metal hitting metal.  

                He lunged at you, but you ducked down while the silver arm missed and through his body forward.  His brown hair swinging as he turned around and lifted his leg to kick you.  There was a black mask across his mouth and smudged liner around his eyes.  

               Your adrenaline flared when you realized you recognized him from your recon work.  It was the Winter Soldier.  The worlds deadliest assassin.  

               The two-second pause cost you as his leg swung down to your ankles, knocking you to the floor with a sweeping motion.  

               His human hand grabbed your throat and he raised his metal had to punch you, but your reflexes kicked in.  You did a kip and found yourself on your feet, then brought your foot down on the back on his neck, slamming him to the ground.

               You ran for the door, knowing escape was your only chance, but before you got it cool metal grabbed the back of your neck and pushed you forward, closing the wooden panel and slamming you against it.  

               His other hand came forward and twisted the lock, keeping you inside your apartment.  You wouldn’t give up though.  Heel and all you curled your leg up and bent the knee before slamming it back into his gut.

               “Ugh.”  He tumbled and grabbed his stomach, maybe heels were a good choice after all.

               You lifted your leg, ready to slam it down on his neck, but his hand jutted out and grabbed your ankle.  He ran forward and pushed your back against the door, effectively making you do a split while standing, one leg on the floor.  

               All this time you were so nervous about the Avengers figuring out who you were you turned a blind eye to Hydra.  No way would you be taken alive by them.  You tried to head butt the Winter Soldier, but he veered left.  

               Your hands were still free and you chopped at his side, knowing the side of your hand could be as powerful as a punch.  

               “Ouch.” He dropped your leg and put pressure on his side.

               Now you had the chance to use your forehead and didn’t hesitate to knock him down.  He stumbled and you brought your foot to his neck, pressing him into the fall so he landed flat on his back.  

               You stood above him with your heel pressed down on his neck, your fists ready for attack.  

               The man looked up at you with a huge grin and started slow clapping.

               “Well done darling.” The assassin pulled his mouth cover down. “You truly are a treasure, but I doubt someone who looks the way you do is interested in a pizza night in.  Why don’t you show me who you really are?”

               Your chest was huffing in and out.  It had been years since you had a fight like this and your endorphins were through the roof. Besides, you had some questions for the other shapeshifter.

               “Show me yours and I’ll show you mine.” You pressed your heel down harder on his neck.

               “I’m impressed you manage to keep your panties on as part of your change.” The fake Winter Soldier tilted his head to look up your gold dress.  

               He was no longer a threat, so you lifted your foot off of him and rolled your eyes as you stood straight.  

               “Of course, if you’re wearing gold maybe you prefer the company of royalty.” King T’Challa popped up from the floor.  

               He walked towards you and you fell back against the door, cursing yourself for not watching the transformation.

               “Would you like to kneel for your king?” The Black Panther leaned forward and put his arms on either side of his head as he looked over you.

               The man was beautiful, and his lips were centimeters from your face. It was your fault you missed his transformation and were intrigued, so you let your image change.

               “I prefer brains and beauty over status and fancy suits.” Your image flipped to the petite Wakandan whose brains barely fit inside her small statute.

               “Wow.” T’Challa moved his face back. “I’m not sure how I feel about a brother-sister combo.”

               You tilted your head to the side and smiled up in your Shuri imitation.

               “Well, what did you have in mind? Outside of breaking into my apartment and attacking me after ruining my workday?” You over exaggerated your blinking.

               In the midst of trying to be cute his form switched and you pressed your head against the door, shocked you missed the change again. He was much faster than you.

               “Maybe the two smartest people in the universe belong together.” Pale eyes looked straight at you since he shrunk with the latest change. “Think of the scientific discoveries.”

               Bruce Banner was never one that you paid too much attention to, but being this close to him, whether it was real or not, made you pause to study. The face was perfect.  

               The imposter used your lapse of judgment to lean forward and press his lips to yours. When was the last time anyone kissed you? Images of being on your own personal missions and using intimate exchanges to gather knowledge excluded.  Someone was actually kissing you.  

               You opened your mouth and invited his tongue to play with yours.  The way he moved into you felt better than expected and you brought your hands around his neck and pulled him in closer while you brought your leg around his waist.  

                His leg came behind you and knocked out one of your knees, causing you to slide down, but his hand was on your back and he lowered you to the floor without making your head smack.  There was no way that was possible given the properties of physics.

               The idea jarred you to reality.  This wasn’t someone kissing you.  This was Bruce Banner kissing Shuri. If he was capable of bending the laws of time and space, he was more powerful than you.  You were intrigued, and wanted to keep this going.

               Your skin flipped again. Now you were much taller, your hair had a grey streak and you made sure your outfit choice came with the signature cloak.

               The change made your partner pull away, but still Dr. Banner looked down at you.

               “Are you a wizard?” You expected him to stop the romantic entanglement now that you were male.  

               Instead, Bruce’s smile grew as he pushed back your fluffy hair.  

               “The way you change is beautiful.” His lips went back to yours.  

               Even in Dr. Strange’s body you found excitement in his touch and let his tongue slide into your mouth.  

               Wearing the suit of a man was too heavy for you. Their extra parts always felt awkward, so your skin flipped again.  This time you let your cheeks turn Scarlett.  

               Fake Bruce pulled away just in time to watch you switch.  

               “I’m not a wizard or a witch either.” Bruce placed a light kiss on your lips.  When he pulled away your eyes widened. Now Hawkeye was above you. “And as much fun as this is, I want to see the real you.”

               His change was too quick.  He wasn’t like you.  Wizard or witch this was coming to another place.  Before you could think of a way to respond his lips were back on yours. This time your interest was too peaked and you rolled over with no resistance.

               You sat up to see Clint Barton underneath you still. You tilted your head to the side and examined him, looking for anything out of the normal.  

               Anytime you took a break it was used against you and Clint’s hands were on Wanda’s shirt.  You rose your arms as he lifted the fabric from your body.  The Scarlet Witch did have fantastic breasts and you had no problem showing them off.  

               Instead of it being a show fake Clint ran his hands up them and they had real feeling.  You tilted your head back as one of his arms went behind you and pulled you forward, bringing his nipple into your mouth.

               Had anyone touched you in this way ever?  Did it matter it wasn’t you?  

               “As beautiful as you are right now, I’m certain the real you is even more charming.” Hawkeye sat up and flipped you over so he was on top of his back. “Put me out of my misery.  Show me.”  

               “I’m nobody.” You were at such odds with your identity it was almost a real answer.

               His eyes danced over you before he moved down and started kissing your neck. You moved your head to give him easier access and wished you hadn’t bothered to transform into anyone wearing clothing.

               You tried to thrust your hips against his, but he pulled away.  Now the face of Sam Wilson looked down at you.  

               “Why be someone when you can be everyone?” He grinned at you with the million-dollar smile only Falcon had.  

               “You’re not playing fair.” You grabbed the bottom of Sam’s shirt and yanked it over his head.  

               The moment gave you the opportunity to change figures again. This time while his shirt shielded his face.  

               “Agent Hill.” Sam bit a lip and glanced down your body. “I’m glad you kept the shirt off, but still not the real you.”

               His hand went to your stomach and snaked down until it got to the top of your pants.  He gripped the waistband and pulled, sending the buttons flying and breaking the zipper in the process.  Your hips picked up from the floor with the movement and he slipped them off.  

               “Regardless of the form, you feel, don’t you?” Falcon ran his hand up one of your bare legs. “This is real, not an illusion?”

               His hands got to the top of your thigh and you let out a gasp when his fingers kept moving. It had been so long since anyone touched you like this.  

               “Even though I’m touching Maria, it is still you who gets the pleasure?”  Sam ran his finger up your slit.

               You moaned, not needing the foreplay.

               “I’d like to meet the person I’m actually touching though.” He pushed his hand back down and a finger circled your entrance.  “Figure out what they really like.”

                “What about you?” You shot up from the floor and put your hand on his shoulder. Rolling so that he was on his back and you were straddling him. “Are you real? Or is this just you messing with my mind?”

                “Oh, I’m real.” A dark haired blue eyed man looked up at you. “They say ladies always go for a guy who can make them laugh.”

               “Thanks for keeping the shirt off.” You dropped your hands to his waist and started to undo the pants. “I hear Scott Lang likes to play with ants.”

                You pushed yourself up and yanked down his pants as your image flipped again.  This time you grinned down at him now in the form of Aunt May.

               “Oh, you are cheeky.” Scott looked up at you with a huge smile. “And as much as I love an older woman and this fantastic body, I’m willing to bet yours is even better.”

