#and when one stops they both stop and regroup

[togrowoldinv]

Meeting the Team

Carol Danvers x Female Reader

Carol brings Monica and Kamala home to take refuge for an evening and to meet her wife. Fluff ensues

Note: I was just thinking about Carol having a secret wife and the lovely Monica and Kamala meeting her. Enjoy this one!

Carol Danvers Masterlist, Main Masterlist

You’re stirred from your sleep when you hear the sound of a ship landing near your house. You hope it’s Carol’s.

When you hear the sound of the front door unlocking, you roll out of bed and walk to greet her in the front room.

She’s in her suit but it looks a little worse for wear. Carol catches sight of you and the weight falls off her shoulders.

“Hey sweetheart,” Carol says softly, a smirk rests on her face.

You cross the room quickly and pull her into a hug. She flinches due to her own soreness but keeps hugging you anyways.

“Are you okay?” You ask her, grabbing her face in your hands.

“I’m okay,” she says.

Her eyes are determined. You realize she’s here just for a short time to regroup or gather some information.

“I missed you,” you say.

“I missed you,” Carol replies.

You lean in to kiss her but you stop short when you see two women, or rather one woman and one teenage girl, walk in the door behind her.

“Carol?” You alert her to the presence.

“It’s okay,” Carol says. “We’re- well I guess we’re a team.”

“We are so a team,” the teenage girl says.

Carol tries to hold back a smile but you see it on her face that she likes these teammates. She turns around and holds you by the waist.

“Y/n, this is Kamala and Monica,” Carol says.

“Wait, the Monica?” You ask. The woman’s eyes flash to Carol’s at your words.

“Yeah,” Carol says. “Our powers are entangled.”

“Right, okay. It’s nice to meet you both, come on in and make yourself comfortable,” you say.

They move to sit on the couch. Carol goes to the bathroom to freshen up first.

“What was your name again?” Monica asks you.

“Y/n,” you supply. “I’m Carol’s wife.”

“Oh my god,” Kamala says, mostly to herself.

“What?” You ask.

“Oh, she’s just a fan girl,” Monica explains. “She’ll be writing fanfiction later about Carol having a secret wife.”

You chuckle at the girl’s antics. You can’t blame her for loving Carol enough to want to create new versions of her.

“Carol and I got married a few years ago,” you say. “But we really haven’t been able to spend much time together. Planets need saving and all that.”

“Sounds familiar,” Monica says.

Carol enters the room and sits down next to you with a sigh. You want to ask more about her reuniting with Monica but that’s for another time when it’s just the two of you.

“Do you have powers?” Kamala asks. You realize this girl has a talent for breaking awkward silences.

“I do not,” you say. “Although, wrangling this one in should be considered a power.”

“Wow,” Carol says. “I’m offended.”

“Don’t be, baby,” you say. You kiss her cheek and she tries to hide her blush. “It’s a privilege to love you. Even when you run off to space for months at a time.”

“You could go with me if you want,” Carol shrugs.

“Nope. That’s your world up there. Not mine,” you reply. Carol only smiles. “Are you guys hungry?”

“Starving,” Kamala answers. “I mean no, we’re good.”

“Come with me,” you tell her.

You lead the girl into the kitchen and let her take her pick of food to eat. She settles on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Kamala asks you a few questions about Carol and your relationship. She seems genuinely excited with every answer she receives.

Monica and Carol are in the living room still. You don’t hear much talking, so you make Carol a sandwich and go get her.

“Babe, I made you a sandwich,” you say. “Please eat at least half. I know you haven’t been remembering to eat a lot.”

“I’m fine,” Carol says. “I get enough.”

“Go.” You leave no room for argument. She sighs and goes to the kitchen. That leaves you alone with Monica.

The woman is sitting on the couch. You know from her vantage point that she can see the framed photo of Maria that Carol keeps on the shelf.

“I’m sorry to hear about your mom,” you say, not really knowing what to say.

“Oh, thanks,” she replies.

“You know I think Carol has some more pictures around here somewhere,” you say. “Maybe next time you come by we can look for them.”

“Yeah,” Monica says noncommittally.

“Do you need anything? A drink, food, medicine?” You ask.

“Thank you. I’m okay,” Monica says.

“Are you sure? I can tell Carol is sore so I can imagine you all are,” you say.

“You can tell that about her just from looking at her?”

“From the hug. She flinched,” you explain. “She never admits she’s hurting, but I know she is. Although, I do see a part of her healing. Probably from reuniting with you. She seems happier.”

Monica nods. She knows that this has meant a lot to Carol. It means a lot to her too, but right now she’s still a bit hardened to the idea of being in her presence again.

Carol and Kamala come back into the room before you can say anything else. You help show them where to sleep and then end up back your bedroom with Carol.

She changes into some pajamas and snuggles into bed next to you. You rest your head against her shoulder.

“How long?” You ask her.

“Just until morning,” Carol replies. “I need to fix a part of my ship. And I wanted to see you.”

“How are you doing with this whole Monica thing?”

Carol takes a deep breath. She hasn’t really had time to stop and think about it.

“I’m okay I think,” she says. “I’m good. It’s amazing how she’s grown up to be so wonderful.”

“Yeah? She has powers, that’s insane.”

“I know,” Carol says. “I didn’t know that until I saw her with Fury. She’s really a great person too. I definitely couldn’t keep Kamala as safe without her.”

“What’s the deal with Kamala? She’s a kid who loves you?” You ask, a chuckle escaping from your lips.

“Apparently,” Carol sighs. “But I really don’t feel like I’m a good role model for her. Maybe she’s seeing that in the choices I’ve already had to make in front of her.”

“Hey, you always do your best. Sacrifices are necessary. You know that, baby,” you try to encourage her. “The way that girl looks at you definitely makes me know that she looks up to you.”

Carol kisses your head and rubs a hand over your back. It’s slightly warmer than normal, meaning she’s using her powers to help you relax.

“We need some sleep,” Carol says.

“We do,” you reply. “Hey, don’t let me forget to tell Kamala in the morning about how we met.”

“Oh god, she’s going to write a story about it,” Carol says. “Whatever fanfiction is.”

“It’s fantastic,” you reply.

“You know what it is?”

“Of course, babe.”

“And you’ve read it?” She asks. You nod. “About me?”

“No,” you laugh out. “I don’t need to when I have you already, my love. Although, I do need some new content.”

Carol grins mischievously. She’s sent you countless videos, pictures, and voice memos over the years. But it has been a while since she has done that for you.

“Tell you what, when this thing is over I’m coming back home for a while,” she says. “And we can spend our time doing whatever we want.”

“I’d love that,” you say. “Goodnight, my love.”

“Goodnight, my beautiful wife,” Carol replies.

You kiss her lips for a few minutes before you both feel the weight of sleep fall over you.

When you wake in the morning, you spend a few more hours with Carol, Kamala, and Monica. The goodbye is always hard, but you know Carol will come back to you. She always does.

[cordeliawhohung]

pssst, core! I have wisdom for you!

gaz with a mommy kink.

anon, over n' out.

oh my god.

i'd love to think that he figures out he's got one by accident. especially pornstar!gaz. in the industry, he's usually cast as the more dominant one in the scene, so he doesn't usually get time to explore his more sub side. which is fine, he loves being a dom, but i'm just imagining him filming a breeding kink scene with you. whispering all these nasty things about how he's gonna make you a mama and how he can't wait for you to have his kids. but then he tries to say something along the lines of "yeah, mama?" in response to your brainless moaning, but it comes out as "yeah, mommy?"

both you burst out laughing so hard that the director has to cut and let you guys regroup because it just caught both of you so off guard. it's fine, it's whatever, just a little slip and mix up of terms. Kyle doesn't take it to heart, anyway.

but you do.

the next time the two of you film together and you're cast as the dom, you make sure to work him up nice and good. you're on your knees as he sits on the couch, torturing him as you edge him with your mouth. his head rolls back against the cushions as your tongue laps at his over sensitive and puffy head while he becomes near putty in your hands. he's hardly able to speak a single word, he's so far into subspace it wouldn't make sense anyway.

and though his moans are delicious and spark a fire in you, it's not enough. so when you straddle his shaking hips and rub your cunt along his sensitive cock, you grab his face and force him to look at you. blurry eyes stare up at you as trembling hands grab your waist. he attempts to pull you down on top of him, tries to get you to stop torturing him, yet you only tsk at him.

"ah, ah," you coo. your hips cease their movement which only makes him squirm. "use your words."

"please, doll, need it so bad," he groans. if it wasn't for your grip on his jaw, his forehead would've collided against your chest. "fuck, i've been good, haven't i?"

"doll?" you repeat like the word is bile on your tongue. "i think you forget who you're talking to."

confusion clouds Kyle's eyes as his brows pinch together, but your grin only widens. your lips brush against his while your free hand lines up his cock with your entrance. you allow him to prod against you, but only slightly.

"who are you talking to, baby?" you ask as you try to prod his memory.

"please, mommy," he corrects, voice quiet and shaky.

to reward him, you slowly sink down onto him, but only slightly. it's enough to get his breath to catch in his throat, and you feel his tip jolt inside of you.

"again," you order.

"please mommy!" he says, louder this time. "please! fuck-fuck, mommy, i-"

his babbling only gets worse the further you swallow him, and you groan once your hips are flush with his. Kyle's chest heaves as you start to bounce on him, and you grin at the bright sheen of sweat that glints along his forehead.

"good boy, doing so well for mommy. lay back and relax. i'll take good care of you."

[diejager]

I love your Only Human fics 😭😭 I can’t help but think what Monster AU 141/Kortac would do if their only human got hurt during a mission….

A continuation maybe please?

Only Human pt3

Pairing: Monster 141 + König + Horangi x reader

CW: blood, injury, canon-typical violence, gun violence, flash grenade go boom boom, explosion, tell me off I missed any. wc: 2.4k

Only Human masterlist

previous

They fucked up, they really flicked up. It was a simple mission, simple enough that you were sent with only three operators. Alejandro with his witness, slinked between enemy lines, shooting up and creating chaos once he shifted, his large body ripping through enemy lines like a hot knife through butter. Gaz with his aerial insights, flew over trees and spotted the soldiers you were shooting through and giving pointers to where they split up and where they collected. And finally, Horangi, stalking between the buildings, jumping from shadow to shadow with a slow sway of his tail, pouncing on his prey with the stealth of a tiger. 

Laswell had promised that it was a quick in-and-out op, slipping through the village at night and taking out the leading figure of this hastily-made gang that was blocking the transport route between two important, allied towns. The shared intel was that it was a gang of ragtag rebels, raiding police stations within the mass, overwhelming the officers with their vast numbers of followers. They stole police equipment, vests, guns, batons, and ammunition, using them to power through the lines of officers and breaking through blockades built by the townsfolk. 

While they weren’t trained in military warfare or had prior training with specialised weapons, they had the advantage of numbers, overwhelming any joint forces with their vast numbers of rebels. It was nearly astounding how many people were being paid and supported by Russia's wealthy Ultranationalists wanting to disrupt the trading routes and hurt the opposing team by prying them of a source of gas and material. 

The few joint forces had slimmed down their numbers, leaving Task Force 141 to clean it up and take over their base of operation within the region. You were told that their numbers rounded a skeleton crew of twenty men, twenty-five at most. That’s why Price sent you four for quick and efficient disposal of the enemy. 

That’s what Laswell gave you, the information burned into your mind from habitual memorization to ensure that your team would be prepared, and yet the data was wrong. Gaz had reported twice the promised number, not as well armed as you were warned but their number brought a changing tide to your mission. You wanted to turn back, to regroup and form another plan, but everyone was already in place and calling them back could be as much of a risk of being caught as storming in. 

Perhaps that’s why you were all so careful and conscious of the dangers, moving in two, Alejandro and Horangi in one part and you walking under Gaz’s protective shadow. The initial plan was to box them in, working through both exits to snuff out any runaways and once you entered the compound, Gaz would drop down and lead ahead. 

That was the plan, until, of course, all hell broke loose. It was chaotic, they were trigger-happy and within untrained hands, their guns were as leather as a trained one with how quickly they spent their magazine, cycling through one and spraying the wall you used for hiding. Soap’s wild clean-up would’ve been extremely helpful in a time like this; Ghost’s hungry haze would’ve swallowed them all up, opening up a way for you to pass; and König’s reckless and unpredictable shift that sent him into a wild frenzy while he tore through the base. 

Unfortunately, they were back home, the little base they called their own when you first joined, yet you still had experienced and protective soldiers by your side, all special forces. Gaz led you with a strong hand and clear head, stopping at every corner to look at all sides before moving forward and you watched his back, looking out for any enemy rounding back. 

Your situation would be - at best - organised chaos, made from what you were given at the moment, faced with a group over a dozen times and without backup waiting behind. There were hushed orders and observations sent back and forth between your groups, cautious warnings on your side and growls from the other. Nick had been informed in case of any immediate evacuation and Laswell, of the sudden change in the plan. You did your best with what you had, leaving bleeding corpses in your wake, slumped over the bloodied floor and against the stained walls, but you hadn’t expected the rapid change of shift in the enemy. They weren’t such men with guns and knives, they were trained - albeit sloppy - in ferality and ruthlessness, jumping at you and Gaz without a second thought.

Every lunge was met with a bullet, rifles firing at the advancing numbers holding a gun, a knife or both, leaving you with a graze or scrape, the skin under your clothes bristled and bleeding. They flooded like moths to a flame, one taking the place of a fallen, and two other taking his place. You were pushed back to back, Gaz’s wings fluttering in stress between you, fighting the need to cover you in a protective shield of muscle and feather. 

“We’re compromised,” Gaz hissed into the mic, sending the message to any open coms on your connected line. “Victor-01, moving your way.”

“Copy,” Alejandro huffed.

Gaz tried leading you away, feet moving fast and steady around the halls you had to memorise for this Op. He tried to lead you safely, but they swarmed you like flies, appearing from every corner in an unending flood of shouting, thumping and firing. Gaz was bound to get hit at this rate, with his big wings and broader shoulders. It worried you that he’d take a bullet for you - you knew he would, as would the others - and get dangerously hurt. Through one door was a group waiting for you, gun trained forwards and ready to fire, but they were slow, sloppy, and they lacked the training and reflexes of a specialist. 

You had time to push Gaz through a door and into a room, you hid on both sides, hiding from the straight line of fire. You unclipped a flash from your belt, waving it at him to catch his attention. It did and his lips broke into a grin, wild and electric at your idea. You had him count down the seconds, his fingers lowering until he balled his fist, shaking it as you pulled the pin out and threw it down the hall. Veering away from the door, eyes closed tightly and hands around your ears, the flash grenade blew up with a loud, ear-piercing screech. It sent them into a blind panic, weapons falling from their hands to rub the burning pain in their cornea, ears deaf to your quick-moving steps towards them, down they went, like those behind you. 

Adrenaline pumped erratically through your veins, bubbling and warming your body to an uncomfortable heat that had you sweating under your gear. You turned another corner and you were closer to Alejandro and Horangi’s location, meeting up with them was your current objective, to regroup and take over the base in one group. They were just down the path, behind the sprinting men in jeans and t-shirts holding guns like it was a big, heavy toy. You could see their tense shoulders relax when they caught sight of you, guard still up and cautious, but glad that you were safe. 

“Hunter,” Horangi hissed, his figure trembling as his nose twitched under his mask. He stared at your shoulder, the damp jacket stained with your blood. “You broken?”

“No, the adrenaline’s keeping me going,” you nodded back, trying to soothe his worry. Being the 141’s medic, you knew the benefits of adrenaline, it numbed the pain, the cold and the burns, but once you calmed down, you’d feel every little scratch.

You limped out of the building, body leaning against Horangi for support, his tail curled around your thigh and body tense in a possessive mood. He kept glancing your way, his golden eyes swirling with worry, pupils small and attentive to every wince you made. He moved according to your pain, urging you to put more weight on him when you walked on your bad leg, where a bullet shot straight through your thigh, bleeding through the quickly put gauze you covered it with and wrapped tightly in bandages. You promised them that you’d properly patch yourself up in the helicopter while they watched before you worked on them. 

