#anyone who sees this: is a personal plush tour something anyone would be interested in? 😳

[good-pokemon-center-reviews]

[yn-x-animeboy]

Jungkook x y/n (as a famous artist) Pt. 1

request: mine, my brain made me write this

pairing: reader x Jungkook

genre: fluff, romance, for entertainment purposes

BTS x Fem Reader

sinopsis: You are a popular artist in America, pretty famous, loved and well-known by the general public (actually you were one of the top 10 artists in the world but you are pretty humble and naïve to realize your popularity), one day during one of your fan meets you talk about how much you love BTS, and not only how you wish to meet them and work with them but how Jungkook is one of your celebrity crushes. During the meet you fangirled with other ARMYs in the crowd; video clips of you fangirling and talking about BTS at your meet where posted and reposted all over social media. This obviously broke the internet because you were not only a famous singer but you also were always accepted and loved by ARMY and this made a lot of people happy. Suddenly it felt like everyone wanted you to meet the seven handsome and talented idols and collaborate, but you could only wish, you believed they didn't even know who you were...or so you thought.

Pt. 1- Introduction. Your fan meet

Basically every couple of months you like to organize small get-togethers with your supporters as a way to have a closer contact with them, to get to know them, as a fanservice and to just thank them in a way. Lately you have been noticing one specific group of fan pages dedicated to you who have been really interactive and supportive on twitter; 

promoting your latest music video and the recent EPISODE of: y/n’s camera roll uploaded to your oficial platforms (your team uploaded a weekly video=episode to your channel; almost like Run BTS. Each episode had a different theme and your fans loved it)  this group of fan pages is constantly on your main page, so you decided to contact them and fly them out for a day in L.A. for one of your infamous meets so you could meet them.

You don't normally film your fan meetings, they are normally just a one on one gatherings between you and your fans,  but your team thought it could be a good idea to record today’s meet and upload parts of it for your weekly EPISODE, these were greatly appreciated by your international fans and other fans who wanted to see a little more into your personal life.

You were currently hanging out with the small group of fans you invited over. A group of around 10 boys and girls were currently sitting on the fluffy carpeted floor and some were sitting on plush chairs randomly spread in front of you. (a/n i imagine this setting like the Zach Sang Show, for the Ariana Grande interview episodes) 

You were sitting in front of them on a small white couch for two. Once everyone was comfortably settled in, you introduced yourself and invited the others to do so as well, one by one telling you their name, username, pronouns, age, and fun facts about them. You smiled wide, happy to be able to meet such amazing people and also making mental notes to remember their names and facts. 

After the personal introductions your camera crew was set up and ready to start, you told your fans sitting in front of you about how today's meet was going to be recorded and asked for their consent to upload said video; and then proceed to open for the camera; 

“Hello everyone welcome to another episode of…. f** I don't even know what we call these videos, jajajaja” 

Your fans sitting in front of you stated the name of the youtube series in a heartbeat;

“Wait what?... jajajajaja omg guys thank you, I'm so sorry, yeah you heard them, welcome back to y/n’s camera roll, I can’t believe I forgot that, anyway today’s episode is a little different……” you proceed to explain what the episode was about and thanking the future viewers for tuning in and watching the video. “Waw what a long introduction, so, before we actually go on and have the meet while you guys at home enjoy, I want to introduce you to the lovely group of people who I have invited here today….” Again proceed to introduce your fans to the camera by name, trying to not miss anyone and not butcher any name in the process.

After the introduction is done you porcede to carry out the fan meet like you normally do, you normally have scheduled sections of activities during your meets to make them fun; For today’s meet you all played games and did a couple challenges with your fans; then you recorded a couple of tik toks and instagram stories your fans asked you to be in, and casually all hung out. After a while of comfortable chatting and laughter, you wanted to hype up the mood. You turned down the lights, turned on some color  LED lights and had a dance party with everyone invited, dancing and going all out to popular music.

After being all drained from the heavy physical activities, you ordered a variety of food for your fans, like pizza and pasta, sushi, tacos, snacks, etc. and had a muckbang/eating section for the episode as well.

You were having so much fun, you looked around while eating and just by looking at their excited and happy faces you couldn help but feel complete and thankful for all of your fans.

After filling up on food, you carried out the Q&A section of the meet, allowing fans to ask you personal questions and conversing on various topics. The camera director gave you instructions to proceed with the questions, you nodded and thanked him and the staff for their hard work, turning on your heel and sitting back in your spot you tuned to the main camera: “Hi, quick update, sorry I haven't been so interactive with the camera in this episode for everyone watching at home, but I have been having so much fun and I am not used to having a camera crew for my normal fan meets, I’m sorry. Anyway now we will move on, I am going to answer some questions and hopefully this is entertaining enough  for the EPISODE hahaha” the crew and fans present chucked as you finished the small interruption.

And the questions began. A girl sitting in the back, raised her hand and spoke; “yeah um, I’m sorry I wanted to  see if I could start the questions, idk if the others are okay with that”. The rest of the group nodded sweetly at her, others replied with short “yeah’s”. She then proceeded nervously “thankyou g-guys, um I’m sorry before my question, is there anything we cannot ask you or..?

You sweetly smiled at her shyness and consideration, you tried your best to make her comfortable, “You are so cute, hahaha, thankyou for being considerate, but I really can’t think of anything that I am not allowed to answer or talk about, let me ask my manager...do I Sam?” you shifted your upper body to the side where the crew was standing, your manager Sam shook his head, you don't really have any tea to be spilled anyway so he is pretty confident and comfortable allowing you to be 100% in control. 

“Okay if Sam says it’s cool, it's okay  jajaja. You can ask me anything”

The girl then proceeded to ask her question, and waited for you to answer.

Time went by, and it was pretty cool to see what your fans were interested in learning about you, after some time the group continued asking you questions like “who is your biggest inspiration? favorite song?, favorite thing about being on tour? what would you do if you weren't a singer? etc.

One of the boys in the group spoke; “Hi, y/n, can I ask you another question?” you nodded and signaled him to proceed; 

“I saw that you liked an instagram post about BTS a while back uploaded by a fan account and I also saw that you actually follow their personal twitter account. ALSO in your behind the scenes video for your music video shoot you can be seen in the background dancing the Boy with luv choreo. So I wanted to ask if you were an ARMY and if you know them personally? and like should we be expecting a collaboration soon?”

You chucked at his talking speed, curious questions and great detective skills.

 Before you answered you mentally told yourself to hold back and not go all cRAzY fAnGirL on them, you inhaled and answered:

“OMG hahaha I love you so much, what an amazing question, Okay so first off no I don’t know them personally and sadly no plans of collaboration are on sight. Oh wow I have never been asked if I liked BTS before, I’m excited hahaha. Yeah I am an ARMY, I love them so much I am one of their biggest fans, and they are also one of my biggest inspirations when it comes to work ethic and professionalism, listening to them or watching them gives me motivation to keep doing what I love, which is this. 

anyway I am rambling I should stop; you guys can say y/n stop whenever I start rambling okay? hahaha''

The group in front of you laughed and added some extra comments on your response.

After a couple comments back and forth you realized something… and asked out loud, 

“Wait so, how many of you guys here are actually ARMYs?”, 

all of the sudden the 10 fans sitting in front of you raised their hands. 

“So you guys are telling me literally everyone of you is a fellow ARMY and didn't tell me until now?” everyone chuckled and looked around surprises at the coincidence 

You were already feeling shy after talking so much about yourself before so you redirected the activity, “Guys should we actually talk about BTS for a bit? hahaha” you asked your fans

This made a girl raise her hand and ask: “Can I ask you a BTS question then? Okay so, who is your favorite member?

You loved the new conversation topic. You answered truthfully: “Well first off, I don't have a favorite member. I really mean it when I say this. I love them all equally and I love them all as a group. I don’t prefer one over the other or like one better.  I really do support them equally. I mean there is nothing wrong with having a bias, as long as you also respect the other members, hope that all made sense lol” Everyone seemed moved by your support towards them and nodded.

“Y/n so you don’t have a favorite, but do you have a crush on any of them?, like if you could date one of them right now, which one do you pick?” A fan asked.

You looked at her and really thought about how to answer said question in the best way possible; “okay...well...Like I said just to be clear I don't have favorites amongst the group members, but I do have a type…. I consider one of them to be my celebrity crush” you answered, starting out slow and finishing by blurting out the last part.

Your fans in front of you went crazy, they leaned over their seats wanting to feel closer to you and not miss anything you were saying as you took a breath to continue speaking.

“So in that case, if I had to pick someone that I would date in real life...i would say…. Jungkook'' The room was filled with surprised remarks, small comments and squeals.

“Omg guys chill hahaha, breathe, it's just a crush I don’t know him and it's not going to happen. It's just that I find him really attractive and he is my type.”

The fans kept raising their hands to ask you various questions about BTS,

the camera director and manager signaled you to get your attention after you finished answering other questions and told you you only had time for one more question before the fan meet was over.

“Okay guys so apparently we have time for one more question, so make it a good one, it can be about anything, shoot” you said as you leaned over to reach for your water bottle, swung the bottle and pointed to someone on the corner of your eye who seemed to have one last question, as you drank some water they asked: “I have a last BTS question if you don’t mind y/n” 

Still gulping water you moved your hand indicating them that is was okay and to go on,

“okay, um I just thought about this, do you have like a specific fantasy or make up scenario about BTS that you could only dream could come true; like I wish i could walk into a café shop and suddenly meet V, realizing we were reading the same book and covering for hours”

That was such a deep and personal question, you had never once thought anyone would be interested in what your fantasies where; you thought it might be boring for your fans if you went on and on about  stupid make believe scenarios that live in your head rent free. But seeing everyones approving faces over the question and the intrigued eyes they were shooting at you, you spoke: “I love that question, and your scenario is so cute, you should write a tumblr post about it, (a/n wink wink) well yeah I obviously have created fake scenarios in my head about BTS, past crushes, fake arguments even hahaha, there are so many BTS fake scenarios in my head…. hmm oh I know which one, okay so this fantasy of mine is about how I would meet them irl and work with them, I will make it quick”

You kinda chuckled at yourself, playing with the cap on your water bottle, you felt as if you were about to say something really cringy and embarrassing. You took a deep breath and started the narration of the sinopsis of your personal fanfic created by you. 

“Okay so, my literal fantasy is to one day meet them at a talk show, you know how hosts like will surprise their guests with something/someone they like?, I believe Ellen has done it multiple times where she surprised a guest with their idol or celebrity crush, you know?” The group nodded, invested in your fake scenario “Well i would be invited to like the Jimmy Fallon Show, where he would just randomly surprise me with BTS. Then I would be given the opportunity to introduce myself and tell them how much I love and support them. I would also be able to show them my Korean speaking skills, I learned Korean and Spanish back in school and I have never been able to actually use either them, lol, anyway...well after that we would all become really good friends, and we would collaborate and put out one or multiple songs for you guys. I mean that's basically it, I wish I could meet them, and become their friend and write songs with them, even produce songs with Suga or RM if I could'' you sighed as you ended your mini narration.

You continued; “But well, that's just a fake scenario I repeat, it's not real and it's not gonna happen, EVER. For now I will keep supporting and loving them with you and the rest of ARMY. I really doubt they even know who I am, anyway” you closed the conversation at that. Your fans seemed like they wanted to say something but your camera director called you over before anyone could say something else. You excuse yourself and walk over to the cameras and lights set up where the staff is.

*your fans were really confused, and this you didn't know, but your fans knew for a fact that BTS knew very well who you were. The fans even knew which member has continuously admitted to having a platonic crush on you for years now, ever since you first blew up, back when you were 16 and he was 17. Your fans knew how you are one of BTS’s favorite artists, and this was no secret, you could literally look all this information up... 

They didn’t understand how you could have no idea how famous you actually are* They talked amongst themselves about this while you talked to your team.

Your manager and camera director indicated you to do an outro for the video’s footage and other instructions. You nodded your head and smiled, you took a step back and bowed your head towards the staff behind the cameras and thanked them for their work.

You then walked towards the group of fans and told them you had to do an outro for the camera if that was okay with them; you then sat with them on the floor while side hugging the two fans next to you, you directed yourself to the camera:  “Okay guys so sadly today’s meet is now over, I am really sad I wish we could hang out for longer, thank you so much for coming and making today so fun and special” you then turned to the camera “And for my other amazing supporters who are going to watch this on youtube, today was just a little scoop into my life like the other y/n’s camera roll EPISODES, in case you are interested in other videos like this one you can visit head to the channel where this video was uploaded and watch more! hopefully you guys had fun with us! I adore you all, thank you! Please Spread love always, y/n out” you waved as the camera director said “CUT” and the crew cut the cameras.

Your manager then stood up and directed everyone to get ready to leave, also thanking them for always supporting you and taking care of you, you smiled at your amazing manager and looked back at your fans while they picked up their stuff, smiling sadly.

You said your goodbye to everyone one-by-one as they headed out.

After lots of farewell hugs, kisses, selfies, and gifts, you went home with a smile on your face for the amazing time you had.

You went to bed, turned your phone on silent mode and looked at your ceiling,  reliving that fake scenario you talked about a few hours ago, oh how you wished it could become real (a/n hehe wink wink). Finally dozing off and resting for the work-packed day you had tomorrow unaware that your social media was currently going crazy and how they yearned for your new weekly EPISODE to come out.

Part 2- Jungkook’s POV --------> here

thank you so much, please interact with me to let me know if you like this :) Xx

[fan-fantasies]

Haunted (Ateez imagine)

Paring?: Ateez x plantonic!female reader

Warnings?: horror type themes / haunted house themes, mentions of fake blood and wounds (idk what else to put but if anyone has anything else that could be warned let me know) 

Word count?: 3.5k

A/N: Hey everyone! So I am a little late to posting this cause i wanted to post it on Halloween but time got away from me. I was finally able to get a break and take some time to myself to really ground myself, but now i’m feeling great! Anyways, I really enjoyed writing this! I always enjoy writing things like this! so maybe a part 2 if people like this? So i hope you guys enjoy it as much as i loved writing it! <3 Breezy

Tonight was the best night of your life, the final night of the haunted house you performed in which typically was the most  of the night. Especially when the leader and creator of the house had to hand out waivers asking if you all would be okay being on a live video of a special guest they were expecting. You happily signed this. If you didn’t, the house would likely not be able to be run considering you played a huge role in the act. 

The house was set up was basically a Carnaval but what the unsuspecting visitors didn’t know, was that this was no ordinary circus. Instead, it was a freak show. Lots of you trained for this, either having been actors, gymnasts or even special effects artists. You were always ready to put on a show.  

In your case, you were a gymnast and being so, the last few years you were cast as the Flexible dancer. The main performer on the stage or contorted her body and tried to impress the few people in the crowd only to be booed off the stage, or well, killed on stage.  Though this year, they had given you something they felt suited you best. You were a tour guide, or one of them that is, that would lead them through the maze. You were the one who actually set the tone and how the actors reacted to the group you would be leading. 

Tonight, was your night in the spot light, you were the one chosen to lead this special group through the scares and make sure they enjoyed their visit. You were 100% up to the task. 

You were dressed to look like a ring leader, a long red tailcoat that had large buttons to hold it together. Underneath you had black pants on and dark combat boots. Your hair was done up nicely, you were the only person they would see that wasn’t covered in a type of makeup. 

“Are you ready (Y/N)?” Your boss asked, he was ready in his makeup and costume. “They just called and said they were in the parking lot, I told them you would go out and meet them. While you go out there, we will all be getting in position.” He explained to you, “Now get going, they’re waiting.” 

You didn’t wait for another word, you began your small walk towards the parking lot where only one car was parked. You took a deep breath, taking a moment to get into character before proudly walking towards them. 

They all stood outside of the car, small cameras in a few of their hands. There was eight of them, all of them taller then you but even in this lighting you could tell they were all cute as hell.  You could tell most of them were terrified, slightly shaking and already clinging onto each other. 

“Welcome valued guests,” you spoke to them in a sultry voice, you kept your posture very relaxed yet professional. “Are you ready for your tour?” The group was speechless for a few moment, the shortest member of the group spoke up first confirming they were ready. They all seemed to reposition themselves, one person in the front with a camera, one in the middle with a camera and one in the back. The rest of them just kinda slotted themselves around. By you there was two taller men, one of them with red hair and the other with long blonde hair. The blonde haired one held the camera. Those two were the ones that were going to be your targets, even though the tall one with blonde hair and plush lips and the dark haired shorter male that seemed to cling to the male next to him. The blonde haired male next to you was cute, but you could see the fear in one of their eyes. You had to have them next to you. 

You turn to the group,  “You there, what’s your name?” You question pointing at the dark haired boy who seemed to be grasping onto another dark haired boy.

His eyes went wide as he pointed to himself, “Wooyoung…” he stammers, his voice slightly high, you couldn’t tell if it was because he was afraid or that was just how he is. 

You smile widely.  “Wooyoung, why don’t you come and join me up here?” You look at the red haired man next to you, your hand gently skimming over his arm, “You both will be my assistants for this evening.” Wooyoung seemed conflicted as well as the man next to him who was holding his arm. 

“I promise I will keep him safe.” You pout before smirking, offering your hand towards the shacking man. All their cameras were on you, it empowered you to get even deeper into your roll. When Wooyoung cautiously took your hand, you offered the man next to you your arm. 

“Who who might you be?” Your head tilting towards the boy on your right. He seemed less frightened than the others, you enjoyed that. 

“Jongho,” he spoke, his voice was low. If you were in a normal situation, his voice would have easily make you swoon but you had to stay in character. 

“Oh dear! Where are my manners.” You cry out making the scared boy on your left to jump slightly. “My name is (Y/N), I will be your guide tonight. I am the ringleader of this circus and we are so happy to have you join us.”  You begin as you walk through the ‘main gate’, “We will start here.” You say leading the group straight towards the ticket booth, where a ‘worker’ sat, his eyes closed as if to be resting. 

“Tsk tsk,” you remove your arm from Jongho’s, they all seem confused at this. You slam your fist against the glass causing the man to jump and scream, his eyes opening staring directly at you. 

“We have guests.” You snarl angrily at the worker who seemed to be shaking at this exchange. “Dare I remind you of the last time you fell asleep?”the worker glanced at the group lifting one of his arms up showing off the his hand was indeed missing. 

“Tickets please.” You snap causing him to jump and quickly get the ‘tickets’. You take a few moments to hand them to each person in the group, not once letting go of Wooyoung's hand. You could tell the one he was holding onto earlier wasn’t happy to not have his friend by his side. 

“It’s rude to stare my friend, unless…” you trail and smirk, “You’re jealous?” You giggle handing him the ticket. “Maybe next time.” You wink before heading towards the front of the group again. 

“What ever you do, don’t agree to be her assistant!” The worker behind the glass warned whoever could hear, causing Wooyoung to tense up. 

The smile you wore faded as you glared at the worker. “I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson, have you?” You sneer, he began to cry and promise he didn’t mean it. Once again, you bash your fist against the glass harshly. The worker screamed loudly as he was pulled backwards and into the darkness. 

You offered your arm again to Jongho, you couldn’t force anyone to take your hand or arm, so even in character you always asked. You were a bit surprised when he actually took it. 

“Let’s continue, shall we?” You giggle as you continue into the tent that was in front of you. Upon entry there were many seats lined up though only a few of them were filled. On the stage there was a dancer, she moved gracefully to the music that played, that was until the music changed. Her moves stayed graceful but her body began to twist and contort in different ways. 

“She is our top performer, so graceful, such beauty.” Your voice trailed as you watched, “I used to be a dancer back when I started here, I was once the top performer here that was until she came alone.” You say before walking the group straight down the center towards the stage. “Don’t you think her dancing is beautiful, Wooyoung?” You say glancing towards the clearly frightened man beside you. You hadn’t even gotten to the scariest part of the house yet. The man didn’t respond, clearly too afraid so you glanced back at the one beside him. This one had the camera, his blue hair catching your attention right off the back. 