                Scott’s hands went to your hips and he pulled you down on top of him.  You reached behind yourself and fisted his cock.  Playing this little game was making you extra horny, regardless of form. It appeared he was enjoying himself as well since he was rock hard.  

               “Tell me, when you change shapes will the size change as well.” You squeezed his dick and licked your lips at the same time.  

               “That piece of anatomy is all mine.” Steve Rogers was now the one you were straddling.  

               He pushed you back a little and pulled his cock forward so that you were right above him.  

               “Maybe we could give these two the love story they never got.” As you lowered yourself onto him you image flipped into Peggy Carter.

               “Ahhh,” you both moaned at the same time as he pushed inside of you and you lowered yourself down at the same time.  

               Steve kept his hands on your hips, but he didn’t take the lead as you started to ride him, rocking and rolling your hips.  

               “I think Cap is a little too gentle for a girl like you.”  An arm wrapped around your waist as Tony Stark sat up, pulling your chest against his. “I’m willing to be you like it when someone else takes control.”

               Tony started flexing underneath you, using his hand to pull your body back and forth at a fast rate.  

               You draped your hands over his shoulder as your clit brushed against him with each movement, the position giving you the ability to grind down on him.  

               “Maybe you deserve someone whose out of this world.” You skin flipped again and this time you pushed Gamora’s forehead against Tony’s.

               “I’m not familiar with this one.” Tony looked surprised, but he didn’t stop moving rocking you up and down while you ground on top of him.

               The pressure was starting to build and you let out a moan.  

               “Then let’s stick to everyone’s favorite.” Again your skin flipped and the bright red curls were in front of your face.

               Tony buried his head in Nat’s chest and started licking your nipples.  It made you pick up the pace as your mouth hung open, the need in your belly growing stronger.

               Woosh! You weren’t sure how he did it, but you found yourself on your back with him buried deep inside of you.

               “I see everything, but I can’t see you.” Vision’s maroon skin was too tempting and you let out a gasp as you pulled him down for a kiss.  

               Vision kept slamming into you and your orgasm was coming.  You tried your hardest to roll your body with his, chasing after the need while you moaned and panted.  

               The movement was enough and the coil in your belly sprung free.  You cried out and through your head back. The pleasure making you lose any sense of focus. You couldn’t hold onto the image of the black widow and your skin fluttered away.

               Your partner grunted and gave a final deep thrust. You felt his cock convulse as your eyes rolled back into your head.  He collapsed on top of you and it took a moment to form any coherent thought.  

               “Beautiful.” The weight above you moved. “The most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.”  

               Your eyes opened and you looked down at your blue skin. It was too late to try and hide, but you didn’t know whether to believe what was in front of you.

               “And you?” If this were his true form it made sense.

               “In the flesh.” The demigod pulled his cock out of you making a reminder of pleasure shoot to your core.  “Oh, we are going to have such fun together love.”

               You didn’t know how to respond, especially when his fingers started tracing your curves.

               “I’ve changed my mind.” Loki leaned over and looked you in the eyes.  “ Why should you be anyone when you can be you?”      

[kinky-miss-quinn]

Amos and Naomi Skip Shore Leave

Reading Time: 10 minutes

Rated: E for either "Everyone" or "Explicit", depending on who you ask. sex, emotion, aggression, light violence.

Story takes place after Eros, before Ganymede.

Synopsis: Amos is lost, figuratively, after Naomi starts spending all of her time with Jim. Neither is feeling up to a night on a pissant astroid visiting brothels, so they stay in to give the Roci some much needed love. Working in confined spaces with an Unleashed Amos is dangerous work, though...

It’s not like it was official “shore leave” or anything. They certainly weren’t fucking soldiers. And this was just some two-bit hunk of rock in Belter space. With their luck the whole station would collapse in their wake anyway, so Amos and Naomi let Jim and Alex have their fun at the brothel for the night while they stayed aboard the Roci.

They had too much work to do on the ship anyway. So as soon as the boys left, they ventured to the midsection of the ship to begin repairs. It was hot and cramped in the compartment they had to work in. A maintenance walkway three feet wide that ran the length of the ship wasn’t the ideal place to spend the day with a brooding Amos. They could stand, but any time they tried to turn, they collided, causing Amos to growl.

His attitude cut deep. Naomi had been missing her one on one time with Amos. He’d been giving her the cold shoulder all week, and while she could handle a puppy-dog pout from most men, this doggy had teeth.

She knew he was likely to rage at her once the dam had broken. But she knew she’d be safe from his wrath. Angry or not, he was still her dog. She cringed thinking about it. She’d lied and betrayed her relationship when she’d claimed otherwise, but it was just too damn weird to think about.

Naomi didn’t know what to say though, so she trudged on, re-enforcing the hull in tense silence.

AMOS’S MIND

Amos was fuming as she worked beside him. He could smell her so distinctly in their confined quarters and all he wanted was for her to hold him as she had before…before Jim.

Personally, he liked Jim. But if Naomi touched him one more time when Amos wasn’t getting any affection he was going to beat Jim to death. It was so simple in Amos’s mind: she could just fuck them both.

For a brief moment, he saw Naomi fucking Jim, himself sitting at attention in a chair nearby, hand furiously pumping his cock, eyes locked on his Goddess as she ignored him.

Amos was torturing himself. He loved the vision so much that he groaned in frustration, uttering a single “shit” under his breath.

Amos had to calm himself down so he changed his daydream to something familiar.

He was imagining Jim’s blood dripping from the corner of the command console, his body broken in half, in fact, when Naomi shifted. All of his work was undone.

CONFUSION

He growled when he wanted to whimper. Let me serve you. She was so warm and soft, and everything he never wanted to be. I’m not lost. I’m not lost, he thought desperately as Naomi flinched away from him again.

Every time she pulled away it felt like she didn’t want to be like him either and until now she’d managed to hide how much his differences disgusted her.

At that moment Amos and Naomi were in dangerous territory. Because right then Amos didn’t believe he was anyone’s dog. Outwardly he seemed mechanical as he inserted rivet after rivet. Inwardly, he was more dangerous than ever.

He was so fucking hard. Every brush of her elbow made his fingers twitch with frustration. But she’d never given permission, and now he felt like he knew why. Like any well-trained dog in front of steak, he waited instead of taking. But he was losing his focus. With no collar, no leash, he didn’t know what to do.

AFTERNOON WOES

Naomi, for all of her empathy and intelligence, sensed only brattiness from Amos. She knew he was hurt that she’d been preoccupied with Jim, and assumed he was jealous that it had evolved into more. He’d seemed more than ok when they’d told him they’d been sleeping together, but she didn’t trust it. There was some piece of the puzzle that she was missing.

She wracked her brain trying to figure out what had Amos so tense while she worked on panel after panel of the hull. After every rivet, she followed with a sort of caulking gun, ensuring that vibration the of the Roci wasn’t going to pop them free. She gave up on figuring him out and kept working.

This wasn’t the place to have this conversation. Amos would need things to throw, and directions to throw them in that wouldn’t hurt Naomi.

So they worked in silence, the tension growing. The hours passed and Naomi’s arms started getting tired. Her mind was wandering to her latest tryst with Jim and she stopped caring about Amos’s growls. Let him fume for a while, she thought as she received a particularly deep growl.

UNEXPECTED

They slid slowly across the narrow hallwayesque perimeter of the ship until Amos was cornered against the far wall. Slowly, they worked their way counter-clockwise from the middle of the bottom, all the way around until they had just the bottom corner to finish. They sat on the floor, knees pressed together, and Amos wanted to die…or kill something.

Naomi reached across him to seal the final few rivets, starting above his head and slowly encroaching on his space more and more. His eyes were wide and wild as she leaned forward across his body. He watched a bead of sweat slowly descend her neck, down to her dark tit and couldn’t look away. As Naomi shifted to another rivet, the bead trembled and fell right into Amos’s outstretched hand.

It was too much. Too tempting. He had to get out.

Amos tried to jump back but there was nowhere to go. Where was his direct nature now, when it could actually save him? His body slammed into the wall and he bounced forward. Before he knew it, he was climbing to his feet, ready to bolt.

Naomi was quicker though, and intentionally blocking his way.

“Stop. Stop! Look at me, Amos! What’s going on?”

He was too far gone to answer. She stood there with her flight suit tied around her waist, just a white sweat-drenched tank-top covering her soft torso. His cock was throbbing and he wanted so many things.

“Answer me, Amos!” Her concerned tone drew him in. This was his Goddess. She couldn’t reject him. All he had to do was go to her, she’d understand.