With your body riding off the adrenaline that kept you going for the past fifteen minutes, you jerked and winced when you walked on your left leg, the white bandage around your thigh staining red on the side. You were sure Horangi and Alejandro could smell your blood, or they'd been able to smell it before you even saw them, the irony tang wafting around them like a haze of their failure. The failure to let you get hurt and unable to properly protect you, you could feel the tenseness in their shoulders, their lowered head at your smile and the jerky movement when they moved around, seemingly pulling themselves back from doing something. 

Nikolai waved at your group, ushering you in from his seat, strapped safely with his headset on and communication clear between everyone. With a short affirm from Alejandro, Nik took off, the bird curving to the left when he turned west, towards the UK. You waited until the flight was stable, flying through the air softly and steadily before you opened up your pack, searching for items to clean and reward your wound until you returned to the infirmary. You checked your tourniquet, tightening it when you saw that it was slightly loose, ripping open the wrapping around your leg, you reapplied the gauze, adding pressure to it to stop it from bleeding even more. 

You winced and hissed under their watchful eyes, between Alejandro and Horangi, their tails swaying and occasionally curling around your forearm. Gaz, however much he’d like to sit beside you, to fuss and worry openly about your wounds, sat across from you, strapped in with his wings spread wide across the seats. 

“Looks rough, Охотник,” Nik called to the back, light glinting off his glasses. 

“Nothing new, Nik, you know that,” you replied through the coms, a lop-sided smile curling the corners of your lips.

He cackled, a full-belly laugh that had all of you smiling in your own ways. Nikolai was rambunctious, loyal and a big bear of a man. He was human, the other human in the Task Force apart from you (Laswell might’ve been the one sending you across the earth and gathering information, but she - regrettably - wasn’t truly a member.). 

“Да! I do!”

When you landed, the rest of the TF was already waiting outside, arms crossed and shoulders tense. It seemed they got the news of your Op, showing their displeasure with deep frowns and deeper glares, none directed at you or the hybrids, it was some sort of self-hatred and anger at the person that gave Laswell the intel, their promise of it being factual and not sending them any updates on the case. Laswell, herself, was fairly mad, her stressed face pulled sombrely down. 

Soap and Rudy rushed to you, voices low and tones raspy, they hovered near your group, fussing about the blood that caked Alejandro’s forehead, a slight graze from a rifle’s butt and other bruises from slamming into obstacles; Gaz’s slight pinch in the back from being slammed into a wall by a bulldozing enemy when he ran out of ammo; Horangi’s ripped sleeves, gashes bleeding lightly from attempts at slashing and stabbing knives by inexperienced hands; but what worried them the most was you, limping and hanging from Horangi’s shoulders. 

Your eyes were hooded, equal parts exhausted and blood lost, placing all of your weight on the Haetae hybrid. While your upper half was unscathed - apart from the slight bruises forming on your skin - your leg, wrapped tightly in a tourniquet and bandages drowned in red. The amount of red would’ve been worrying if they hadn’t known you, but you’ve survived far more dangerous and life-threatening wounds, bouncing back with revenge. As truthful as it was, it didn’t stop them from worrying. You might’ve been more resilient than most - hybrids credited their resilience to their human parent - you didn’t have the healing ability of hybrids or the immortality of spectres. 

“ ‘m fine, Rudy,” you smiled, so bright and reassuring when you were the wounded one. “Nothing a few stitches and rest won’t heal.”

“Si, but-”

“Doesn’t mean we’re not worried, love.”

Like his callsign, he walked in on your little group silently, peering over Rudolfo’s shoulders, his warm, brown hues meeting yours. His voice was strained with concern, croakier than when you left this morning, waving at them. Rodolfo moved over when Ghost brought his hand forward, Horangi passed you to him with careful and tender hands so that you could be brought to the infirmary without having to walk. You hooked your arms around Ghost’s neck, arms crossed lazily over his back and chin propped up on his shoulder. He held you against his chest, one arm under your ass and another carefully tucked under your knees, watching your wounded leg without touching it. 

You looked at Price and Laswell from your perch, their hushed discussion with shrugging shoulders and crossed arms, but neither looked pleased with the outcome of your mission. You blinked owlishly when you couldn’t find König beside them, head turning from side to side to find the 6 '10 Austrian hybrid, but you still couldn’t find him. Just as you were going to ask Ghost where König was, a hand reached out to grip your forearm, thick fingers softly rubbing your strained muscle. You were met with a veiled face when you turned, brilliant, red eyes stared at your wounded thigh in distaste, his mind throwing him into the scene of the moment, turning and ripping the men that dared harm you to pieces, bloodied and unrecognisable parts of a human. 

“Hey, König,” you called out, pulling him back from his violent daydream where his eyes turned crimson, glazed with bloodlust and rage, promising doom. “Do you want to come with us?”

“Ja,” he replied moments later, snapping to your face with blank eyes, now his regular, ice-blue colour. “To the infirmary first and mess all later. You need to eat and rest well to heal quickly, Schnucki.”

“What about the-”

“You need to rest, lovie. Let them deal with the debrief,” Ghost’s voice was stern and commanding, ending whatever protests you had. 

As if to prove his point, he turned to face Price, his head nudging you to look at your captain, the imposing and dominating figure of Price’s horned head, thick, swaying tail and powerful wing. Price replied with a quick nod, curt in a way that shut down any voice, landing the hammer on the gravel with a resounding boom. You sighed, grumbling lowly about them worrying too much about a flesh wound, exaggerating your condition (in your mind) and threatening them with insubordination that had your commanding officers glare your way.

next

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @yeetusspagheetus @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973

[kjupchurch-xx]

The Interview - Tumblr Request from 08/17

As I walked into work, I was stopped by my boss, who informed me that we had a celebrity she needed me to work in for today's segment. Due to the revenue that Deadpool & Wolverine had pulled in, I wasn't shocked when she told me we would be expecting Hugh Jackman to stop in today. Ryan Reynolds was originally coming, but had an emergency with one of his children.

I walked into my dressing room and got myself put together, making sure my button down blouse and black skirt looked flawless. I triple checked my messy up-do and my make-up, fixing it about three times and still not being completely satisfied. 

"He's here, he'll be coming to you in 5." My cameraman said through the door. 

"Okay." I called back before checking myself in the mirror once again. 

I quickly stepped out, seeing Hugh and my boss walking down the hall. Fuck, he's sexy, even at 55. I avoided them, making a beeline for the area the interview would be taking place. I assessed the area, making sure everything was perfect. Due to the last minute setup, there was no script. It would all be 100% ad-libbed. 

"Hugh, this is your interviewer, the phenomenal, miss Kaitlyn." My boss said with a smile, bringing him up to me. 

I smiled, extending my hand to shake his, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Jackman."

He smiled, grabbing my hand and kissing it, "Call me Hugh." He said with an accent. 

My boss smirked, "Do not hold back on Mr. Jackman with your questions. We want this to be a viral interview. Let's break the internet." She said with a wink. 

Hugh and I chuckled as I tried hiding my blush from him kissing my hand, "Understood." We said in unison. 

She walked off, leaving us a minute to ourselves before the camera started rolling. I quickly looked at Hugh, "If I do ask a risque question you're not comfortable with, we can edit it out." I said with a nervous smile. 

He smirked at me, "Nothing's off limits, darling." He said with a wink. 

I chuckled slightly, "Are you sure?"

He nodded, "Let's have some fun." 

I cocked my head at him, in shock. I figured a person with the career he had built would be a bit more reserved. This should be fun. 

As I led him to the two couches we'd be sitting on for the interview, I couldn't help but notice his gaze on my legs and backside when I'd turned back to ask if he was ready to begin. He quickly reverted his gaze to my face as he noticed he'd gotten caught gawking. 

I took a seat on my couch, as he plopped down onto the other couch across from me. My cameraman gave me a nod to let me know we were rolling. 

"Boy, do I have a surprise for you guys today!..." I said enthusiastically towards the camera, "My guest today is none other than Mr. Hugh Jackman from the new film, Deadpool & Wolverine." I said with a wide smile as the camera panned out showing Hugh in the view. 

"How are you, gorgeous?" Hugh asked, looking at me with a smile. 

I giggled, "I'm great, how're you?" 

He smirked, "You know, I'm good... I'm really good, but I'd be even better if you were on this couch with me." His voice sounding a bit flirty. 

I chuckled as he continued, "I'm feelin' a little lonely with Ryan not here." He joked as he patted the seat on the couch beside him. 

I moved from my spot on my couch over to his, "Ready for some juicy questions?" I asked him, wigging my eyebrows playfully. 

He bit his lips, nodding his head slightly, "Do I get to also ask you juicy questions?" 

I smirked, "We'll see. It depends on how satisfied with your answers I am." 

He smiled at me and cockily stated, "Oh babe, I don't doubt I can make you feel satisfied." 

I covered my mouth as it was gaping a bit, which caused him to chuckle. He quickly threw his arm over my shoulder, looking at me, "What's your question?" 

I quickly regrouped myself and asked, "When doing a kissing scene, is it important to make it look realistic or keep it professional?" 

He giggled at me, "Who says I can't do both?" 

"Can you?" I asked, tilting my head to the side. 

"Would you like a demonstration?" He asked, a sly smile on his lips. 

My boss did say we were breaking the internet with this interview. It wasn't televised, meaning everything was not off limits. That always made things interesting. 

I chuckled, "You're not going to kiss me."

He smiled cheekily at me as he leaned towards me, placing one hand on my chin as his other hand rested on my cheek. "The key to a good kissing scene, is you always leave the audience wondering if the physical connection is real." He said lowly as his eyes gazed from my eyes, to my lips, back up towards my eyes as his face got closer to mine. 

I couldn't help myself and began biting my lip in anticipation. I could feel my palms growing sweaty and my core starting to heat up. "You ready, Sweetheart?" He asked with a low voice, barely above a whisper as I slightly nodded for him to continue. Before I could react again, his lips met mine. 

His lips were soft and warm. I felt him slightly nibble on my lower lip as he pulled away. I took a deep breath as a pink blush appeared on my face, "How was that?" He asked cheekily. 

I laughed as I shifted on the couch, "That was...Pretty good. Do you kiss everyone that interviews you?" I asked sarcastically. 

He shook his head, "Only the cute ones." He said matter of factly. 

He answered a few more questions, mostly regarding X-Men, Deadpool & Wolverine, his recent divorce and his life as a father of two now adult children before we went back to the more juicier questions. 

"When is it my turn to ask you a question?" He asked, smiling devilishly. 

I shrugged, "Go ahead." I chuckled. 

He gave me a questioning look before smirking, "So, Miss Kaitlyn, do you know the difference between a French kiss and an Australian kiss?" He asked, trying to sound as if he were going to actually explain something to me rather than make a joke. 

I thought for a moment before shaking my head, "I don't think I've heard of an Australian kiss." 

He raised his brow at me, "Okay. So it's the same thing as your regular French kiss, except in Australia, it's done down under." 

My eyes widened as my jaw hit the floor, which caused him to laugh, "Cat got your tongue, Sweetheart?" He asked playfully as he noticed the shocked look on my face. 

I shook my head, slightly biting my lip, deciding to turn the tables on him. "My turn again." 

He looked at me, proud of his question considering my reaction, "Hit me with it." He said, crossing his arms. 

I smirked at him, "Some people call you Huge instead of Hugh." I stated, he looked at me, giving me a nod wondering where I was going with the question. "Is it because you're huge?" I asked, pursing my lips into a smile. 

He chuckled, clearly surprised by my bold question, "Do you wanna know?" He gave me a cheeky smile. 

I nodded, confidently, "I do wanna know." 

He leaned in closely, I could feel his hot breath on my ear as he whispered, "Meet me in one of the dressing rooms after we wrap."

I chuckled as I looked towards the camera once he pulled away, "I'm not at liberty to say." Then I playfully mouthed, "Huge" at the camera while trying to contain my laughter. 

We went through a few more questions regarding Wolverine & Deadpool, and also Ryan Reynolds before we wrapped the interview. Hugh quickly skipped off to his dressing room as I was stopped by my boss, who was pleased with the interview. 

"I can't believe you got him to kiss you! This is going to go great with our views!" She exclaimed happily. 

I laughed, shaking my head, "I was not expecting that." 

She looked at me, a smirk appearing on her lips, "What did he whisper in your ear about him being huge?" She asked. 

I chuckled, "He said he's a shrimp and you'd be very disappointed." 

She laughed at me, "Bullshit. You're going to fuck him, aren't you?" She asked, furrowing her brows in amusement. 

"Bye, Pam!" I yelled as I walked towards the dressing rooms laughing. 

"I want details! Real details!" She called out, trying to sound stern but failing miserably. 

I walked up to his dressing room door, knocking on the door. Was I supposed to knock or just bust in? Sleeping with my guests was something I'd never done, but ever since the kiss, I knew I wanted more. He was driving me crazy with his little remarks during our interview, and he knew exactly what he was doing. 

The door opened in front of me, it was a smiling Hugh, "Oh, so you do want to know?" He said playfully, amusement dripping from his voice. 

I giggled and decided to play around with him, "I was only coming to thank you for being my guest today." I said sarcastically. 

He moved to the side, motioning for me to come in his dressing room. "You're so welcome, love." He said, sarcasm dripping in his voice. 

 He knew why I was there. He sat down on the lounge that was in the dressing room, kicking his feet up on the ottoman and looked at me, "Join me, I promise I don't bite hard." He smirked. 

I blushed as I sat beside him, "FYI, I don't kiss my interviewers, but you were looking too damn cute." He said, looking at my cleavage. 

I chuckled, "I don't normally kiss the people I'm interviewing, but you're sexy as fuck and I wanted to know if you were a good kisser." 

He smiled cheekily at me before he reached over, pulling me onto his lap so I was straddling his lap. "This what you came to my dressing room for?" He smirked, gazing into my eyes as he gripped my onto my hips tightly. 

I bit my lip, looking at his, "Maybe...Is this why you invited me?" I asked him. 

He giggled as he began unbuttoning my blouse, revealing my black lacy bra. I ran my fingers into his hair as I leaned down, kissing him and helping him discard my blouse. Our kiss was much better than the interview kiss. He sucked on my bottom lip, biting at it with his teeth before his tongue began dancing with mine as his hands explored my breasts. I could fee his excitement growing under me. 

I lifted myself up slightly as I began toying with his belt, he pulled away, mumbling against my lips, "Eager, aren't you?" 

I chuckled, "Research purposes." I said trying to remain serious as he helped me undo his belt, unzip his pants and pull his rather...large member out. I bit my lip as I saw it. He was rock hard and had veins protruding from his shaft. He was above average and deliciously thick. I couldn't decide if I wanted him in my mouth or inside me. 

"Research purposes..." He was becoming increasingly amused by my wit, "Like what you see, baby?" He bit his lip, as he pushed his hips upwards towards me. 

 I licked my lips, still gazing at it. I pushed my thong to the side as I lifted myself over him, sinking down on the length. I could hear him gasp as he entered me, while I gasped at the size that was stretching me perfectly. I felt his hands grip my hips tightly as I began bouncing on him. He moved one hand to my breasts as he pulled my bra down and began nibbling and sucking on my nipples, causing me to whimper as he began pushing his hips upwards to meet my bounces. 

I threw my head back as I ran my fingers through his black hair that was becoming quickly disheveled. "Fuck, you're so tight." He groaned against my breasts. "You ride my cock so well, love." He groaned. 

I could feel myself begin tightening around him as I felt him start to throb inside me. "Shit, I'm gonna cum." I moaned, as I tugged harder on his hair as I sped my bouncing up. 

"Cum all over me, baby." He moaned as he started thrusting his hips harder upwards. 

His words and his accent made me come undone. I could feel the throbbing of his cock, he was almost there. "Get on your knees." He demanded lowly. 

I quickly hopped off of his lap and assumed the position on my knees in front of him. He grabbed himself and sat up from the couch and began stroking in front of me as his moans became louder. Watching him stroke his cock was making me ready to go again. I pulled my bra down further, grabbing my breasts and squeezing them for them. 

He let out one loud groan as he threw his head back and began covering my breasts in his cum. I bit my lip as I watched how much pleasure it brought him. 

After he finished, he quickly stood up and grabbed a towel, handing it to me. "I'm sorry about your blouse." He chuckled. 