“What about you? Don’t you think her dancing is beautiful?” The man behind the camera was ready to answer when you turned back to the stage. This time fully letting go of Wooyoung and Jongho before walking closer to the stage. 

“Come now dear! We have guests, I know you can dance better than that.” The music picked up her dancing became faster and more sharp. “Faster!” You scream at her and she continued until she crumpled to the floor. You hum in disapproval, turning towards the group and the few people in the audience. 

You shake your head and sigh, “Such a shame, she was a lovely dancer.” You say causing the few people in the crowd to begin to boo at her. 

Her sobs could easily be heard, “Please, give me another chance! I can do better!” She cries, you laugh evilly. 

Sighing dramatically, “If you think so,” you begin, “GET THE STRINGS!” You shout, the group seemingly jumping at the fact that they were now surrounded by people. You walk but to the huddle, you slip past Wooyoung and Jongho through the crowd towards the back where the tallest members stood. The one with the lighter blonde hair peaked your interest first, you could tell he was just as afraid as Wooyoung. 

“And who might you be?” You say looking up at him, his eyes filled with a bit of fear. He didn’t speak but his friend next to him was quick to sell him out. 

“His names Mingi.” He giggled pointing the camera towards the two of you. 

“Mingi,” you say with a smile, “that rolls of my tongue so well.” You giggle, “I need your help Mingi, please come with me.” You say turning to head towards the front. You knew he wasn’t going to move on his own but you had a feeling someone would push him. 

“Yunho don’t you dare…” you heard Mingi speak, so you glanced back just in time to see him get pushed forward. During this ordeal you had noticed Wooyoung had made his way back to the middle, wanting to be with his friend. You didn’t blame him, so you let it slide. 

You brought Mingi to the stage, “I want you to stand right here, alright?” You tell the tall man as a man came closer handing you chains that would act as strings. You look at the dancer on the stage, 

“Now come here.” You demand, the dancer moved over to you allowing to attach the ‘chains’ to her. The chains seemingly pull her to her feet, moving her in a motion that was less graceful. She would shout in pain every so often. 

“Tell me Mingi,” you began, “Do you think she deserves a break?” You ask the man who seemed actually petrified. He was looking at the girl who was moving, her gaze sad and pained. 

“Y-Yes.” He says lowly, not sure what his answer will bring. You glance at the tall man, he practically towered over you but that really wasn’t important, and then looked at his friends. One of them that held a camera caught your eyes, the one with the long blonde hair. You took a step towards him, leaving Mingi briefly. 

“And what do you say?” You ask with a smirk almost eyeing him, he nervously shifted a bit clearly a bit uncomfortable with the look you were giving him. 

“Yes.” He tried to speak confidently but it was clear he was nervous. His voice was fairly low, but it had a sweet tone. 

“Come closer, so tell me your name.” You beckon the nervous boy over to where you now stood with Mingi. “If you don’t share I’m sure I can find out.” You giggle glancing up at Mingi. He still clearly shaken by being picked out of the group. 

“Uh, Yeosang.” He spoke nervously as he walked closer with the camera. 

You smile at this, “So you both think, we should give our lovely marionette take a break?” You confirm glancing at the two. You could see Mingi nervously swallow, his adams apple moving as he did so. The two nervous blondes nodded at you question.

You laugh a bit, “Give her a break.” You say to no one in particular. The motion stopped, she stood on the stage motionless for a few minutes. That was until she was lifted up off the stage, and up into the banisters, not to be see again. Her screams were heard for only a few minutes, until she disappeared. The tall man jumped back, nearly knocking into Jongho who stood behind him. A few of the less frightened members laughed at Mingi’s fear and you took note of this, everyone could be scared if you tried hard enough. 

You look at the group, you pout at the fact that Wooyoung having backed up, “I lost one of my assistants. At least I still have one of you.” You say looking at Jongho who seemed a little unfazed by this.

“Shall we continue?” 

You all continued forward, the group had stayed huddled together but you continued to shift the group around a few times. You had pulled another taller man with blonde hair to the front, Seonghwa was his name if you remembered correctly. It was rather funny moving them around because all of them seemed to be a little on edge or afraid. You had also somehow managed to get the ones with the cameras to move around a bit. Now in the front was the blue haired man, who seemed shorter than the other. He now stood next to Seonghwa, clearly enjoying recording the mans reaction to everything. The tall camera man in the back, Yunho, had moved into the middle, mostly focusing his filming on Wooyoung and his protective friend, San. 

You had honestly made a point to learn all their names and mess with them a bit. It was just all apart of the act and sometimes you could play with that. You particularly had a plan for those who were terrified. 

“Follow me, now we will head towards the back area.” You inform taking confident strides to where you were going. 

Reaching the back area, it was a large tent cages laid out all around the room that you had to walk by. Each of them occupied by different types of people and a few props. 

You had noticed Wooyoung and San standing a little close to the outside, close to the bars of the cages. 

“Wooyoung,” you say loud enough for the room to hear so they could play along, “I would recommend staying away from the cages. Some of our acts like to grab.” You warn glancing at the trembling man, right on cue a male with a mangled face appeared out of the darkness and started to bang against the bars. The scare causing Wooyoung to nearly topple over San and shriek and shock. 

You chuckled darkly, “Now now Mr. Richardson,” you tsk, “Don’t make me have to call the tamer again.” At those words he slinked back into the darkness. Continuing to walk through the dimly lit room, from across the room a faint voice could be heard. 

“Wooyoung!” The voice was quiet, sounding vulnerable. “Please help me Wooyoung!” The voice sobbed. You weren’t directly looking in his direction but you were sure he was likely still shaking. Others joined in around you, each cage calling for Wooyoung’s help. 

“Don’t worry San,” you spoke loudly, “I won’t let then take him.” You smirk, the voices continuing to call Wooyoung, and now Sans, name in hopes for a way out. 

Nearing the end of the tent, your favorite section of the whole haunt itself. A young girl in the last cage by the exit, she held a teddybear in her arms, she was indeed the one who called for Wooyoung first. When she saw the group, her eyes lit up not paying your character any mind. 

“Wooyoung! San!” She giggled, she didn’t know who was who but she would likely figure it out. “You’re here to save me right?” She smiles sweetly watching, her eyes locking now with the two in the middle. When she saw that they weren’t moving, her smile faded. She stepped into the light, large gashes over her body and one large one over her face. Almost as if she was attacked by an animal. 

“Won’t you both save me and teddy?” She questioned her voice lower. Her words cuing the loud bear growl and the bright eyes that shown through the darkness. She dropped her teddy bear, now grabbing a chain on the ground, 

“Come on out Teddy.” She giggled evilly, the sounds of growls filled the room, the eyes seemingly growing closer. It was then you began to lead them away and out of the tend, now concluding their tour. Well almost. 

“I guess this is where we part dear friends.” You glanced at Jongho, then Mingi and finally Wooyoung. “I really did hope that my new assistants would be permanent.” You glanced at the group as a whole, “Now follow me for one last time, I will show you out.” You begin to walk back towards the entrance. 

You stood under the archway, “I do hope you visit again soon.” You giggle giving them a rather cute wave. That was until a loud voice boomed,

“(Y/N)!” You glanced behind you, a large figure came straight towards you. Your characters demeanor completely changed, now becoming afraid. 

“Y-Yes boss?” You stammer your form clearly shaking. 

“So this is what you have been doing all night!” He growled grabbing you by your arm, not tight enough to hurt but enough to play the part. 

“I do apologize gentlemen, it seems our lion tamer got a little ahead of herself and decided that she ran this place.” He snarled glaring down at you, “It seems that she needs to be reminded where she came from. Get the strings!” He shouted. 

You began to panic, scream, and beg for him to rethink, “No! Please! Anything but that! I promise it would happen again!” You sob as you see them coming towards you, a cart with a cell on the back. They ‘tied’ chains onto your limbs and ‘threw’ you in, locking the cell. 

“Please! Help me!” You cried, “Please Jongho! Help me please!” You shriek in a desperate attempt to scare the seemingly unfazed man. 

“Shut up!” One of the ‘workers’ says, then seemingly tasing you causing you to jolt around and fall over. 

“Please!” You cry out all of their names, this causing your boss the march over to the group. 

“So she picked herself an assistant huh?” He glanced over the group, “Jongho, huh?” He said with a smirk. The red haired boy took a small step back, seemingly now to be intimidated by the taller male. They all seemly jumped hearing you cry out in pain hearing the buzzing sound of the ‘taser’ as you were wheeled off into the dark. When you were out of sight and earshot, you and your fellows actors laughed and joked. That was the best ‘show’ you had put on. 

When your boss returned, he gave you the biggest hug. “That was the best show I think we have ever had!” He exclaims, “Lets get things cleaned up and packed up. Great last show everyone!” He shouts causing everyone to whoop. You took a few minutes, in the dressing area, to get into more comfortable clothing before your boss returned to you again. 

“They’re asking to meet you.” He told you causing your eyes to go wide with shock. They wanted to actually meet you? 

You nodded before slowly making your way out front, they stood by the entrance where you had left them. The camera’s were gone, so you knew that you would likely see their true-selves. 

They all spotted you, each of the giving you the biggest and warmest hello. You hadn’t any idea that they would be so sweet.

“You’re acting is so good!” The one you remembered as Hongjoong spoke. The rest of them nodded their heads and loudly agreed. 

“Thank you! I really hope I didn’t scare you too much.” You giggle, “I’m sorry Wooyoung, you were just so easy to scare.” He gave you a dirty look but it quickly changed to something else, he was pretty happy. 

“You guys were so great though, groups like yours make my job so much more fun.” You tell them, “I would honestly love to work beside you in scaring people, I think you guys have a really good energy and could pull it off!” You smile happily with a giggle. They all joined you in laughing. 

“Who knows maybe we will come back again, then we can try to scare you.” Hongjoong spoke with a bright smile. 

You laughed but smiled, “I would love to see you try.” 

[hisunshiine]

Escape ✈︎ Chapter 4

✈︎ chapter 4: you have been cordially invited... |✈︎ Escape Series—18+, Mature     

   ✈︎ genre: fluff, future smut

   ✈︎ word count: 2,736 words 

   ✈︎ pairing: jungkook x [redacted] (at the very end)

   ✈︎ warnings: alcohol consumption

   ✈︎ summary: A look into what it's like arriving to Bangtania...

| series masterlist | previous | next | hisunshiine | mrsparkjimin18 |

Everyday, since the very beginning when it was announced, you have sat at your computer or been on your phone in order to participate in the giveaway for a chance to go to Bangtania Island. Every week, one lucky person has a chance to win an exclusive invitation from the girls who organized it, all expenses paid for them to relocate out there.  

Friday couldn’t have come soon enough; your job was draining. A typical 9-5, doing office work was monotonous and you slogged through the week waiting for your weekends to come. Despite the wish to find something else, nobody was hiring in your city. Not for anything you wanted to do, anyways. Deep in your gut you felt the need for something more, instead of the repetitious clacking of your fingers against the keyboard, answering the phones, and feeling like a machine.

Fortunately, it’s the weekend, so you decide to stop and grab a bottle of wine and make your way home. You’re ready to unwind with some youtube videos and spend time browsing your social media for anything interesting. You pour a glass of wine and relax on the sofa, open your laptop and log in to twitter. You have a few notifications, including an update from the giveaway page, they had posted there was another winner chosen and that the winner would receive an email shortly.

“That was 30 minutes ago!?” You squeal to yourself, an unexplainable feeling creeping over you.

Just then your phone chimes, and you unlock the screen to check your notifications. You have multiple email notifications, so you check your email app as you sip your wine. Scrolling through them, it’s mainly junk mail, you see one that catches your eye.

Sender Name: Bangtania Island Mayor

Subject: You have been cordially invited…

Y/N,

Congratulations! You have been selected as the next lucky winner to be invited to Bangtania Island. In order to accept this invitation, please click on the link and fill out the application. Documents you may need to gather prior to completing the forms in the link are:

Driver’s License

Social Security Card

Passport

Please make sure to include the earliest date for you to travel, and please have your physical completed prior to boarding the plane. All documents needed are attached to the email. Please make sure to electronically sign them and reply to this email with the completed documents. If you have any questions in regards to the forms, please do not hesitate to reach out. Upon completion of all required documents per your reply email, you will receive your e-ticket for travel.

The following are the guidelines and stipulations for traveling to Bangtania Island:

You will receive a one-way ticket, free of cost. You will be picked up from the airport and transported to the boat, which will bring you to the island. You will be given a limited amount of time to decide if you would like to stay as a permanent resident of Bangtania, approximately 2 weeks. Prior to you being granted full access to the island, you will meet with the Deputy Mayor who will greet you at the dock, completing a brief in-person interview. If you decide to leave or prove unfit for the island at that time, a complimentary ticket home will be provided to you up until the 2-week window.

Thank you,

Vanessa

Deputy Mayor of the Mayor’s Office, Bangtania Island

You couldn’t stop yourself from spilling some wine as you low-key panicked. You knew there was a very good possibility of being chosen; some of your mutuals on twitter had already left to go there, and while you had seen them briefly on the TL, it was never for long and they didn’t say anything other than that they were enjoying themselves immensely and to share the sweepstakes link.

You set down what was left of your wine that hadn’t spilt into your lap, and ran around your room, pulling clothes off of their hangers and out of your dresser drawers before you remembered you hadn’t even clicked the link to complete the forms. 

Pausing in the middle of your bedroom, arms filled with random clothes, you took 7 deep breaths to try and calm down before dropping your handful of clothes into your pen and waiting suitcase. Sitting back down, you calmly clicked the link and once transported to the secure website, you filled in the information needed so that your flight could be purchased for you as well as any other accommodations you may need could be handled by the ones in charge. 

You printed out the forms needed for the physical, jotted down some notes to go to the doctor on Monday to complete the form, and decided that the earliest you would be able to fly out was Wednesday. That gives you enough time to go to your job, request use of your vacation hours for the next 2 weeks, and turn in your two week notice. You didn’t ever want to come back to that shit hole.

You celebrated the news by turning up your bluetooth speaker and blasting your favorite upbeat BTS songs while you packed up everything you would need. Hasta La Vista!

Catching your flight was easier than you thought it would be, as you had an upgraded flight in first class. You were given star treatment, access to a separate waiting area with complimentary food and drinks, less people to deal with, comfortable seats, the works. You couldn’t believe that ARMY was able to provide all of this for you, but who were you to complain? 

The boat ride was also nice, more like taking a large yacht across the water to the island, you stood at the bough of the boat for most of the trip, enjoying the view as you became farther and farther away from everything that was shitty about your life and closer to everything you wanted. An escape into a world that was full of other people who were like you, liked the same music, had the same mindset, and you got to do it all on a paradise island? Hell fucking yeah.

After docking, you rolled your luggage behind you as you disembarked from the ramp, and saw a girl waiting for you. She was short but cute, a friendly smile and aura of being in charge. Her cheeks were slightly sunburnt, but you were envious of the way she looked refreshed, skin glowing. You couldn’t wait for that to be you; sunkissed and relaxed from the ocean breeze and too many margaritas.

“Y/n?” She asked, and you nodded.

“Welcome! I’m Vanessa, I hope that your trip went well?”

“Oh yea, it was awesome, thank you!”

“No problem, congratulations on winning! So before we go off to the fun stuff, we have a brief interview and a few more things to go over, and then I’ll give you a tour of the island and show you to your place. If you’ll follow me?”

Vanessa led the way to a golf cart and you climbed on, your luggage secured in the back seat of the cart. She turned the key, and you were speeding off towards a large house. It was painted white with accents of brick, and green ivy climbing lattices. The windows were large and beautiful, and you felt like you had seen them somewhere before. Like they were in a magazine or some type of professional photos or something. You shrugged off the feeling of deja vu, and followed Vanessa into the house.

The windows were open and provided a good amount of sunlight into the entryway, and you tried to take in as much as you could see as Vanessa walked past a staircase and led you towards the back of the house and into a side room. It was an office, with bright white walls and a large sturdy desk. A bookshelf was the entire wall behind the desk, where she now sat at. 

She gestured to the plush chair in front of her desk and you sat down, suddenly nervous. For such a large house, it was pretty quiet, and you wondered where all the other people were. Was this actually all an elaborate trick to sell you into sex trafficking and you were brought here to die?!

You calmed your thoughts once you heard laughter from somewhere above you, and music playing lightly from another area of the house.

“So, once again, welcome! I am the deputy mayor here, and basically in charge of getting you all settled. We are a formal nation, Bangtania, with a president, a whole government system, and we’re working on expanding the businesses here. Before I can reveal anything more to you, I do need to have you sign the Non-Disclosure Agreement here in person. I know that I sent it to you via email for you to read and electronically sign, but I like to cover all of my bases.”

Like clockwork, another woman walked into the open office door, carrying a glass of wine and some papers. She took a sip and handed the papers to Vanessa, who thanked her as she headed back out of the room. The woman blew a kiss and disappeared around the corner.

“That’s my best friend, Talia, and definitely the reason that all of this was even put into motion,” Vanessa said as she shuffled the papers before straightening them gently by tapping the edges on the desk. She stapled the corner, binding the papers together, and passed it over to you.

“I know you read over most of this, but I want to reiterate a few points anyways. From the moment you leave this office, you are not to share with anyone about the other people on this island. When you first applied to the giveaway sweepstakes, you gave us your social media handles. While we won’t take away social media from you, your posts will be monitored for identifying certain people who wish to remain anonymous while here. Please always ask anyone before posting and triple check photos as well.”

She points to a section and you initial, stating you understand.

“You have a two week period here to see how you like it. You don’t have to stay if you do not want to. After that time, you will be issued a passport for Bangtania, a resident ID, and be included in our census. You will have dual citizenship for here and for your home country as well.”

“If you choose to leave within the 2 week window, it’s no charge. If you choose to leave after, you will have to fund your flight home yourself. We will pay for your boat ride back to the mainland, and from there you can negotiate work or if you have money saved just in case, you can fly out. Also, if you choose to stay, you can always fly out to visit friends and family, just remember the NDA is always in affect.”

You initialed again.

Vanessa led you through a few more sections of the contract, and you learned that a few of the girls on the island were nurses and so if you were sick or needed minor medical attention, they would help you. Everything else was pretty much provided to you, and all they asked was that they could use your skills in return. 

You weren’t surprised they knew you had skills with computers and answering phones, which made you a perfect candidate to work in the main house under Vanessa doing secretarial work for her best friend, Talia. It wouldn’t be a lot of work, you would have plenty of time to enjoy the beach and rest, and the work would be related to the giveaway, running the island, and other fun BTS related things, so you were excited.

Signing your last signature on the bottom of the last page, Vanessa took the document, notarized it, and put it away in a locked filing cabinet next to her desk.

“Now, if you’re ready, I’d love to give you a tour of the island and show you where you’ll be staying.”

After seeing the main areas that people hung out at, you went towards what looked like a restaurant, which was good because you were hungry. Vanessa parked the golf cart next to a few others, and she held the door open for you.

You almost fainted. Seated at the table right when you walked in was none other than the 7 boys that were the reason you lived. BTS. Namjoon, Jimin, Yoongi, Taehyung, and Jungkook were sat at the table, and as you looked around, you saw that in between them sat other girls, including mutuals you knew were living here. Hobi appeared from swinging doors that led to what you assumed was the kitchen, delivering plates of food from a platter as a few girls followed him as well with drinks.

“C’mon Y/N, don’t be shy. Isn’t this what you wanted?” Vanessa laughed, taking in your shocked expression.

After eating, and sharing some conversation with Jin and Yoongi, you were ready for a nap. Jin was an exceptional cook, and you were full to the brim. Vanessa waved bye to everyone, a lingering hand on a certain male’s shoulder as she walked away, leading you back outside. As you sat back on the leather seat of the cart, she checked in with you.

“I’m definitely still in shock, but now I understand the NDA a lot more.” You chuckled as she drove you towards another house. It was just as big as the main house, as you heard several people call it, but the style was more relaxed and upon entering it, you realized it was because it was lived in. It was two stories, with a large open concept downstairs with a living room and kitchen, and rooms upstairs. You dragged your suitcase up the flight and Vanessa unlocked a room for you with a key before handing it to you.