TOO MUCH FOR AMOS AND NAOMI

He took a step forward, meaning to go to her. But she flinched, stepping back. It was a slight that even Naomi comprehended. It was his turn to flinch. As she stepped forward, trying to amend her betrayal, he whirled, cowering in the corner.

She knelt beside him, her hand hovering over his back. He was so reliable and strong for her that she forgot how broken and young he truly was.

“I’m sorry. I’m not afraid, I swear. Just confused, Amos. Talk to me.”

She let her hand lay upon his back, only slightly hesitating at the low groan and stiffening of his shoulders. As he crouched over his dripping erection, Naomi closed the distance even more, wrapping herself around his back, understanding nothing.

A war raged inside of her dog as she whispered in his ear.

“Do you remember when this used to come so naturally to us? You and me, I mean, just holding each other? What happened, Amos? Why was today to tense?”

How could he possibly answer? He didn’t even know what he wanted. Every time he imagined her disgust his cock twitched, demanding the opportunity to let her see the error of her ways. Part of him wanted to chop it off and offer it as a gift, though. I’d rather chop my dick off than let it offend you would be a nice gift, right?

LOSING IT

All he knew was that he was losing self-control and he’d never forgive himself if he hurt his Goddess. The words all jammed in his throat as he trembled. He needed an anchor. Reaching back, he grabbed Naomi’s hand, tugging it into his arms.

She was patient with him, only rolling her eyes a little bit when he tugged her arm into his “den”, but she feared for him. Only once had she seen him so broken: when she’d first found him. The thought made her hug him tighter, pressing her firm tits into his back.

Naomi felt his whole body spasm when she did it, and her eyebrows drew down as she grew more concerned.

“Come on Amos, let’s go. We’re all done here. We can go talk somewhere else…anywhere else actually…please, Amos.”

She tugged on her arm gently as she finished, and Amos whimpered. He knew he had to let go, but he couldn’t follow her, not like this. The though of being left alone with this desire, confusion, and emptiness was too much for him.

Lightning fast, he spun around, grabbing Naomi by the neck with one hand. She couldn’t go.

“You can’t go. I can’t do it. Please. Please!”

He squeezed, his eyes glazed with fear. No, stop, Goddess! He relaxed his grip so that his hand cupped her jaw, pinning her to the grating gently, thoughts swirling through his head. Her arms scrabbled at his hands as he laid her back. He lowered himself after her, knowing he’d crossed too many lines to count.

He let his head rest on her chest, listening to her thundering heart and released her neck.

“You can’t leave.”, was all he said.

AMOS AND NAOMI: REELING

Naomi could feel his desperation now and she wanted to erase it. She still had no idea what had sparked this insecurity, but even if Amos couldn’t find the words, he was speaking a language she understood: violence.

She no longer feared what he would do next because so long as she let him know she wasn’t leaving, he’d be ok. Naomi hadn’t felt his hard cock yet, though. She didn’t get that his need for her ran deeper than his need for a stand-in conscience.

So she stroked his hair and held him tight as he trembled above her. From his perspective, he’d fucked up massively. The moment he let her up, she was going to run off and tell Jim. Amos would then have to kill Jim, Naomi would leave, and he’d be alone. Again.

HEATED

But his dick was so hard. And his Goddess was beneath him for the first and possibly last time ever. He had to at least get them both off.

Amos was essentially laying on his side between Naomi’s legs, his hips pulled back to keep his cock off of her. His hands were on either side of her, gripping the grating. With a shift of his hips, he let the tip of his dick barely touch her lower thigh.

The pleasure was immediate. She didn’t feel it yet but just knowing that a broken creature like himself had gotten to do it drove him wild. Turning his head to the side, he nuzzled into Naomi’s tits. She gasped underneath him as his teeth tugged at a nipple.

He hadn’t even realized what he was doing. Everything was instinct and desire, and before he knew it he was cupping her pussy through her flight suit. Amos squeezed it as his teeth tugged her nipple. His hips thrust forward without his consent, pressing his full length into Naomi’s thigh for the first time.

She felt every ridge of its thick girth press into her, Amos could tell. Her hands flew up as if to cup it, but stopped at the last moment. He wanted to cry in frustration, but instead, he began slowly humping her leg, groaning around her nipple with each thrust.

He could do this for hours if she’d just let him. But she deserved more. If only she knew what he had to offer…

SATISFYING A GODDESS

Amos kept humping as his eyes rolled up in his head. If felt so good to be this close to Naomi. She deserved so much pleasure. He had so much to offer her. Fearing what would happen if he let her up, though, he pressed his thumb into the material of the flight suit right between her pussy lips.

In time with his own thrusts, he moved his thumb up and down her slit. She was panting beneath him, but so much quieter than the times he’d overheard her with Jim. He had to make her scream. His mind tacked on an ominous one way or another and his cock strained even harder.

Amos picked up the pace of his humping and fingering until he was convinced Naomi was too horny to run away. As quickly as he could, he raised her up, yanked her suit and panties to her knees and tugged her tank top over her head.

Before he’d even fully laid her back again, his mouth was suctioned over her cunt while his arm pinned her below her breasts. He spread her legs over his shoulders and let his tongue wander over her clit. He desperately wanted to just sink his tongue into her pussy, but her pleasure came first.

AMOS AND NAOMI LET GO

Amos stayed on her clit even as Naomi’s hips bucked. He kept his arm firmly in place and used his other to tease the outside of her pussy. His eyes darted to hers, his mouth still locked on her clit, when she let out a whimper.

Fear welled inside of him for a brief moment until he realized she wanted more. With a smirk only he could see, he quickly pressed a finger inside of her dark pussy.

“Amos!” , it came out as a gasp, reverent and shocked.

He needed to hear it again. Desperately. For the rest of his life, it would be the high that he’d chase, but for now, he needed to focus.

With one thrust his finger had been coated in more pussy juice than Amos could have imagined. His mind dreamed of pumping two fingers in and out as hard and fast as he could, but if he made her cum all over his hand he’d never get to experience it for himself.

He knew it was a liberty he had no right to take, but he needed it. Desperately, he looked for a solution. As he contemplated, he sat up, resting Naomi’s thighs over his own. Deep in thought, he unzipped his pants and presented his Goddess with his thick, throbbing dick.

He couldn’t take any chances because he physically couldn’t take no for an answer. Amos grabbed his dick around the base, his eyes on Naomi as he rubbed it against her slit.

AMOS AND NAOMI: DEEP

“You have to ask. Please. Please, just ask for it. I’ll do anything you want, just please, you have to…”

Naomi silenced him with a finger against his lips. She sat up, pressing her forehead into his, her lips so close he could feel each word when she spoke.

“Will you make me cum, please, Amos?”

With a peck on the lips, she laid back, her dripping pussy wide open to Amos. He sat forward, cock in hand, and let it catch ever so slightly on the bottom of her pussy. He hesitated, still not trusting that his Goddess’s pussy was actually going to surround him.

With a growl, he slowly pressed forward. Inch after inch sank inside, until he was balls deep in his Goddess. It felt so fucking right. Like being home. He thrusted upwards into her gspot as he focused on her pleasure. She gasped and Amos lost control. Every smooth wall of her pussy squeezed his cock as he rocked in and out, gaining momentum.

He began fucking her in earnest, lifting her legs higher as he slammed into her warm, perfect pussy. His mouth dropped open when she started squeezing him and he had to hold back the waves of cum ready to explode. He’d gotten permission to make her cum, not permission to blow his load before her.

READY

He was close to the edge though, so he did what any reasonable man would do: He took his thumb, coating it in spit, and slowly pressed it into Naomi’s asshole. He’d lick her perfect body from the inside out if she’d let him, but for now, he’d use just a light fingering to help get her off.

It worked, to say the least. Amos pumped into her so fast that his balls slapped with each thrust, and when he added his thumb to her ass, it was over. Her walls fluttered around him, at first. Soon, she lost control fully. Her mouth tightened into an O and her pussy convulsed and squirted around Amos’s dick.

He pressed his cock as deeply inside of her as he could for a brief moment, gave her two more thrusts and then pulled out. It was barely in time. He came all over the outside of her pussy, his hand firmly guiding each rope of jiss to her cunt.

As the last drop landed on Naomi, he flopped onto his back beside her. It was what he’d needed, but it was more than he could have ever hope for. What would come next, what with Jim still not being murdered and all, he didn’t know. But he knew that “Amos and Naomi” would figure it out.

[thescatterbrainedwriter]

Wish I Found You Sooner

Warnings: none? Well, I mean, hurted Gabriel.

Word Count: uhhh, not sure. Maybe 2,000?