I giggled, taking the towel, "Don't be. I'm sure it'll sell on TikTok shop." 

He laughed, rolling his eyes at my humor before pecking my lips. 

[roosterr]

white flag ✹ ch 3

note: (･ω･)

pairing: ghost x gn!reader

wc: 3.5k

no use of y/n reader's callsign is 'stingray'

summary: the 141 goes on your first mission since the fire, and you're forced to face your fear head on. when you fall short and ghost has to save you, your already fragile relationship seems to fall apart at the seams.

warnings: canon-typical violence, angst, pyrophobia, panic attacks, hurt/minimal comfort, argruments, ghost is mean again, reader has a little breakdown

ao3

【prev】 || 【next】

you can do this.

you can do this.

the mantra plays on repeat in your head as you stare holes into the opposite wall of the helo. you can do this, despite the objective being to demolish an enemy facility, which almost certainly meant that there would be fire, which you were certainly not afraid of.

you had to do this because nobody knew, and they couldn't find out. what kind of soldier is afraid of fire? considering all the things you've done, it should be trivial; you've stared down the barrel of a gun more times than you can remember, had a knife to your throat the same amount, and yet the simple thought of being near a fire has your heart beating out of control.

ghost's figure passing in front of you snaps you out of your thoughts, illuminated by the red lights as he stops at the edge of the ramp. the night behind him is foreboding, no stars to be seen and the wind cold against your skin as it rushes into the back of the helo.

"bravo team," his gruff voice cuts through the noise of the wind and the blades, "let's move."

you look across to where soap sits, exchanging a brief nod before you both stand and dutifully follow after your lieutenant. clutching your rifle to your chest with one hand, you use the other to lower the night-vision goggles over your eyes, casting an uneasy green glow over the environment. you keep yourself low as you follow after ghost and soap, making your way quickly to the cover of the treeline.

the facility you were here to demolish was between the three of you and the site gaz and the captain had landed at. the plan was to sweep from opposite sides of the building, planting charges as you go and regrouping in the middle – preferably with minimal enemy interference, but you were expecting them to put up a fight.

ideally, you could be out of the building and far enough away before the charges go off, and your phobia wouldn't be an issue; but that's only if luck was on your side, and lately it's been feeling like it's decidedly not.

your rifle is wedged into the crook of your shoulder as you follow behind soap, listening intently for any signs of movement other than the three of you. goosebumps prickle at your skin even under the many layers of your gear – caused by the temperature or your nerves, you're not sure.

ghost raises his hand in a gesture for you to stop, crouching just before the break in the trees. you follow suit and so does soap, gazing up at the building looming in front of you, a dark shadow against the night sky.

"bravo's in position," ghost says, keeping his voice low, "waitin' on you, alpha."

the radio stays silent. you roll your shoulders to release some of the tension, but you only breath a small sigh of relief when you hear price's voice cut through the static a moment later.

"solid copy," the captain responds, "had some company, let's get this done before they find the bodies."

"affirm. out here." ghost's monotone reply ends the correspondence, and he gestures once more to continue. you make sure to stay low and keep your head on swivel as the three of you creep closer to the large warehouse.

thankfully, you don't run into much trouble as you make your way inside; there's a few stragglers around the perimeter, but they're expertly dispatched with very little commotion.

your entrance is a lone side door, pried open as quietly as possible for the three of you to rush into. you make sure there aren't any hostiles waiting in the shadows before you head towards the support pillars along the centre of the room.

you secure the explosive to the base of the pillar, listening for the faint beep as you arm it, and stand back up to watch as ghost and soap do the same. with the first three charges set, ghost nods at the two of you, a silent affirmation to keep moving forward.

you fall into place behind soap again, the barely-there crunch of gravel under your boots is the only sound as you weave through the warehouse.

passing through another doorway into a smaller room, you fall into place next to ghost as soap takes his other side, the three of you beelining for the load-bearing wall to the north.

you arm the final set of charges with precision, turning to ghost and nodding at his signal to push forward again. the next room was where you'd regroup with gaz and price before heading to the exfil site.

as you're about to round the corner after them, you hear a noise from behind, the way you'd come in. you turn on your heel and raise your gun to look through the sights at where the sound came from, but you don't see any movement as you scan the area.

an uneasy feeling settles in your stomach, but you don't get to voice your concerns to the others before you're thrown to the ground but the force of an explosion.

you're momentarily blinded by your night vision goggles when you pry your eyes open, the heat from the fire washing over you as you push yourself up and stumble backwards a few steps. shoving the goggles away from your eyes, you blink the disorientation away and whip your head around, searching for your teammates. 

you breathe a shaky sigh of relief when you find them brushing themselves off and mostly unharmed; ghost and soap were helping each other up, and gaz was running towards you from the other end of the room while price fired at an unknown threat beyond where you could see.

the panic only sets in when you realise that they're on one side of the fire, and you're alone on the other.

"you've gotta jump through!" gaz shouts to you, his concerned face just about visible through the licks of orange flames between you.

your chest is tight, simply drawing a breath feels like wading through white water, and all of a sudden you're back in your room with black smoke filling your lungs.

"for fucks sake, sting!" a gruff shout echoes around you, but your mind is too foggy to register the words.

the heat on your face is far too much, the sound of your teammates shouting and the blood in your ears, the flickering light if the fire, its all

too

much.

even as you stumble backwards and fall on your arse your gaze is transfixed on the blaze in front of you, it feels impossible to tear your eyes away.

as you feel yourself completely succumbing to your panic, a dark figure cuts through the wall of flame and comes barrelling towards you, his features indistinguishable from the shadows at the corners of your eyes.

you feel him grab the strap on the back of your vest, and he roughly pulls you up to stand on your feet. the stark white of the skull mask fills your vision, tearing your focus away from the flames.

"get up, sergeant!" he growls, and in the back of your mind you register that it's ghost grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking you. "move!"

his hand goes to the strap again and before you can protest he's pulling you along with him, shielding you from the fire as he shoves you through to the other side. 

the sprint back to the helo is a misty blur; one moment you're being dragged along with a knife shoved into your hand, the next you're leaning back against the metal siding and kyle is holding an oxygen mask to your face with an upsettingly worried expression.

you want to cry, but the tears don't come no matter how much you will them to.

ghost doesn't even look at you. he passes by where you're slumped next to gaz, heading straight to the cockpit without so much as a glance. your heart sinks to your stomach as you watch him go, knowing any attempt to talk to him would be futile.

the flight home is unbearably quiet, aside from the sound of the engines and your laboured breathing. eventually the tension leaves your shoulders and you're left with a bone-deep exhaustion that you know you'll be feeling for days after this is done.

when you finally land, ghost is the first down the ramp, again without a hint of acknowledgement to the rest of you. soap jogs to catch up with him as you follow them out, keeping his voice low as he tries to reason with the lieutenant.

they stop a little ways down the runway, and you take the opportunity to catch up to him. johnny shoots you an apprehensive look as you draw a deep, shaky breath, but before you can get a single word out, ghost whips around to face you. 

"what the fuck was that!?" he spits, meeting your eyes with a glare so frantically venomous it sends a twinge of pain through your heart.

"i– i'm sorry, i don't know wh–" you sputter, desperate to explain yourself, but he cuts you off.

"i don't want excuses, sergeant!" he growls, gesturing angrily with his arms as he takes a step closer to you. "you can't just freeze like that in the field!"

"plea–"

"why?!" he's shouting at you now, invading your personal space. "what the fuck happened out there?!" he gets closer again, and all you can see is pure emotion in his eyes, something so raw you can't name it. "you could've died, for fucks sake! we all could've died!"

"ghost, c'mon…" soap places a gentle hand on his shoulder, an attempt to calm him that goes entirely unnoticed as ghost brushes him off. you try to take a step back and put some space between you, but he follows to stay uncomfortably close.

"what then, eh? what if i hadn't been there to come to the rescue?!" he's so close you can feel the heat radiating from him, see the reflection of your distraught expression in his dark eyes. "i can't babysit you every time we go on a mission, sergeant!"

…babysit? is that really what he thought of you?

the words feel like a knife in your chest.

he glowers at you with such intensity you have to squeeze you eyes shut to escape it – and as a desperate attempt to hold back the flood of tears threatening to spill over.

a heavy silence falls over you, more tense than you've ever felt it.

he stares at you, looking straight past you and into your soul, his eyes so intense it makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. over ghost's shoulder, you see price stalking towards the two of you, a stern look creasing his face.

"simon, that's enough!" price commands, grabbing his elbow and pulling him roughly away from you.

now that you have room to breathe, you allow your eyes fall to your boots, but it's no use, the tears have already started rolling down your cheeks. you cover your face with a hand and brush past ghost and the captain, 

"sting–" gaz calls out to you as you march into the building, but you can't face any of them right now – you need to be alone, there's too many eyes on you, it makes your skin crawl.

they know now.

they know you're afraid of fire, there's no way price won't bench you after this. you nearly jeopardised the entire mission – in fact, if it hadn't been for ghost, you probably wouldn't have made it out in one piece.

there's no way he would ever forgive you for such a monumental fuck up.

your vision is foggy through the tears, but the urge to get away is all you need as you push through door after door. you do your best to ignore the stares the other soldiers give you when you rush past them.

their eyes follow you as you go, you feel them burning into your skin, and it only serves to make you feel even worse about the whole ordeal. it was only a matter of time until what happened reaches the rumour mill, and you're not sure you'd be able to stop yourself if one of them decides to bring it up to you.

there has to be somewhere you can go where they won't find you, somewhere you can escape.

in your haste to get away, you end up following wherever your subconscious leads you. you come back to your senses outside again, on the turf behind one of the many buildings on base.

your legs give out and you collapse into the grass, knocking your head against the wall with how hard you throw yourself down. sobs wrack your body as you dig the heels of your palms into your eyes, a desperate attempt to block out the world around you that only leaves your vision scattered.

you fucked up – badly. you're not sure how you're going to recover from the utter humiliation of it all.

if ghost hated you before, you were certain he loathed you now.

to him, this was just another entry on the long list of your mistakes. but to you, not only were you a failure of a soldier, you'd also managed to ruin whatever progress you'd made with getting him to trust you. you don't think you've ever heard ghost so pissed. sure, he's yelled at you before, but to experience such unfiltered anger, it came as a shock to you, as well as the others it seemed.

the sound of footsteps from your right prompts you to hide your face in your hands again. whoever it is, you don't want them to see you like this.

"sting," price's voice calls out to you, as soft as the captain can manage. a small part of you is disappointed it wasn't ghost, coming to apologise, but you know that would never happen. he said it himself, he has no desire to babysit you.

that's all you were to him; a burden, thrust upon him against his wishes, someone he was obligated to look after despite how much of a chore it was.

you just wish you hadn't been so naively optimistic as to assume that he would ever come around to you. that he would ever change.

your spiralling thoughts only make the tears fall even harder. price approaches, you hear rustle of fabric as he sits himself next to you.

a heavy arm rests over your shoulders, the weight of it comforting in an odd way. "it's alright, you're alright." price murmurs.

a moment passes before you lift your head, watching him from the corner of your eye.

"i'm sorry…" your voice is strained, hoarse from the tears and your exhaustion.

he shakes his head. "no need to apologise." he responds, giving your shoulder an affirming pat. you sniffle, fixing him with a questioning look.

"but… i fucked up," you reply, your confusion obvious; you'd expected him to be pissed like ghost, his nonchalance was certainly unexpected. "and we almost died because of me…"

"but we didn't," with the arm around your shoulders he gives you a gentle shake, "the mission was a success, wasn't it?"

"i… yeah?"

"then you got nothin' to be sorry for, have you? people get hurt, that's par for the course, sting." he moves his hand to ruffle your hair, giving you a reassuring smile. "so you can stop with the waterworks an'all,"

you huff, a half-hearted attempt at a laugh, and wipe your eyes with the sleeves of your jacket.

"come on mate, let's get you checked out, yeah?" price stands, grabbing one of your arms and pulling you up with him.

you don't talk on the way to the infirmary, trailing behind him feeling wholly like a child having been scolded. you felt pathetic, and you're glad you have the captain's massive frame to hide yourself behind.

one step through the doors and you're bombarded by the smell of antiseptics and artificial air freshener. the nurse greets you, her placid voice and the gentle hand that guides you to one of the many beds causing your muscles to go rigid.

the captain stands with you, arms crossed over his chest and out of the way of the nurse as she checks you over and runs various checks. you do your best to stay calm, but the cold, clinical environment has a distressing effect on you.

the door opens and shuts behind you. the warning look on price's face tells you exactly who came in. the thick tension is back in the air in an instant

"you–" ghost begins, but you interrupt before he can get another word out.

"i know. i fucking get it, alright?" you snap, rubbing your already bloodshot eyes in exasperation. "you don't have to keep goin' on." your voice gets weaker, a betrayal of how you really feel about his outburst.

heartache.

"i just…" ghost goes to speak again, but price shakes his head at him in a wordless exchange.

he doesn't try again. the door swings open and shut again with his exit.

somehow, your heart aches even more.

the nurse clears you with no major injuries, just scrapes and bruises – nothing you weren't used to. some of your gear was a little singed from the fire, but you'd managed to escape without any burns.

it appeared lady luck had a sense of humour.

you still don't say a word as price leads the way to his office. there's a few people milling around in the corridors, their eyes on you feeling like needles in your skin. you keep your head down and try not to think about the talk you're about to have.

you hear laughter, and lift your head to see that there's a group of three recruits standing against the wall up ahead. the one who appears to be the ringleader watches you approach, snickering with his buddies in a way that has your eyes narrowing. you can tell he's up to something even before he moves, sharing a look with his friends.

has has a lighter in his hand. he waits until you're right in front of him before he ignites it and shoves it in your face, laughing obnoxiously when you flinch away from the gesture.

"ooh, scared, are ya?" his voice is high pitched and infuriatingly mocking. you slap his hand holding the lighter out of your face, and the two recruits behind him laugh at you as well, nudging each other like they're funny.

it makes your blood boil.

the condescending looks, the way they clearly think they're above you, the highschool bully attitude – you just see red.

grabbing him harshly by the front of his jacket, you shove him up against the wall with such aggression it shakes the picture frames.

"shut up–" you seethe, allowing every ounce of pent up frustration and anger and desperation to bleed into your voice, "shut the fuck up!" you pull him back and slam him back into the wall. you find a great deal of satisfaction in the sound his head makes when it collides with the wall.

his friends have stopped laughing, in fact you can't hear anything except the blood rushing in your ears as you repeatedly hit his head against the brick, over and over again.

too much,

it's all too. much.

you're yanked away from him, but your eyes stay locked on the way he clutches the back of his head and shuffles back from you like a dog with its tail between its legs.

it was almost cathartic, you would've smiled, if not for price turning you to face him with a hand on your shoulder. you blink back to your senses, but you can't find it in yourself to feel bad. he had it coming.

"my office. now." his face is hard as he addresses you, looking to the recruits with a similarly displeased look. "and i'll be back for you."

by the hand on your shoulder you're guided away from the wide-eyed recruits, your head still feeling light with the anger the recruit evoked from you.

you're not used to feeling so helpless; the whole situation is frustrating enough, but the feeling of not being able to do anything just makes it all the more infuriating.

you shouldn't have lashed out like that, but it's all been building to a point and it was bound to blow up in your face sooner or later. the last couple of weeks, your struggles with ghost and the fact that you'd fucked it all up again, the general stress of the job – you should've seen this coming, really.

it feels like you're all the way back at square one, and you don't have it in you to try anymore.

taglist: @sofasoap , @siilvan , @mockerycrow , @i-love-ghost , @projectdreamwalker , @achelois-is-here , @adamsloverboyy , @thatchickwiththecamera , @chickensandwich69 , @batmanunicorns523 , @tiny-kasper , @dezibou , @pampeop , @cumbermovels , @goth-boi-atlas , @berryjuicyy , @guiltgoreglory , @postmodernrevolutionist , @untoldshortsofthefandoms , @delilah-grimes , @sunflowerqueen1416 , @luvssemma , @ghostslittlegf , @imonmykneessir , @kenz-ee , @eistro-phobia , @rzmarona , @alanalanalanalanalanna , @cathnoneofyourbusiness , @madsothree , @geisterfvhrer , @lazyninjaphilosopher , @aliilium , @koi-feish , @chaoticgoblindev , @clear-your-mind-and-dream , @thrivig-n-jiving , @lesterous , @glitterypirateduck , @slu77ym4nw415ts , @livelaugh-light , @trulylavendedarling , @stateofcatatonia , @rivalriotrenegade

if your name is crossed out, i can't tag you for whatever reason, sorry! ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

[werywrenniethoughts]

Help Wanted 2: Lets Talk About Sun (Spoilers for Help Wanted 2!)