“This is our newcomer guest room. We will have a room ready for you after your 2 weeks are up, if you decide to stay. For now, most people have said staying with me and Talia has been helpful if they had questions or needed anything, but any of the girls will help you, everyone is super nice.”

You looked around the room; it was spacious with a nice big bay window that allowed a decent amount of sunlight in.

“I’ll leave you to get settled in. Feel free to explore some more, and tomorrow we will have our weekly game night so you can meet everyone in a more relaxed setting and have fun. It’s our way of welcoming you to Bangtania.”

Vanessa let herself out of the room, closing the door softly. You wanted to explore, but at the moment the bed was calling to you. You lay down in the spot where the sun was pooling, curling yourself into the warmth and passed out. Jet Lag was a bitch.

When you finally rejoined the waking world, it was definitely not waking hours. The sun had set, and you shiver, the ocean breeze now too cool in your bedroom. You get up, throwing a MOTS tour hoodie on, and climb back in the bed, attempting to go back to sleep. Tossing and turning for about 15 minutes, sleep evades you. You must have caught up on all of your missing sleep with that ‘nap’ you took. Like you said, Jet lag is a bitch. Not wanting to continue to lay there restless, you slip out of the room and down the stairs.

You walk along the road, past other houses, finding yourself walking into sand. Sitting on the beach, enjoying the sound of the waves, you finally begin to feel tired. Rather than fall asleep on the beach, you make your way back to the house.

You head up the stairs and start down the hall, being as quiet as possible since it’s late and everyone is asleep. At least you assume they are all asleep, until you hear a very familiar voice coming from Vanessa’s room.

“Come here Princess, why are you acting this way?” You step closer to the door that is slightly ajar. You can’t believe what you are seeing, but you can’t stop watching either.

↣ all rights reserved © hisunshiine & mrsparkjimin18 2020-2021. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed.

[mostly-marvel-musings]

A Mere Mortal - Chapter Four

A/N: This story is based on the prompt : Vampires cannot enter a house without your permission, but what if your landlord’s a vampire? It’s his house, he’s just letting you live there. Part of the Landlord Vampire Fic Frenzy hosted by the amazing @just-the-hiddles​ . Feedback’s appreciated as always! :))

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Vampire! Bucky Barnes x Vampire! Loki x Human! Reader

Word count: 2298

Warnings: 18+ stuff. Kissing and make out scenes. Foul language.

Tags: @buckybarnesplumwhore​ @ladyacrasia​ @tcc-gizmachine​ @alexakeyloveloki​

Taglists open! Send me an ask if you wish to be tagged in future chapters.

...

It had been a while since you woke up before the alarm went off. Given the fact that you were up late writing and editing some initial drafts, this morning you felt surprisingly fresh.

Might as well go for a run.

Pulling out your trainers, a blue fleece jacket and a beanie that you found in your luggage you stepped out.

The weather was nippy, perfect for a jog through the little forest trail. Plugging your headphones you put on a ‘workout mix’ and started a slow jog following a narrow path that winded through the woods.

When the cabin came into view you leaned against a tree to catch your breath. Huffing, you pulled the earplugs out and looked around.

Faint whimpering sounds reached your ears from behind another tree to your right. You stepped around and a scared looking pup, not older than three weeks came into view. He was visibly shivering in the cold and you couldn’t help but pick him up.

“Where’s your mama little one?” you murmured looking around for any signs of an adult dog, but found none. “You hungry?” already walking inside with him tucked in your arms.  

Thankfully you had leftover steamed veggies in your fridge from last night which would have to suffice for now.

You mashed the carrots and broccoli and offered it to the puppy along with some water which he accepted with grateful wags of his tiny tail.

Letting him out in the harsh weather would be cruel, might as well find a box and some sheets to keep him warm.

The aroma of freshly made coffee still lingered in the air, after you took a quick shower and breakfast when your phone rang. It was a Face Time video from Sam.

“Sammie! How are you?”

“You seem awfully chipper (Y/N). I’m good. How’re things in creepy town?”

You rolled your eyes but laughed, you had missed him.

“For one stop calling it creepy town. Second, things couldn’t be better. I went for a run in the woods earlier today and came home with a puppy!”

“You did what?”

“Yeah well he looked so fragile and cold, I couldn’t leave him out there. Plus look how cute he is!” You said flipping the camera around so that Sam could see the pup who was now curled up into a ball on the rug, sleeping peacefully.

“Cute. Hey did you meet your landlord Mr. Bones was it?”

“It’s Barnes Sam, yes we met. Bucky is such a nice guy. Ah. A perfect gentleman. Like you wouldn’t believe.” you gushed excitedly. You recalled the meeting and he listened patiently, sneaking in a few teasing remarks in between. 

“I smell a crush (Y/N/N)”

“Oh stop, I’ve only met him twice, we had drinks the other day. Nothing happened” you spoke with a tad bit of disappointment. Something almost happened.

“So what? You can make a move. Guys dig that.” Sam insisted.

“I moved here to write my novel Sam. I can’t just randomly hook up with my landlord.”

You can do both, pun intended. Your horny alter ego spoke up.

You cut the call after filling him in on most of the details. You didn’t mention that weird sex dream with Loki, in fact didn’t mention the man at all. You hadn’t figured what to make of it, it was completely out of the blue.

Something you didn’t want to dwell on too much.

...

Mid-morning was spent trying get the pup to not pee next to the kitchen cabinet and to find a name for the little guy.

After a few tries he wagged his tiny tail when you said Bear, quite fitting, he was brown and shaggy.

You had lunch at the grill, when Bear had finally slept in his box and you were sure he wouldn’t get too lonely in your absence. You purchased kibbles, a leash and a few other things from Fred’s on your way home.

…

Bucky’s POV

I’ve been staring at this page for the longest time, reading the same sentence over and over again.

I managed to get my hands on (Y/N)’s latest book online and got it shipped here. An anthology of short stories, the title was enough to intrigue me, Mere Mortals.

She had a flair for writing thrillers, no wonder this was a best-seller.

This particular story caught my attention about a vampire falling madly in love with a human. A beautifully written tragedy with a line that struck me the most,

“Loving the monsters never ends well for the human.”

The book made me wonder how she might react if she finds out who I really am. Would she run away or be brave enough like one of her characters and stick around. Probably best to leave that topic for later.

Your book is fantastic (Y/N). You weren’t kidding when you said you love the supernatural. :P

How’s the new one coming along?

I didn’t want to seem too pushy but I couldn’t help myself. Something about her made it hard for me to stay away.

You read my book! I’m glad you found my obsession amusing. As far as the new one goes, I’ve been at it for days with very little progress. Starting to freak out. :(

The promptness of her reply made me smile. I quickly texted back and invited her over for dinner later today.

With that I walked inside to get a refill of my dinner for the night from the fridge.

…

Bear sat looking up at you with his head tilted to one side, as you explained you’d be leaving him alone for a few hours to go meet Bucky.

“And please don’t destroy the house, we’re here on lease. I’ll be back soon.” You placed a kiss on his nose and stood up to leave.

The walk to Bucky’s house was spent adjusting your hair every few minutes and making sure your breath was minty fresh. As trees cleared a huge cottage came into view which you could only guess was his ancestral home.

It looked surprisingly modern though with a few overgrown weeds around and English ivy covering most of the exterior walls. Stopping outside the front door, you checked your appearance one last time on your phone camera and knocked.

“Come on in, it’s open.” Bucky’s voice came through from a distance. You pushed the door open and stepped in the dimly lit house.

The wallpaper covered foyer reminded you of an old museum. Reaching the living room, you looked around to find most of the tables topped with antiques and artifacts. Old paintings that definitely belonged to the 18th century decorated the walls. All in all, the house looked like it belonged to someone who was stinking rich.

“Sorry for not opening the door, I almost lit my kitchen on fire.”

You turned around to see Bucky dressed in a button down tucked neatly in dark denims and the sleeves folded up to the elbow, hair in disarray but still freaking gorgeous walk in the living room. You looked around the room and said, “I didn’t know you lived in a museum.”

“Oh it’s our family home, almost been the same since my great grandfather built it. I’ll give you a tour later.”

“You’re rich.”

“No my parents were rich.” He chuckled.

“That is a typical rich person reply right there.” You shot back as you followed him into the kitchen.

The kitchen was bigger than your first apartment, very rustic looking with modern appliances to add contrast. The smell of Bolognese wafting through the closed pot on the stove made your stomach grumble.

“Hope you like Italian.” He gave you a smile and opened the lid to show off his work proudly.

“Is there anyone who doesn’t? It’s my favorite.” You walked closer and inhaled deeply before sighing rather dramatically.

“Come on. Let’s eat.”

You ate at the breakfast bar, though there was a dining room. Of course it was a twelve seat formal one complete with a fancy chandelier and everything.

“Are you like a prince or something hiding your true identity from me?” you asked eyeing him with mock suspicion.

He laughed, “I could be a mafia for all you know.” You got the latter part right, (Y/N)

“Nah don’t get that vibe from you.”

“Well my family owned a few properties around here including the cabin you’re living in, and the library, and now I look after it. My great grandfather was a part of the town council and everything, it’s boring.”

“Interesting would be the word I would use. Though a tiny part of me was hoping you’d say mafia and prove me wrong.”

You kept the conversation going through rest of the dinner and he seemed eager to know about your past as well. After a tour of the house, he offered you a nightcap as you settled on a plush couch in the living area. Comfortable silence that fell between you was broken as you heard soft music coming from an antique looking vinyl player.

“Care to dance?”

You couldn’t help but giggle as you took his outstretched hand and stood from your spot.

“See this is the kinda stuff that happens either in romantic movies or the beginnings of a serial killer movie.” You slid your arms around his neck as both of you gently swayed to the music.

The things you were feeling at that moment definitely were something you had only read about in those classic romantic novels you used to love so much in your growing years.

“Let’s just say it’s the former for now okay?” Bucky kept his arms around your waist and looked at your lips. You wasted no time in replying as you pulled him in for a kiss.

Lips brushed against each other softly at first, delicate like butterfly wings, he could feel the warmth of your skin and taste the wine you’d had earlier. 

Soon you lost yourself in the moment as instincts took over and your fingers weaved through his hair. One hand moved to the back of your head and the other stayed on your back as he pulled you even closer and the innocent kiss turned fervent.

The need to pull away for air became necessary as you broke the kiss and pressed your foreheads together, grinning ear to ear.

“The cooking, the wine and dance. You’re very old school in your ways Mr. Barnes.”

“I sure love it when you call me that doll.” 

With that he pressed his lips to yours once more and ravaged your mouth. Backing you up against a wall, his hands dropped down to your hips and he pressed himself closer to you, making his hard-on evident. A moan escaped you as he moved his mouth from your lips down to your neck where he found your sweet spot with ease.

All he could think about was the feel of your flushed skin, your heady scent and the smell of blood flowing through your carotid. He pressed his nose at the spot where your shoulder and neck met and inhaled deeply. This made your eyes flutter open.

“What’re you doing?” your voice came out weak as you tugged on his hair lightly, not understanding his actions but not really wanting him to move away.

“Stopping myself from going too far. I find you irresistible (Y/N).” he said slowly kissing his way back to your lips, eyes still closed.

“And you intrigue me. You’ll definitely end up as my protagonist if I ever write a romance novel.” you decided to lighten the sexually charged atmosphere with your dull sense of humor. You weren’t one of those who’d sleep with someone on their first date. Deciding it was time to leave you gently nudged him and he stepped away to give you space.

He walked you back to your home as always and stopped at the porch steps.

“Probably wise to not invite you in just now, Bear must’ve pooped in several places.”

“Bear?”

“Shit! I forgot to ask. I found a puppy this morning and decided to take him in. I hope its okay with you.” You silently prayed he wasn’t one of those ‘no pets allowed’ guy, considering his own house was so prim and proper, there wasn’t a stray fly around.  

“Who doesn’t like dogs?”

Vampires. Vampires don’t gel well with dogs.

But he couldn’t say no to you. You were probably safer with one in the house.

You stood on your tippy toes to give him a goodbye kiss which lasted a few seconds that had you reconsider going in alone.

…

Loki peered through from the shadows as you kissed Bucky outside your cabin. Fists clenched, eyes seeing red he stormed away through the woods searching for an outlet, a prey.

Rage turned into blood thirst, he spotted the lady who worked at the grill walking through the empty town square. Perfect.

Her wrist watch read 12:30, as Jenny made her way home after her shift ended at the grill. The area was deserted, illuminated only by the street lamps. She heard twigs snapping behind her and turned to locate the source of the noise.

There was no one.

Slightly alarmed, she turned back to see a tall dark figure standing right in front of her. Her initial shock wore off as she recognized the man. It was Loki.

“Mr. Laufeyson! You scared me.”

Loki stalked closer with eyes dark and an unreadable look on his face.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just out for a bite.”

He grabbed Jenny before she could run and sunk his fangs in her neck.

Her piercing scream echoed into the night, soon coming to a stop like her pulse.

…

[i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend]

Carnival of Hearts (Part 3/6) ~ Bucky x Reader College!AU

A/N: Happy Friday my lovelies! Part 3 is here. :) 

This is my entry for @buckysknifecollection​​ ‘s 3k Follower Challenge. Congrats on the milestone lovely! Go check out the blog. Personal fave is Hush (a must read if you’re into soft!Biker!Bucky)

Prompt: Our friends set us up on this carnival date but we’re both pining after someone else and this a bit awkward

Summary: When you’re set up on a carnival date with Bucky Barnes NOTHING turns out the way you expected.

Rating: T

Warnings: Language

Word count: 2090

Story Masterlist | Main Masterlist

When you came back from the restroom, Bucky was sitting at the picnic table scribbling in a notebook.

“So you’re a writer?”

Bucky jumped and snapped the leather bound journal shut.

“I… what? This was just a grocery list.”

You frowned at the obvious lie, but decided not to call him on it opting for a different tactic.

“Oh. Sorry. Nat had mentioned you were doing a minor in creative writing, so I kind of just assumed. Sorry.”

You sat down beside him.

“No apology necessary. And I am doing a minor in creative writing. And that wasn’t my grocery list.”

“I figured.”

You smiled encouragingly.  

“I guess I just don’t consider myself a writer. I mean I want to be… Someday. That’s the dream.”

“Do you write now?”  

“Yeah, but it’s just a hobby.” He shrugged. “I’ve never been published.”  

“You don’t have to published to be a writer. You just have to write.”

“Well when you put it like that…”

“I’m sure that you’re a great. You see the world in a different way. What do you write about?”

He exhaled a laugh, bobbing his head slightly.

“Love mostly. Wanda calls me a hopeless romantic. She’s right of course.”

You nudged his shoulder with your own.

“Well, you’re in good company. Love’s a big topic though.”

“I’ll never run out of material that’s for sure. Recently I’ve been favoring quiet love. Love that comes out of nowhere but that you can find everywhere. Love that surrounds you until you couldn’t be more sure of it.”  

“Wow,” you breathed out. “If that’s just you talking I can’t imagine what your writing must be like.”

Bucky blushed at the praise.

“Thanks, doll.”

“Have you ever shared your writing?”

He hesitated before nodding.

“I have a blog. Anonymous, because I’m so not ready to put my name on anything.”

“That’s fine. You don’t have to. But it’s great that you’re putting it out there. If you ever want to share it - not anonymously - let me know.”

You were happy to leave it at that, but Bucky surprised you when he pulled out his phone. You quickly grabbed his hand to stop him.

“You don’t have to show me.”

“I know,” he smiled. “I want to. I’m not sure why. But I want to.”

“I’m honored.”

He scrolled through his phone for a few moments before handing it over.

“Read this one.”

You nodded, and cradled the phone in your hands as you began reading.

 Longing from right beside you.

We embrace, my limbs slow, awkward as if rusted.

Your hand in mine, my cheeks red, hotter than a furnace.

Your smile brighter than the sun at daybreak, it warms me.

It disarms me.

I am seventeen again.

Hiding. Questioning. Unsure.

My desire is benign. It is pure.

Nine o’clock every morning - a new quiet beginning.

Seven o’clock every evening - the sweetest homecoming.  

One press of your lips on mine hits me like a freight car.

I am lost.

I am yours.

 “Wow, Bucky, this is…”

“Terrible. Dry.”

“No. It’s beautiful. And I can feel the emotion. Oh my. You are so talented. Thank you for sharing this with me.”  

“Thanks for not judging me.”

“Why would I judge you?”

“Some people think writing is dumb.”

“I think those people are dumb.”

“I dream of being a published author someday. But every time I start making plans, I’m reminded that writing isn’t a guaranteed career.”

“There are no guarantees in life. And if you ask me, you should take some of your own advice.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You told me that you think Sam should be a chef because it’s what makes him special.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, your writing is what makes you special. And you should give it a fair shot. I think the world needs the words of Bucky Barnes.”

“Thank you for that.”

“Any time. I like to aggressively hype up my friends, so you should probably get used to it.”

Bucky’s laugh was deep and booming.

“You’re the best.”

“Yes. Yes I am.”

Bucky let you read a few more pieces, each more beautiful than the last. He had the heart of a man in love.    

“So since you know mine, what’s your dream profession?” he asked as you walked back towards the roller coasters after completing your first circuit.

“Photographer,” you replied without skipping a beat.  

“Damn, I had my money on news anchor.”

“Well, I am a journalism major. It seemed like a safer bet.”

Bucky arched an eyebrow at you.

“You don’t have to say it.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes.

“When did you fall in love with photography?”

You had to think for a moment.

“When I was six or seven, my dad bought me a toy camera and I immediately ran around the house taking a million pictures. And when we got the prints I glued them onto construction paper and taped them up around my living room like it was a gallery that I forced my parents to tour. They were very supportive considering it was mostly blurry pictures of a mop.”

“But I’m sure your passion showed through.”

You smiled appreciatively.  

“Still. But I fell in love with it when I realized that two people can look at the same photo and see a totally different story. And both of them could have a different understanding than the photographer.”

“It definitely illustrates the effect of the consumer’s perspective. That was always my favorite part of literary discussions.”  

“Yes. Totally.”

“Okay, so if journalism isn’t the goal, what is?”

“Freelance photographer I guess. I actually had this idea to make a blog and do weekly photo story prompts, so people could submit their stories based on the pictures and then people could come read and enjoy them. And if it got big enough I could start hosting writing challenges and contests. Steve keeps hounding me to set it up. He says it would give people a chance to fall in love with my photos in a different way.”

“That’s a great idea. I think you should do it.”

“Nah, I doubt anyone would want to do something like that.”

“Are you kidding? It sounds amazing. You would just need to get the word out in the writing community. I would definitely participate.”

“Really?” you asked, excited by the prospect.

Bucky smiled and nodded.

“I might even put my name on it for you.”

After the roller coaster, you made your way to the pirate themed pendulum ride, trying to position yourselves so you’d have your pick of seats by letting a few people go ahead of you.

“Do you have a favorite photograph you’ve taken?” Bucky asked, as you let another family pass you.

You bit your lip.

“That’s a yes. Will you show it to me some time?”

“I can show it to you now if you really want to see it.”

“I would love to.”

You could sense that his interest was genuine so you slipped your phone out of your pocket and opened Instagram.

“This one is my favorite,” you stated, clutching the screen against your chest.

“You don’t have to show me, you know.”

“I know.”

You smiled and with a deep breath turned the phone to show him.

“Umm that’s just the background.”

You looked at it and sure enough you’d accidentally exited the app.

“Damn it. Okay one second. Here we go.”

You showed him the phone with much less fanfare, but his reaction was immediate.

“Wow.”  

You’d taken the photo after dinner one night. Steve was leaning against the wall on the balcony sketching by the light of a full moon and the mini lanterns you’d wrapped around the railing. You had to capture the moment. Steve heard you fumbling with your camera and looked up just in time, a soft smile gracing his features.

“Perfect,” you murmured as you looked at the shot.

“Yeah, you are.”

“Steve’s the one who encouraged me to put some of my photos on Instagram. But I told him I’d only do it, if that was the first one. It’s still my most popular post. Nat says it’s cuz he’s pretty.”