Pairings: Kinda rewrote ‘Bring em Back Alive’ but inserted Olivia in there so no pairs. I don’t do user inserts really ;^;

I have a lot of opportunities to daydream at work and think up stories and scenarios. Since I’ve made a character for Supernatural named Olivia, I have a habit of inserting her in episodes. Here be one. Hope you like 🥔

—

Olivia had been out at the time, she needed to attend to her roost. She was caught unaware in the middle of lunch prep by a prayer from Sam, not too uncommon, but the mention of Gabriel being found and not being in the best shape made her drop a dish she was holding. Her breath caught in her throat when she was told he was covered head to toe in wounds, placed a hand over her heart when it was described that his mouth was sewn shut, nearly fell when she learned his grace was siphoned away and he was tortured for what looked like years. She didn’t realize she started to cry and it all came so fast that she didn’t hear the sudden concerned questions or register the fact she was instantly in the bunker.

Her face was blank, eyes wide and tears streaked her cheeks when Dean and Ketch turned in surprise to face her. “Olivia!” Dean said in alarm taking a few steps toward her. “Where,” was all she could choke out amid shallow and tense breaths. Dean stopped in his tracks when he got a good look at the state she was in. “Olivia,” Ketch cautioned, “he’s in no shape to be seen and neither, it seems, are you to see him.”

“Where,” Olivia said again, her words tinged with authority as she moved just her eyes to look at him. Ketch gave a sympathetic look before stepping aside to point down the corridor of rooms. She wasted no time and briskly walked past him toward the newly occupied room.

Sam had just finished snipping and removing the stitches when she came around the corner. Her sudden whimper at the sight caught his attention and he quickly ushered her out the room. He hushed her as she could only whimper on the verge of tears and hyperventilating trying to get past him. “Shh, Olivia. Olivia stop, no. Look at me, look at me!” He shook her wrenching her attention away from the door and onto him. “Not. Now. He’s been through too much for any kind of visitor.” Olivia sighed with a shaky breath, her eyes desperate and tear soaked as she met his gaze. He gave her a pained look before gently coaxing her back down the hall. “C’mon, you can stay here until he’s settled into the idea he’s safe a little. Give it a day, maybe two.”

Olivia finally let herself relax as she fell against Sam sobbing softly into his shoulder as they walked. Sam supported her as they neared the main room and was surprised to see Dean geared up and ready to go. “What are you doing?” He asked assisting an exhausted Olivia to a near by chair. She nearly collapsed into it and rested against the table in front of her, head in her hands, earning a curious glance from Ketch.

“Getting ready to open the portal.” Dean responds matter of factly.

“I’ll get my gear, give me a minute—“

“No,” Dean interrupts. “I’m going alone. I need you here in case I get stuck to keep an eye on things, especially Gabriel.”

“I can do that,” Olivia adds from the table. She still looks worse for wear but has started to compose herself.

“Not a chance,” Ketch objects, “you are an emotional wreck despite the brave face you’re trying to put on right now.”

“You are not going alone, Dean,” Sam protests.

“He’s not, I’ll go with.” Ketch offers.

“What?” Sam asked taken off guard.

“As I’ve said, Asmodeus will be scouring the world for me so, it’s probably best if I’m not on this world.” Olivia looked at him surprised, wrinkling her nose when he winked at her, as Sam began to protest. “It’s going to be dangerous, angels obeying a Homicidal archangel, demons running rampant, are you sure?”

“I’m all for it. Can’t be much worse than being hunted by a prince of hell after all.” Sam prepared another argument when dean cuts him off. “Alright fine,” Dean said surprising both Sam and Olivia. Sam looks at him angrily. “And why not me?”

“Because, Sam, I care if something were to happen to you but don’t care if he survives or not. In fact, I hope he doesn’t. No offense.” Dean glances over and Ketch just shrugs. “Besides,” Dean turns back to face Sam, “I need you to take care of Gabriel and keep the portal open for me.”

“And, really, I can help care for Gabriel,” Olivia insisted. “Even if it’s just sitting in his room to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself.”

Sam sighs and reluctantly agrees gathering the ingredients for the spell. Olivia walked over to observe, her legs still a little shaky, and stood by Ketch as Sam and Dean sync their watches. “You sure you’re alright, love?” Ketch asks looking down at her. She sighs rolling her eyes at the pet name, “Not completely but, yes. I’m getting there.” They stood in awkward quiet for a minute before Olivia pipes up again. “Look, I may not like you very much but, please be careful. Alright?” She looked up at him with sincerity in her eyes causing Ketch to smirk and raise an eyebrow. “Always am, don’t you worry about me.” Olivia smiled a little before turning her attention back to the boys. “Gabriel sure is lucky to have someone like you concerned about his wellbeing,” he commented quietly watching her.

Olivia walked over to the boys as Dean was preparing to leave. “Dean...” he turned to her just in time to catch her in a hug. “Be careful in there.” He chuckled, “You know me. Careful is my middle name.”

“I mean it,” she said looking up at him. “Make sure you come back.” Dean’s features softened as he looked into her soft eyes. “Alright, I’ll come back.” He said with a smirk. “Stop lookin at me like that,” he scolded Sam when he turned to find him smirking amused at the interaction. Shortly after the rift opens and both Dean and Ketch enter leaving Sam with Olivia and Gabriel.

Olivia made her way back over to the table to sit down as Sam settled back into his routine. They weren’t alone long before Castiel returned. When he noticed the state Olivia was in he became concerned. “What’s wrong?” He asked coming to her side.

“Gabriel’s back,” Sam said coming up behind him.

“What? Gabriel is back?”

“He was taken hostage and sold to Asmodeus. He’s been holed up and tortured since we last saw him.”

“He’s in a real bad state,” Olivia added. “Real bad.” Her eyes started to water remembering how he looked. Castiel put a hand on her shoulder and she reached up to hold it while staring off. “Where’s Dean?” He asked observing her. “He opened a portal to the apocalypse world,” Sam explained. “And he went alone?” Cas asked concerned. “No, Ketch went with him,” Olivia said composing herself again. “He volunteered to go with Dean in an effort to get as far away from Asmodeus as possible.”

“Why would he want to do that?” Cass asked perplexed.

“Because he’s the one who rescued Gabriel,” Sam concluded. Cass looked from Sam to Olivia for confirmation who nodded. “I was just as surprised as you are.” Cass sighed. “Now, you said he was in a bad state. How bad is bad?”

“Well,” Sam said scratching the back of his head trying to think of a coherent way to word it. “Come see for your self.” The three of them made their way to his room, Olivia trailing behind very reluctant to see him in that state again. “I was thinking,” Sam said as they walked, “that the grace left over from performing the spell could help him. Maybe even get his powers back.”

“It’s worth a shot,” Cas agreed. The two turned the corner to enter his darkened room and turned on the light to find Gabriel huddled in a corner. Olivia peeked in and her heart became heavy again. ‘Oh Gabriel....’ she thought to herself. She was so lost in thought that she didn’t register any words spoken but was snapped out of her stupor when Gabriel was yanked onto the bed in an attempt to force feed him his grace. “Hey, hey!” She snapped charging into the room to pull them off him. Gabriel broke free and hid in the opposite corner murmuring fearfully before she could intervene. “Are you serious?!” She scolded them. “After all he’s been through he probably associates his grace with pain!”

Sam looked sheepishly at her, “ That....would explain his reaction to us mentioning we needed it.....” Olivia waves her hand exasperatedly with an irritated sigh. “Ok, out. Go. Now, both of you,” she said ushering them out despite their protests. “No more talk of grace or spells and definitly no mention of Asmodeus. Understood?” Sam and Cas look at each other and nod in agreement. Olivia sighs finally calming herself down again. “My nerves are more frayed than I anticipated....”

“We’re sorry,” Sam apologized. “We just, we need his help and don’t have a lot of time—“

“And we figured forcing his grace back in would fix him—“ Cass added hastily.

“I understand why you did it,” Olivia cut in, “but what got me worked up was that you didn’t think thoroughly.” She looked at them both sadly. “He may be an archangel but, even we are not immune to torture. We behave similarly to humans, just after more abuse than you. Torture affects the soul, you should know that better than anyone Sam.” Sam looked down like a child would after having been caught doing something he shouldn’t have. “We may not have souls like humans but what we are behave a lot like a human soul. Case and point, Cas had to agree to Lucifer possessing his vessel just like Nick did, like you had to, Sam.”