Okay,

I've had some time to digest Help Wanted 2. What a freaking roller coaster. I'm assuming you all have played/watched/seen Help Wanted 2, so be advised if you haven't seen everything we have access to so far, I'll be bringing it up.

One thing I'll say upfront is its nice to know Sun and Moon ARE older like I theorized. They're tied to the Fall Festival which took place in 1970 per one of the prize collector posters and the fact they deal with the carousel. I think Steel Wool also tried to point out and confirm Moon is patient zero for....I guess I should say Vanny's influence in the PizzaPlex. He's definitely the favorite to be pitted against us. I'm STILL losing my mind over the Princess Quest Ending.

So, the DCA fandom has been all across the board, ranging from "I love sassy Sun" to "Sun is SO mean. This ruins my headcannon." I don't think it really does. At least, it doesn't have to.

Our first encounter with Sun in front of us is Arts and Crafts. This minigame is located in the world we eventually learn is AR. We also are clearly a new FazBear hire. Sun is definitely sassy, and let's face it, VERY critical of what he defines as a mistake. BUT the flip side of that coin is he is still nice when you do the art correctly. He calls you friend, he wants to help you. If the player eats the crafts, he loses his mind. It's because he's worrying for the player due to the effects eating the crafts will have on them, ie: "That is how you get ulcers!". (By far, MY FAVORITE line of Sun's btw. Kellen stated that line and the indigestion line were both improved btw- genius.) He still doesn't want Moon to get you, he doesn't want to get in trouble. The one threat is after you've been hitting him several times and you've outright pissed him off. (I personally, think the "I should turn off the lights myself" was a drama king being a drama king.) Then we take the mask off. We see everything destroyed and Sun acts like the Sun we've always known. "I'm perfectly fine where I am. It's better this way. It's safer this way." "Keep the generator on. Without it I won't be able to help you." He's the same as he's always been. We've just seen a new layer.

What we ultimately have to come to terms with, is that Sun is a control freak and a perfectionist. He thinks he "has" to be. He doesn't want you to move from your craft table so he can watch you like a hawk. Do the job you are assigned. Get in, get out. Do the art HIS way, and follow HIS rules. If you don't, bad things can happen. Bad things HAVE happened. Another explanation could also be that maybe he isn't as free of the glitch trap virus as we thought? He can be sassy, he can be brutally honest, he can be concerned for us, for children, and his own darkness can rear its head, all at the same time.

Steel Wool could also be trying to slam into our faces that Sun is incomplete. He is one-half of a whole. He has good intentions, he means well at his core, but he cannot stop, regroup, and act rather than react. He gets stressed, and can't cope and adjust. Instead, he demands control back when he feels like he's about to lose it. Moon is calm, calculating, and logical. It's why they need to be whole and why Sun is so grateful to Cassie when she fixes them to become Eclipse. As Eclipse, they both find the parts of themselves they've so desperately needed.

[fitgirlfemdom]

✧∘* ✧･ﾟbigger guys✧∘* ✧･ﾟ

you meet me at the gym. maybe i caught your eye from the squat rack or maybe you watched as a downed a bottle of water during a break. it doesn't matter--we get to talking. eventually, you realize, i come to that gym everyday, and soon we get to exchanging numbers. i come across as this demure, young cardiobunny with a bit of an obsession for you, and maybe you're just looking to score.

it doesn't matter. i tell you that i like bigger guys. you ask me about my opinion of you, and i suggest that you could eat a few more calories. after all, it's bulking season. you don't really think that your 10% body fat is gonna maintain all the way to summer, do you? i suggest a mass gainer shake brand, and although you forget most of our conversation, on your way home, you couldn't help but stop by a grocery store and pick some up.

that's when i start asking you about it. i recommend, after our respective work-outs when we're downing out protein shakes, you take your mass gainer at the same time. it's efficiency, after all. you say you want to ease into it, but after meeting my eyes as the bottle touches your lips, something changes in you.

i go to the gym everyday, and when i see you enter, i ask about the shakes. you did bring some with you, right? you won't get any gains if you don't eat right after! didn't you know that? and that brand isn't even that good anyway. who told you to get that? let's head to your place after--i'll show you how to make a real shake.

that's when it becomes a daily routine--well, it started to, before your lethargy got to you. post-workout, i'd head over and whip up something special for you--gobs of peanut butter, mass gainer, heavy cream, protein powder, the works--all in the comfort of your own blender. you start to question if all of this is really necessary, but i did tell you big guys were better, and are you gonna tell me i'm wrong? look at you. don't get self-deprecating now. i like how much you've gained!

the daily work-out dates turn to me seeing you after, crashed out on the couch. you head to the gym a few times a week, but not as commonly as before. you've just been so tired lately, i get it. rest days are even more important for recovery, though. it's doctors' orders-you need more sleep, and you need more shakes. when you're not ordering DoorDash, i'm the one cooking for you. a shake goes with every meal--it's mandatory. and you love it. they taste good! why think so hard about it when i'm smiling when you do it?

in fact, going to the gym at all is just cutting down the muscle you already have, don't you know that? you need some time to regain mass. you might as well quit your job--it's so demanding, isn't it? i could support both of us easily, and why would i want you to risk burning more calories out and about? it'd be much easier for you to sit on the couch and regroup, watch some TV, watch some porn, and eat.

you quit your job, because it's sucked the soul out of you, honestly. you've moved in with me, because there's no reason to live separately when we spend all our time together. you can't go five minutes without one of my shakes or my meals, after all. you're honestly a real glutton now, if i'm being honest. whenever i return from my daily gym visit, i make sure to bring you plenty of take-out, or three pizzas, or a few Subway footlongs, just to make sure you're well-fed. you've added probably 100lbs of mass at this point. it'd be a shame for all that hard work to go to waste.

you barely move from the couch, and i think it's starting to get to you. your gym buddies are all wondering what happened, and you can barely get the strength to sit-up by yourself, but that mental turmoil seems to dissipate when you're eating. it just tastes too good, doesn't it, baby? you're so full, but you love when i bring a fork to your lips, or a slice of pizza to your mouth. you love when i nod affirmatively, smiling as i watch you down another one of my shakes.

you especially love when i ride you. all those past memories, memories of athletic prowess, of high school cheerleaders, of locker room chats, all seem to fade away. the rush of a new PR, the delight in pumping iron, it's all gone. you spread your thick, plumped-out thighs outward and i straddle you as the TV plays. it's hard to get a good hold on your cock with that gut in the way, but you're so hard, so needy, so hot--i plunge myself on it right away. you feel my tight, toned body squeeze the life out of you, hearing the wet slaps of your balls on my defined, perky ass. you might not be able to move as well now, but i certainly can. i'm the tightest you've ever had, and my tits are pressed up against your face.

you're sweating, and you're not even moving. well, not intentionally, anyway. your tits are bouncing more than mine, let's be honest. everything about me is perky and defined, firm--even my ribs are apparent. but you? you're a pig. your moans almost sound like oinks, that's how much pressure you've put on your body. you stare up at me riding your cock, and because of your porn-rotten brain and how pathetic you are, you cum almost immediately, like always. doesn't matter. i give you a hearty dose of Viagra with your mass gainer shake after, and i use your cock for the next few hours. i get horny after the gym, what can i say?

you've blown at least four loads into my wet cunt at this point, and although my stamina hasn't faltered, you're completely spent. your cock is so overstimulated, you wince at the slightest touch. i know this, baby, and i care about you so much, so i make sure i've licked every inch of it clean. i stare up at you from this angle, but i can barely see your face behind your gut. you've really let yourself go, haven't you? you're shaking, overfed, overstimulated, bound to this couch under your own poor decisions. why even leave the house? they're all just gonna make fun of you. you think your gym buddies won't have a few choice words to say about you when you make your return?

you don't care about this, about any of this. your brain is so melted from the constant dopamine, the constant pleasure, that you've lost all self-awareness. your daily schedules consists of cable TV, countless hours of porn and touching your pathetic cock, and, of course, eating everything in sight. you're a complete degenerate, but you're my complete degenerate.

i did tell you i liked bigger guys.

[artist-issues]

I like Koba because he’s the perfect photo-opposite of Caesar, and the perfect villain for that franchise.

I like that the movies took their time and characterized him carefully, even in Rise of the Planet of the Apes, before anybody knew that he was going to be the villain in the second movie. The researchers are like, “he knows the drill, he’s been through a lot of labs.” When he’s just a dumb brute animal, with no superhuman intelligence, he causes the virus to be released to humanity. Remember how? By pretending to be calm when they put him in the scanning machine, but then thrashing suddenly and knocking that one lab assistant’s mask off, infecting him. He did that before he was self-aware and super-intelligent. He was a bitter and angry creature, and a cunning and vengeful creature, long before he got super-smart. And they keep that cunning bait-and-savage-switch character trait way later, in the second movie, when he pretends to be a silly monkey and then brutally murders humans when their guards are down.

But then when he is freed, and the humans are supposedly gone at the start of the second movie, I love the nuance that he wasn’t interested in overthrowing Caesar.

He was happy being the second-in-command. He had the opportunity to leave Caesar to get eaten by a bear in the opening scene of that movie—and instead he saves his life and looks horrified when he thinks Caesar is dead. They have a camaraderie. And he genuinely jokes around with Blue Eyes and tries to make him feel better after the younger ape is clawed by the bear.

Basically, it really was as if all he wanted was to wipe out the humans. When he thought they were gone for good, he was not the same bitter brute you see pushing Jacobs to his death or seizing the opportunity to beat up Will. He was happy just being one of Caesar’s advisors, living in the woods with the other apes.

But then humans come. And all this hate is back. And he still trusts Caesar and follows Caesar’s leadership, even if he thinks they should wipe all the humans out and satisfy his bloodlust from the beginning. He still submits to Caesar. But then Caesar pushes it by offering to basically help the humans do their work. Koba hates humans, and Caesar appears to be choosing them over him. And on top of that, you can see that in every confrontation he has with Caesar, Koba is interested in what the other apes think of him. Caesar stands up aggressively when Koba shouts at him, and Koba becomes aware that this is getting confrontational in front of everybody and backs down. Caesar almost chokes him out and Koba looks around at the other apes watching before asking forgiveness and regrouping.

So this means that there’s an element of wounded pride AND feeling like an outcast among the apes already mixed in with Koba’s hatred of humans, after Caesar doesn’t agree with him/punishes him. Then you can see Koba go from being a team player to being self-protective, and he starts using the other apes instead of being interested in them as family.

After realizing Caesar will never hate the humans, Koba basically had a choice to make. He could choose the apes, even though it has been revealed that they don’t share his hate. Or he could choose his hate—but he can’t have both, because the apes don’t want to hate humans if it means war. And we see that he wouldn’t give up his hate.

Koba’s own hate completely swallowed him up, to the point where he saw not only humans, but other apes, as disgusting. He starts killing just to kill. After the bloody war starts, he completely stops trying to manipulate Blue Eyes or gain the other apes’ approval. He just kills apes that disagree with him and humans in his way, alike.

Caesar points that out in their final battle. But that’s what makes Koba such a good opposite to Caesar. Caesar is, like I said in the other post, all about “family.” He’s all about protecting the apes he chooses to regard as his family, and it’s usually “protect them from hate.” But Koba doesn’t really regard the apes as his family. Maybe he was starting to, when he thought all humans were gone forever and was grateful to Caesar for freeing him from the labs, and there were no problems. But the truth is, while Caesar is all about making choices that protect, Koba is all about making choices that hurt.

And that’s what’s interesting. Caesar is defining what an “ape” is, and he knows it. He knows that he has a whole super-intelligent new species as his people, and they’re still deciding, every day, what being an “ape” means. And so Caesar struggles the whole second movie with the fact that apes and humans aren’t actually inherently different. Not when it comes to hate.

But if you think about it, that’s what separates the apes meaningfully from what they used to be: savagery. Just straight-up, plain “I feel mad so I’m going to lash out and rip up anything near me.” They got what from the serum? Advanced intelligence. Reason. Koba gets to the point where he can’t be reasoned with, and won’t show mercy or any of the “higher” sensibilities that come with that “higher being/human” thing the “evolved” apes have.

So when Koba chooses to be that way; when he chooses hate; when Koba chooses to kill his “family,” then Caesar kills Koba. Because Caesar is showing all the apes watching that final showdown: “true apes” do not kill and endanger one another. True apes protect each other. Koba only protects himself. So he doesn’t get to be an “ape” entitled to the same protection Caesar gives all his followers, and expects them to give one another.

I like that. Because Koba will kill anything that threatens or hurts him. But Caesar will only kill those who won’t let go of their hate—whether they’re human or primate.

I also just love the acting of the guy who plays Koba. And I love that he looks and moves more savagely than the other apes, even though he’s supposedly got the same level of intelligence and comparable experience to Caesar, the most “refined” ape. I love the way he talks, and I love, like I said, how careful and well-thought-out his characterization was.

[delicatebarness]

i cant read your mind | chapter seven

Summary: Your last few hours in Madripoor.

Warnings: MCU Spoilers. Major The Falcon and The Winter Soldier Spoilers. Avengers Endgame Spoilers. Guns, Violence, Explosions and Jealously.

Word Count: 1192

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A/N: FINALLY episode 3 is done, now onto episode 4, and boy, have I been waiting for this one. - B

Tags: @blackhawkfanatic | @cjand10 | @wintrsoldrluvr | @missvelvetsstuff | @buckys-metal-arm | @matchat3a | @shadowzena43 | @torntaltos | @honeydew3064 | @scott-loki-barnes

Leaving the bathroom, you joined the rest of your team in the lounge area. As you entered, you couldn’t help but notice Sam without a shirt, your eyes lingering on his defined abs longer than you had intended. He caught your gaze, shooting you a playful smirk.

As you broke eye contact, you made your way to Bucky. “By the way, how is the new Cap?” Sharon directed her question over to Sam.

“Don’t get me started,” Bucky mumbled, answering for Sam. You tensed as Sharon walked over, carrying on their conversation and sitting next to him on the small couch. Their conversation turned into white noise in your mind while you watched them sitting close together.

You didn’t realize you had been holding your breath, as Sharon stood up to make herself a drink, you released it with a sigh. Seizing the opportunity, you quickly sat in her previous spot, itching closer to Bucky. He draped his arm over the back of the couch. You listened intently to Sam and Sharon’s discussion about the Power Broker, flinching slightly when you felt Bucky’s fingers start to play with the ends of your hair. 

You both sat watching and listening to the deal they made, offering leads for a pardon. 

~

Upbeat music played as the crowd cheered and danced around the artwork. Your anxiety heightened as you watched them wave drinks around in their hands, so close to the priceless work. Madripoor was a crazy place, especially since you found yourself laughing and having fun with Zemo. 

After a few moments of dancing with Zemo, you felt a pair of hands place themselves on your hips. Lost in the moment, you didn’t bother to check who it was and began swaying along with them. It wasn’t until your eyes met Bucky’s from across the room that you realized it might be someone else. The intensity in his gaze sends a thrill through you. Instead of stopping, you let a mischievous smirk play on your lips and gave him a wink.

After a few minutes of dancing with strangers and by the tightness of his jaw, frustrating Bucky, you decided to start regrouping with him, Sam, and Zemo in case Sharon got any information. 

Bucky didn’t say one word to you as you looked at the art, or when Sharon came back with a lead, and he never said a word on the way to depot.

~

After taking the comm from Sharon, you entered the shipping container with Bucky, Sam, and Zemo. You stayed at the door with Bucky as Sam and Zemo inspected the inside. His jaw tensed every time you glanced up at him. 