“He is for sure,” Bucky chuckled. “But he’s also soulful. I want to know what makes a man that happy.”

He had his suspicions.

“I think this should be my next post,” you cooed as you showed Bucky the picture of him cuddling the plush wolf you had won him at the ring toss.  

“Delete that.”

“Literally never.”

He pouted. “Come on, please.”

You shook your head.

“Nope. This is my new favorite photo. You’re adorable and I’m never deleting it.”

Bucky had only known you a few hours, but he could tell when he should cut his losses.

“Fine. But if you’re keeping that one. We should at least have a cute one of the both of us.”

“That’s a fabulous idea.”

Bucky moved so he was straddling the bench of the picnic table, and you shuffled so that you were in between his legs. You put your phone in selfie mode and took one photo before a woman approached you.

“Would you like me to take a photo of the two of you?”

“Sure, that would be great!”

You handed her your phone as you and Bucky re-situated yourself so you were sitting side by side. Bucky wrapped an arm around your shoulder and the stuffed animal sat on your laps.

She took several photos and you were giggling when Bucky had his wolf kiss you on the cheek.  

“Here you go. I took a bunch.”

“Thank you so much.”

“It’s so nice to see a young couple so in love.”

She walked away before you or Bucky could respond. You both shared an unsure expression as an awkward silence fell between you.  

“Do you want to plan out what to do until lunch?” he asked, not making eye contact.

“Yeah, sure. That sounds like a good idea,” you agreed.

That woman’s comment was repeating on a loop as you thumbed through the pictures she took. You did make a cute couple, but despite having a great time with him so far, you weren’t feeling a spark. What if Bucky was though? Had you been leading him on?

“Y/n, are you okay?”

“What? Sorry, Bucky.”

Bucky chuckled and you saw understanding in his expression which made the knot in your stomach loosen.

“Did it freak you out too?”

You laughed half-heartedly. “That obvious huh?”

“Only a little.”

“Don’t get me wrong. Today has been awesome. And you’re fantastic.”

“Thank you.” He bobbed his head in gratitude. “So are you.”

“Thanks. But,” you drew out the word. “I just don’t feel that spark.”

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you braced for his reaction.  

“Oh thank god.”

You turned to him with wide eyes.

“I don’t either.”

“You don’t?”  

Bucky shook his head. “You’re amazing. And I really want to be best friends with you. But…”

“That’s all,” you finished for him.

He nodded. You blew out a relieved breath.

“Full disclosure. I think Wanda set this up because she was tired of me pining over someone.”

“You mean Sam?” you asked with a knowing smile.

He was unsurprised you’d figured it out.

“I don’t hide it well, do I?”

“I had my suspicions, but you could probably chalk it up to be being best friends and roommates. But it’s all over your writing.”

“That’s fair.”

“And in the interest of honesty. Nat 100% set me up so I would get over my own dumb crush.”

“On Steve,” he stated matter-of-factly.  

You swatted at his arm when you saw his smirk.

“Don’t be smug.”

“I’m not. I’m amused. Your art gives you away too. The way you see Steve comes through in your photos. They’re beautiful, breathtaking even, but definitely an insight into your heart.”

“Not the worst critique of my work I’ve received,” you joked, making you both laugh.

“This is pretty awkward huh. We’re on this date - which is honestly one of the best I’ve been on - and we’re both pining after other people.”

“Well, at least we’re not pining after the same person. That would be way more awkward. And it’s one of the best dates I’ve been on too.”

“I know that this isn’t what they were hoping for, but I’m really glad that Natasha and Wanda set us up.”

“So am I.”

A/N: EEEEE okay, so I hope that you enjoyed this. I know it may not be what you expected (or you might totally have expected it) just sit tight. It’s gonna be fluffy I promise. 

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[crystalstar8]

Knights of the Night (ch. 5)

Chapter 5

Ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139240/chapters/71536491

pairing: Jungkook x oc

genre: vampire au, college au, twilight, romance

word count: 1,942

warnings: blood (obviously), kidnapping, child kidnapping, needles, France

notes: vampires, vampire au, college, college au, so many twilight references, blood, needles, kidnapping, children, homelessness, dance, ballet, flashbacks, romance, slow burn, probably no smut, idk yet tho, France, French things, attempted genocide, inaccurate French history, bisexual main character, @strawberriewithchocolate-blog @mozy-j  @daechwitad-2​

summary: Catalina starts college in a small town all the way across the country. She doesn’t know anyone and isn’t exactly looking for friends. She just wants to focus on dance. But when she meets fellow dance major, Jimin, and adventurous, fellow freshman, Jungkook, Catalina ends up discovering a whole new side to the small college town; one that is dangerous but oh so enticing...

               “Come downstairs and meet our new friends!” said Hoseok.

               Catalina’s eyes widened when she saw the person coming around the corner upstairs. He was bookmarking the book in his hands and closing it. As he walked down the stairs, Catalina took in his sharp, intelligent eyes, his full lips and otherwise soft features. His hair was styled delicately over his forehead, his shoulders were broad, his chest was big, even under his sweater and…

               Catalina knew those thighs.

               Jungkook choked beside Catalina and nudged her.

               “Thighs,” he whispered. Catalina nodded.

               “We saw you in the souvenir shop the other day,” said Catalina. “I’m sorry, uh, my name is Catalina.”

               “It’s nice to meet you,” Namjoon said with a smile, his dimples appearing. Catalina blushed. He was way too gorgeous. “Yeah, Hoseok and I stopped there on our way into town the other day. I think I remember seeing you two there.”

               “Oh! You guys work at the souvenir store!” said Hoseok. “I knew you looked kinda familiar.”

               “Yeah, we’re only there on the weekends,” said Jungkook. “We’re only gonna be working for the season.”

               “It seems like an interesting job,” said Hoseok. “You’ll get to see all the tourists.”

               “You guys are all students?” asked Namjoon. Catalina, Jungkook and Jimin all nodded. He asked them about their majors and what kinds of classes they were taking, which they happily answered until Catalina caught a glimpse of the time.

               “Guys, it’s three am,” she said. “We should probably head home.”

               “Oh jeez, we have that stupid French class at eight tomorrow,” said Jungkook.

               “We won’t keep you then,” said Taehyung. “Classes are important.”

               Taehyung walked them all out, through the front door this time, and the three friends began making their way back to the car.

               “Well, that was interesting,” said Catalina. “We didn’t die, so that was cool.”

               “I thought they were all pretty cool!” said Jungkook. “I mean, still a bit weird, but cool.”

               “Taehyungie wants me to teach him how to play video games,” said Jimin.

               “He wants you to teach him?” Jungkook asked with a laugh. Jimin smacked his arm.

               “We’ll be learning together,” said Jimin.

               “That’s so cute,” said Catalina. “You already have a nickname for him. Anyway, I have a question: why the hell were they all so attractive?”

               “I was thinking the same thing!” said Jimin. “It didn’t make any sense! Like, normal people don’t look like that. They were way too beautiful.”

               “We’re normal people though,” said Jungkook. Catalina and Jimin looked at him in confusion. “I mean, we’re hot too. Sometimes people are just hot.”

               “We’re like, normal people hot though,” said Jimin. “Those guys were like…gods or something.”

               “Yeah, way too pretty. Perfect skin, perfect hair, all charming,” said Catalina.

               “Red eyes,” Jimin mumbled.

               “Okay fine, they were unusually pretty,” said Jungkook. “I’m just glad we got some awesome footage today. I can’t wait to dump this.”

               “Okay, well don’t do it tonight, because we do have class tomorrow morning,” said Catalina.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

               Catalina was running again. Always running. Her feet were bare and her lungs burned. The concrete beneath her feet gave way to metal grating. Her footsteps clanged and echoed here as she made her way through the tunnels. She glanced behind her. It was dark, but she could see a set of red eyes approaching her, almost glowing. These eyes weren’t the ones she was used to. These were mean. These eyes looked at her like she was prey. The man who the eyes belonged to walked, as if it didn’t take much effort to chase after her. He had a sickening smile on his face.

               Catalina needed to get out of these tunnels. If she could get back to her friends, they’d protect her.

               “Here, kitty, kitty,” the man said, his voice mirthful. “Don’t you know trespassers get eaten, little kitty?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

               “I don’t remember what he looked like, but I remember what he said,” Catalina said to Jungkook as they made their way to the library. “He said, ‘Don’t you know trespassers get eaten, little kitty?’ Just like in your story.”

               “That’s creepy,” said Jungkook. “He had red eyes though? Was he one of those guys from the house?”

               “No, definitely not,” said Catalina. “I remember thinking about them, and you and Jimin, and thinking that I needed to reach you guys because you’d keep me safe. This is the first time I could remember so much.”

               “I wonder what these dreams mean,” Jungkook said as he opened the library door for her.

               “Thanks. Yeah, I have no idea,” said Catalina.

               “Maybe they’re prophetic,” said Jungkook.

               “God, I hope not,” Catalina said as they approached the table. Jin and Jimmy K were both sitting there, textbooks open.

               “Well, well, well,” said Jin. “Look who decided to finally show up today.”

               “You don’t have to greet us like that every time,” said Jungkook as Catalina laughed.

               “How are you guys today?” asked Catalina.

               “Now that you’re here? Fantastic,” said Jimmy K with a wink.

               Catalina blushed and said, “Okay, that’s enough, captain.”

               Catalina and Jungkook sat down as Jin began their tutoring session and Jimmy K studied silently beside them.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

               “So, game night,” said Jimin. “Do either of you know what to expect tonight?”

               “Nope! I’m just excited to sit around and eat,” said Catalina. “Take a right up ahead.”

               “Where? There’s no driveway, oh wait,” Jungkook turned into a somewhat overgrown driveway, hidden by the woods. “Also, we have a premier to watch!”

               “They’re gonna love it,” said Catalina. “Jimin, did you have fun yesterday?”

               “I did! Hoseok is a really good dancer,” he said. It’s been a week since they broke into the house and met Taehyung, Hoseok, and Namjoon. Yesterday, Catalina and Jimin had invited Hoseok to a freestyle session in the campus studio. He was happy to join them and show off his moves. They all ended up teaching each other different styles, but it was mostly Catalina and Jimin asking Hoseok to teach them the pop and lock style he was so good at.

               Jungkook’s car pushed through the heavily overgrown driveway until they reached cobblestone, which led right up to the mansion. Catalina closed her phone map and said, “Well, it’s good to know there’s an easier way up here.”

               “Yeah, I thought we’d have to keep hiking up those rocks every time,” said Jungkook as he put the car into park. The three friends piled out of the car, arms full of snacks, wearing their comfiest pajamas. The porch lights of the mansion were on, illuminating Taehyung as he opened the front door.

               “Welcome!” he shouted. “Did you find it okay?”

               “Yeah, Hoseok texted us a route,” said Catalina.

               “You guys and your fancy telephones,” said Taehyung. He let them in and they all took off their shoes. “So, we were thinking some board games tonight. Or card games. Or a game Hoseok described to us called Pictionary. Or we can just chat. Or-“

               “Tae, that all sounds great,” said Catalina.

               “Right, sorry,” he chuckled. “Here, follow me.”

               They followed Taehyung through a few halls before entering a cozy lounge. Big plush couches lined three walls, a flat screen tv was mounted against one wall and a low coffee table sat in the center of the room. Hoseok and Namjoon stood up from the couch as they entered. The smile fell from Taehyung’s face.

               “Where’s Yoongi?” he asked.

               “He said he wasn’t in the mood for game night,” said Namjoon.

               “Who’s Yoongi?” asked Jimin.

               “He’s our other roommate,” said Namjoon. “He’s been tired these days.”

               “He promised!” Taehyung pouted. “He told me he’d come to game night.”

               “Let’s go find him then,” said Hoseok.

               “I’ll go with you!” said Catalina. “I really want to see the house.”

               “Me too!” said Jimin.

               “Me three,” said Jungkook.

               “Okay, Tae tae, Namjoon, you two stay here and set up a game. I’ll give these three a tour,” said Hoseok. They dumped the snacks onto the coffee table and followed Hoseok out of the room.

               He led them through the massive house, through rooms so grand, Catalina wondered how big this house actually was.

               “This is the library,” said Hoseok. The room they were in was enormous. The ceiling was cavernous and domed and the bookshelves towered high.

               “This is an impressive collection,” said Catalina.

               “I know, these guys do love their books,” said Hoseok. “They’ve been collecting for years I guess.”

               “I’m sure,” said Catalina.

               Hoseok then led them through several hallways then showed off his bedroom. His room was so unlike the rest of the house, it felt like stepping into another world. Everything was bright and colorful, there were brand posters all over the walls and an impressive shoe collection beside the closet, which was open and showing off an array of colorful clothes. Hoseok then took them on a walk through the conservatory. There wasn’t much growing right now. It was mostly cracked marble and empty pots.

               “Maybe we can fill this room with plants next summer,” said Hoseok.

               “I garden with my mom every year,” said Jimin. “I’d love to help.”

               “That would be very nice,” said Hoseok. “This house deserves to be put back together again. It’s just so pretty.”

               He then led them back through the house. As they walked the halls, chatting about their classes and classmates, Catalina could hear the faint sound of a pipe organ.

               “Ah, he must be in the auditorium,” said Hoseok. Catalina’s eyes widened.

               “The auditorium?” asked Jimin. “You guys have an auditorium in here?”

               “With a pipe organ?” asked Catalina. Hoseok chuckled and rolled his eyes.

               “I know, right?” he said. “These guys are so dramatic. I guess they’re used to a certain lifestyle and they’re all rich for some reason…I mean, back in collage, I was happy when I could afford a cup of ramen in my one room dorm.”

               They followed the sound of the pipe organ until they came to the auditorium. The three friends gasped as they entered. The auditorium wasn’t huge, but it was incredibly elaborate. When Catalina was about twelve, her mother had taken her to a show at the Detroit Masonic Temple. This auditorium reminded her of the Masonic Temple auditorium, all carved wood and velvet seats. Up on the stage was a huge, ornate organ. The pipes lined the walls near the ceiling, emitting long, haunting notes. A man sat at the organ, hunched over the keys.

               “Yoonie-boonie honey-baby!” Hoseok shouted in his loudest, cutsey-est voice. The man at the organ stopped playing. Hoseok skipped down the aisle and hopped up onto the stage. “We have visitors, come meet them!”

               The man turned around slowly to look at them. He was just as beautiful as the other residents of the house. His eyes were dark red, just like the others, catlike and tired. His round face was pale, his lips in a slight pout.

               “I thought we weren’t having humans at the house,” Yoongi said. Hoseok laughed loudly, slapping his knee.

               “We’re all human here, so I’m not sure what that means!” said Hoseok. Catalina and Jungkook laughed along with him as Jimin just looked at them with wide eyes. Yoongi seemed like an interesting character. “Come to game night with us. I miss my honey-boy Yoonie bear.”

               Yoongi stood up and looked down at Catalina, Jungkook and Jimin from the stage.

               “It’s nice to meet you,” he said. “Will there be food at game night?”

               “I brought salt and vinegar chips,” said Jimin.

               “I brought chocolate,” said Catalina. Yoongi pointed at her.

               “A woman after my own heart,” said Yoongi. “I’ll come.”

[blazingopus]

Get Outta My Dreams - Battle Tendency

This did not go as I had originally intended, but I am happy with the result. While I do not consider this a romantic story between the reader and Joseph, I will leave it to you to interpret it as you will. Please enjoy.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hwyEKVlGLb8

Get into my car...

I sat down in the plush armchair, letting myself sink into the upholstery. I exhaled and let myself relax. I looked up. People were milling about, coming to and fro, standing and discussing, sitting and chatting. It was almost lunchtime, and Italians need to be kept fed. It just so happened that this hotel had a restaurant on the main floor, just beyond the lobby. How convenient.

I cracked open the book I had in my hand. I loved to read, but I never got to read much as a child. I was much too busy, I had younger siblings to take care of. Now, it seemed I had too much time on my hands. I let myself be absorbed into the words on the page, letting them take me away to another place in a different time.

I looked up again. Beside me, across the end table, my brother sat down with a thud. He leaned his elbow on the arm of the chair and supported his face with his hand. His eyes observed me with slight amusement.

I tilted the book down and looked over at him. "What are you doing here? I thought you would be out with another one of your girls."

"I am," he said with a smile. "I quite like the restaurant here. It would be easier to meet her here than go traipsing across Roma. Might as will fill the time while we wait."

"Sometimes I forget how much you don't like waiting," I stuck a finger in my book and let it close. I give him a quizzical look. "Is this girl different from the others? Or is she just another one to practice on?"

His eyes darted away from mine, almost afraid to answer. " I always hope the girl I am with is the one for me." A slight blush crossed over his face. "I hope she is different, but I won't know until I get to know her."

I open my book again. "I hope you find her soon. If anyone deserves to find love, it's you."

"I don't know about that," he crosses his legs very dramatically. ""You know, you could be looking for a man of your own. I don't think you would have much trouble finding one."

"I..." I felt my shoulders sag. We had discussed this before, and he never seemed to take the hint. "I'm not interested in looking right now. It doesn't feel like the right time for me. Besides, I don't think I would have much luck with men."

"Don't say that!" he dropped his arm and leaned in closer. "You could have any man you wanted. You just need to try hard enough."

I closed my eyes for a moment. "I appreciate your kind words, but we have more important matters to worry about. We are waiting for that phone call from Speedwagon. We should be meeting with him and the Joestar sometime today."

His face twisted at the name. "Joestars. They have been a plight on our family for generations."

"So have vampires. Don't blame Joseph for something that wasn't his fault."

"Caesar?" A voice broke the conversation between us.

We both looked up at the girl standing before us. "Emilia!" My brother immediately dropped the sour look on his face. He nearly jumped out of his chair and took her hand, giving it a polite kiss. The girl giggled a bit. "I am so happy you made it," he said as he rose from his bow.

"So am I," She looked over at me for a few seconds. Her eyes read of distrust, and she had instantly become fascinated with me. "Caesar," she said without looking away, " Who is this?"

He looked down at me with slight confusion on his face. "No need to worry, Emilia." His voice was full of reassurance. "This is my sister, (Y/N)."

Her eyes continued to bore into me. "Ah, yes. I can see the resemblance now." She gave a fake smile. "I can see I had nothing to worry about. I'm Emilia." She offered her hand to shake.

"Charmed," I said half heartedly, ignoring the handshake. Caesar was as bad at picking dates as he was at picking friends. Not only was she obviously fake, she looked like a wild cat. Her updo had this windswept look to it, making the sides of her head look like ears. I couldn't tell if it was deliberate or an accident. "You two have fun," I went back to my book. "I will meet you back here when you are done, Caesar." I let my irritation come through in my voice.

He gave me a nod, before offering an arm to Emilia. She took it daintily and they began the walk to the restaurant. I slumped into my chair and huffed. Another date that would end in failure. Another woman to add to the long list. And this one was particularly bad. She had this air of dishonesty around her. I opened the book again and began to read.

"Why, hello there." A voice said from above me. I dropped the book into my lap and glared upward. If I wasn't irritated enough, I had someone bothering me. A tall man stood before me, a mess of brown hair on his head and a smirk on his face. "What is a beautiful girl like you doing, sitting here all by herself?"

"Reading," I said with a hint of attitude in my voice. "Now if you would excuse me, I would like to go back to doing that."

The man walked to the chair next to me, and sat down with an exaggerated groan. "Don't be like that, Senorina. I just wanted to ask if you would join me for lunch."

I glared at him. "No. Now go away and leave me alone."

The man tisked at me. "Not very nice, now are we." He threw his hands behind his head and leaned back into his chair.

I looked down into my book, not really reading it. "No, I am not very nice. Especially with obnoxious Americans who like to invade my personal space."

He chuckled a bit. "Sorry to disappoint, but I'm British, Senorina"

"You could have fooled me. Most Englishmen who come to Italia are not as loud and annoying as you are. "

A huge smile crossed his face. "I'm not like most people. It's a little too boring for me. I like to keep things interesting."