They both looked at their feet shamefully before Cas spoke up. “We’re sorry,” he said apologetically. Olivia’s face softened. “It’s not me you should be apologizing to. But he’s not up for much of anything right now.” She turns to look into the room and at Gabriel still in the corner. “I’ll see if I can get him to open up. And I meant it, no talk of grace around him.” They both nod and turn to go. Olivia lingers in the doorway watching Gabriel who didn’t seem to notice her there. After a while, she leaves to go to find some rags and then to the kitchen to fill a large bowel with warm water. Sam observes her actions curiously. “What are you doing?” He asks. “I’m going to see if I can clean him up a bit,” she said carefully lifting the bowl of water. “I’ll let you know if i need anything or if he says something. Alright?” Sam nods and goes back to what he was doing before.

Carefully, Olivia tiptoed back to the room and paused in the doorway nervous about entering. His appearance still caused her pain and she had to fight to keep her hands steady. Taking a deep breath to steady herself she took a few tentative steps inside. “Gabriel?” She said softly. “It’s me, Olivia. I’m here to clean you up a bit.” She slowly made her way over to him and carefully squatted down placing the bowl of water onto the floor. Kneeling before him she just observed him silently for a short while. “Gabriel, may I see your hand?” She reached out a hand toward him as she sat on the floor. He flinched a bit causing her to draw her hand back. “I’m not here to hurt you. Please, I just want to clean you up.” She held her hand a short ways away from him, his eyes sweeping over it. After a minute he reached a shaky hand out and rested it in hers. She smiled and dipped one of the rags into the water and gently started cleaning his hand.

They sat in silence for a while when Olivia decided to start a conversation, even if it was one sided. “So, I heard you met the Winchesters at a university,” she said, “and were masquerading as a janitor and a trickster? Kinda wish I was there to see it.” She smiled, “Bet you had a lot of fun, huh? Faked your death and everything. Then showing up later, trapping both of them in a time loop? You always were good at that, making pocket dimensions and alternate timelines.” She carefully returned his hand and held out hers for his other one, he complied with her silent request after a brief pause so she could continue cleaning him.

“I think you may have gone a little overboard with that one, don’t you? I do think trapping them in that tv program was inventive, though did you really have to open with a porn program?” She though she heard him wheeze slightly at the mention of that trick causing her to roll her eyes a little. “Honestly, I don’t see why you have such an interest in that. You and humans in general. Dean, mostly.” She shook her head trying to get the thoughts out. “Anyway, as it would seem, your illusions have gotten to the point that you can trick even Lucifer. Quite impressive considering how much he taught us all those times before.” She sighed sadly and the memories bubbling up. She released his other hand and rinsed the rag before turning her attention to his face. He had been staring at nothing in particular the whole time. She scooted forward a little repositioning so she could reach better, moving the bowl carefully with her. “Alright, I’m going to clean your face now. Is that alright?” She held her hand near his face waiting for a reaction. When he didn’t move, she carefully and gently moved to touch him making contact with his chin.

He still stared forward avoiding eye contact as his head turned. “Alright, time to get your face all pretty again,” she said with a smile carefully bringing the cleaned rag to his face. After a few gentle strokes he made eye contact with her, instantly recognizing and registering who it was talking to him and snapping him temporarily out of his stupor. He looked like he was about to cry as he started breathing heavily in panic, grabbed the arm that was nearest his reach, and pulled her close to him so he could rest his head on her shoulder. He whimpered as he clung onto her tightly. Olivia froze for a second before cradling his head with the arm he was holding. Resting her head gently on top of his, she stroked his head trying to comfort him. “Gabriel....” she whispered sadly running her fingers through his hair. They sat silently for a while before Olivia quietly prayed to Castiel. “I need your assistance,” she said snuggling closer to Gabriel in an effort to make him feel safe.

Castiel appeared shortly after and stood surprised seeing them sitting the way they were. “I’m going to be preoccupied for a while,” she said glancing over to him. “Could you please take these rags to clean them and change out the water in the bowl?” Castiel nodded carefully walking over. “Of course,” he said picking up the items. “Pray to me again should you require anything else.”

“I will,” she responded before settling back down again leaving Castiel to exit. “Oh, one other thing,” Castiel paused turning to look at her again. “Sam has the number to ‘Heaven on Earth’. Please ask him to call the house and assure them I’m alright and just attending to an emergency.” Castiel nodded and resumed his exit. She resumed stroking Gabriel’s head gingerly, his grip still tight on her arm. “You can hold on as long as you need to, Gabe. I won’t go anywhere, promise.” She felt his grip loosen slightly and his body relax a bit but his grip was still rather tight and his body firmly against hers.

She didn’t know how long they sat like that when she lifted her head to look at him. “Hey,” she said quietly, “did you want to move onto the bed?” He didn’t respond continuing to sit silently holding her. “Gabriel, please come sit on the bed. It’s more comfortable. I’ll sit up there too, don’t worry.” He took a deep breath but otherwise didn’t react. “Come on,” Olivia insisted as she stood helping him to his feet as well. He grunted in a panicked fashion as she shushed and reassured him. “Shhh, don’t worry, we’re just getting on the bed. I’m not leaving, I’m not. I’m sitting with you. Shhh...” He looked up at her terrified she’d leave but waited for her to take off her boots and situate herself before clinging to her again and calming down once more. “See? Much more comfortable.” She said snuggling close to him again and closing her eyes trying to relax.

A short while passed when she started humming a tune. It wasn’t anything in particular but she could feel Gabriel relax a bit more. She smiled continuing to hum for a long while. “Hey, Gabriel, I need to finish tending to your wounds.” She explained softly. “Your low grace makes you vulnerable to infection. Will you be alright if i go get clean water and rags?” Gabriel didn’t move for a minute but eventually nodded quickly. Olivia kissed the top of his forehead and gingerly removed her arm from his grasp. “It won’t take me long, I’ll be right back.”

He still stared off into space but sighed in response. Olivia briskly left the room and made her way to the linen room for supplies. She couldn’t have been gone for more than 15 or 20 minutes before she heard Castiel call for Sam, a strange inflection in his voice. Olivia quickly put the items she found down and headed for Gabriel’s room not quite able to make out what was being said. Castiel was in the middle of reading when Olivia saw all the writing on the walls. She slowly made her way to the bed and sat next to Gabriel who held onto her arm again though not as tight.

“He goes on for quite a while about the porn stars,” Castiel comments getting to one particular section detailing his stint as a fugitive. Olivia rolled her eyes with a groan and Sam insisted Cass skip that part. “At some point in Monte Carlo,” Cass continues, “he was captured and pawned off to Asmodeus, “For years, I knew nothing but endless torture. Asmodeus, once the weakest of Hell's Princes, grew strong by feeding on my grace.’”Olivia found herself running her thumb slowly over the top of one of Gabriel’s hands, which was held softly by hers, as the last part was read. “He must have been somewhere near by when you and Lucifer had a brief stay in the “Suits de Asmodeus”. She squeezed his hand slightly at the revelation. “You were there when.....I was escorted by.......” her breath hitched. “Gabe I’m so sorry, I didn’t....”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” Sam tried to console. “I don’t think you would have even been able to sense him. Between him being drained and Asmodeus feeding off it, you probably would have gotten your wires crossed if you tried.” Olivia sighed heavily in response but nodded in reluctant agreement resting her head against Gabriel who still stared at nothing.

“I think I can help him come back,” Castiel offered. “Given he was able to write all this, there is a chance he’s still in there.”

“You really think so?” Sam asked

“No, but I can try.”

“Then I’m going to get my rags and clean water to finish washing his wounds.” Olivia said standing. “Give me something I can do at the very least.” She slowly left the room despite Gabriel’s silent protest of her leaving by gripping her hand.

“She does know she can heal his wounds with a touch right?” Sam quietly asks Castiel.

“I think she’s too distraught to,” Castiel surmised. “She could probably heal his mind too, but given her current state that may be more risky than helpful.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Olivia slowly made her way back to the linen room trying to distract herself from the sense of guilt she had. Picking up the clean rags she headed for the kitchen to fill the bowl with fresh warm water. Suddenly she stopped in her tracks and nearly dropped her items when she felt a sudden familiar presence. She hurried back to Gabriel’s room to find him lucid and aware. He didn’t seem to take notice right away as he consumed the left over grace and only caught sight of her out the corner of his eye. He looked straight at her with a look of disbelief that quickly gave way to happiness. “Hey...” she said with a smile nearly in tears again. She stumbled over to him wanting to move faster than her now overly clumsy feet could manage.

“Olivia!” He exclaimed as she crashed into him in a hug nearly toppling them both over.

“You’re alright!”