“Bucky…” You tried to get his attention, but as his gaze snapped down to you his nostrils flared. A telltale sign for you to either watch what you say or be quiet. You chose the latter as you began following the men further into the container up to a science lab. 

You stood quietly as Sam spoke to the Doctor, your eyes surveying the lab for any other clues, that was when Sharon’s voice blared in your ear. “Guys, we have company.” Sharing a glance with Sam, your eyes having a private conversation. Once he nodded, you bolted back out of the container to find her. 

Her grunting was the first sound you heard, rushing towards it you helped her to knock out the rest of the bounty hunters. “Feels like old times, huh?” you quipped, a reference to the times you fought together while working at S.H.I.E.L.D. She didn’t get a chance to reply before more bounty hunters showed up. 

After getting the last of who was currently around, you and Sharon ran back into the container towards the men. “Guys, we’re seriously outta time here,” Sharon shouted towards them as you reached the lab. 

You yelped at the sound of a gunshot, Bucky rushed toward you, blocking your view of the scene that had unfolded seconds before. “Keep your eyes on me,” he mumbled, his voice only loud enough for you to hear. Doing as he said, you locked your gaze with him as your heartbeat raced. 

Suddenly, you were pushed to the ground, Bucky’s body weight on top of yours as your ears rang, the temperature of the room heightened and sirens blared. Bucky pulled himself up, reaching out his hand to help you up from the ground too. 

Scanning the room, you notice the liquids in the testing tubes start to bubble and whistle around you. “It’s about to blow!” you exclaimed, hurrying after Bucky as he guided the others. He swiftly assisted them back to their feet before he turned to usher you out the door. 

Before you knew it, you were all once again in a shoot-out. Sam and Bucky fought over who was leading, shouting at each other about who was in the right. “It’s in every action movie!” Sam declared as he gestured around him to Bucky.

“He’s never seen an action movie!” You shouted back at Sam, defending Bucky, who had unmistakably exclaimed, as you all left the container, to go on his signal. Just then, another explosion erupted, and Bucky instinctively shielded you with his body, his protective nature over you kicking in. 

“You alright?” He mumbled as the smoke cleared, locking eyes with you as the world behind him blurred into insignificance. At that moment, he was all you saw. You offered him a reassuring nod, murmuring a quick ‘yeah’ to him before you both shot your glances over to where the gunshots began again. 

~

Back on the plane, you sat in silence, reflecting on the events of Madripoor. Gazing out the window, the conversation between Sam and Bucky faded as your thoughts took over. You couldn’t help but wonder how Steve would have handled the situation, and how things might have been different if he just stayed. Doubts crept into your mind about whether Natasha’s sacrifice had been worth it. 

Just then, you felt the presence that reminded you why it was worth it. Towering over you, he watched as you remained fixated on the passing clouds.

“I’m still pissed,” he said quietly. Shrugging your shoulders in response, you tucked your knees closer to your chest. “But, you still need to get some rest.” And, with that, pulled you up from your seat. Taking your place, he gently guided you to sit on his lap. You didn’t resist, nestling into his chest as he traced soothing patterns on your outer thigh with his left hand. His right hand entangled itself through your hair. 

“Is this really for me to rest, or for you?” You asked him, aware from the many nights spent together that he found it easier to relax and fall asleep with you as close as possible. 

“Both of us, Baby,” he muttered softly. His voice was honest as he gently tightened his embrace, his breathing warm against your ear.

Sighing, you felt the tension in your body slowly melt away. His familiar touch and steady heartbeat calm your thoughts, making it easier to let go of the day's chaos.

---

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[bakuhatsufallinlove]

I hear people are rustling about again saying that if Katsuki called Izuku "Deku," it would be a regression of character development.

Other people have talked about it before, but I'm here to remind you that 1. Katsuki has already called him "Deku" again, and 2. it is actually further proof of his development.

This isn't an "old habits die hard" situation -- we already got that in chapter 327 with "De-Izuku!" No, this is something else.

Why?

Because "Deku" is Izuku's hero name.

Chapter 345

Katsuki is communicating combat information here, so he addresses Izuku as a hero, as opposed to how he would address him in a personal context, and he still uses it when talking to Best Jeanist.

If anybody cares about being addressed properly by their hero name, it's Katsuki!

Chapter 319

He bristles at Yaoyorozu for calling him Bakugou-san during their mission to rescue Izuku.

Chapter 346

The first time Mirko calls him the wrong name, it's during the heat of battle, so he actually ignores it and answers her with the pertinent information.

Chapter 347

He only argues with her the second time she calls him by the wrong name when they are regrouping.

And, wait, okay, look, I actually want to point out something hilarious here--in the English release, they had Mirko calling him "Dynamight," dropping the Great Explosion Murder God part, but in Japanese she actually says Dainama (ダイナマ), not Dainamaito (ダイナマイト), both times.

Which means she shortens his hero name not just by ditching the grandiose title, but also by removing the All Might reference.

I like to think that is what he is most pissed off about LOL.

(Bonus: I highlighted in blue where he calls her ウサギやろー, usagi yarou, meaning "bunny bastard." The word "yarou" is typically an insult directed at men; the etymology itself is masculine. The official English release made this "bunny gal," I'm guessing to avoid readers walking away with the notion that Katsuki is confused about Mirko's gender or that he was insulting her gender. In reality, Katsuki is simply a progressively-minded foul-mouthed youth who does not discriminate between bastards!)

Anyway, see, we have already been shown how Katsuki refers to Izuku when he isn't communicating battle information.

Chapter 362

He uses Izuku's name out loud to himself as a personal aside right before his moment of heroism.

I think everybody is missing out on a much more delightful question. Katsuki has used Izuku's hero name, so are we ever going to get to see Izuku use Katsuki's?

And if he doesn't, if he just blurts out "Kacchan!" on the battlefield like the damn nerd he is, will Katsuki correct him?

I mean, we've never once seen him demand Izuku stop calling him by his childhood nickname, so is he just gonna let that one slide?

What a funny fucking exception that would be, huh?

[weirdsht]

cale with vice commander?? his closest confidant, the one he shares his plans with, and is close with the kids (+ choi han who uses them against cale whenever sacrificial plans happen, "I don't think miss [name] will like this" "..fine")

I Triple Dare You

a/n: I got home from uni, saw my face was as pale as a ghost, then decided to write a fic because when will I ever have the time? lol

tags: female reader, undefined relationship

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read navi)

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“Cale-nim…”

Choi Han warns as he sees Cale abusing his ancient powers again. The man in question only sighed at the swordmaster.

“Just a little, I won’t faint.”

The redhead tried to argue but then Raon suddenly spoke in his mind.

“I’m telling [Name]! She’s just 10 steps away!”

“Don’t–”

Cale tried to say to the invisible dragon but the enemy attacked again.

“How can I stop using my powers when these things keep coming!”

He was now frustrated. If he overuses his powers the children and Choi Han are going to tattle on him.

“Cale-nim let me handle it. I don’t think Miss [Name] will like it if you faint again.”

“...Fine”

The commander relented, not wanting to see his vice commander’s sad gaze if he fainted or coughed up blood.

Everything was progressing smoothly. Choi Han and Raon take vanguard in attacking the enemies while Cale stands in the rear. He occasionally provides support, just enough to conserve his powers.

“Oh..? You haven’t fainted yet nya?”

On spoke to Cale as she and Hong regrouped with them. The silver kitten looks genuinely surprised to see Cale still conscious and well.

…It makes Cale wonder just how the children see him.

Sure his physical strength is nonexistent and he faints and coughs up blood sometimes. But still, he’s generally very healthy because of the crybaby.

“This is surprising nya! I was ready to go tell [Name] that you feel unwell again nya.”

Hong agreed with his sister’s sentiments. His paw touched Cale’s face to make sure he was really all right.

“...I know how to keep my word.”

It was true, he does. Well, at least tries to do so to the best of his abilities. The children averaging 8 years old merely hummed in approval. Probably thinking that something will happen to Cale later on.

But nothing will.

Cale already promised [Name] that he’ll take better care of himself.

“Cale, you’re aware that I worry about you right?”

[Name] spoke to him as they drank tea leisurely. They had just finished planning their next move. Everyone was away to make the necessary preparations.

“I do, even if you don’t tell me the children will keep nagging.”

That made [Name] laugh. On, Hong, and Raon seem to always take her side, even in the instances she’s not around.

“Maybe I rant to them about you too much.”

“Hmmm, maybe you’re all just very close.”

Silence filled the air. However, both are content for they are basking in each other’s presence. With how busy things are these days, they have learned to enjoy small tranquil moments like this.

“I promise I’ll try my very best to not get hurt next time.”

Cale spoke up as he finished the remaining drop of his tea. [Name] raised her brows at him.

“That includes coughing up blood okay?”

“Yes, I won’t cough up blood either.”

[Name] smiles and Cale could feel the surroundings become brighter even if it was in the middle of the night. 

Then [Name] suddenly held out her hand. Pinky sticking up, asking Cale to link his pinky with her to seal the deal. 

Cale scoffed at his vice commander as he complied with her wishes, finding the unnecessary gesture childish. However inwardly, he was happy. Even if he thinks it is childish, he’d still do it just to see that smile on her face brighten up even more.

Before Cale knew it all the enemies were taken care of and all five of them were on their way to regroup with [Name]. 

“Cale-nim I’m impressed.”

Choi Han gave the redhead a thumbs up. Cale did not dare ask what he meant, simply looking away as he used the Sound of Wind to get to [Name] faster.

The lighthearted mood changes once they get to the battlefield where their vice commander is. The scene was chaotic. Dead mana was spread everywhere and [Name] was alone defending one side. Her purification powers work overtime to make sure no one from their side will come into contact with the dead mana.

“Raon call Mary and the Dark Elves–”

“Keugh!”

Cale stopped speaking as he heard [Name]. He turns to look at her, only to see blood dripping from her mouth.

His words might have stopped but his movements did not. Cale was still instinctively moving towards his vice commander. 

Good thing that he was. For he was just in time to catch her from stumbling forward.

“You punk! You told me to not cough blood only for you to do so yourself!”

The redhead’s words were harsh. Despite that, the circles he traced on [Name]’s waist as he supported her were tender. They provided the purificator comfort as she composed herself.

“Ironic right? But the situation was unexpected. I didn’t expect them to make to sacrifice 10 ships full of dead mana…”

Cale pinched the bridge of his nose. He can’t blame [Name], none of them expected the enemy to carry literal ships of dead mana.

From a distance, he could see the Dark Elves arriving. As they did he gently stirred [Name] away from the frontlines of the battlefield. Guiding her to stand on the sidelines, letting the Mary and the Dark Elves have a feast.

“As your commander, I’m sentencing you to house arrest for being injured without permission.”

The commander suddenly spoke as they watched the Dark Elves have fun. His arm never leaves [Name]’s back. Hands still tracing comforting circles as his eyes scan her body to see if she’s hurt anywhere else.

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Oh, but I will.”

Safe to say that [Name] is not leaving the villa after this operation. Perhaps she won’t even manage to leave Cale’s room.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

boys a liar

pairing: ethan landry x female!reader

WC: 3.5K

warnings: SPOILERS (tho you already know cause of the gif), cursing, (back)stabbing, blood. should be it!

summary: he said he would always protect you, he just never said anything about it being from him.

A/N: i got inspired by a charlie walker (scream4) edit where he was shushing kirby after he stabbed her. also don’t think tooo hard about the stab/blood loss logistics. it’s fictional.

been in the drafts since march 21

masterlist / ethan landry

Everything was in chaos. The trap for ghost face instantly goes south, like they usually do.

Kirby disappeared a minute after arriving at the theater leaving your group, Sam, Tara, Chad, you, and Ethan on your own. Unintentionally everyone split up, Chad and Tara going one way, and Sam another way, which left you and Ethan on your own.

The two of you decided to head to the balcony and sit near the railing. The second Ethan sat next to you, you leaned your head on his shoulder and slipped your hand into his, and gave a firm squeeze. Your heart was beating loudly in your ears, it was the only noise you could hear besides your breathing and Ethan’s with his puffs of air ruffling over your hair. Your eyes just stared blankly in front of you, the black robes of ghost faces past in your direct line of sight.

“I don’t like this.” An opinion you’ve withheld. You felt Ethan shifting his head, “I told you to stay home.” “Yeah, but my chances of getting killed would have been a lot bigger if I was separated. Plus I want to make sure you and everyone else are safe as well, we’re all making it out of this mess alive.” You squeezed his hand tighter before bringing it to your lips and kissing his knuckles.

The feeling of Ethan kissing your head made you feel just a bit lighter. You moved your head off his shoulder and stared into his warm brown eyes, his soft gaze fluttering your heart. With your free hand, you cupped his cheek and leaned in with your eyes drooping close, Ethan meeting you halfway. His plush lips were a simple touch of skin before he tilted just a bit, his nose pillowing into your cheek. Your lips moved in a simplistic dance, nothing heating up, just wanting to enjoy each other during a blissful moment of peace before an incoming storm tears it down.

You pulled away first, needing to catch your breath. Your lips were still close, noses bumping into each other and both smiled at the action. Your fingers danced over Ethan’s skin, feeling the texture and bumps, wanting to absorb it all into your skin.

“It’s gonna be fine, sweetheart. I won’t let anything happen to you.” His voice was low, a whisper to your lips. He ran his thumb over your hand. You peered through your lashes at him, “I know you’re lying, but thank you.” You couldn’t guarantee your safety, or anyone else’s. You rather keep your expectations low.

You fully pulled away from Ethan, his eyes watching your every move. You looked over the balcony and saw no one around, it caused worry to fester.

“We should probably regroup with the others,” you stood from your seat and turned to the stairs, but a hand wrapped around your wrist stopped you in your tracks and you looked over your shoulder, “I meant it. Everything is gonna be fine.” Ethan’s puppy dog eyes which would usually melt your insides and weaken your knees only caused a chill over your skin.

“Okay. I trust you.”

How you wish you could retract that statement.

-

The both of you checked different rooms of the theater, not finding Kirby or Sam. You found Tara and Chad… as they were kissing. You started to walk quietly out of the room when a blur of motion caught your attention.

“Look out!” You screamed, but it was no use as Tara got stabbed in the back by ghost face, Chad holding her body.

Ghost face pulled the knife out and just as he was preparing for another stab you rushed at him and grabbed his arm. The two of you struggled for the upper hand. He grabbed at your hair and yanked it causing your head to bend backward harshly making a yelp fall from your mouth. Being distracted by the tight pull of your hair, your hands loosened their grip on his arm and he took the opportunity to stab the knife into your stomach making you cry even louder. To make matters worse, he started to pull the knife down, ripping apart your muscle and skin tissue. You felt like you could pass out in a blink.

You heard someone scream your name and then you fell to the floor and the knife was yanked out, and your chest heaved for a steady breath. Your body was shaking and you touched a finger to your wound and it was instantly coated in slick blood. Your head was starting to get woozy, black dots were spotting your vision and the ground felt like it was being tipped like you were on a rocking boat in a rocky sea. A warm feeling graced your stomach and back, a breeze kissed your cheek and tickled your ear and if you could focus enough you could hear whimpers and pleading for you.

A hard press to your abdomen made you jerk forward from the floor and squeeze your eyes shut from pain. Your heart was beating frantically and your skin was feeling clammy, tiny sweat drops hitting your eye. Your hands clawed at the person’s hands and arms as they applied more pressure to stop the bleeding. You fluttered your eyes open, trying to keep yourself from slipping into the darkness and to see who was with you. Curly brunette hair was your answer.

“E- Ethan…” you groaned as he pushed harder, “stop, stop, stop! It hurts! You're hurting me!” Tears fell from the corner of your eyes as you tried pushing Ethan away.

“I know, I know, but I have to stop you from bleeding out. Sweetheart, please, come on. Hey, hey, just- just look at me, okay? Just look at me, let me see those eyes I love so much.” His voice was wavering every few words. You laid your head down on the floor, you still don’t know where in the theater, your eyes staring up at the ceiling as you gripped Ethan’s hands in a comforting way.