I looked at him, but don't reply. I didn't feel like playing his game. I flipped to the next page.

He looked at me for a long time. "You know," he said with a smirk growing on his face, "I feel like I've seen you somewhere before." He playfully rubbed his chin. "In my dreams, maybe?"

"I don't think so." God, his pick up lines were just as bad as Caesar's.

"Well, since you don't want to have lunch with me," I could see the gears turning in his head, "How about a tour of the city? I could hail a cab. We would drive around and you could show me the sights of Rome."

I closed the book and folded my arms. I dramatically crossed my legs giving him a confident look. "The thing is, I am not native to Roma. I don't know very much about the city. Even if I was, I am waiting for someone for a phone call. I am meeting with someone later, so I really don't have the time." I gave him a fake smile. "I'm sorry, but you should really ask someone else."

He leaned against the arm of the chair and looked intently at me. "Who are you meeting?"

I could feel my brows furrow slightly. "Someone important. My brother and I are meeting with them soon."

"How interesting," He smiled. "I am meeting with someone later too, you know."

"How nice," I said sarcastically.

He rested his head against his fist. "You know, you have been very rude to me since I got here. All I have done is be nice to you, and ask you out to lunch. I thought you Italians were more hospitable than that."

I looked away. He wasn't incorrect. I was being a little too... Harsh. I sighed. "I apologize. I just wanted to be left alone, alright? I am already a little aggravated at the girl my brother is on a date with right now."

He gave a very confused look. "What's wrong with her? Is she ugly? Or is she to stupid to have a conversation with?"

I chuckled. "I wish." I thought a moment. "She's the type of girl that will lie to your face with a smile." I sighed and looked directly at him. "My brother has always been bad at reading people. He doesn't make friends very easily because of it. He also likes to make a lot of assumptions about people before he gets to know them."

The man sat there and observed me. It felt like he was reading me like a book, words written on my face. "What about you? You were very aggressive towards me. My feelings are a little hurt from your cruel words."

I thought very carefully, mulling over my words. "I am a very cautious person. I don't like being intruded upon. And you seem to be someone who likes to cause trouble, to see what he can get away with."

"It seems you read people better than your brother does." His eyes were filled with excitement.

"I should hope so." I looked at the clock on the wall over the front desk. "If you want to have lunch before the restaurants get busy, you better get going. We Italians take our meals very seriously, and you probably won't get a table if you wait too long."

He gazed at me for a moment, before standing up and offering a hand to me. "My offer still stands, Senorina," he said with a smirk. "I would love to see across a table from me. I hear the restaurant in this hotel is top notch."

I shake my head. "I appreciate the offer, but I must refuse. I told my brother I would wait here for him. I don't want to have him looking all over for me when we need to leave." It was a bit of a lie, to be honest. We would be in the same restaurant as Caesar and his date, but I had a feeling that the meal would end in disaster.

The man pulled back his hand and stuck it in his pocket. "Alright then, but if you ever need a nonstop miracle," he pointed a thumb at himself, "I'm your man."

"What's that supposed to mean?" That was one of the stupidest things I had ever heard.

He shrugged "Whatever you want it to mean, Singorina." He walked off, leaving me slightly dazed and confused. I watched him as he disappeared into the crowd. He was one of the strangest people I had ever met. Confident and cocky, but had a way with people. It seemed that the world was just a giant game to him.

It was many pages later when I saw Caesar walk up to the front desk. The host handed him the phone, and he gracefully held it to his ear. I struggled my way out of the chair and quickly walked over to him. He was muttering into the receiver, listening intently during the silence between.

"Right, we'll meet you at the Fontana del Tritone," he said with an air of finality. "Yes, goodbye." He handed it back to the host, then turned to me. "That was Speedwagon."

I nodded. "I thought so. You had better tell your date the bad news. I'll get the car." I started to walk away. "I'll meet you outside when you're ready." I said with a smirk.

I sat on the edge of the fountain, listening to the water bubble and cascade behind me. It would have been relaxing for me, even with the people milling about. But God had decided that today was not going to be a relaxing day for me.

The man that had pestered me in the hotel was none other than Joseph Joestar, one of the people we were supposed to meet with. In a twist of fate, he and Caesar had met in the restaurant, and immediately decided they hated each other. So much for working together. The two of them were avoiding each other, Caesar moping and Joseph playing with the pigeons. Speedwagon was trying his best to get the two to communicate like civilized people, but they were too damn stubborn.

Speedwagon was not quite what I was expecting. Firstly, I thought he was American. With him being an oil tycoon with most of his work based in America, it took me by surprise to hear a British accent. He also seemed very kind-hearted. It takes a lot of ruthlessness to survive in the business world. He had remained caring and compassionate through it all. What a resiliant man.

Caesar had caught notice of a pretty tourist taking photos of the local architecture. "Where are you from?" I watched as he turned up the charm. "Shall I take a picture of you and the fountain?" She blushed a bit, and turned her head away.

"I don't think Emilia will appreciate you flirting with other women," I leaned over and whispered. I wanted to grind his gears a bit.

He glanced at me. "Emilia doesn't care what I do now. She wasn't very happy I had to leave early. She threw a tantrum and left."

"Oh, no. Really?" I said with fake concern. "I'm so sorry for you."

"Don't patronize me. I know you didn't like her very much," he said without looking at me. He was stubborn about staying moody to the bitter end.

Joseph was cooing at the birds as they swarmed him. He was really enjoying them. "These birds sure are friendly," he said to no one. "A lot smarter than the men around here, don't you think?" He turned and yelled at Caesar, who didn't react besides scoffing at him. Both of them were being stupid. We had a job to do, and the two of them were letting pride and ego get in the way.

"Knock it off, Jojo!" Speedwagon stood as quickly as his aging bones would let him. "We didn't come all this way for nothing. You two better start talking!"

Beside me, Caesar turned just enough to look at Speedwagon. "I'm sorry, but not a chance."

I put a hand to my face. "Oh, Holy Mother..." I mumbled. He was going to make this as long and painful as he could.

"After our Grandfather died fifty years ago, our father took up his torch and spent his life hunting the mask. We Italians value our familial bonds more than any other culture in the world. It is everything to me!" Caesar's voice rose with every word. He stood and pointed at Joseph with vitriol. "That is something he will never understand! He only learned of his grandfather three months ago! A true man knows his history."

Joseph rose from the ground, the pigeons flying away. "Tell me this, 'true man,'" he pointed back at Caesar. "Is your whole family really this dumb?" Felt felt my blood boiling at his words.

"Hold on, Caesar," Speedwagon interjected, motioning Joseph to calm down. "He didn't know about his family because I kept it a secret from him."

I looked up at my brother, anger coursing through my veins. Not only was he making a fool of himself, Joseph had just insulted our family because of his ridiculous rant. "You have no place to talk, Caesar." He didn't acknowledge me, but I knew he was listening. "We didn't know about our family until a few years ago. He's in the same position we were."

He shook his head, trying to downplay what I had said. "That doesn't matter. I was expecting some impressive strength after hearing he fought Straizo and one of the Pillar Men. That's why we were waiting at the hotel." He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as if it hurt him to speak. He hadn't mentioned that bit of information when we booked the hotel. "I am disappointed to say, his Hamon skills leave much to be desired."

I glared at him. "That's what you were doing in the restaurant? Playing around with Hamon?" I looked to Joseph, then back again. "I would expect this of Joseph, but not of you Caesar! We have more important things to worry about than your petty squabbles."

"Hey!" Joseph said in defense.

"Aren't you listening?" Caesar yelled back. "His Hamon is weak, near useless! His defeat of the Pillar Man was nothing but blind luck! How are we supposed to work someone so pathetic?"

Joseph growled. "Now, listen here!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Caesar!" I stood up and met his intensity. "We need Joseph to defeat the other Pillar Men, whether you like him or not!"

"I won't be forced to work with this imbecile!" Caesar interrupted, his anger reaching boiling point.

"Working with an imbecile is better than being dead! We need every Hamon user we can get our hands on!" Why was he letting his emotions cloud his judgement? These Pillar Men could put the world in jeopardy, and he was more concerned with who he was working with.

Speedwagon tried to calm the situation. "Caesar, please! Joseph hasn't had any proper Hamon training yet...."

Joseph stepped in front of him, cracking his knuckles. "We're done talking here. I'm going to settle this with a good thrashing."

Caesar grinned. He grabbed the tourist he had been talking to earlier, bringing her in close. "With your weak Hamon, you wouldn't be able to pick the petals off this delicate flower."

Joseph looked around hastily. "Yeah? Well, you couldn't beat one of these pigeons!"

I threw up a hand in dismissal. "You two are the stupidest and most reckless people I have ever had the misfortune of meeting." I began to walk away. "When you two are done beating the shit out of each other, I'll be waiting in the car to drive you to the nearest hospital. Just find me when you are done." I was so angry, I had begun to shake a bit. Caesar was being so unreasonable, letting his pride get in the way of everything we had been working towards. After we had come all this way, trained so hard, sacrificed so much, he was willing to throw it all away because Joseph was acting like an idiot.

I stormed away, heading across the street and around the corner where I parked the car earlier. I yanked the door open and climbed in the driver's seat. I slammed the door shut, letting myself slump against the warm leather and worked the crank to roll the window down.

I loved my brother. I loved him dearly. I didn't understand why he did this to himself. He was so good at making bad decisions. He always had been, even when we were younger. He had thought crime was better than working a job. He thought running away to Roma to escape his problems was better than staying with what little was left of his family. He let his emotion guide him, and his emotions usually had the worst solutions.

Learning to use Hamon was probably the best thing that happened to us. By then, the younger ones could take care of themselves, and I could go with Caesar to train under Lisa Lisa. Keep him out of trouble for a little while. But by then, he seemed to have leveled out some. Maybe it was because he finally had something to work towards. Whatever it was, it wasn't working now. He had become so blinded by his anger and resentment that he was willing to throw it all away.

I slumped against the seat even more. What I supposed to do? I had tried talking some sense into him. Well, more like yelling some sense into him, and it didn't seem to work.

A figure moved just outside my periphery. I leaned forward a bit to get a better look. It was Joseph, making his way to the car. "Are you two done yet?" I called to him, hearing the tiredness in my own voice.

He closed the gap, leaning against the frame of the window. "I rather think so." He gave his signature smirk. "You're brother's good, but not good enough for the likes of me!"

I narrowed my eyes. "So he did lose to the pigeon."

"Bingo," he said with a wink. "Speedwagon and Caesar are talking about a few things. They said they would be here soon." He looked around, then turned back to me. "What's Caesar's deal anyway? All I did was launch some Hamon de Seppia at him, and he immediately hates me."

I sighed and looked away. "I don't know. He's always been like this." A thought for a moment. "Hamon de Seppia? You had a food fight in the restaurant?!"

Joseph waved his hands in front of his face. "No, no, nothing like that at all!" He scrunched up his face. "If it wasn't for that Casanova being such a jerk and his stupidly obvious flirting, I wouldn't have used Hamon in the first place."

I didn't believe him for a second. "You know," I said slowly, "You complain that Caesar decided to hate you for no reason, but you acted the same way to him. You are guilty of the same thing he is."

His gaze wandered over my face. "The difference between me and that wet noodle is that I can read people. I can tell what kind of a person he really is."

"First impressions don't tell the whole story, Joseph." I returned the intense stare. "You made up your mind from the beginning, and you don't want to be proven wrong."

He began tapping the metal door with his finger. "I wasn't wrong about you, Senorina." Playfulness began to creep into his eyes.

His words made me suspicious. "What about me?" I asked cautiously.

I could see the cogs moving behind his eyes. This was just another game to him. "Well," he began with a sly grin, "When I first saw you, I could tell you were the quiet type. You have a temper on you, but you like to keep it under wraps." I could feel his eyes searching for a reaction from me. "But you are very protective about the people you care about. You also are spicy and sarcastic, having a fire to you that most people don't have."

I was thinking so fast, trying to come up with some witty comeback. Nothing was really coming to mind, but something was bugging me a bit. "What you say is true," I began, mulling over my words, "But you don't know why I am the way I am. You know my actions, but you don't know who (Y/N) is. You can read people very well, but you only read what is on the surface. It takes a lot longer to really know a person."

His grin turned toothy. "Do you want to know me better? Because I want to know you better, Senorina."

I glared at him. "What do you mean by that, Joseph?"

He shrugged. "It's whatever you want it to mean."

"Don't be coy. Give me a straight answer, damn it."

He chuckled. "I don't think so. That would take all the fun out of it, don't you think?"

I rolled my eyes. "If you want to be friends, I have no problems with that. If you want some sort of fling, I don't do those. If you are wanting some sort of serious relationship... We'll see."

"We'll see?" His eyes sparkled. "You sound eager, Senorina."

"Not a chance," I said, not as angry as I wanted it to sound.

"I think soooooo..." A goofy smile on his face. "You want a non-stop lover like me."

"I don't think you could last that long," I slid the comment in.

"Eh, uh," he sputtered, "You don't know until you try, smooth operator."

"You seem keen on convincing me," I smirked at him. "Go ahead. Give it your best shot. And keep in mind, Caesar will hate you more than he already does. It doesn't matter whether you succeed or not." I looked over his shoulder. "Here he comes, by the way."

Joseph whipped around to see Speedwagon and Caesar, deep in discussion and heading our way. He turned back to me, fire in his eyes. "Let's make a deal," he said hastily.

"A deal?"

"Yes." I could tell he was trying to think of something, and fast. "If I can defeat you in a Hamon battle, you go out to lunch with me."

I raised an eyebrow. "When would we have this battle?"

"Uhm... After we meet with this coach of yours," he manages. "The first free moment we get, we settle this."

I look back at Speedwagon and Caesar, who were just out of earshot. "You're on."

Joseph smiled and pumped his fist. "Alright! You better not back out!"

"I don't plan on it. Now, get into my car. We're leaving." I leaned out the window as Joseph moved away. "You two done?" I called out.

"Sorry for keeping you waiting, (Y/N)," Speedwagon apologized. "Caesar and I were discussing our next steps."

"It's alright." I look over to the passenger seat. Joseph was trying to claim the front. "Get in the back seat. Caesar sits there."

"You better leave my sister alone, or I will beat you into a pulp!" Caesar threatened, pointing menacingly.

"Oh? Like you did that pigeon?" Joseph taunted, crossing his arms with his usual cockiness.

I hit my head on the rim of the steering wheel. This was going to be miserable. "Just get in."

"If you say so, Lady Driver," Joseph moved to the back seat, right behind the passenger. Speedwagon climbed in on the other side.

As Caesar settled in beside me, I looked over to him. "Are we still going ahead as planned?"

He nodded. "Yes. I'm still waiting for our man to get in touch."

"What man?" Joseph asked from behind us. He leaned forward so his head poked out between us.

"You'll find out." I said, shoving his head out of the way. I turned the key in the ignition, and the engine roared under the hood. This was going to be an interesting journey, that was certain. I just had to keep Caesar and Joseph from killing each other before it all ended.

[risingsouls]

Recruited: Chapter 3

[I finally finished this. I knew because it had combat in it, it would take me a bit longer, but surprisingly, that part wasn’t as painful as I thought it would be. And was pretty fun to write. :3

Anyway, long one here but we’re makin’ progress!]

Nabooru

Only Nabooru’s innate sense of direction and memory from Zarbon’s tour helped her find her way back to her room once she came to after the procedure, and the numbers that once seemed foreign on the pad next to her door felt as innate as if she learned them alongside her basic arithmetic in her youth back home. A sign the chip worked, if nothing else. Small and windowless, her room was as inviting as a prison cell and only half a foot remained between her fingertips and each wall when she spread them out. The bed in the corner at least looked long enough, but was less than half as wide as that she slumbered in back home, and a press of her palm on the thin mattress made her miss the plush pillows and blankets that cradled her along with the feather-filled mattress all the more. A counter spanned along the wall across the foot of the bed adjacent to the door and she rested her bag there where she would unpack it at a later, more wakeful time. 

Had she not sat on the edge of her bed and considered whether she had the energy to strip down before falling asleep, she noted the set of mirrored double doors across from her. Curiosity defeated her drowsiness and, with the press of the button, she opened it up. Inside, she found spare changes of her uniform in the same colors and styles as well as a few sets of a drab gray fabric. Unfolding them revealed them to be sleepwear of sorts with shorts in the same style and fabric as her armor and a sleeveless top that, when she swapped her armor out for the new outfit, found the top to be looser and more comfortable for sleep than the skin-tight battle suit. The top was a little on the short side, a quarter of her toned midriff on display, but, even if she did care, she didn’t have the capacity to consider taking it up with Zarbon or anyone else.

The sleep Nabooru managed could only be attributed to the residual drugs left in her system as her nerves over not understanding how to tell time woke her several times. After the third, she fought the remnants of exhaustion and remained awake, changing back into her uniform and heading to the classroom where she would begin her lessons. Sunshine or something like it eventually glimmered through the window, but she could only guess how long she waited there in the empty space, fiddling with the device fitted to the side of her head in the meantime. 

A signal sounded what she guessed was the first meal and, after another half hour, perhaps, the whir of the door pulled her from a confusing rabbit hole of commands she had sifted through on the scouter. A short, squatty alien with yellow-splotched orange skin and at least a half dozen tentacled arms dangling around him like a frilled collar shuffled into the room, casting her little more than a haughty, disapproving glance through watery and bulging eyes. He introduced himself as Plumme and steamrolled straight into the first lesson. Despite his demeanor, Plumme proved more patient than she expected. Still, by the time the signal for the second meal sounded through the complex, her head was pounding from hours of cramming nonstop and new information about the technology she would become familiar with, how the business worked, the history of the Cold Empire and the PTO, and the limitless depths of space. 

Once dismissed until the same time the next morning, she trudged to the mess hall, using both her memory and the map function in her scouter for practice in using it outside of lessons. With a full afternoon of training--a far more exciting prospect than her morning regimen--she would need her strength. She ignored the expected stares and not-so-discrete comments about her looks or newbie status in favor of focusing on the array of strange foods and scents laid out along the line and piling them onto her tray as others in front of her did. She skirted around the tables and soldiers to commandeer an empty one. With limited time, she didn’t fuss with what she shoved into her mouth, only sliding something to the side if it threatened to lurch back up before it could make it to her belly. 

Out of both excitement for the prospect of training her combat skills over bombarding her mind and concern over the consequences of being late, she followed the example of other soldiers in disposing of her scraps and tray and hurried back to the classroom where she was instructed to meet her trainer. From there, they would take her to a training area of their choice. Plumme suggested it would be one of the multiple training rooms with infinite virtual simulations for any combat situation one could dream up. Convenient, artificial,  and efficient, as everything seemed to be there. 

When she turned the last corner, she couldn't help but snort at the irony of who she found leaned against the wall outside of the classroom. The fluorescent lights overhead reflected off his bald dome, and his folded arms over his broad chest and frown that followed the growth of his mustache denoted less than excitement for the task set to him. She supposed she would have a hard time heeding Zarbon's warning to stay away from him and his cohorts--Saiyans, he called them--if he was to instruct her for the next month.

Turning his head, his sour expression melted away, a smirk replacing it in a split second. "I was beginning to think you chickened out," he said as she halted by his side. "Would have been unfortunate considering we don't get many lookers like you around here."

Nabooru's eyelids lowered, and she considered putting him through the wall. Not five seconds into their first meeting and he already had the gall to flirt with her. "I noticed. I haven't seen one person around here that isn't a total eyesore." Recognition dawned slow over his features, and Nabooru adopted his smirk in light of it. Before he could retort, she cut him off. "So you're the one training me, huh? Where are the other two who were with you?"

"Sure am. I'd be more upset about another nanny gig if they had shoved anyone else on me. Looks aside, your power level is something else for a new recruit, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't interested in seeing what you're made of. Frieza said your people are similar to Saiyans, too. Now I get a front row seat to see just how well that holds up." He turned and signaled for her to follow with a crook of two large fingers. "You mean Vegeta and Raditz? Off on some job or other s'far as I know. I'm sure they'll be missing me when they realize how much slack they have to pick up. And jealous when they find out I get to spend half a day with you instead of having to look at their ugly mugs."