“Yeah, for the most part I am.” He said looking at her. “Miss me?” She chuckled and made a face making Gabriel smile wide. Cas observed the reunion with a smile before directing his attention to Sam who had taken a call from an unknown person. Through the snippets of responses, they all eventually came to the conclusion that it was Asmodeus. “What is it?” Olivia asked already knowing the answer.

“Asmodeus, he wants Gabriel returned to him,” Sam replied. “He’s threatened to destroy the bunker to get him.” Gabriel begins to panic and grips Olivia hard threatening to leave bruises with his fingers. Sam glances at Castiel before moving toward the door. “I’ll check the bunker’s defenses and see what I can do to fortify them.”

“I’ll stay here,” Castiel says looking back at Olivia and Gabriel.

Gabriel looks Olivia in the eye terrified and beginning to hyperventilate. “I’m not letting him take you,” she declared confidently. “No matter what.”

“Olivia you can’t,” began Gabriel in concern.

“I can and I will.”

“I’ve checked everything,” Sam says returning, “but I don’t know if it’s enough or how long it’ll last.” Just as he finished his sentence the lights go out prompting the red alert lights to come on and the sigils to glow bright red. They all cautiously walk the halls making their way to the main room. Olivia kept close to Gabriel fully prepared to kill anyone attempting to take him away. They made it to the library just as some demons came in, Sam and Castiel easily dispatched them while Olivia took up a defensive position holding one of Gabriel’s hands to keep him behind her. Suddenly Sam and Cas were thrown around prompting Olivia and Gabriel to take a few surprised steps back before noticing Asmodeus at the top of the stairs.

“Those little wards of yours,” he says pompously, “are unable to keep a demon of my caliber out.”

Olivia and Gabriel are apprehended and escorted up the stairs as Asmodeus teases. “I’ve missed you Gabriel, and I hope you enjoyed your little outing for which I’m going to have to punish you rather severely I’m afraid.” Olivia’s anger flared and she wrenched her hand free to stand defiantly in Asmodeus’ face. “And who’s this pretty little thing?” Asmodeus asked grabbing Olivia’s chin and lifting to get a look at her face. “You didn’t tell me you had a friend.”

“Don’t.....touch her.....” Gabriel tried defending still securely restrained.

“I’ll kill you,” Olivia hissed. “You let him go and leave us alone. I’ll only warn you once.”

Asmodeus laughed. “Darlin, do you know who I am?”

“As I recall, the runt prince,” Olivia responded freeing her chin.

“I’m not so much a ‘runt’ anymore,” he said seemingly please with himself.

“And I’m no ordinary angel.”

“Oh I know who you are,” He said with a nod now recognizing her. “You’re Lucifer’s girl. Only angel I ever heard trying to get into hell.” He smiled down at her. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you, seeing as we didn’t get much of a chance last time we met.” They both stared at each other briefly before he broke his gaze to look at Cas and Sam. Olivia took the opportunity to jam her palm into his stomach choking the sentence he was about to say. Her hand began to glow, as did his abdomen, before she slowly dragged her hand up. It glowed so bright his insides could be seen through his clothing and he howled in pain as she moved. Once she got to his neck the glow shone out his open mouth allowing a whisp of Gabriel’s grace to be pulled out. She caught it and held it in her hand keeping it away from him so that he couldn’t reabsorb it as he laughed with labored breath.

“Well now, you’ve only managed to take my most recent dose,” he said gripping her behind her head in order to look her in the eye. “I can assure you it bears no consequence nor hindrance to my performance abilities.”

“Your performance is nothing compared to my experience,” Olivia snapped back. She clenched her fist as it and her eyes glowed a blinding white dispatching the two demons restraining Gabriel.

Asmodeus raised an eyebrow rather impressed by the display. “Perhaps you wouldn’t mind showing me a few tricks?”

“Pass...” she spat through gritted teeth.

“That’s too bad....” Asmodeus sent a shock to her skull causing her to cry out in pain. It lasted for a minute before she lost consciousness.

“Olivia!” Gabriel cried out in despair and concern.

Asmodeus looked her up and down almost hungrily. “I like the spirit this one has,” he commented, “I will enjoy breaking her too.” His gaze became pointed at Gabriel as he sneered. “Hold her for me would you?” He dropped her limp self in Gabriel’s arms before turning his attention back to Sam and Cass. “I have a few loose ends to attend to before we can return home.”

Gabriel frantically tried to wake her stroking her cheek and repeatedly calling her name. “Olivia. Olivia please. Please wake up. Wake up.” His attention on her was broken when he heard Sam and Cass cry out in pain as Asmodeus began killing them slowly and painfully. The last few demons tried pulling him up to drag him out when he finally snapped out of his fearful state and overpowered them, carefully laying Olivia on the floor as he stood to confront Asmodeus.

“Gabriel, what do you think you’re doing?” Asmodeus asked turning to look up at him. “I broke you! You’re too weak to fight me!”

Gabriel, in a flash, healed his wounds before displaying his wings. Asmodeus’ face dropped as he was faced with a now healed and enraged Gabriel resorting to throwing a ball of energy at him. Gabriel batted it away with ease glaring down and the prince. “I’m not weak anymore. And by the way,” he said tilting his head, “I always hated that dumbass suit.” He raised his hand setting Asmodeus on fire burning him and his vessel to ash. Once satisfied he turns his attention to Olivia still unconscious by his feet. Bending down he carefully looks her over before picking her up and carrying her down the stairs. “She’s fine,” Castiel says checking her over. “I don’t know how long she’ll be unconscious but she’s fine.”

Shortly after she was placed on a table her eyes fluttered open and she jolted up drawing her archangel blade as her eyes glowed white. Everyone jumped back in alarm at the unexpected awakening. “Whoa, whoa, hey!” Gabriel yelled trying to get her attention. “Olivia wait, it’s alright! It’s just us! It’s me!” It took her a minute but she eventually registered Gabriel talking to her.

“Gabriel...?” She asked as her eyes stopped glowing. “Where is...? But...” she looked at her blade pointed menacingly outward. “Oh, oh my.... I’m sorry!” She quickly put it away and looked around. “Are you guys alright?”

“Yeah, we’re alright,” Sam replied.

Olivia sighed heavily finally relieved bowing her head and resting it on her knee. Gabriel ran a hand over her back making her look over. “Hey ‘Liv, thanks.” She smiled up at him as he rested his forehead on hers. “I’m glad you’re ok,” She said and hugged him tightly. He hugged her back when Sam cleared his throat.

“Look, we need to talk,” Sam begins as both angels look over at him. “We need your help. Jack and our mom are stuck in an apocalypse world and that version of Michael wants to invade and take over with an army. So, will you help us?”

Gabriel sighs looking back at Olivia, seemingly ignoring the question, and places a palm on her cheek running his thumb slowly across it. “Sorry Sam,” he said looking over “not interested. But I have faith you and your brother will find a way like you did during the apocalypse.”

Castiel takes a step toward him. “Gabriel please,” he pleads.

“No, I don’t want any part of this. Not back when the apocalypse was going down and definitely not now.”

“Gabe...” Olivia pleaded softly. He looked solemnly at her. “I’m sorry, ‘Liv. I’m not a fighter. You know that.” He turns to look at Sam and Cas. “Good luck boys.” He says before disappearing. They all stood in silence for a few minutes before Olivia piped up. “Use my grace,” she offered drawing her archangel blade again. “If Gabriel won’t help then I will. Use however much you need.” She held out her hand offering the blade to Sam. “No,” he said refusing. “No, I can’t take your grace.”

“Sam, please. This is the only option we really have right now. Besides, my grace recharges much faster in comparison. It would hardly make an impact.”

“No, look, we’re not doing anything until Dean comes back anyway. We’ll....” Sam scratches the back of his neck. “We’ll consider that as ‘plan b’,” Castiel proposed. “You’re the closest to a full powered Archangel so if we need, you could provide some backup.” Olivia sighed giving a small smile. “Fine, but you better use mine if you’re left with no other option. No trying to weasel out.” She pointed a finger at both of them. Sam chuckled putting his hands up. “Alright, alright. I promise.” Olivia crossed her arms with a smirk before Dean crashed through the portal just before it closed.

“Hey, where’s mom and Jack?” Sam asks approaching. “They’re not with Michael anymore,” Dean explained with a grunt standing up. “Welcome back to you too.” Sam smirked a little with a slight laugh. “Ketch stayed behind with Charlie to try and find them.” Same gives a quizzical look upon hearing the name. “Yeah, they have a Charlie.” Dean looks around to find the bunker in disarray.

“Asmodeus payed a visit,” Castiel explained. “Gabriel killed him.”

“Wait, Gabriel? Then where is he?”