You didn’t want to die. You made it out of Woodsboro with the twins and the Carpenter sisters, but maybe this was some twisted thing from the universe. Only the siblings get to live in this new franchise, as Mindy would put it. You didn’t want to die. You wanted to live a normal life, not have to watch your back for the rest of your life just because someone was obsessed with horror movies and given ideas by the killers. You didn’t want to die. You wanted more time with your boyfriend, Ethan. The two of you only dated a few months, but you wanted years with him, a lifetime with him.

“I- I don’t wa- want to die… Ethan. Pl- Please.” You choked on sobs and it only caused more pain to flare up.

“It’s gonna be okay, it’ll be over soon. You just need to hold on a little longer.” He moved a hand from your stomach and caressed your cheek, the feeling of your blood touching your skin making the intimate gesture vile.

There was something within his eyes that flickered like a switch. One minute he was looking at you like you painted stars in the sky and the next it was like he was looking at the person he hated most in the worst, a nasty grimace tugging at his beautiful lips.

The hand touching your cheek slipped down and down until it wrapped around your throat and squeezed, tight. Air immediately was cut off and you grabbed at his wrist and tried to pull him away, but he was a lot stronger and in stable condition. You felt his other hand move away but you didn’t notice how he grabbed something from behind him and kept it away from your eye line. He leaned in close, his breath skating across your redding face. You pushed a hand into his face, but he pushed it into the ground and you winched from an unknown object pressing into your wrist.

“You know, (Y/n), I just wanted you to know you were my first girlfriend. And it was a real pleasure for me, first kiss at a party while slightly tipsy, classic. First intimate time together while watching a movie, another classic. Also thank you for taking my virginity, you were lovely.” He sighed, “Honestly… I don’t think anyone after you will be topped. An added bonus, you survived the Woodsboro killings, like come on!” You continue to struggle in his hold as he speaks to your face.

“You know, it was my sister's idea- try and get someone to fall for me. A good killer always has a love interest. And I’ll also be honest… I really like you, maybe even love you, but you have a purpose to fulfill. Along with everyone else.”

“Wha- What is- Fuck you!” “Such a pretty face with a vulgar mouth.” He squeezed tighter and even shook your head. “Now, where was- oh! Right! Well, we’ve reached the third act, as Mindy would say and so it’s time to make some killings.”

In a flash, a blinding heat crept up your side and you tried to gasp for air you couldn’t retrieve. You scratched and clawed at Ethan’s arm just for a simple gulp of air. The pain only worsened when he twisted, you assume a knife, in your side making the spots come back.

He removed his hand just as you were about to pass out and he pulled the knife out before going back in. You screamed and cried, the pain only amplified by the person causing it. You stopped fighting, your will to live slipping from your buttery fingers.

“Shush, shush, it’s okay. Everything is okay.” Ethan cooed in your ear as he stroked your hair from your damp skin. You don’t know what was worse, that he was comforting you just as he stabbed you and broke your heart or that you enjoyed the tiny hint of the other Ethan.

He dropped the bloody knife beside you and held your face between his hands, gentle as always, and he kissed your forehead. You eye the knife and make small moves inching closer. He moved from your forehead to your nose to your right cheek then your left. He pulled just an inch or two away as he looked into your blurry eyes, his thumbs stroking your sweaty skin. At this moment you decided to indulge in the sweet kisses, needing just something, anything. So as Ethan leaned back in you closed your eyes, hand closing around the knife hilt, and got swept away by the familiar rhythm of kissing your boyfriend. Soft and slow, taking all the time in the world to just memorize each other before pulling away.

“You could have been spared if you didn’t help kill him.” He whispered to your lips. His breath hit your wet and parted lips. “Him? Who’s him?” “My brother.” He sighed.

Your brows furrowed, “bro- brother? You- you said he died in -“ “oh, you sweet dumb thing. I’ll spell it out for you. Richie.” Your eyes widened.

“He- he and Amber- they tried to kill us! For a- a- a stupid movie! It was self-defense!”

“And what we’re doing as a family is getting revenge. Hope you understand, sweetheart.”

Your nostrils flared as you got a tight grip and looked directly into his eyes with a straight smile, “and this is just self-defense.” The blade sunk into the meat of Ethan’s side and it pushed him off your body and to the floor beside you. “Hope you understand,” you voiced his words back as you scrambled away, your body screaming at you to stop. Your adrenaline is the only thing keeping you upright.

-

You weren’t sure where you were running to, turning corners, and being met with a locked door before you had to retrace your steps and go a different route. You found yourself stumbling back into the snack area of the theater and you whimpered as you found Chad lying on the floor with blood coating his Blackmore university hoodie. You wanted to walk to him and check if he was breathing but Tara and Sam were missing and you hadn’t run into Kirby yet.

With a shot of pain and blood spilling with each step, you pushed forward. A hand pressed to the wall was your anchor as you traveled back to the shrine, hoping you’ll find someone alive and not the killer. As you got closer to where you remembered the main theater was, you could hear voices talking, overlapping, or yelling over each other.

As you turned a final corner you peered into the room making sure you were still hidden in the shadows for now. The glass boxes blocked the view but you could see the backs of Sam and Tara, their heads moving as the people around them spoke. You looked further into the room and gasped. Detective Bailey stood with two ghost faces beside him, masks still on their faces. You already knew who one of them was, Ethan, the one with a hand to their side. But the second one you couldn’t think of who, it couldn’t have been Mindy… it just couldn’t have…. could it?

“Mindy?” You heard Sam voice your thoughts after Ethan pulled his mask away. How his face and smile still made your heart thump rapidly.

The final killer revealed themself, “Quinn?” Tara was flabbergasted as was Sam and you along with them as you decided to make yourself known. Probably a bad idea, but you were losing brain cells the longer you bled out, and your decision-making wasn’t the wisest at the moment.

On shaky legs, you made your way to your friends. With a glance to the ground you saw Kirby, beaten and bloody, but her chest was moving so that was a relief. A bloody hand touched each glass case as you walked further, needing all the help to push forward.

“Ah, I was wondering where she went. Seems Ethan already had some fun with her.” “Well, I was the first to get her since she intervened with Tara and Chad.”

Sam and Tara turned your way and the looks on their faces made you feel a bit of relief to know they were worried about you just as you were with them. Tara made her way to you but was stopped by Ethan who stood in front of you and swung the knife in front of her like she was a feral animal.

“Don’t! Don’t touch her, only I can touch her.” He kept the knife held high as he rounded yourself and threw an arm over your stomach and pulled you into his chest. A grunt came out from the impact. His solid frame and weight were a nice wall to keep you upright, so you leaned your head against his collarbones and held his arm as you slumped a bit.

“See. She wants me, always.” “She’s fucking bleeding out, dumbass!” Tara yelled at him as she kept her eyes on you.

“Well, Quinn got a bit too aggressive-“ “Fuck off, lover boy.” “- And I stabbed her two times. But she’s a survivor, she already survived a few stabbings in Woodsboro.” He kissed your temple and in your haze, you smiled at the touch. “She can survive a few more.”

“What the fuck do you even want from us? Can’t you horror freaks leave us the hell alone?” Sam sneered at the three.

“This isn’t about movies. Not a fan of the genre, but my oldest fell in love with them. He wanted to make his own Stab movie since he said the last one wasn't like the originals. But he died before he could, his death is on your hands.” Bailey pointed his gun at Sam.

“Wh- what the hell are you talking about?”

“Ri- Richie.” You muttered out since you knew the answer to her question.

“What does Richie-“ “He was our brother, you fucking bitch.” Quinn pushed Sam in the chest causing her to stumble backward into a display.

“E- Ethan… p-please,” you slid down his chest, his arms holding you tight as your knees touched the floor and he placed your head in his lap. “You’ll be okay sweetheart. After all this we’ll get you to the hospital, I can make an exception for you.” His black glove stroked your cheek. He moved from under you and laid you down between displays and that’s when you passed out.

-

You felt like you were thrown under a bus and driven over multiple times. Loud beeps echoed in your ears and you wished to block them out but you couldn’t lift your arms without your muscles aching. You tried prying your eyes open, they felt heavy and crusty, your lashes fluttering in your vision. The white light of the room hurt your head and you hissed at the brightness.

You were able to move your head from side to side to look around the hospital room. You were met with Sam hunched over her lap as she twiddled with her fingers, as her hair covered her face.

“S- Sam.” Your cracked voice called out to her making her head jerk up, a smile came to her lips and her eyes were shining.

“Oh thank god. We thought- you passed out as the three of them went after us. I shot Quinn and Killed Bailey…”

“And Ethan?” “Tara stabbed him through the mouth and then somehow he lived to run at us before Kirby pushed a TV onto his head.” She rolled her lips and looked at her hands that rested atop your bedding next to your thigh.

“Oh.” You don’t know what you expected to hear. A part of you was glad that Ethan was dead, he tried to kill you and your friends. But… you’ll miss him. It was like you saw him as two different people. Ethan Landry was sweet and gentle, soft-spoken and smart, and a bit awkward around girls. And then this Ethan… if he was related to Bailey and Quinn, then he was Ethan Bailey in that theater. Getting revenge for his brother no matter what the consequences are, stabbing you and taunting you, using your love for him against you.

“I’m sorry.” Sam touched your arm. “For what,” you shrugged your shoulders and played with a loose string from the blanket.

“That the boy you loved used it against you and manipulated you. After- after what happened in Woodsboro… you were so quiet, closed off. You barely let the four of us in and it scared us. But when Chad started to bring Ethan around and more comfortable with the group… We saw you slowly let your guard down. And I can’t be one to judge, I always have my guard up and I’ll fully be on your side if your wall goes back up as well. It was just really nice to see you be a bit free, enjoying life with a boy you liked and hanging with your friends in a new city.”

The tears rolled from your eyes and down your cheeks silently as you listened to Sam’s words. Ethan helped you be comfortable with yourself again and he just broke it all over again.

“The universe hates us, doesn't it?” You laughed through the tears and Sam joined in, agreeing with you, “but it’s making us stronger. For what? I have no fucking clue.”

You wiped away the salty water, “uh, where’s- where’s Tara and Mindy? Did- Did Chad live?”

“Everyone is alive. Mindy and Tara are with Chad right now since he woke up before you. But I can go get them if you want?” She started to pull away, “no, no. I’m fine with just the two of us for now.” You didn’t want to be alone for even a second.

“Why don’t you go back to sleep? You could use some more rest.” She pushed the hair away from your face, a motherly, sisterly gesture that warmed your heart.

You complied and shuffled around in the tiny bed and closed your eyes. You hoped to dream of warm afternoons, a cool breeze that tangled your hair and kissed your cheeks. You hoped for a nice place in New York with your friends- your family, all of you laughing and dancing around as music played in the background. You dreamed of a fantasy far away in your mind of a tall boy with fluffy hair and gentle eyes, how he would smile at you sickly sweet like honey and he would open his arms for you to run into and give you tight squeezes. He would leave kisses over your face before diving into your lips and melding them together before letting his tongue slip in and his hands would hold your neck as he pushed further. You would pull away just to catch a breath and you both would giggle like school children before you tucked your face into his neck and you would mumble the words into his skin.

“I love you”

...

@astrxq (fellow ethan lover)

[sitp-recs]

Hi Liv,

Do you have any fics when an event acts as an “emotional catalyst” for either Harry or Draco? Like one them being hurt or in a near death situation that triggers some moment of clarity or confession of feelings? Thank you.

What a great ask, anon! Here are some fics that came to mind, not all of them involve danger or near death situations but I hope they work all the same :) enjoy!

the keys to your kingdom by thistle_verse (E, 7k)

It was nothing so elegant as fucking, the first time they came together. It was teeth just a little too sharp— against a collarbone, on the right-side curve of a jaw, drawing blood from the plushest part of a bottom lip. It was the doorframe digging into the curve his spine was making of its own volition: closer, harder, more.

Night Changes by Writcraft (E, 10k)

Draco and Harry have spent years dancing around one another, but Potter’s straight and married. Until one day he isn’t.

What Real Thing? By loveglowsinthedark (E, 12k)

They don’t cuddle, they don’t talk about their relationship (or lack thereof) and they certainly never fall asleep in each other’s arms.

White as Snow by bixgirl1 (E, 19k)

After a quick escape from danger, Harry and Draco find themselves trapped in a blizzard, a small cabin their only refuge from the storm. It's the perfect place to recover and regroup — and to have a long-overdue conversation or two.

Don't Stop It Before It Begins by mischieviolet (M, 19k)

“I don’t understand how this is of any concern to you, Malfoy,” Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest. Draco blinked at the use of his last name, something that Harry only used with him in jest these days. “I’m merely spending time with my Auror partner, who is from another country, and has no one here. I would do the same if it were you.”

The Partner, The Rival and The Very Big Case by oceaxe (E, 24k)

When Harry and Nott are paired up to go undercover as fake boyfriends, Draco is disappointed not to get the assignment. It's just professional jealousy that's making him feel so upset. Obviously. He's engaged to be married to Astoria, after all.

Time and Again by lauren3210 (E, 28k)

Draco has an important research assignment, and he needs Auror protection. Harry’s a little concerned, not only because he can’t even pronounce the places Draco’s dragging him off to, but because there’s the slightest chance he might do something stupid, like tell Draco all about that little crush he’s been harbouring for a while now...

(The Piece) I was Missing All Along by lauren3210 (E, 30k)

Draco and Harry have been flatmates and best friends for years, and Draco thinks life is just perfect that way. But when something comes along and threatens to take all that away, Draco has to decide what it is he really wants, and just how hard he's going to work to get it.

Potential Gravity by zeitgeistic (E, 32k)

Draco is not good at Cards Against Humanity, but Harry’s not good at being human, so it all works out. Except for the explosions. And Harry’s inability to live when Draco’s not around.

What Dreams May Come by firethesound (E, 36k)

If Harry had to get called into work on his day off, at least he was able to get Malfoy called in too.

Highly (in)Compatible by daisymondays (T, 36k)

Draco’s been shagging The Prat Who Lived on and off for a few months when his soul mark starts to change. Draco’s had to accept a lot of adjustments to his life, but accepting that Harry Potter could be his soulmate is one step too far. It can’t be true? Can it?

Merlin Works in Mysterious Ways by lordhellebore (M, 82k)

When Harry is forced to form a Blood Bond with Draco Malfoy under threat of death, he thinks his future will consist of a cold home and sexual frustration. But when a group of left-over Death Eaters decides to stir trouble, their lives change completely – and it takes them both some years to figure out whether it’s for better or for worse.

[livwritesstuff]

uh so i was feeling like writing something angsty and ever since i wrote this a little bit ago i can’t stop thinking about the idea of what the upside down coming back decades later would look like, however it’s a bummer and not the vibe i want for my steddie!dads verse so consider this an au for an au or whatever idk

It’s a normal, average, mundane, regular Wednesday when Dustin calls.

They don’t talk as much as they used to, but that’s adult life, Steve supposes. 

They both have entire lives now, spouses and children and jobs that consume pretty much every waking hour. The near-1000 miles that separates Steve and Eddie in Massachusetts from Dustin in Indiana doesn’t help things either, and seeing as how Dustin had long-since inherited the Hawkins Lab research from Owens when he retired back in the mid-2000s, that won’t be changing any time soon.

Steve is home when Dustin calls, and between counseling clients, so when the phone rings and lights up with his name, Steve picks it up with a grin.

“Hey man, what’s goin’ on!”

Nothing but silence comes through Dustin’s end for a while – such a long time that Steve checks to make sure that the call didn’t drop or his phone didn’t die or something (and neither had happened, so it’s definitely a Dustin thing).

“Dustin?” he asks, “You there?”

Silence, still.

Then –

“Steve.”

Dustin sounds…not normal, and Steve feels the grin slide off his face.

“What?”

“Steve,” he chokes, “It’s…it’s back.”

Steve feels his heart stop for a second, feels it like all the blood in his veins came to an abrupt halt for just a moment.

“The Upside Down,” Dustin continues, “It…all of…it’s back.”

He sounds like he’s underwater, or maybe Steve’s the one sinking beneath the surface, just like he’d done forty years ago when he’d taken Dustin’s place on that boat and got dragged into hell through the depths of Lover’s Lake.

Steve hangs up the phone, his hands shaking.

His knees feel shaky too, like they can’t support his weight anymore despite doing so for nearly sixty years.