Nabooru bit her tongue to stifle a sassy retort, deciding it best to stay on his good side for the time being. He seemed easy-going enough, but she wanted to get the most out of her training, not give him reason to sabotage it. "Guess you're getting a nice little vacation then until I get to beat the tar out of you in a spar," she said, grinning in the face of the sneer he shot her. So much for not poking the molduga. "What do you have planned for me, er...what should I call you?"

"Master Nappa has a nice ring to it." They halted in front of a pair of doors. Nappa and the guard on duty exchanged a nod. The guard opened up the doors to a ramp sloping down to a desolate, red-soiled surface. Craggy cliffs and spires of rock jutted into the teal skyline. "Or just master is great, too."

"I'm not calling you master," Nabooru quipped, following him down the ramp. Rust-colored dust stained her once pristine boots upon reaching the planet's surface, but she welcomed it along with the first hint of a proper breeze on her skin and passingly fresh air in her lungs. "Let's compromise the other way and go with Nappa. That or I'll think of something you won't like."

Nappa rubbed a hand along his square jaw. "You drive a hard bargain, lady. But fine. I'm still going to refer to myself as your master though, and you as my pupil." His feet left the ground to hover above it. "You can at least fly, right?"

She followed his lead in answer. "My name is Nabooru. Not lady."

“Not a bad name, I guess. A little weird...” 

He took to the sky and Nabooru followed suit, using the silence between them to observe the planet she now called home, even if only temporarily. It sounded like she would move around quite a bit. Outside of the complex, the further they flew, the more sure she became that it was completely barren and devoid of other life. The remnants of what could have been buildings and civilization suggested it may not have always been that way. Optimism had her wanting to believe Frieza and his men had found the planet already abandoned, but the bits of knowledge she had scraped together from Zarbon and her morning lessons suggested the planet was purposefully and violently cleared to harbor this base.

“Here’s a good spot.”

Nabooru nearly collided with his massive back in her sightseeing, narrowly avoiding the embarrassment by floating to his side instead. “Is there something I’m supposed to see here?” she asked with a cocked eyebrow, arms folded. It looked much the same as the rest of the planet. “Plumme mentioned a training room. Why aren’t we using that?”

“You ask too many questions,” he muttered gruffly, facing her and mirroring her cross-armed posture. “We’re training with ki, we need the room, and I’m not here to half-ass your training. How’s that for a reason?”

“Touchy.” 

The Saiyan grumbled more, and her lips twitched in another smile when she just made out a threat to make her suffer through this training. Though she wanted a good challenge, she decided to wait and see what he might throw at her without egging him on for more. She wanted to give him a fair chance to put her to the test of his own accord.

“From what I understand, you’ve got the basics of ki under your belt, right?” Nabooru nodded.  “Good then this will be fun.”

Nabooru raised an eyebrow as Nappa scanned their surroundings, searching for she  could only guess what in this barren wasteland. His roving eyes eventually halted, and she followed his gaze to a stalagmite twice her height jutting out of a field of smaller ones surrounding it. "Perfect.”

Her brows lowered, lips turned down in a baffled grimace, observing the stalagmite and the field of smaller ones surrounding it. Were they going to spar over it? She faced a bloody demise if he knocked her into it hard enough. She shuddered at the image of her mangled body pierced on the formations. "What does a bunch of rocks have to do with ki training?”

"Are you questioning my teaching methods?" She started to reply with a snarky affirmative, but the Saiyan cut her off. "You’re going to use your ki to keep yourself levitated over that rock there." He tilted his head toward the largest of the formations. “And no, not by flying before you try that on me. You’re going to concentrate your energy into your finger and use it to keep yourself from being impaled and without destroying the rock. You’ll do that for an hour. You cheat, boost yourself too high, or fall, we start the hour over.”

She hoped for a challenge, and Nappa had delivered. Controlling her ki in such a way, keeping it at a low enough level while also strong enough to keep herself aloft would take skill and focus. Controlling her ki for a long period which would benefit her ability to maintain it in a fight. While it wouldn’t utilize the maximum reaches of her ki power wise, she could see the benefit of learning to use it in more concentrated ways. With this exercise likely serving as a warm up, she both dreaded and looked forward to what else he had in store for her. 

Boots lifted from the ground and she drifted up to the stalagmite. With at least an hour of this ahead of her, she wanted to waste no time. She doubted failing to measure up to whatever standards Frieza had in mind for her would bode well for her. She needed every minute she could glean to improve herself. Learn how to utilize her ki to the very finest uses and in the ways best for her new station.

Gripping the tip of the stalagmite, she hoisted herself up onto it, legs extended to the sky and one arm holding her up. The stone that made up her pedestal was sturdier than she imagined, her touch doing little to disturb its integrity. Bolstered, she shifted up onto her fingertip and adjusted her body's balance accordingly. She had to approach the next phase with the utmost care. Too little energy would fail to lift her, and too much would destroy the pillar entirely. Neither conducive outcomes toward her training as both would waste time. Thus, she fed the barest amount of ki into her fingertip, orange light flickering at the tip of her glove. Again and again she repeated this process, adding minimal increments of energy until it lifted her finger from the point. Not until an inch of orange-yellow light glowed between leather and rock did she pause, memorizing how it felt and what it would take to maintain the pose. Ensuring it was only that point that held her aloft. Keeping an eye on the stalagmite itself for signs of breakage.

"This high enough?" She asked Nappa at last, lifting her head to find the Saiyan lounging on a boulder, arms folded and observing her with the hint of a smirk. Sweat already beaded on her forehead, embarrassing after only a few minutes. If she made it through the hour, she would be drenched before they did anything active. 

"Sure is. You got that faster than I thought you would." He tapped his scouter. "I was pretty sure we'd have to find at least one more rock to use. Guess you're a whole lot more patient than Vegeta when he was a kid. Hell, probably now, too."

She dropped her head again, not wanting to waste any energy on holding it up. "So this is a regular exercise for your training camp, huh? Here I thought I was special."

"Heh, yep. Vegeta and Raditz went through this as brats. Vegeta obliterated the first three rocks we tried with, probably on purpose. Raditz got caught in the crossfire and would have to start over with him." He chuckled, the memory obviously a fond one. "Finally got 'em to do it right, but it only lasted a week. You'll get to start each session this way for a month."

"So you're saying I could throw a temper tantrum and get out of doing this?" 

"Not a chance."

She blew out a puff of air. "Worth a try." 

Silent minutes ticked by, the sound of the breeze between the canyon walls and Nappa shifting in his seat once in while all that interrupted them. She had begun to feel the strain the constant flow of energy took on her, and it began to overtake her attention to remaining aloft. She glanced to Nappa. "So are you their father?" she asked, hoping the conversation would take her mind off of the settling fatigue. 

He snorted. "Hell no. You really think either of them could be my kid?" She rolled her eyes and he continued. "Nah, I was just the only adult Saiyan left so I got stuck with caring for the two squirts."

"Wait." She lifted her head again and righted the flutter of her energy before her surprise got her impaled. "You three are the last of your race? What happened to the rest of them?"

Nappa grunted and frowned, eyes closing beneath a furrowed brow. "Planet was destroyed by a meteor years ago. S'far as we know, we were the only survivors. The prince, his retainer, and a bushy haired runt that just got lucky. Though, I guess we all did."

Her stomach churned. She knew what it was like for her people to be on the brink of potential destruction. These three lived through the worst case scenario of it. The actualization of the doomsday scenes her mind had conjured for her race in dream and waking alike for the last several years.

"How did you survive?" Though only two days into her career, she did understand that people couldn't breathe in space. Not to mention the survival of a planet's destruction would be slim so she thought.

"Like I said. Luck, really." Nabooru lifted her head enough to see the tinge of what she assumed was pain or regret flash over his otherwise neutral expression. "The three of us were off planet at the time. The king and Frieza had made some kind of agreement. For whatever reason, his power I'm guessing, Frieza wanted Vegeta close by. Maybe for grooming to be one of his generals one day, who really knows. That meant he got me, too, as the prince's caretaker. The king's request so I could keep an eye on him. He was just a brat back then, you know. Raditz was off on a mission. We found him floating where the planet used to be. His pod's autopilot took him back there."

Nabooru breathed out a sigh and watched a drop of sweat drip from the tip of her nose and into the stalagmite trap below. She bit her tongue on her sympathy, knowing had their roles been reversed, she wouldn't want to hear some stranger's apologies or endure their coddling. Once more, she felt an innate pull to Nappa and his cohorts with little information on them, the need to form bonds with someone in this new, daunting environment rearing its head as it had in their first, brief encounter. She couldn't afford those relationships, flimsy attachments that could disappear in the blink of an eye and be used against her.

Besides, they had each other. The last three of their kind. She was the one perfectly alone there.

"What are your people like, huh? Frieza said you guys reminded him of us."

The question felt like a twisted dagger in her heart. She hadn't realized she felt homesick until that moment, her new schedule keeping her busy and her mind occupied. She felt a hitch upward in her ki and she quelled it quickly before it could send her skyward or damage the stalagmite. She shook her head to erase the visions of the desert, the temple, her friends, mother, and lover. She had to stay strong. For them. A whiny baby begging to go home would be met with a cold shoulder at best.

"We're warriors. The greatest on the planet without contest. Even more so now that we can use ki. All women save for the one male born each century." She heard a curiously pleased rumble from the Saiyan and she snapped, "Don't get any stupid ideas. And don't think too much into the plausibility of that. The legends point to one of our goddess but no one really knows how it happens. Hyrule doesn't have much in the way of technology or all this scientific advancement. So if there's a more concrete reason, we wouldn't know of it."

"Heh, sounds like that male is pretty lucky, then." Nabooru shot him a glare, causing him to chuckle. "Alright, keep your shorts on. So what lucky happenstance put you guys and your planet on Frieza's radar? With no technology and warriors with no knowledge of ki, that leaves little left for him to take interest."

Had she not been afraid the motion would throw her off balance, she would have shrugged. “Resources are what the scouts concluded, I think. I guess with so much of the planet untouched, they found plenty they could use.” She bent her legs at the knees for a few seconds before straightening them out again. “They found out about our troubles with the other races on the planet, and Frieza made us a deal: his soldiers teach us how to use ki so we could overthrow the current monarchy in power and free ourselves, and in exchange, they rule the planet in his stead and he gets me to add to his ranks.”

Nappa pondered her explanation, tapping his fingers on his bicep. “There are worse deals, I guess. I don’t suppose you know how that turned out?”

“No. We had undergone about a month of training before Frieza showed up and said he wanted me.”

“Lucky you,” Nappa said with a snort, and Nabooru didn’t disagree with the evident sarcasm. Before either could continue, Nappa’s scouter beeped thrice, and he tapped the button on the side. “Well, congratulations. You completed your warm up.”

Nabooru sighed in relief and eased herself back down, grasping the top of the stalagmite again and righting her orientation. She floated back down to land in front of Nappa, a slight drain on her reserves of energy evident with just that simple task. A kink to work out if she wanted to last and become a true force to be reckoned with.

"Now what? Are you going to spar with me?"

The Saiyan snorted again and reached into this armor, bringing out a glass vial. Small, green spheres floated in a paler shaded liquid. "Maybe another day. For now, you'll be fighting these Saibamen. Should be around your power level. Unlike me, these are expendable."

"So you're scared?" Nabooru taunted with a grin as Nappa squatted down and pressed the spheres into the ground and sprinkled the liquid over them. Curiosity stifled the rest of her taunts. "Are those plants? You're making me fight plants?"

“Heh, something like that.” Not a moment later did the dampened ground crack where he placed the seeds. What resembled bulbous cabbages plowed through the ground. Three-clawed hands raked along the ground and pulled out short, gangly bodies. They let out a cacophony of ear-splitting shrieks, and Nabooru clapped her hands over her ears.

"What are those things?" she shouted. She let her hands fall back to her sides when the creatures closed their mouths, devious little grins on their faces.

Nappa dropped the vial back into his armor. "These are called Saibamen. They’ll be your opponents. I want to see how well and how much you already incorporate ki into your own brand of combat." He grinned at her. "And what better way than with multiple enemies."

Her initial impression was that they didn't look like much. Scrawny and fragile things easily disposed of. However, she remembered that he said they had a power level close to her own, and though she still didn't quite understand what sort of statistics composed a power level, she knew better than to take them too lightly. Nappa's warm up exercise hadn't been a walk through a field of flowers, after all.

With a nod, she drifted out into a wider space, creating distance between herself and her new opponents as well as her spectating instructor. She bent her knees and shifted into a comfortable fighting stance, her weight balanced and both arms raised. "Ready when you are."

"You heard her. Go have some fun, ya runts!"

They needed no convincing. The six Saibamen shot straight for with another chorus of those shrieks, their speed notable but nothing she couldn't handle. Instinct kicked in as she dodged and blocked their flurry of kicks and punches while bearing the brunt of those she couldn't contend with, the pain of them registering for no more than a moment as she focused on taking down her opponents. The first order of business being moving from defense to offense before they wore her down and overpowered her with their numbers. 

She caught one of them by the wrist and slammed it into the one nearest one, sending two skittering off several meters from her and the rest of the mob. The bite of claws dug into the meat of her thigh and another landed a kick to her opposite side before she could block the next punch aimed her her face with a raised forearm. Orange-yellow energy built in her free palm and she shot a sphere of it at the one who had drawn blood. She swung a powerful kick at the one in front of her, catching it and another up in the sweeping arc and sending them flying away from her. 

Though only one remained in her immediate vicinity, she knew she had very precious few seconds before the other piled back in. Orange energy enveloped her and she shot backward, eyes flitting to each enemy and noting their location, how quickly they would recuperate to continue their onslaught. The first two had recovered and fired toward her, one with its own yellow ki blasts forming in its hands. The others were already regaining their feet.

She thought back to the desert, to the first time she did some real damage with her newfound abilities. The feeling of the energy it took to blow the top half clean off one of the larger plateaus dotting the desert landscape flowing from the vat of it within her to the palm of her hands. A similar attack could deal with the two speeding toward her. If not completely, it would weaken them enough to give her an opening to finish them off.

Her orange-yellow ki built in her hands at her sides and pushed them both out in front of her, firing the blast toward the advancing Saibamen. The light swallowed the fired blasts from one and the plant creatures followed suit, their shrieks of pain short lived as they disintegrated into nothing. A third had hastily tried to hop into the fray and gotten caught in the blast, leaving only the right half of its body to fall to the dusty ground. A gruesome sight that made her insides squirm, but she didn't have time to stare or consider how many more she would mutilate in such a way in this new position. How many wouldn't be just training fodder like these creatures.

The remaining Saibamen reminded her of the miniscule window in punishing fashion. A fist caught her side and knocked her off balance and sideways, her armor only seeming to absorb some of the blow. A second waited to boot her straight into the air. Before she could right herself the third zipped upward to bash his joined hands into her abdomen, knocking the wind out of her and sending her careening to the ground. Her back slammed the surface, spittle and blood emitting from her lips on impact and a spiderweb of cracks cascading outward from her body. 

Another beep of her scouter told her what she already knew. Ignoring the pain in sore muscle and bone, Nabooru rolled to her feet as one of the monsters slammed a fist into the ground where her head had been, the indentation left deep. She threw her elbow back into another that tried to sucker punch her in the spine and used the moment of surprise in the first to fire another wave of ki at it. Another shriek and it was reduced to dust, leaving two alive and her patience running ever thinner.

She flipped around to face the one behind her, only just recovering from her elbow connecting hard with its face. He was chattering angrily in its nonsensical language and brushing the last bit of bluish ooze from its face. Nabooru fired forward again. Energy surged to her right fist as she aimed a heavy punch for its gut. She saw the confusion on its face when her punch landed and tore through green flesh, bone, muscles, and organs like paper and through to the other side. Once more she had to suppress her own surprise and the lunch she ate when she considered what she did and yanked her arm free of the creature to engage the final opponent. 

It was just a beast. Just like the monsters in Hyrule.

She flicked the cyan blood from her glove and faced the final Saibaman, the fear on its face palpable and it's desire to flee written in its eyes. To prevent the chance, she closed the gap between them, gathering energy as she did. Once at point blank range, she released it. Awful as it felt to some degree, she preferred this tactic. Complete obliteration that felt less personal. Less messy. Less to look at in the aftermath and feel guilt over.

When the dust settled, she heard the applause of large hands and Nappa's boisterous laughter. "You really give new meaning to the term bombshell! You did better than I expected, honestly." He folded his arms with a smirk. "There's still work to be done, but I'm glad I have a better base to work with than I was expecting. You handle yourself like a true warrior out there. Nappa's pupil, the next up and comer in the Frieza Force. Has a real nice ring to it."

"It's only what I trained my whole life for," she replied, though the proud smile was more than apparent on her lips. She hoped it made her look less worn out than she felt. "So what's next?"

"Heh, raring to go, are ya?" Nappa pulled the vial out of his armor again. "Alright. I like it. We're going to do the same thing, but this time, I want you to stay airborne as much as possible. Think you can handle that?"

In truth, the Gerudo wasn't certain. Her experience with fighting while flying were minimal. Not to mention the ever-growing exhaustion. But she refused to tell him that. She would rise to the challenge. 

“Plant another round, Nappa. I’m ready.”

[elizabeth-234]

The Supplejack

Previous Chapter Sixteen: Civil War 

Summary so far from previous chapter: Here's a summary of the previous chapter: Peter goes to upstate New York with his team plus Flash and Ned. They all have fun with some heart to heart conversations about the disaster that was the end of their project because of the trip to Oscorp. It's summer with two weeks back to school. Peter reflects on what happened with Mr. Stark with much angst and sadness. He's also working himself too hard with two jobs, one at a coffee shop and the other at a radio supply store called Barry's. It is there that Peter finds himself watching the news as Civil War happens. Close footage of the event is released and the world watches as two superheroes battle it out. Peter stumbles home and calls Mr. Stark to make sure he's okay only to get a voicemail. He doesn't leave a message. 

Chapter Seventeen: Reflection and Realizations 

Peter always felt at odds with the world. From his youth – the time waking up alone in the hospital and going through middle school with laughter following at his back – left the impression of permanent displacement. The uncomfortable foreignness he sometimes felt inside his own skin was nothing new. Peter’s preference for a quiet room over something loud was strange to people. Sam Carlson called him a freak and at the time Peter cried. When no one stood up for him he believed it was true. What else would explain the differences between him and everyone else?

At home, his family knew and loved his differences. Ben wore his varsity jacket with pride. Peter would run up to him and beg to wear it, loving how the plush leather draped around his shoulders. Hoping one day he could wear his own like Ben. Peter could remember Ben’s excited ramblings. All the plans he made for Peter - with Peter. When he fell short of those dreams, Ben still loved him.

Ben took him to ice cream outings after spelling bees and pushing Peter to believe in himself no matter what. He showed Peter that sometimes, with special people, those differences weren’t considered bad but unique. Like his quirks were interesting instead of outlandish.

With the anniversary of Ben’s death approaching at the end of the week and now Germany, the differences felt like too much. His skin itched. He wanted to destroy his phone and hide under the blankets in his room. He also wanted to plop himself down in front of five monitors and make sure he didn’t miss anything.

It was a week since Germany. Seven days of news stations repeating words and phrases over and over again. Their pantomime words were pointless and flat but Peter couldn’t do anything but watch them. He had to make sure there wasn’t a speck of information missed. What if new injuries came to light? What if, after the bloody fight there was more violence and fear? The smallest word could incite the people of New York and the world to shift to a strange unease. To look at their heroes as lesser because of an in-house fight. Would they be wrong do so? So, hours of the tv he watched.

Today, though was different. He climbed out of bed to drag himself to the couch in their living room. It was still pushed to the side of the wall so May could roll her yoga mat out in the middle of the room so he had to sit at the end and crane his neck to see.