“He left.” Said Sam. “We asked if he would help with Michael and Jack but, he uh....said no.”

“We also used the last of his grace to return his powers,” Castiel reluctantly added.

Dean had been getting more and more frustrated as he paced around silently before tossing papers and books across the room. “Dammit, I should never have come back then!” He yelled. “Every time....” his voice cracked. “Every time we get close it all falls apart......”

“We will find Gabriel again,” Castiel reassured.

“And if we don’t?” Dean snapped. “We don’t have time to wait!”

“If we don’t then you use my grace,” Olivia responded walking over. “I insist.”

“No, no we’re not using your grace.”

“Dean...”

“No! You said yourself you were called a failed archangel. We don’t even know if your grace will work.” Olivia looked at him a little hurt. She understood his reservations though, she couldn’t blame him. She should have been used to it by now given all the disapproving looks she got back in heaven and how often she was moved around. “I was never demoted,” she said quietly, “just labeled failed. I understand your apprehension though. Many angels felt the same I suppose.” Dean sighed realizing how he may have come across. “Olivia I didn’t....”

“No need to apologize Dean,” Olivia said softly. “I understand. You desperately want your mom and Jack back, and this set back is devastating to come back to. You’re angry, and it’s from my experience anger has a tendency to cause people to say things they may not intend to or not in the way they want to.” She sits next to him placing a hand on his shoulder. He looks over, tears welling in his eyes. “I’ll help you find him again, but please, use my grace if we can’t. It won’t hurt to try.” Dean sighs heavy with sadness. “Alright. Alright, we’ll give it a try if we have to. But not until we have to.”

Olivia smiles a little. “Deal.”

[onepumpofsyrup]

ON THREE, QUIETLY II Cha Hakyeon II Part 4

On Three, Quietly // Cha Hakyeon // Part 4

VIXX: N

Pairing : N x Reader

Genre : Fluff, Angst, Humor, Romance

Words :�� 1.5k+

Summary : Trouble comes and goes for every idol. At times its best to combat it with a well minded publicist. VIXX though, hate their new publicists. She’s bossy, nosey, and seems to care more about her paycheck than them. Her only goal is to prove them wrong. Their goal is for Hakyeon to seduce her into leaving.

(A/N)This story is another huge ass thank you to all of my followers.

Part 4

He had a huge problem. One he hadn’t ever imagined happening. He was in control of his life. He didn’t have time to develop feelings for anyone. It just wasn’t in the cards for him at this time. He had the group to lead. Fans to make happy. Parents to care for. Not to mention his upcoming military enlistment. 

But yet.

You stubbornly wouldn’t leave his mind. 

For the last 3 months that you had been with them, every day his thoughts consisted of you. On days you didn’t see them, his thoughts were of visiting your office. Taking time out of his schedule to annoy you, bother you, talk to you.

Anything for attention from you. He found himself becoming protective when the boys would tease you. Quickly coming to hate the plans he and the others had made. You’d become his drive, in such a sneaky way that he had barely noticed it.

He wanted it to annoy him.

He wanted to push it back and pretend it wasn’t happening.

But it had, and he was powerless to fight it.

He’d fallen in love with you.

And he feared you learning of his plans to use your feelings for revenge.

He didn’t even know if you felt similarly.

He hoped...no he prayed that you felt the same.

In the end of all of this.

From the beginning of planning for you to fail and leave them.

To getting to know your true character.

It was him that had fallen. If she finds out too soon...I’ll never have a chance with her.

But if she finds out after she’ll leave me.

Honestly, I’m fucked.

Either way I lose.

I’m stupid.

I’m so freaking stupid.

Why did I do this to myself?

Have I always had this little of self control? 

I’m stupid.

I’m stupid.

This is dumb.

I’m stupid.

Hakyeon punctuated his last thoughts with a groan, throwing his head back against the couch. 

He was pulled from these thoughts as Jaehwan threw himself into his lap. “What’s up with you? Looking all sad and stupid?” 

He lifted his hand in a simple unconscious move to slap the younger dumb boy.

“Come on. Cheer up,” he jeered, reaching forward to push Hakyeon’s lips into a false smile. “Look alive. Look cute. (Y/N)’s left us alone all week.” 

And that’s why I’m sad!!

...I miss my bossy girl. 

The other boys sat on the couches around him, settling in before looking over to him. “So, what next to get rid of little mama,” Hyuk asked while draping his legs over Hongbin’s. 

Hakyeon sighed, pushing Jaehwan off him as he leaned forward to rest his head in his hands. “I think, I think I’m in love with her.” 

Silence.

And then…

Laughter.

Hakyeon’s eyes flashed over to Taekwoon. Eyebrows furrowing into a deep glare. “And what the hell is so fucking funny?” 

Taekwoon quieted, wiping the little tears from his eyes. “Sorry, nervous reaction. I wasn’t sure how to react so I just started laughing. Not laughing at you. Laughing at the situation. And also the implication that Woon will bury you..” 

Hakyeon gulped at the thought of giant Woon above him as he gently shovels dirt over his body. He groaned loudly, vigorously rubbing his hands over his eyes. “What do I do? What if she doesn’t like me?” 

“I guess we’re giving up on the plan.” Hongbin mumbled to himself. 

“Of course we’re giving up on the plan! She’s proven she’s good at her job! She’s fixed everything for us!” Wonshik crowed proudly.  

“She’s still bossy and annoying.” Hyuk whined. “I tried to go out with some friends and she made me go to bed.”

Hakyeon rolled his eyes at the younger man. “She made you go to bed because it was 2 in the morning and you were drunk.” 

“Poor (Y/N), she’s always having to come in the middle of the night.” Taekwoon interjected, looking genuinely apologetic.

Wonshik’s entire face lit up, “We should set up a room for her here. So if she has to come in at 2 am she can just sleep over.”

“I volunteer Hakyeon’s bed” Hongbin snickered. 

He smirked, “While I’m fine with that, how about we just be a little nicer to her?”

Jaehwan seemed to be withdrawing from the conversation, guiltily refusing to look the others in the eyes. 

Hakyeon’s own gaze rolled, knowing the younger boy was guilty of something and the loud scream of frustration from the office down the hall confirmed it.

***“

Just breath, calm down, and breath. Use your soothing words.” Woon encouraged, moving his hands up and down in a calming fashion. “Lee Jong Suk. Kim WooBin. Ji Chang Wook. Dong Yong Bae. Choi Seung Hyun. Come on (Y/N) say them with me or you won’t feel any better.” 

Flames licked at your skin, burnishing your complexion with a reddening hue. “Soothing words aren’t going to help me!!! I’m going to kill one of them! I don’t care which one! They were all behind this. WHERE ARE THEY!” Your voice was raw, hurting your throat as you forcefully screamed the words.

You strained to pull away from Minhee’s grasp but her arms around your arms and waist were like a vise, locked tight. A “calming hug” she’d called it. An annoying amount of affection.

Hakyeon pushed his way into the office. Moving to stand in front of you he placed his hands upon your shoulders, looking you over for any injury. “I heard you scream, are you okay?” 

“Dude, bad idea. She’s not in the mood to be touched.” Minhee warned, using her hold on you to pull you back from him. 

“You’re touching me.” You sneered, again pulling from her hold.

She cuddled into you closer, smiling, “I’m giving you a calming love hug.” 

“Calming words, (Y/N), don’t forget your calming words. Ji Chang Wook. Kim Woo Bin.” Woon began again. 

“Ji Chang Wook...Ji Chang Wook...JI CHANG WOOK WOULDN’T HIRE AN ACTOR TO STAND OUTSIDE MY WINDOW LIKE A MONSTER ALL NIGHT!!!! I thought I was going to die! What if he had been shady? What if he had used the opportunity to hurt me! Do you hate me so much that you’d put me in a situation like that? What is wrong with you?” The words hurt to be spoken, ripping at your sore throat.

You’d screamed repeatedly that night, each and every time the actor knocked on your windows, doors, every time you saw him, harming your vocal chords. You’d whimpered while hiding in the back of your closet, terrified that the situation was real. Waiting, and praying the police would arrive before something horrible happened. And then, arriving at work, to find your desktop had been changed to a picture of the actor...it was like experiencing the entire situation all over again. 

The other boys had gathered outside the door, along with a few members of your team. They peered in with concern. Very rarely had they seen your professionalism break.

“I’m sorry…” Jaehwan’s admittance of guilt was quiet, nearly unheard to you. “I hired him. He was only supposed to stand outside your window for a few minutes. I only asked him to scare you. I didn’t think he’d go that far.” 