They’ve been giving him problems lately – his knees. Nothing too crazy; he can still go on his runs and putter around the yard and all that. It’s just a part of aging, he supposes, and he hadn’t minded aging before – liked it, even. Liked his greying hair and the crow’s feet around his eyes and his achy knees, because there’d been a period of time many years ago when he wasn’t sure he’d make it long enough to experience that inevitability of life.

Right this second though, he hates it, hates the way it makes him realize he’s not as nimble as he used to be, the way his reaction time isn’t the same anymore, because he knows that’s what had gotten him through those horrible years back in the mid-eighties.

He lowers himself down, and as his ass hits the tile floor of the bathroom – his daughters’ bathroom, the one they’ve shared practically their whole lives, the one Moe lost her first tooth in, the one Robbie pierced her own ears in, the one Hazel will be getting ready for prom in soon – Dustin calls him again.Steve doesn’t pick up, too busy kicking himself for not considering sooner the possibility of this sooner, for not having a plan ready to execute to keep their daughters safe the way no adult had done for him.

He can feel an old instinct – the urge to gather his loved ones close – starting to kick in, his mind starting to race as he catalogs the people who make up his small corner of the world. 

Hazel is easy – she’s at the high school just down the road. He can have her back home, back within arm’s reach, in a matter of minutes.

Robin and Nancy are next closest, still living in Boston after all these years. Steve would wager a guess that they’ll be hearing from Dustin soon if they haven’t already, and then they’ll probably head Steve and Eddie’s way, and then they’ll all regroup. 

They’ll figure out what their next moves are.

Moe and Robbie are trickier with both of them living in New York City and likely unwilling to leave their school and their jobs and their friends without any warning whatsoever. Moe is getting more and more reasonable the older she gets, so Steve may have to start with her and hope that Robbie follows.

Moe is twenty-two now. 

Moe is older than both of her dads had been when Eddie had nearly died, when Steve had carried him out of hell and made sure he didn’t. All three of their daughters – even seventeen-year-old Hazel – are older than Steve had been when he got sucked into that horrible mess, and they’re still so damn young. 

With two decades of parenting under his belt, he finds it kind of unbelievable that anybody had looked at his sixteen-year-old face and seen anything but a child, nevermind actually asked him to do the things that he’d done.

Dustin calls him two more times before he gives up. Only a moment later, Steve hears Eddie’s phone ring downstairs, and then he hears Eddie’s jovial tone as he answers the call. 

He goes quiet real quick after that.

Just as Steve is deciding who to call first – Hazel’s school or Moe – his phone vibrates, two quick buzzes that can only indicate a text from Robin.

He opens it.

did dustin call you?

Steve lets out a heavy breath because, fuck, it’s real.

Yeah, he texts back, then adds –

This fucking sucks

40 years

As Steve watches the bubbles of Robin’s incoming response, he can vaguely hear Eddie’s ascent of the stairs, still on the phone with Dustin. 

The bubbles disappear.

“Fuck you, Dustin,” he hears Eddie snarl, “This is on you.” There’s silence for a while, and Eddie seems to pause in the hallway just in front of their bedroom door. Then, “Yeah, I’ll talk to him…I know…later, man. Love you. Be safe.”

Steve looks down at his phone to see that Robin is still typing, only for the bubbles to disappear again a second later.

Finally –

nance is going back

i’m going with her

Steve could throw up.

He almost does, he’s pretty sure, although he’s not positive because he might be having an out of body experience, or maybe he’s dissociating, or maybe it’s a fucking PTSD flashback or something. He doesn’t know.

He should know, or so his handful of psych degrees would suggest, and he probably would know if it was happening to someone else, but then again, he’s always worn blinders when it comes to himself.

That was true about him when all this shit started in 1983, and it’s still true now, almost forty years later.

Forty fucking years.

He doesn’t look up when Eddie comes into the bathroom, joining him on the floor with his back against the bathtub.

“Dustin took offense to you hanging up on him,” he says, and Steve can hear the way he’s forcing humor into his tone.

As if any of this shit is funny.

“Erica and the kids left with Claudia,” Eddie continues, answering a question Steve probably would’ve gotten around to asking Dustin himself if it weren’t for the whole hanging up on him thing, “Erica went kicking and screaming, obviously. I offered up our house, but they’re still deciding where they want to camp out. And everyone has agreed not to say a word to Jim and Joyce.”

Yeah, that makes sense, seeing as they’re both in their eighties and perpetually acting like they’re thirty years younger – at a minimum.

Not that Steve would know anything about that.

Definitely not.

“He said he’s one-hundred percent positive that it’s all still contained to Hawkins, so…” Eddie pauses, “We don’t have to, like, track down the girls or anything. Just make sure they don’t go anywhere near Indiana.”

And that, at least, is an actual relief.

“Robin’s going back,” Steve tells him, because there’s no point waiting to address that particular issue in this whole fucking mess.

The so I’m going too is implied, because that has never needed to be said when it came to Steve and Robin.

The way Eddie’s face changes evades Steve’s ability to describe. It makes him regret saying anything – that’s for fucking sure. Makes him wish he’d just snuck away in the dead of night.

“C’mon man, we’ve picked up a whole fuckin’ litter over the years,” Eddie says, and he’s still forcing humor into his tone, “You can’t leave me to fend off the masses alone – the years have made me weak-willed, I’ll surrender immediately.”

Steve manages a snort, but he still looks down at the floor all the same.

Eddie doesn’t say anything else for a while, but his hand wraps around Steve’s ankle as if there was enough brute strength in the one appendage to keep him rooted to the bathroom floor.

(Strangely enough, it feels like there might be).

“Steve,” Eddie finally says, his voice stiff and hard in a way Steve doesn’t think he’s ever heard before, “We are way too old for this shit – Robin and Nance too.”

Eddie pauses.

“Steve,” he says again, “I know how important Robin is. I know, but our children would be fucking devastated if anything happened to you. Don’t think they wouldn’t – and something would most certainly happen to you.”

“Eddie.” 

He’s still avoiding his husband’s eyes.

“Steve,” he pleads, something desperate in his voice, “We talked about this. Remember? Last spring, when we watched that stupid zombie show with Hazel? And there was the episode with the old gay guys? We talked about this. You told me not to let you go if this shit came back.”

Steve makes no response. Ed lets out a heavy breath, looking to the ceiling.

They have this conversation every now and then – one of those conversations that always teeters on the edge of an argument – in which Eddie insists that Steve could be fine if their relationship ended in a way that Eddie himself would not. It’s a conversation that Steve hates, because he hates the idea that Eddie – his husband of twenty years and the love of his whole entire life – could still be thinking so low of himself, that there’s any part of him that doesn’t think Steve would be fucking wrecked by losing him.

Still, it had always been a hypothetical. It had never been real.

Suddenly, Steve feels claustrophobic sitting on the floor of his daughters’ bathroom. He gets to his feet and, as he heads for the door, Eddie scrambles up after him.

Halfway down the hall, Eddie lunges for him and catches his arm, wheeling him back around to face him.

“Steve,” Eddie says one more time. 

Then, because he apparently has no words ready to follow with, he stops.

“Steve,” Eddie starts again, “Please. You’re everything. I love the girls and I love our life, but Christ, Steve, you’re my entire world. You changed everything for me. You showed me how life could be worth living, and you keep showing me, and I’m not ready to let go of you yet – not even fucking close. Please don’t let this be the way we leave each other.”

Steve finally lets himself look at Eddie’s face, the face he’d fallen in love with decades ago, the face he’s still in love with decades later. He looks at his big eyes and the hint of grey at his hairline and his crows feet and the scarring that creeps up his neck from underneath the collar of his shirt (it’s a shirt he’s had for ages – since before even Moe was born by the looks of it, but so is the rest of his half of their closet).

And he finds himself nodding.

Eddie’s exhale is all desperate relief as he tugs Steve into his arms and wraps them around his shoulders. Steve immediately reciprocates the hug, pulling him in even closer, surprised to feel tears pin-pricking his eyes

“I love you so much, Steve,” Eddie tells him, gripping the back of his t-shirt so tight he feels the collar pulling taut against his throat, “I don’t say that to you enough.”

“You say it all the time,” Steve replies with a wet laugh.

“Not enough,” he shakes his head, and Steve decides there’s no point in arguing.

A minute goes by.

“Fuck,” Steve half-laughs, half-chokes as he lifts his head to meet Eddie’s eyes, “This fucking sucks.”

“I know,” he says. 

Again, he reels Steve in, and again, Steve lets him, holding onto his husband like a lifeline, like they’re standing somewhere far more perilous than the carpeted floor of their upstairs hallway.

“I know,” Eddie repeats, “And we’ll…we’ll talk about it but for now, just – can I just hold you for a bit, okay?”

Steve nods again.

“Okay.”

read the extended version on AO3 (i.e. feat. added “flashbacks” so it fits the formatting of the rest of the series)

[misguidedasgardian]

Wild Cats (Part IX)

IX. The road ahead

MASTERLIST

Summary: You leave Atlanta in hopes of finding refuge, a place to be, to belong

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Zombie apocalypse AU, living dead, zombies, guts, blood, guns, injures, cannibalism, 

+18, MINORS DNI

Notes: Bare it with me, my favorite trope is arranged marriage because I have no idea how to build it up, haha, and Daryl is so complex, but I’m giving it my best shot alright?

You ran out of Atlanta, abandoning like it was riddled with the plague, not that it wasn’t already, but you get the meaning.

You were not going to DC, you were not going to Lake Lanier. 

At least not yet, you were driving Noah to his house first which was on the way to Washington DC, Beth had insisted, You were a big group, you were slower because of it, but all of you were seasoned survivors by now, you were strong together.

You came to know that you had lost Bob, which didn’t personally upset you since you never even spoke to him, but Sasha was terribly sad, as he was her partner, and it was awful to lose someone, whoever that was.

You gathered Gabriel, Michonne, Carl and Judith, and you started your long journey

Usually, it would be like eight hours of driving to DC, but traveling had gotten extremely slow in the apocalypse, especially since most roads were cut. You had barely drove for a couple of hours until you had to stop in a small industrial neighborhood, both because rather the car had decided to stop working and also you needed to change cars and regroup

But the sun was falling over the horizon, so you offered yourself to clear out a bodega nearby, with a couple of floors of offices, more comfortable for sleeping.

“I’ll go with ya”, jumped Daryl, who had barely even looked at you since they rescued Beth. You wanted to say no, that you didn’t need a babysitter

“I’ll go too”, said Rosita, and you were relieved. Something had shifted in the dynamic of that group, Abraham barely spoke, usually he was so driven, but now, since it was revealed that the whole cure thing was a lie, Eugene had an ugly bruise on his face and Abraham sat in the back seat and just looked forwards, didn’t even offer himself to drive.

You and Rosita took the lead while Daryl, behind you, had his crossbow standing in attention. You opened the thick door to the outside to reveal an empty hallway, you took your ax with your left hand and your gun with your right, you had been gifted with being ambidextrous, and you had nurtured it during your time alone.

You knocked on every door, clearing it office by office. 

It wasn’t until you reached the warehouse at the very end of the hallway when the fun began, at least ten walkers came for you as soon as you opened the door.

“Let’s get the party started”, you muttered, Rosita only smirked.

Daryl stood behind you, you felt him shift uncomfortably, as you and Rosita, knife and ax in hand, threw yourself at the walkers

Piercing skulls was more difficult than it seemed, truly. Well, in your experience it really depended on the… state… of the walker you were about to hit.

You drew the first walker blood, as you took the first one out of his undead misery with a swing of your ax, the second one was coming near, so you kicked it, made it stumble back giving you a few moments to take foot and end him too.

At some point this became cathartic. like a relief, you were ending the enemy, fighting the fight, the living VS the dead

You and Rosita fought them all, Daryl ended a couple of them, saying nothing, but you appreciated that he gave you your space to do what you had to do, what you offered yourself to. 

Rosita was badass, she was, her movements were impeccable as she took those walkers out, you exchanged looks and she smiled at you

“Those were some sick moves”, she admitted, “not bad new girl”, you chuckled

“Not so bad yourself Espinosa”, you said back with a wink

Daryl just watched the scene, interested. 

“Should we clean more floors?”, you said

“Damn straight”, she said, “let’s see what else we can find”, she said, after taking a look around, there were only boxes filled with odd metallic pieces you couldn’t recognize. So you moved on from the warehouse, Daryl barely nodded, and followed you like he was your bodyguard

With everything that had happened lately, being saved by Daryl repeatedly and then judged harshly by Carol and him too, you wanted to show what you could do, looking to prove yourself again, but this time, for your own sake, rather than to prove anything to them, if anything, you were annoyed that Daryl was there looking over your shoulder.

You went room by room on the second floor, as usual, you didn’t find anything too exciting. a couple of walkers.

A thing that you never liked to do… was to play detective, to draw a story about who these people were, how did they die if they were alone, you tried not to… look… too much at the scenes. You had seen things, terrible things, that you did not wish to remember right now.

So you tried to separate… walker from person…. they were not people anymore, and that is what you were comfortable with

You took a swing so hard your ax got stuck in the wall, you had to use your leg as leverage to take it out. 

It was a good exercise, you were afraid you were getting out of practice 

You cleaned up every floor, without a single bullet being shot, you took them out one by one.

As you cleared the last office, finding a couple of nice bottles of scotch in what it looked to be the boss’ office 

With complacent smiles and a good bounty you returned to the group after having a couple of swings from the bottle, only Rosita and you, Daryl, denied to take a sip.

You returned and Rick seemed impressed, so they all entered the building you had secured. 

The rest of them were scouting the area, searching specially for gas for the cars. You still had the things you had from your safehouse, so you ate together in a cleared office. 

These moments where odd, dining all together, like a strange family, with lots of uncles, and nephews and nieces

It was odd, but it felt nice.

Then the scotch appeared and they all seemed content, taking drinks, for different reasons…

Many of them celebrated they found Beth and their group was put together again, the others, for sorrows, for the broken promise of a solution to all this madness. Some celebrated that we were fine, and on our path to something better, others tried to drown their fears of the uncertainty of the near future.

But there wasn’t enough buzz for anybody to get really drunk, so after dinner, everybody split up.

Everybody knew what to do for the night, the scavengers looked for useful things around in the small neighborhood, the others prepared for the journey the next day, others set up lookouts points to take guard, Beth and Rick stayed with the kids. 

You felt weary of Rick, and how he treated you so delicately, so, you did what you used to do best, you went to the roof. You were a bit tired after slaying a dozen walkers so, you guessed you could take the first watch from the high point of the area. 

You came out the door of the roof, and you weren’t surprised when you saw Daryl there, you had seen him sneak out of the room when the liquor started pouring 

You were starting to… getting to know him better, he was the guardian of the group, always making sure everyone was safe and fed. You couldn’t sneak up on him, he was already looking at you when you found him.

“You should sleep a bit”, you said softly, he only acknowledged you and nodded, growling a bit. He tended to do a lot of that, just a little rumble, a sound from way inside his throat, but you were learning to interpret them

“What ‘bout ya’?”, he asked

“I have been training myself to sleep at day”, you said, with a soft smile. 

You sat right by his side, completely violating his personal space, but he didn’t seem to mind. It was not that he was paying close attention to what was going on, it was just that he couldn’t sleep. You didn’t say anything, you didn’t speak, you just sat there, breathing softly, looking at the scenery with sharp eyes. He was seated against a big squared vent, close to the edge, so you could see a lot of the area front here, even if you were setting there

You didn’t say anything else.

. . . 

It’s been a while since Daryl felt this peaceful

He felt relaxed, even deep in slumber, when he started to come to his senses, he felt a soft sway, like the one of a boat in a tranquil lagoon with barely any ripples in water. Then, he heard, he felt, your soft breathing, on top of his head, on his forehead, the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was the top curve of your breasts, hiding comfortably in your brassier, under your soft looking shirt with a generous V-neck line. He saw your chest, your beautiful skin, how soft it seemed, he wished he could touch it… he tried to look up but the angle didn’t allow him to see your face, so he regained control of his body and he separated himself from you.

There you were, peacefully sleeping as he had been, the sun was already shining softly in the horizon.