Peter yawned and stretched his back before turning on the tv. Both hope and dread tangled in his stomach as he waited to see if anything new happened while he was asleep. The first thing he noticed was the absence of colors. There was no red and gold; no red, white, and blue either. Instead a story played about a new workout fad on the morning show. Both hosts tried to squat in heels and a tight suit and all Peter could do was watch in disbelief.

He moved to the edge of the couch, digging his hands into the sides of the cushions. Peter switched the channels back and forth but …  there was nothing. Not a single story on the Avengers.

The day passed in a blur after that. Peter sat in the back of Barry’s listening to the radio as he worked. The Yaesu FT – 891 sat exposed in front of him on the table. Gears and widgets crowded the small paneling of the front.

Still no word about it on the radio. Iron Man, Captain America, The Avengers. Nothing.

It was incomprehensible. How had the world already moved on? The arguably largest powers of the world clashed in epic proportions and a week later no one cared. Everyone else was getting back to normal.

Peter’s whole world had changed. Maybe in minuscule terms but at a fundamental level. If this was what it meant to be at odds with the world then maybe it was a good thing. If he could remember, keep those relentless attacks and trembling fists in mind, then maybe it was worth it.

Before their upstate getaway. Peter scowled at the news. He hated how these strangers gossiped and mongered any information they had about Mr. Stark. Chest heaving from running. Peter watched from the side of the street as Iron Man was on the tv. Mr. Stark wearing his superhero persona complete with the large glasses and faux smile. When the woman who walked up beside him asked him who the man really was he was blindsided. Who else would he be besides Iron Man?

Peter didn’t understand at the time.

It was when he saw Mr. Stark, when Iron Man had fallen to the ground. Blood stained the red metal dripping onto the concrete underneath him. Peter realized he was as bad as the people in the hallway of the Tower like the man who spilled coffee on himself as their boss walked by all those months ago. He was the one staring at the man from behind glass – through a pair of Mr. Stark’s rose tinted glasses.

All those months he’d spent in knots because “it was Iron Man, after all.” Isn’t that what he thought before his presentation? All those dinners and movie nights with the man and Peter never viewed him as a person.

He was Iron Man.

But he was also Tony Stark.

Peter had never crossed that bridge or made the connection until now. His stomach churned at how long he’d willfully been ignorant.

Mr. Stark was a real human being made of flesh and blood. Not someone who didn’t care if their ‘past indiscretions’ were picked apart on the regular. Not a figurehead of a huge company or a symbol to the people. He was arrogant and flawed and … a kind person.

He was someone who fed Peter his favorite orders and watched boring school movies with him. He worried that Peter would get home safely ever time. He reached out to Peter, lifted him up, and all those months he worked with Peter. Mentored him as softly as he could when Peter was in no state to receive help.

It was like his eyes were opening after a long sleep.

When Ben passed it tore something out of Peter. He closed himself off from people. The hurt of him leaving left a bitter knot in Peter. One he never wanted to feel again. A hurt he would do anything to make sure he didn’t feel it again. The pain in his chest, squeezing and weighing heavy until he couldn’t breathe followed him for months

In the anguish, the solution became about connection. It was his connection that hurt, their love that was leaving this pain in Peter long after Ben was gone. If it wasn’t for that, maybe he wouldn’t be hurting as much. If, Peter had kept a distance, maybe Ben would still be alive. So, he turned his life was on autopilot. Didn’t allow himself to get attached to anyone and he was alone. He was getting by. It was all the better for it, he told himself.

Then the S.T.A.R.K. posters took over Midtown and something changed. A small spark ignited, just barely smoldering, but aflame all the same. Peter wanted to participate. He wanted to win. For the first time in a long time, he battled his insecurities and wrote his name on the paper outside the school office. Fingers trembled against the concrete wall but looking back on it now, it was the first step to reaching out and making a new connection, though at the time he didn’t see it that way.

His back still hurt from the hours spent hunched over at his desk scribbling in notebooks and testing materials. The knot in his stomach urged him to find a better solution. The recipe needed tweaking and the equation needed changing to make it the best. If he could find the right formula then maybe he could help someone. Maybe, the words taunted him, he could’ve saved Ben.

It was a lifeline just out of his reach. Peter struggled and grappled to grab hold and pull himself up even after hearing Ms. Potts and Mr. Stark spoke about him as he hid behind the plants. Not after the tour and the internship began could he breath again.

Not until the lab. The quiet moments in lab two were like the first relief of that pressure. The first quiet after the storm. Working next to Mr. Stark he found the ability to breathe again. Just for a few hours he could be present in himself, not feel the uncomfortable itch of being in his own skin, and just be. Only now did he realize he was sitting in the eye of the storm while the winds raged around him, waiting to move away and sink him into their tempest clouds.  

Mr. Stark made effort after effort to reach him. He asked about May and with genuine interest asked about school and life. Peter’s face turned hot as he remembered the glass of water and medicine waiting for him on the nightstand when he insisted on going to the tower when he was ill.

Why hadn’t he realized before?

Maybe it was because of Ben and his parents. Maybe Peter was scared to lose someone again. He didn’t want to ever put on a black, ill-fitting suit and hear the flat, kind words that never really captured what was special about a person again.

The man tried to show him but Peter wasn’t in a place to receive.

And that made the ache in his chest throb all the more.

There was nothing more he wished than to be thrown that rope again but it was gone now, pulled back to the safety of the boat while Peter was just now realizing he was lost at sea.

The why wasn’t important. It didn’t matter what Mr. Stark was getting out of it. It didn’t matter why he picked Peter or that he used him in whatever was happening with Oscorp. All of that stung but it didn’t negate the real moments when Mr. Stark became someone he could look up to. Someone he could look to for help.

What mattered was he showed Peter who he was underneath the larger than life image. Mr. Stark was a man who hadn’t noticed the view from his obnoxiously large tower until Peter pointed it out. He was the one who burned frozen pizza but new how to build rockets and whatever else his imagination dreamed up.

He had faults but he was trying.

Mr. Stark was a man Peter would never know further.

Again, his world changed without really changing at all. The subtle self-awareness became sharper and he could see, could finally admit what he wanted.

He wanted to visit with Julia and collaborate again, study together like friends. He wanted to hang out with Ned and Flash and just laugh without feeling so damn guilty. Peter wanted to go back to the Tower and spend his afternoons working on projects. Watch movies and make frozen pizza, not burned preferably. He thought of his promise to May, the feel of her arms impossibly strong around him and their words whispered together. He had thought he’d meant it when he said he would try for himself and her.

Now, though, he knew it was more of a child’s promise. Something said without much thought to how to progress.

“I want you to start taking care of yourself and loving yourself. I know it’s not easy and it downright sucks most of the time but can you try to do that?” May had said.

Had he tried?  Did he make any progress this summer?

At first, he worked himself to the bone. Tired from waking up and going to bed from school, Barry’s, and The Bitter End. There was purposefully no room to think and reflect, which was how Peter wanted it. While self-reflection was one of his strong suits, it was also a downfall. He would get trapped in these endless cycles of overthinking and doubting himself.

But it wasn’t sustainable. He was only one, arguably asocial, individual. It was too much at all hours of the day. His time at The Bitter End came to just that with loud shouting from Cindy and a year ban from the store. Peter wasn’t sure if the latter was a joke or not.

Working one job with school so far was working. Barry was a low maintenance boss and if he stayed on top of homework, school wasn’t too bad. Still, he missed going to the Tower after school. Working collaboratively with his team and spending time there after.

Peter sighed, rubbing his chest absentmindedly before shutting the radio off and leaning back in his chair.

How could the world move on so quick? How, after everything the Avengers did for them, could they just talk about workouts and other mundane things?

He took his cell phone out of his pocket and flipped it open. His thumb hovered over the enter button as he watched the blinking light highlight Mr. Stark’s number.

“Damn.” He said under his breath and closed the phone again. After that last time, he didn’t have the courage to call the number again or leave a voicemail.

Peter sank forward. His head rested into the curve of his elbows on the desk as he thought of what he should do next.

-

Despite his adversity to it, change came into his life whether he wanted it or not. Uncaring at the best of times and brutal at the worst.

Ned stood beside him and a glazed over Flash to the other side. The former was rambling on about a last-minute vacation he took with his parents to Toronto, while the latter didn’t even attempt to be impressed.  

“- and there’s this little town where they perform all these plays every year. We saw A Midsummer Night's Dream and boy was that way hornier than I thought.” 


“Well, if that isn’t fascinating but some of us have to get to class.”


“Don’t act all high and mighty, Flash. We’re in the same first period as you, dude.” Ned winked at Peter.

Flash was still Flash but he’d become less rough as time wore on. Ned seemed to have that effect on people, Julia too. Flash would gripe and grumble but to Peter, he seemed happier now than their freshman year. He wondered if maybe Flash had wanted a fresh start in high school as much as him. Peter grinned at him and rolled his eyes in good nature with Flash as Ned continued giving them a rundown of the play.

He looked around at the other students comparing schedules and groaning over their new teachers. A group of short students walked by them. Peter froze at their height difference. Was he that short last year? It felt weird but good to see how much he’d grown. They were no longer the small fish on campus. He grinned.

Peter followed Flash and Ned to their English first period. As luck, or not, would have it Mrs. Brzozowski was teaching their class again. Her scowl spoke volumes for how she felt about her schedule change.

He groaned along with the rest of the class when they received their assigned seating. Setting his backpack under his seat, Peter took a seat by the window and managed not to gloat at the good spot. Middle back and next to the window. Plenty of fodder for daydreams, though he suspects their novels will keep him engaged through the year. He missed Austen but was excited to read some American Literature this year.

By the time he made it home, Peter’s head was pounding. Lunch was thankfully quiet because he managed to find a spot in the library. Ned visited him before he was off to greet Midge and everyone. Peter sat in relative silence thinking over his peanut butter and jelly made from the heels of the bread (he’d have to get some more after work) about the school year ahead and the one he left behind last June. All the while he resisted the urge to look at his phone notifications.

Peter knew that he wouldn’t find anything there.

Tomorrow he could go and eat with everyone, Peter decided. By then the first day jitters would subside, at least a bit, and it would be nice to see Midge and Jaimik again. Not so much to hear about Mike’s latest antics.

As was his routine after work and homework, Peter climbed into bed adjusting his t-shirt from clinging to his back and curled up under the covers. After much tossing and turning and entirely too much thinking, he fell asleep.

Peter woke in a sweat clawing at his chest. The sweat soaked his shirt making it damp to the touch. His chest heaved from the great pressure threatening to explode out. His hands trembled and he threw them in front of him. There was no blood. He wasn’t bleeding. He wasn’t the rabbit or being torn apart as his subconscious wanted him to believe.

Peter couldn’t stop the ragged breathes. He tried to concentrate on his heart but it burned in his chest, the raging rhythm seemed to take over his body, pulsing in his head and stomach. Blindly, Peter reached out and pulled the notebook from the crevice of his bed and wall.  

Sometimes he would read through them but today he hugged them close to his chest. His fingers traced the indents and now fraying page ends until he could finally breath deep and steady.

It was only then in the still and dusk of not quite morning that Peter realized he was crying.

Thank you for reading.

Next Chapter Eighteen: Existing 

[kayteewritessteve]

Secrets and Sins - 9/13

Description: You flee from an abusive situation and find yourself on the other side of the country, creating new friends and possibly finding new love. But will you be able to escape your past? To truly move on with your life? Or will everything come crashing down around you in the blink of an eye?

Catch up HERE.

Word Count: 4,250

Pairing: Mobster!Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Violence. Drinking. Curse words. Brief mentions of abusive behaviour, and moments of abuse—nothing to in depth but could be upsetting to some. Plus possible other triggering thoughts and feelings described.

A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader, so I do proudly own all the errors, so there’s that.

You woke up to the bright sunlight shinning in through the large panelled bedroom windows. You were still wrapped up like a human taco in the blankets, in the exact same place you had fallen asleep in. Making you instantly realize you’d obviously slept so well, so deeply, that you hadn’t even moved a damn muscle all night. You reached your arms up above your head to stretch, while your toes pointed in the other direction. The motion causing the blankets to shift sightly, which sent a waft of a now very familiar scene up at you. You breathed in deeply and sighed out contently, as the smell of Steve engulfed you, and took over all your senses. You hadn’t noticed, in your tired state the night before, just how much the shirt smelt like him.

You pulled the neck hem up to your nose and took another deep breath, the smell calmed you even more. He had such a unique scent, it was manly, yet refined, with a hint of musky undertones. Whatever his cologne was, he should never change it, as it suited him, perfectly.

You felt wonderful this morning. Well rested and refreshed. However, your stretching had made you acutely aware of your urgent need for a bathroom. You wondered what time it was, so you lifted your head up to look for your purse, realizing that you’d left it downstairs, with your phone still in it. Shit. Okay, game plan time. First you’d need to find a bathroom, that was priority one, then you’d need to go get your purse.

You rubbed your eyes then pulled yourself out of your plush cocoon, and finally took in the room around you.

And of course it was just as stunning as the rest of the house. Because why wouldn’t it be? You laughed softly to yourself, as you pictured your still ridiculously empty apartment, and the air mattress you currently had as a bed.

You padded across the floor to the door and opened it slowly to peer out. Noticing Steve’s door was closed, and you didn’t hear any voices from around the house. Or at least within ear shot, because this place was fucking huge. You opened the door fully then tiptoed out and to the top of the stairs.

You leaned over the edge to scope things out and still didn’t hear or see anyone. But you did notice the open door to the right of the front door. You could just see a sink through it, figuring that must be a pounder room. You quietly made your way down the stairs, being extra vigilant for any noises or movements around you, as you went. You got to the powder room and slipped in, flicking on the lights and closing the door softly behind you.

Once you were done, you entered back out into the foyer, as you once again didn’t hear any sounds. Nothing at all. The house was a ghost town.

At this point you figured you were probably either the only one up, or maybe even the only one home. You hadn’t exactly asked Steve if he had plans today, so he could have very well gone out, and just left you here to rest.

You made your way towards the kitchen, entering it to see your purse, still on the counter where you’d left it. You ventured over to grab it and pulled your phone out, finding a new message from Wanda that read, ‘Hey girly, how was your day off? You free later?’

You snorted out a chuckle at that. Your day had started off great but then quickly went to complete and total shit, only to then end up really great again. You shook your head and glanced around at the massive kitchen with adjoining living room.

And you were about to pinch yourself, because this couldn’t be real, could it? You couldn’t have actually spent the night in thee King of New York's massive ass house, could you? Well, clearly you had. Shit, talk about a damn plot twist. You fired off a quick text back to Wanda, ‘It was interesting. I’ll tell you about it another time. As for if I’m free, I honestly don’t know, I’ll have to get back to you on that!’

You were about to make your way out of the kitchen, that is, until you heard the front door open, and a few voices echoing loudly through the house. Shit. You froze and instantly started looking for somewhere to hide. As you hadn’t gotten a full tour of the house yet, you honestly weren’t sure what doors led to where. You spun around a couple times looking for an escape, anything, but then stopped searching when you realized the voices were closer now. Much, much closer. So close that they were probably standing right behind you, in the kitchen archway.

You slowly turned around and were met with 4 sets of eyes, all staring silently at you. Except their eyes weren’t looking at you, per se, but instead locked on something low on your body. You looked down to see what they were staring at, and—instantly remembered you didn’t have any pants on. Fuck. You quickly grabbed on to the bottom of Steve’s shirt, tugging it down your legs as far as you could, before awkwardly looking back up at them all.

A brunette woman, the same one from the night before, spun around and swatted at the three guys. “Okay, shows over. You can all fuck off now,” she said as she continued to swat them away. Two of the men jokingly flinching away like she was hitting them hard, but then they all turned and quickly walked off.

Once they were out of sight she turned back to you, with a sweet smile on her face, “Y/N, I’m Maria, it’s a pleasure to finally, actually, meet you.” She laughed and walked towards you with her hand extended out.

Maria. Right, the one Steve assigned to watch you.

You shook her hand, “It’s nice to meet you too,” you looked down at your clothes again—or the lack thereof, then glanced back up. “I do wish I’d been wearing pants for this moment though,” you laughed awkwardly.

“It’s okay, nothing I haven’t seen before,” she froze, eyes widening. “I don’t mean you, personally. I haven’t seen you like this before—“

You laughed loudly and waved a hand around to dismiss her concerns, “It’s okay, I totally know what you meant.”

She smiled, “Okay, good! And sorry about the guys, I swear they are all really good dudes, mostly, they just clearly don’t see half naked woman that often.”

Just as you were about to open your mouth to respond, you heard someone clear their throat behind Maria, and looked up to see Steve now standing in the archway, frozen, with Bucky and another man right behind him. What is this, a damn house party now? Of course you’d be the only one at said ‘party’ with no damn pants on. You groaned softly as Maria turned to see what you were looking at. Then she laughed wildly, “Okay, let’s go get you some pants before the whole house turns into a gawking mess.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing as you nodded your response. Not missing Steves eyes travelling the length of your body though, as he took in your near nakedness in front of him. Subtle, he was not. But you then noticed that Bucky, and the other man, had both done 180’s, and now had their backs to you. Clearly trying their hardest to not be apart of this whole awkward interaction. Or maybe they were just being respectful. Either way, you were glad for the less eyes on you.

Maria went to lead you out of the kitchen, which meant you would have to walk directly passed Steve, Bucky and the other man. Who had all now backed up into the hall to let you both by. The two still facing away from you. And Steve still very much staring at you, with something in his eye that made your heart flutter. Just a bit. And part of you was positive that, if there hadn’t been anyone else around, he would have pick you up, right there and then, thrown you over his shoulder, and carried your ass upstairs to show you just what he thought of you, half naked, in his shirt. The thought instantly sent a pleasant chill down your spin.

You slowly walked passed him into the hall, “morning,” you greeted with a smirk. Figuring to just own this whole awkward situation, as best you could at least.

He cleared his throat and you swore you saw a blush on his face as he spoke. “Morning,” he greeted back with an awkward head nod. You made a mental note that you could, in fact, fluster him in return. Vowing to use that intel at a later date. And fucking often.

You giggled to yourself as you continued on your way to your room. Knowing full well that his eyes were still on you, you could damn near feel them on your back. So you played up your walk a bit, wiggling your hips just a little as you went. Might as well give him something to look at—Well, ya know, besides you in just his shirt.

Once you got into the foyer, Maria picked up a few bags and followed you up the stairs to your room. You both entered it and she began to speak, “Steve asked me to go collect your clothes from your apartment this morning.” She put the bags down on the bed, “I hope you don’t mind that I did, it just isn’t safe for you to return home yet.”

You looked at her, “Ah, thank you. And it’s fine, I sort of needed them.” You laugh softly and then looked down at the bags, “So, when do you think I’ll be able to return home?” You asked.

“That I don’t know. You’d have to talk to Steve. But I’ll leave you to get changed, I’ll be down stairs in the kitchen when your finished,” she smiled.

But just as she went to turn away, “Maria wait,” you said. She stopped and turned back to you. “I just, I wanted to say thank you for last night.” You paused and played with the hem of Steve’s shirt again, “Ah, actually, I guess for more then just last night.” You finished and looked back up at her.

She shook her head, “No thank you’s necessary, it’s my job.”

“I know, but still, thank you. For everything,” you gestured around the room with both hands, before abruptly dropping them back to your side, when you realized the action lifted the shirt higher up your thighs.

A part of you had wanted to ask her what they did with the shit brick house, from last night. But another part of you didn’t really want, nor care, to know what they had done with him. What you did know for sure, was that you’d probably never see him again, and that’s all that mattered, really.

She smiled and gave you a quick nod then exited the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click. You opened the bags to look for an outfit to wear. Quickly throwing on a pair of black leggings, a white tank top and a light grey oversized sweater. Today was your second, and last, day off of work, and you were not down with tight clothes today. You just wanted to be comfy.

Now dressed your next mission was coffee, and stat. You headed back downstairs and to the kitchen once again. Finding Maria there making a pot of the glorious life juice.

“Oh, thank god,” you sighed happily as you went to sit on a bar stool. Hearing Maria chuckle over her shoulder at your excited reaction.

“I’m guessing you’re a coffee drinker?”