Tears filled your eyes, exhaustion fully settling in. Knees buckling you’d relaxed into Minhee’s hold. They’d thoroughly exhausted you. You’d foolishly assumed that you had finally won their trust and respect.How stupid I’d been.

No matter how hard I work.

No matter how much I do.

I will always be a joke to them. It pained you to look at Hakyeon. Wishing he didn’t need to be a part of this. You’d felt yourself growing close to him. Enjoying the times he’d come to visit you. Lapping up the attention he’d give you. You’d come up with excuse after excuse to insert yourself into his schedule, just for a chance of a few minutes with him. He’d quickly become something to depend on and adore. And you were a joke. 

A sigh left your lips. “You guys seriously suck.”

Hakyeon took your hand in his own, rubbing his thumb across the top of it. “I’m sorry I let this happen. He didn’t mean any harm by it. Please forgive him.”

Exasperated, you tossed your hands into the air before walking towards the door to your office.I’m getting a hotel room.

I’m moving out of that damn house.

I’m never telling anyone where I live.

And I’m never talking to Jaehwan again.Pulling your phone from your pocket, you sent out a quick email to your staff, announcing that Minhee and Woon would be in charge for the next week as you were going on vacation. 

“I’m taking a vacation. I do not want to be bothered by ANYONE. I will not be staying at my house. I will not be available for contact. If there are any problems, Minhee and Woon will handle it. Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear.” The final words were punctuated while looking directly at the 6 boys that had become the bane of your existence. 

They nodded guiltily as Hakyeon watched you with an expression that you couldn’t place, and currently, you didn’t care to. 

***

[ineffablefool]

Some meditations on being a fat human being, in the era of Good Omens series fandom.  Not n//sf/w, really (hi my name is Jack I’m ace and supremely uninterested in sexytimes), but really personal and also long, so I’ll stick it behind a readmore.  I suppose if another fat human being had thoughts they wanted to tack on, they could reblog to do so, but I don’t expect this to be a particularly rebloggable thing.  Just thinkin’ out loud (via clickety fingies).

I have been... okay, more or less, with how my body looks, for a while.  (Minus all the things about it that make me get “she” and “her” and “ma’am” everywhere I go, with exactly three glorious exceptions in the ~4 years since I realized that those weren’t right.  That is a whole ‘nother bucket of bears.)  I’ve been on Tumblr over on my main account since 2013, and the entire time I’ve been immersing myself in fat positivity and in fat activism by wonderful accounts like ok2befat and bigfatscience and thisisthinprivilege.  So I’ve been basically okay. 

It sucks how hard it is to find clothing that I like which doesn’t completely exclude my particular set of proportions.  It sucks that my saint of a boss had to literally fight our HR department to change the company policy on flights for business, because the previous policy would have forced me to fly 18 hours in an economy-class seat much smaller than I am when I visit India in a couple months.  It sucks that my body is still the “oh, is this disgusting thing a dealbreaker for you” question on dating websites, and that it’s still the butt of every third Trump joke.  It sucks.  But I’ve gotten better over the years at the skill of seeing my body as not the problem, but an innocent bystander in everyone else’s bullshit.  Clothing and plane seats and humor don’t spring from the earth to be harvested and consumed raw.  People decide how to make them.  People can decide differently.

Anyway.  I’ve been pretty much okay with Body.  Body’s fine.  It’s a good pal.  It gets me where I need to be, and it lets me run around in little circles pretending to be an airplane when I’m bored.  I spend some time with it in partial states of undress now and then (I’m too much of a germaphobe to ever be a naturist, let’s put it that way), just so I can keep myself familiar with what it really looks like.  Y’know how the horror movie monster is really scary up until they actually show it?  Same thing, except fewer blood squibs.

But here’s all this Good Omens stuff.

A lot of the fandom has embraced the slight pudginess of Michael Sheen’s Aziraphale, and a lot of artists are putting that into their work.  And a blessed wonderful few aren’t stopping there.  They’re drawing Aziraphales that are more than just a tiny bit pudgy, sometimes that are just plain fat, unquestionably, not just “a little larger than the very thin rendition of Crowley” or “wearing a lot of layers” or “the clothes are just cut that way”.  Really, really adorable renditions of fat angels who are clearly loveable and clearly loved because look, the artist drew them together, Crowley is right there and he doesn’t have that look on his face by accident.

(There are book renditions floating around too where people have headcanoned a fatter Aziraphale, but I’m still talking miniseries right now.  Also, there are plenty of sort of... cartoony/stylized/silly renditions out there with fatter Aziraphales, but I’m not really talking about those either.  There’s a sort of area of artwork where the style or the scene being depicted is such that my brain is surprised when any of the characters is fat, because this is a pretty drawing of two people kissing or whatever and therefore obviously they have to both be thin.  Obviously.  Internalized fatphobia nonsense.  But that’s the kind of artwork I’m thinking when I type all these zillions of words.)

And that’s a choice, to say “I’m an artist and I’m going to draw this character who is worth being the recipient of a 6000-year-long love, and that character is fat, and that’s just how it is”.  And to keep doing it in one piece of art after the other.

speremint was the first artist I noticed doing this, drawing an Aziraphale who is loved by Crowley (the sacred apple tree art still cracks me up, poor Crowley) and who is definitely fat and who is adorable, and if you’ve read the notes on any of my fics you know that she singlehandedly changed how I picture my headcanon’d Aziraphale.  Then I discovered that dotstronaut and lonicera-caprifolium and toastedbuckwheat are out there too, giving me lovely art to shove into my eyeballs and extend my lifespan potentially indefinitely.  I bet there’s more I haven’t noticed yet.  I want there to be like a hundred more I haven’t noticed yet.

And this all ticks over into the second half of what’s apparently a manifesto at this point, boy it’s a good thing I’m a fast typist, which is the fact that in addition to being a fat human, I am also romantically and aesthetically attracted to fat humans.  It’s something I’ve pretty much literally had no opportunity to ever express, because in my Real Life I don’t really admit to having feelings per se and also I am... not the type of human who is the recipient of romantic thoughts from others.  Or who would ever act on my own unless the other party said something first.  (Which nobody ever has since 2006, you guys.  Supremely not the recipient of romance over here.)

So there’s this fandom environment where a fat character is being celebrated and loved, and I started writing fanfiction for the first time this century, and all of a sudden there’s a place for me to express feelings that I’ve been sitting on since I finally realized in about 2001 what it was about that one guy in high school that made me want to hug him, even though I also couldn’t stand his attitude.

Going through my fics from oldest to most recent, it is clear that I am getting more and more comfortable with that expression.  It’s getting ridiculous.  At this rate, in three weeks’ time I’m just going to be writing “Aziraphale is fat and beautiful and I just want to cuddle his belly forever” over and over again for five thousand words at a stretch.

But that means Brain is thinking a lot about how Aziraphale is fat, and beautiful, and perfect exactly how he is.  And then Brain looks down at Body and is like “hmm.  Same hat.  ineffablefool is fat too.  Therefore, [insert math lady meme here]”.  And I will be, like, “okay, so if Crowley were to put his hand on Aziraphale’s belly, what would that feel or look like?  How would his internal narration describe it?  Well, there’s a belly right here, let’s do some science.”  And then the thoughts that I start associating with the experience of my own body are completely good thoughts, all of them, because they’re going to be going in Crowley’s head.  And my written Crowley is never going to be anything other than madly in asexual romantic love with my written Aziraphale, and is never going to see him as anything other than perfect, physically, no matter what he looks like.

And it’s just being a really good positive feedback mechanism, I guess is the tl;dr version.  External validation (via art, via others’ fics, via comments on my own fics, btw if you’ve left any of those then you are also helping extend my lifespan, especially the people who come back to comment on each new story, yes I recognize you and I do a little happy dance every time a familiar name pops up, please rejoin me on Monday I’m going to post my dickwheelie letters fic) is all well and good.  But the mental loop of “own body can be used for realistic descriptions of a fat body -> descriptions based on own body are all lovingly positive -> own body is therefore described by self as lovingly positive” is... it’s nice, is what I’m saying.  It’s very nice.  Last week I expressed, out loud in a group of coworkers, my desire that something be more size-inclusive.  Do you even know how many deaths I would once have suffered rather than say something like that in mixed company.  But why shouldn’t I say it!  There’s nothing wrong with my being fat!  In fact, it’s within the realm of possibility to see it as a positive thing, so let’s just all admit that we have eyes and then move on!  Geez!

So those are some of my thoughts on being a fat human being, in the era of Good Omens series fandom.

now if I can just score a hot fat ace Ineffable Significant Other out of this fandom, I’ll be set