When he realized how much he was leaning into you he separated himself from you, and that is what woke you, the lack of the presence of the archer stuck to your side as it was when you finally went to sleep

He couldn’t believe he had lowered his guard like this, and not because he didn’t trust you, but because he was supposed to be on guard, vigilant, taking care of his group

“It’s already morning”, you said groggily

He couldn't believe he had been looking at your cleavage, what was he thinkin?

He couldn't believe he had been looking at you like a deer in headlights since he met you, that he had never felt this comfortable in who knows how long, that he was almost impressed when he saw how you took down those walkers with only your ax, he couldn’t believe he was… feeling this… things… he… he stood up like the floor was lava, like you would burn him

“We gotta go”, he said quickly, you barely nodded, and he left you there, alone.

You didn’t even understand what was going on, but he almost sprinted full speed away from you. 

You stood up, the uncomfortable position you took all night taking a toll on your sore extremities, but to no matter, he was right.

You went down the stairs and found Rick, Carol, Glenn and Maggie, who looked at you and where you had come from. Rick looked at you kind of concerned, Maggie and Glenn with funny faces, entertained, and Carol seemed angry.

“Morning”, you greeted softly, “is everything alright?”

“Except by the fact that Daryl ran off, yes”, said Maggie with a silly smile, you felt your cheeks heated, looking everywhere but at their faces

“We were discussing how to proceed ahead”, said Rick, “with the big group we have”, you nodded and kept walking.

“No luck with more gas?”, you asked, and they shook their heads, “there are other towns nearby”, you said softly.

“Yes, let’s move to the next one”, said Rick, “let’s pack up and go”, he commanded

“I’ll make sure everybody has some place to take provisions, so we can divide the weight”, said Carol.

You walked back where everybody was refreshing themselves, you had found a working bathroom so everybody took turns to freshen up. You had checked the tank upstairs and still was halfway filled with water.

“Where have you been?”, asked Rosita with a smirk

“I slept on the roof, old habits die hard I guess”, you said with a shy smile

“Alooone?”, she tease, but you only shook your head with a smile, and kept moving

Last night meant nothing, you literally just offered your shoulder to sleep on and he accepted, nothing less or nothing more. 

Everybody packed up, and you started moving, leaving the huge fire truck behind.

You started walking North, you were a big group and you felt safe, for the first time in ages, there were no hordes or walkers near and you followed a road up north, a small road, to not draw too much attention to yourselves, from neither the living or dead.

You walked until you saw a sign, saying that you were already in South Carolina, you had left Georgia behind, and your plan to go to Lake Lanier. You don't resent Rick for leading you towards Washington, it was the sanest idea.

You didn’t even know what was there, an old margarita ville, cabins, yachts and a big hotel, it could be a huge bust, right?

So you just went along, is not like you could separate from them and go yourself, you didn’t want to split up, you felt safe with them, you felt like a force of nature, to be reckoned with 

At first, you were walking all together, on a line, as the day progressed you started to separate in groups, some started talking amongst themselves, you got a bit delayed and walked behind them, hand in your holster, ready for everything.

You were guarding them, taking care of them even from a bit afar, so that would give you a bit of perspective for possible dangers.

The sun was burning you from above, right a the center of the sky when you stop for something to eat

You still had bottled water to last you for today and maybe breakfast tomorrow, but no more than that, so you hoped you could find a town for tonight.

RIck looked for you with his eyes, and when he found you, he seemed concerned

“You alright?”, he asked, cradling Judith against his chest, you nodded

“Yeah sure”, you muttered

“I know you believed Lake Lanier was the way to go, but…”

“It's fine Rick”, you said simply, “I was just protecting our backs”, you said with a smile, he nodded placing a hand on your shoulder

“Thank you”, he said

You helped Tyresse, Beth, Carol and Noah to make food for everyone, Daryl set the fire of course and then escaped into the woods, out of sight. 

You baked some canned beans, in cans, and everyone seemed contented, you didn’t have anything better, and there were a lot of you, 

You wondered what happened to all the farm animals… in farms… the dead also ate animals, the fuckers, they were going to eat you too… farms you gathered, were screwed, specially those with small paddocks, nowhere for the animals to run from the dead.

You really wanted some eggs and rice right now, you never liked beans.

You chuckled just thinking about it, oh the things you had to eat now…

“What’s so funny?”, asked Rick, truly interested, you only shook your head

“I was just thinking how I wish I could eat eggs with rice right now, I never liked beans, and then I remembered we are in the middle of the apocalypse”, you laughed, and despite the surreal of the situation, everybody laughed

“I would give everything for some barbecue ribs”, muttered Abraham

“Tacos al pastor”

“A cheeseburger”

“Sushi form that japanese place near my apartment”

“Ceviche”

“Some pizza from Domino’s”

And everybody shared their desired foods, well, except Sasha, she looked utterly horrified by the topic, like she couldn’t believe what you were saying

You continued after that, taking out the fire.

You kept moving.

This time, you wanted to walk back, like you have done, but Daryl, surprisingly, had the same idea, he walked behind the group, and naturally, you started walking together.

“What was your favorite food?”, you asked him softly

“Wha’?”, he asked back

“Back there we all shared what we would like to eat, from before”, you said, “what would be your food?”, you asked softly, he looked back at you quizzically

“What kind of idiot question is tha’?”, you looked down, a bit embarrassed

“Well, just making conversation”, you whispered. an awkward silence stood between you now.

“Roast chicken”, he said then, you looked up at him

“Good choice”, you said, “A classic”, he looked at you, you looked back at him, and he actually smiled softly at you.

You kept walking, in a silence that wasn’t awkward anymore.

@crazyunsexycool

[espinosaurusrexex]

Bucky and presumed dead 🔥🔥🔥 you can chose if he thinks y/n is dead or y/n thinks he’s dead

You already know what I had to go with ahah. This was fun! 💗

Presumed Dead (Bingo Game)

!BINGO ASKS CLOSED!

Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: angst, language, fluff, some fighting, mentions of blood and injuries

part one | part two (each can be read individually)

“Sergeant Barnes, the Mountain Base Mission Jet just arrived in Hangar 3.”

F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice echoed through the room and Bucky was quick to push himself off the sofa and head towards the door. He was excited to see his teammates again. You, Steve, Natasha, and Clint had been sent out to raid a Hydra Base hidden in an Alaskan mountain eight days ago. And even though Bucky had missed you a lot these past days, he knew that it was part of your job. Just as it was part of Bucky's. You occasionally checked in with each other every other day when missions lasted that long, but when things got difficult, it was common for either of you to stop communicating to focus on the mission. And that was okay. Of course, Bucky still worried about you and his friends, but he also knew that each and every member of the mission team was a capable agent that knew how to handle difficult situations.

It had happened this time as well. The last time you had contacted Bucky was about three days ago. Which was why he was all the more excited to finally hold you in his arms again.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened to reveal the Quinjet Hangar. The hatch had not been opened yet, as the jet was hooked onto fuel and checked by the crew. Bucky stood by the metal reiling leading up to it with a big smile on his face and soon, the team appeared one after the other. First Clint, who was supported by Natasha as he limbed across the bridge. They were both covered in soot and blood. And as they weakly smiled when passing Bucky, his heart sank, smile fading slightly as well. He nodded in their direction.

Then Steve appeared with an equally devastated look on his face. But Bucky was still hopeful. He had yet to see you, and he knew your presence would light that positive fire within him like it always did. Steve hugged Bucky before a couple agents crowded him with paperwork and signatures. 

“How’ve you been, pal?”

“Oh, you know... bored. Stark covered me in paperwork.”

Steve just hummed in response and Bucky peaked behind him to the open jet. Where were you? He was nervous, he always was. But this time, it felt different. And when Bucky's eyes wandered from the jet back to Steve who was still signing forms, uneasiness pooled in his stomach. 

“Where’s my girl? She already inside?”

That’s when Steve excused the agents and pulled Bucky aside. His hand was still lingering on his arm when he spoke again. “She’s not here.”

“What? Why?”

“We needed to regroup. We’ll go back to get her in an hour.” Steve’s eyes were drilling into Bucky’s when he said it. Bucky swallowed thickly. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Why hadn’t you come with them in the first place?

Steve nodded sternly once and then he stepped aside and made his way to the medical wing. Bucky followed him hastily. There were still too many questions swarming his brain. 

“An hour? It’s freezing up there!” He stumbled behind the blonde until he finally caught up to him. Goddamn it, you hated the cold. Bucky despised the feeling of panic surging up his spine. He pictured you hurt and alone in the snow - lost and thinking that your team neglected you, which they had!

“We had complications. It was the only plausible move.” He pushed past the double doors and into the room Clint was being treated in. 

“Complications? What complications?”

“They knew we were coming. A bomb detonated when we pulled the files from their servers. Y/N was hurt. We barely made it out of the base,” Natasha spoke up when Bucky’s eyes searched the room in a panic. 

“Then why didn’t you bring her home?” His voice was shaken but he willed himself to calm down. There must have been a rational explanation for your not being here. Steve didn’t just leave people behind. Not unless...

“Buck..,” Steve reasoned, but it brought an uneasy tension into the room. The way they were all looking at him - looking at each other. It was dead silent. Clint pushed a nurse away when she approached him and Bucky knew something was very very wrong. “The explosion caused an avalanche that separated us. We looked for four hours, but we couldn’t keep going without putting the rest of the team in danger.”

Bucky clenched his jaw in the small pause Steve made. “Her wounds were fatal. She most likely didn’t make it… We’re going back to recover her body.”

Everything muted when Steve’s little speech was over, and Bucky just stared ahead. You weren’t dead. You couldn’t be. You were tough. You didn’t just die on a stupid mission. Not when Bucky had so many memories to make with you still. 

“No...” He whispered sorely, the lump in his throat growing as he watched the faces in the room sadden around him. “You just didn’t search properly. Maybe she hid away. She’s smart. She thinks tactical.” 

“I told you we will fly back in 55 minutes. ETA 1300. If she is alive, we will find her.” If she’s alive.

Bucky’s heart was racing. He felt it pulsing in his neck, along with a strong urge to punch a hole in the nearest thing around. “Why are you all so calm?! 55 minutes is too long! The damn flight there is too long!”

“Bucky-” Steve laid a hand on his shoulder.

But Bucky whipped around with vigor, stern eyes staring down his friend. “She’s not dead, Steve.”

They held eye contact for a solid minute, but the urge to hurry passed over Bucky again. You didn’t have time. Steve was staring at him with those stupid captain eyes. Those might have worked on others but not Bucky. Not him, he had always respected him - he just wanted a little of that back now. But Steve was too stubborn, and Bucky couldn’t grasp why. 

“I can’t believe this.” Bucky shook his head and then turned to suit up. He would definitely not wait 55 damn minutes. 

-❁-

Surprisingly, Steve had gotten the Jet ready when Bucky arrived at the Hangar in his suit, along with a change of clothes for you and some other necessities he thought he’d need. And when the two friends started their journey to Alaska, it was dead silent in the aircraft. The only noises were the initial communication with the compound and the constant whirring of the quinjet.

They were flying on autopilot now, sitting in their seats, keeping quiet as if it were a contest. Bucky actually had worrying thoughts about you that would occupy his brain for the remaining hours of the flight. He had to keep himself from crying when he packed up some clothes for you earlier and, to be honest, it wasn’t easier now. He hated that he didn’t know where you were, or what you were doing - how you were doing, most importantly. And he also couldn’t believe Steve would just leave you behind like that. Because Bucky knew for sure that his best friend was just as protective of you as he was himself... at least he thought so.

Steve watched him from across the room, his hands folded in his lap, a sorrowful look painting his features. And if Bucky weren’t so angry at him, he would have comforted the poor fella in front of him. But what he had done was unforgivable. He had left his girl to die. 

“What?” The brunette spat after another thirty minutes. God, the time was passing in slow motion. 

“I just want to say I’m sorry.” Steve looked up. “I know you’re angry and worried - I would be too - but you also need to understand that I have to think about the whole team in these situations. She would have wanted me to keep the others safe.”

“Are you kidding me right now? Why are you talking as if she’s already gone?!”

“Because she-” But Steve stopped abruptly, his mouth shutting, jaw clenching. The silence took back over and it was unbearable this time. The worrying, the anger, the fear - it was all too much. 

“Fuck!” Bucky shouted as he buried his head in his hands, body folding over. The tears were brimming in his eyes, and his breath was shaky. “I can’t do this, Steve. I can’t lose her. She’s my- I can’t lose her, Steve...” By the end, it was only a whisper. One that held the most painfully truthful words he’d ever said. And when the first tear fell between his legs to the ground, Steve laid his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. 

“We’ll find her, pal. We will...”

-❁-

Icy winds were whipping in their faces as the two super soldiers trekked over the mountain. They had already swept the place the bomb went off at, just to find the site was impassable. A little down the hill was where the debris had settled and beyond another elevation, was the place Natasha had last seen you.

Bucky was cold and drenched, but he wouldn’t stop searching until he found you. He had sworn himself that and he had made Steve swear on it too. There was no way he would leave this mountain without you, this much was clear. Whether he would die on the journey there was yet to be discovered. 

They passed another ice plane before Bucky finally stopped. Steve caught up to him and together they took in the new territory before them. It was hopeless, daylight was fading but Bucky wouldn’t relent. Not when your safety was on the line. Their view was obstructed by the grey sky and stormy clouds, and the high altitude made it hard to catch enough oxygen. Bucky swept the snow-covered landscape a second time. His eyes wandered over a rock to the valley.

“Bucky!” A fist met his shoulder and then pointed ahead into the snow. And upon further inspection, Bucky caught a spot of deep red disrupting the harsh white. 

He surged forward, stumbling down parts of the mountain with the newfound energy this sliver of hope it had given him. And when the men finally arrived, the big spot had already been covered by a thin layer of new snow. Blood.

“She went this way,” Bucky shouted over the wind as he trailed the growing accumulation of blood along the hillside.

It took another hour of stomping through the deep snow until Bucky and Steve finally came along a caved-in rock deeper in the mountain. Here, where the snowfall wasn’t as heavy, the blood was more visible. Bucky swallowed thickly before moving inside. He wasn’t prepared for finding your dead body - he couldn’t possibly. Because up until this point, he could still pretend you were alive. If he would find you now... there was no denying the worst outcome he could have possibly imagined. 

For the umpteenth time, Bucky felt his best friend’s hand squeezing his shoulder. But this time, it gave him the strength to finally move forward. Together, they went inside and followed the narrow gap between the rocks, their board shoulders barely fitting between the stones, But there was no way they would turn back now. They were close, Bucky knew it. 

When the cave opened up again, Bucky immediately called your name. The echoes bounced back strikingly loud in the opening, but nothing else reached his ears. He tried again, and again, each time moving deeper inside, his hand guiding him along the walls of the dark place and then, suddenly, his feet hit something soft - softer than stone. 

He leaned down, his hands immediately feeling up a body he was all too familiar with. But this time, cold and lifeless. A little clicking went through the cave and Steve’s flashlight turned on. 

“Doll, thank god!” Bucky shook your frame. As if in trance, he felt your weekend pulse. He moved you, called your name, anything to get you to wake up. But your face looked lifeless and cold, your suit covered in blood and drenched in ice-cold water. 

A pained moan left your lips, suddenly, weak and quiet, but definitely there. And Bucky felt his heart start beating for the first time since he set foot on Alaskan soil.

“Oh my god, Angel. You’re safe now. I promise you’re safe. Thank god!” Tears streamed down his cheeks when he turned to his friend again. 

“Steve, help me. Help me get her out.”

Together, the friends carried your body outside into the biting cold, over ice and snow, hills and debris until they finally reached the quinjet. And when Steve started the aircraft, Bucky cradled you tightly in his arms and rocked you, while he tried to warm you as best as he could. He had changed you out of the wet tactical suit and tended to your wounds as well as possible. His hands never left your body. Not when he changed into dry clothes, not when he got you blankets, not when your beautiful eyes finally opened and met his. 

“I knew you would make it, Angel. You’re a fighter. I’m so glad you’re alive.” He whispered to your temple after pressing hundreds of tiny kisses to your skin. 

He would never let you go again. Not now, not ever.

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