“More like a coffee addict,” you laughed.

She laughed with you, “Then you’ll fit right in here.”

Just as you were about to speak again, a loud group of men came wandering into the kitchen. You recognized Bucky first, along with his ‘back to you’ buddy from earlier. And then the guy from last night—the one that was helping Maria with your attacker. And then the three guys from earlier, that Mara shooed away.

Bucky came over and leaned his elbows on the counter in front of you, “Morning, doll, glad to see you found some pants,” he joked.

You burst out laughing then replied, “In my defence, I didn’t think anyone was home.”

“Suuuuuure,” he rolled his eyes, playfully, then smirked, “that’s what they all say.”

You froze, entirely, then looked down at your hands clasped together on the counter, as your brows furrowed together at his comment. ‘What they all say’? What was that supposed to mean? You’d be silly to think you were the first woman Steve had ever brought home. Durp. Of course there had been others. But at the same time, was that all you were to him, just another woman in the endless parade of women? Were you just working your way up to being another notch in his belt? If that was the case then you weren’t interested in that. At all. You refused to just be a random number in some man's life. Regardless of who that man was. Fuck no, not your thing.

“Good job, Barnes. You already managed to piss her off and it’s not even 10 am yet.”

Your eyes snapped up to look at the man now talking, the one from earlier that had his back to you along with Bucky. He slapped the aforementioned man upside the head as he walked passed him, and around the kitchen island to you, extending his hand out once he got close enough. “Hey, I’m Samuel. But my friends call me Sam.” And you instantly recognized the name, he was Steve’s other best friend, the one Nat had told you about.

“What friends?” Bucky scoffed as he looked around at the other guys.

That caused Sam to roll his eyes, “not you, that’s for sure,” he shot back.

You just laughed and reached out to shake his hand, “ah, hi, I’m Y/N.” you smiled, cheekily, “But my friends just call me Y/N.”

He laughed then looked over to Bucky, “I like this one.” Then he turned back to you again, “And I know your name, Y/N. I’ve heard lots about you,” he said with a wink. But they way he said it peaked your curiosity, what did he mean by ‘lots’?—“Let me introduce you to the guys, since someone,” he gives Bucky a pointed glare, “forgot to do that. So that fuckhead, as you already know, is Bucky. Just ignore him—that’s what the rest of us do.” He leaned in and whispered the last part.

Which caused Bucky to instantly feign offence, “I heard that! And that cuts deep, Wilson.”

He just rolled his eyes then pointed to the guy from last night, “That’s Vis.”

He smiled at you and you smiled back, “Thank you, for last night.”

He just nodded, “it was no bother, really, it’s my job.”

Then Sam pointed to one of the three guys from earlier, “That’s Clint.” Who waved and smiled broadly at you.

Then he pointed to the another, “That’s Bruce.” Who just nodded his head, with a shy smile.

Then he pointed to the final guy, “and the kid is Peter.” Who scoffed and mumbled, “I’m not a kid,” but then quickly gave you a giant smile and a fast ‘hello’.

You smiled at all of them then Maria piped up. “Alright guys, coffee's ready,” she glared and pointed at the men, “but remember your manners, guests first.”

A couple of the guys groaned and you giggled at that, as you got up off your chair, and went to go make a cup of coffee quickly, as to not make the guys wait any longer.

Once you had it made up, you went to sit back down to enjoy the freshly brewed cup of liquid heaven.

All the men then made their coffees and trickled out of the room, one by one. Leaving just you and Maria, after a few minutes. You took a careful sip of your coffee, then held it with both hands in front of you, smelling the sweet aroma of it as Maria joined you at the counter, sitting on a bar stool to your right.

“Is it always this crazy around here?” You asked.

“Yeah, for the most part,” she shrugged, “you get used to it. This place is sort of like a clubhouse. All of us spend our free time here, a few of us even live here.”

“Oh,” you turned to looked at her, “Other people live here besides Steve?”

“Yeah. Bucky has a room down the hall, by Steve’s office. Peggy stays in the suite above the garage. Sam, Clint and Peter have rooms upstairs. Bruce and myself have rooms downstairs. We’re like a giant family, and it’s safer if we all stay together.”

You gaped, wide eyed at her for a moment, “Jesus. How many rooms does this place have?”

“Ah,” she thought about it for a moment. “10,” she finally replied with a nod.

“Holy, this place is massive,” you whispered.

“Yeah,” She laughed, “and each bedroom has its own bathroom.”

You froze then burst out laughing, “Does every room actually have a bathroom?”

She looked confused and you quickly added, “I didn’t realize my room had one this morning, that is sort of why I ended up in the kitchen, without pants on.”

“Oh,” she dragged out the word then laughed again, “it all makes so much more sense now.”

Just then Steve came walking into the kitchen, phone pressed to his ear. He paused in the archway for a moment and smiled at you, then wandered over to the coffee maker and started to prepare a cup. You and Maria both just remained quiet, not wanting to interrupt his call. He would reply here and there with the odd, ‘Yup’ or ‘uh huh’. Clearly whoever he was talking to liked the sound of their own voice.

But then he abruptly spun around to look at you, and covered the phones mic with his hand, before pulling the phone away from his ear to whisper, “What size dress do you wear?”

You furrowed your brows then replied with your dress size. Being super confused as to why he was even asking. He took his hand away from the mic and returned the phone to his ear, then said your dress size into it before he turned, picked up his coffee, and left the room. With no explanation as to why he just told some rando your dress size.

Brows still furrowed you turned to look at Maria, mumbling, “The fuck?”

But all she did was shrug and chuckle as she continued to sip her coffee. You shook your head then did the same, both of you falling into an oddly comfortable silence.

After you both finished your coffees, Maria offered to show you around the place. Turns out it was way, way bigger than you’d originally thought. It had a putting green on the roof, for crying out loud. Plus multiple living rooms and dining rooms, a huge laundry room, the two previously stated kitchens, a pool out back, a bowling alley down stairs along with a games room, a movie theatre and a gym.

The only parts of the home you didn’t get to see were the other bedrooms, Steve’s office—though she showed you where it was—and the suite above the garage, where some woman named Peggy lived.

“Maria,” you asked as you made your way back up to the main floor, she hummed for you to continue, “Can I ask who Peggy is?”

“Of course, she was Sarah’s best friend. When Steve’s father died, Peg moved in to help Sarah raise Steve. She is sort of like a second mom to him.”

“I’m guessing Sarah was Steve’s actual mom?” You questioned, quietly.

“Yep, and she was a truly amazing woman. Like a second mom to all of us, she was the glue around here, kept us all together. Losing her hit all of us pretty hard.” She paused for a moment to clear her throat. You guessed speaking about Sarah was a soft spot, most likely for all of them. And made a mental note to not ask about her anymore, just in case. “But when she passed, Steve refused to let Peg move out. He was worried something might happen to her, and he wanted her to continue to live here. That way he knew she was safe, and could just live out her days, comfortably. You’ll probably get a chance to meet her soon.” You just nodded in response as you both neared the top of the stairs into the foyer.

Once you were both in the entryway, the front door opened and two woman walked in. One was older, slightly greying hair, wearing a pretty red dress. The other was younger, around your age, with blonde hair, wearing jeans and a loose white top—Oh, and a wicked resting bitch face. Which was currently directed entirely at you.

“Oh, Maria,” the younger one said in such a mock sweet voice, that even you could tell it was fake, but then she quickly changed her tone to a sneer, “Who’s your little friend.” As she looked you up and down then smiled, but you could tell it was also fake, disapproving even.

You looked at Maria who just rolled her eyes, which almost made you burst out laughing. “A guest of Steves,” she responded coolly.

The younger woman huffed then crossed her arms. Just as you saw her opened her mouth to speak, the older woman beat her to it. “Oh, you must be Y/N,” she said as she walked towards you, “It’s a pleasure to meet you dear, I’m Peggy,” she said warmly—which was a polar opposite response then the other woman’s.

She reached out her hand to shake yours. And you smiled politely back then shook her hand, “It’s nice to meet you as well, Peggy.”

“And this is Sharon, my niece,” She said as she turned to gesture to the still clearly irritated younger woman.

Before you could say anything more you heard footsteps coming down the hall, and you turned just as Steve came around the corner. He halted his steps instantly and looked at you, before his eyes flicked over your shoulder, to the other two woman standing behind you.

“Oh Stevie, there you are,” you heard Sharon purr as her footsteps came up behind you now. “We just had the pleasure of meeting your friend,” she said, and you could hear the disdain in her voice. And damn near feel the stab of her words, ‘your friend.’ They felt like what you assumed a knife in your back would feel like.

Steve sighed, “What are you doing here, Sharon?” The irritation in his voice wasn’t hard to miss.

“I came to see you, we have to prepare for the fundraiser gala tomorrow night,” she said as she reached out to touch his forearm. But he abruptly pulled it away and glared at her, making her freeze in place, “What’s wrong, Stevie?”

Just then Maria quietly excused herself then headed back downstairs. You narrowed your eyes at her, as if begging her to take you with, but she just smirked and shook her head, then disappeared down the stairs. Fucking traitor.

You pressed your lips into a thin line as you spun on your heel, quickly saying, “On that note.” Then beelined it up the stairs to your room. Wanting to get as far away from, whatever the fuck that was, as fast as you could. You reached your room and shut the door softly behind you, before moving the bags off your bed to the floor and flopping down on your stomach.

Who the fuck was that woman to him? And why the fuck did seeing her try to touch him piss you off so damn much? Hearing her talk to him like that? You groaned into the bed then rolled over, onto your back to stare up at the ceiling. Why the fuck am I even here?

Then your mind drifted back to what Bucky had said earlier. Were you just another potential notch? Did he have lots of woman in his life? Were you stupid to believe that he just wanted you, and only you? He is the King of New York for crying out loud. There’s no way he’d be happy with just one woman. With just you. He was ridiculously handsome after all, he probably had multiple girlfriends, ones that would most likely always be around—and fuck that. You weren’t down to be a damn sister-wife. You laughed bitterly. Why do you even fucking care so much? You shook your head then pulled out your phone, opening the text window with Wanda. Quickly typing, ‘Wan’s, where are you right now?’

Your phone pinged, ‘Just leaving my dads shop, you home?’

‘No, I’m gonna call yo— but just as you were typing out your message there was a knock on your door.

You froze for a second, contemplating if you should answer it or not, but then whoever it was knocked again, more urgently. You quickly backspaced your text and typed, ‘No, I’ll call you in a bit, kay?’ then hit send and dropped your phone onto the bed.

You huffed and pulled yourself up, hearing the phone ping again just as you reached the door. Opening it to see Steve standing on the other side, one hand rubbing the back of his neck, the other on his hip.

“Can I come in?” He asked softly, as his blue eyes locked with yours.

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

@hopefulmoonobject @harlequinash @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @tessvillegas @boxofteenageideas @wangdeasang @giggleberts @casuallydarktiger @theonelittleone @agentbadbitch @ratwrites @starrystellars @bandsandanimefreak @rockyroadthepastryarchy @lovvliies

[chromium-siren]

Lifeboat to Mars (Poe x Reader)-Part 1

(A/N: Sorry if the beginning’s shaky, I’ll probably edit it. Also, I’m changing up some things from my original idea so the plot makes sense later on.)

(TW: violence, mentions of death)

May 3, 2400- What seemed like an ordinary week began to spiral out of control. The day before, the sky was filled with strange satellites- only for everyone to find out that those weren’t ordinary satellites. Then while you were watching television, something odd came on the screen.

“Citizens of Earth!” a snakelike voice hissed, as a tall, gaunt thing with rows of sharp teeth appeared on the screen. The creature appeared to be a person, but with gray skin, an angular face, and soulless black eyes. “I am the Phalanx emperor. Unfortunately, our planet’s last emperor was a fool who drove everyone off our homeworld. And you planet... is the perfect spot to colonize. Surrender immediately! You are now all under control of the Phalanx!” the emperor hissed, laughing maniacally. And like that, the screen faded to static, the emperor’s laugh ringing in your ears. 

May 4, 2400- No one was entirely sure what was going to happen, but you and everyone else began watching the news religiously. President Organa now appeared on screen, regal as ever, as she calmly addressed the public. 

“Good evening, everyone. While the Phalanx situation continues to escalate, I have been working with the science officers behind the Kenobi-1 colony project. We are unsure if evacuation will be necessary, but if it does come to that, we want to advise everyone to get any essential possessions together if we do have to evacuate. Anyone who chooses to try and stop the Phalanx, we wish you the best of luck. We will try to keep everyone posted on any changes. Thank you, and try to stay safe, everyone.” You immediately began going through the house and deciding what would be essential or not. 

May 5, 2400- The news was hacked by the Phalanx emperor again. “We are getting closer and closer, people of Earth. The clock is ticking before we colonize.” 

May 7, 2400- After a fairly reasonable wait and a easy process, you were glad to find that you were going to be a passenger aboard the starship Fulminatrix. The Fulminatrix wasn’t just any old starship- it was designed and built by none other than Armitage Hux, an inventor whom many believed was the best in your corner of the galaxy. 

May 8, 2400- Phalanx ships were spotted in the Earth’s atmosphere. President Organa now sent out an announcement that voluntary evacuation would begin soon, and those who were to fight against the Phalanx began preparing to mobilize. 

May 9, 2400- The Phalanx had arrived on Earth. Although they didn’t have weaponry, they still went around frightening people and threatening them. You knew you had to get out of this place- if it was the last thing you’d ever do.

May 10, 2400- “This is an emergency message from President Organa,” anything that had a speaker blared, before a familiar voice was heard over the radio. 

“Everyone, I know this is a stressful time, but your lives are all in danger. Please proceed in a calm and orderly fashion to your local spaceports. Several expeditionary ships will be there to bring people to our Martian colony, Kenobi-1. While travelling, please stay safe and try not to interact with any Phalanx. Thank you, and godspeed, travelers.” You got out of the car and took your luggage, handing a military officer your ticket. 

“The Fulminatrix is over there,” they said, pointing you towards a stately vessel, handing the ticket, which was now stamped, back to you. You hurried aboard the ship, and accidentally bumped into someone wearing a pilot’s suit. 

“Hey, watch it!” the person said, and you found yourself facing a young man with curly brown hair. Also, he was incredibly handsome. But you felt weird as he looked at you up and down. 

“What’s your problem?” you said, getting on the defensive. 

“The ship’s gonna be leaving soon, you’ve gotta get to your cabin,” he said, escorting you to a luxurious cabin, complete with a plush bed. 

“Wait- I’m staying in this place? On a spaceship going to MARS?!” you said, shocked. “This is really impractical!” The pilot shushed you, and now you heard the sound of electronic chimes. A woman began to materialize in your room, and you quickly realized that she was a hologram- a pretty impressive one. 

“Welcome aboard the Fulminatrix. I am Phasma, the ship’s AI and your personal concierge. In light of the current situation, our ship will be transporting you safely to the Kenobi-1 colony on Mars. Arrival will be in a month, enough time for you to get situated aboard the ship. During lift-offs and landing, all staterooms will be pressurized. For your safety, wearing the pressure suits and helmets provided and staying seated during launch is mandatory. Thank you, and have a pleasant flight.” Phasma’s hologram bowed and then faded out of view. You then turned over to look at the guy- now he had a helmet on.

“Is that the pressure suit?” you asked.

“Yep,” he said, handing it to you. “Just slip it on over your clothes and put on the helmet.” You nodded and slipped the suit on, sliding the helmet on. He buckled himself into an armchair, and you eased yourself onto a chaise lounge that somehow had a seatbelt. Weird. Suddenly, Phasma’s voice was heard again.

“Attention passengers, we will be launching within a minute. Ensure that all possessions are secured.” A low rumble was heard and you felt the ground start to shake.

“You okay?” the guy asked, looking at you.

“Yeah. I’m (Y/N),” you blurted, holding on to the edge of the chaise.

“Well, (Y/N), my name’s Poe Dameron. Here we go,” he said, as the rumbling intensified. Suddenly, the ship began to move upwards, and the sky from your stateroom window grew darker and darker, until it was pitch black. You had your eyes on Poe, who was looking a bit nervous, yet somehow relaxed.

“You’re used to this?” you asked.

“Yeah, being a pilot’s in my blood. But I gotta admit, those eight and a half minutes are always nerve-wracking, y’know?” he said.

“Nerve-wracking?! This is literally my first time going into space!” you responded. You were about to give Poe a mouthful when those same chimes from earlier rang. Phasma had made her return, except she appeared dressed as an old time airplane stewardess, complete with pillbox hat and scarf.

“Hello again, passengers. We are now out of the Earth’s orbit and en route to the Kenobi-1 colony on Mars. For the convenience of all passengers, the entire ship and all locations have gravity and breathable air. At this moment, all of you are now free to move about your cabins and the Fulminatrix. Stewards will be coming to your staterooms to hand out special wristbands. These will serve as your room keys, and have a built-in concierge AI as well.” Phasma paused, and then smiled. “Looks like I’ll be around a lot of you for a while!” she said, laughing like an actual human.

“No, that’s not creepy at all,” Poe said, removing the helmet. As if on cue, a steward knocked on the door. Once you answered, he handed you and Poe two wristbands, which you both put on.

“Well, your staterooms have basic amenities but with a luxurious twist. The master bedroom has a king-sized bed, a full bathroom with luxe toiletries and towels, and a spacious bathtub. The adjoining room has a queen sized bed with premium linens. The living room has a couch with a pull-out bed, and there is a kitchenette and bathroom in your suite. And yes, the bedrooms do have televisions. If extra cots or beds for children are needed, please don’t hesitate to contact our stewards. While exploring the ship, you can activate me by speaking “concierge” or “Phasma” into the microphone. Well, that’s all I have to say. On behalf of myself and the crew of the Fulminatrix, we wish you a pleasant flight. This information can be viewed again at any time you wish by going to the first channel on the television. Thank you, and I hope to see you soon!” she chirruped, before fading out of view. You and Poe both looked at each other in shock.

“Well, that was interesting,” he said, looking down at the wristband. “Want to explore the ship?” You felt the weird sensation you and Poe had disappear, and a smile bloomed on your face.

“Sure.” He nodded towards the door, and opened it. You then looked out onto a sprawling atrium where stewards, people, and robots mingled together. “Whoa.”

“Okay then. Uh, Phasma, how many floors does this ship have?” Poe asked. Within a second, the holographic girl appeared. This time, she wore a blue jumpsuit, which made her look better than that cheesy flight attendant get-up.

“The Fulminatrix has fourteen floors in total. You are on the sixth,” she said, looking around. “Would you like a tour?” she asked. Well, now you’d thought you saw everything- an AI that actually interacted with you! You looked towards Poe and he nodded.

“What the hell? Let’s do it,” Poe said, as the two of you walked into the sprawling atrium, ready to explore.

[bitsandbobsandstuff]

A love that never leaves (2)

Summary: Sometimes when you go looking for the past, you find things you never expected. When an accident brings him face to face with something he never knew he lost, Bucky Barnes begins to understand an age old truth – it’s so easy, sometimes, to love the things that destroy us.

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: Bad language. Sad Bucky.

A/N: The plot thickens. Bucky recovers from a shit situation and learns more about the person who found him. Remembering is really hard and memories do not cooperate.

I’m planning to post a chapter a week, on either Saturday or Sunday. I tried to tag everyone who reached out, but if I missed you, it was unintentional, so please send me a DM or ASK, it’s easier for me to track. Otherwise you can find the new updates each weekend!

MASTERLIST ALTNL MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Previously...

The figure halts. A gloved hand reaches to pull back the hood of the white coat and a woman’s face appears. Even through the howling wind, Bucky hears her question clearly and he doesn’t understand why the two syllables feel like a knife ripping through skin and bone and thick sinew, straight to his heart.

“Soldier?”

She speaks hesitantly, her voice tinged with a peculiar hint of hope. Bucky wants to ruminate further, but his fingers are rubbing the slippery edges of his gunshot wounds and the snow around him is greedy, lusting for the hot blood he spills.

He wants to answer. He tries to answer, he really does.

Instead, he falls face first into the soft snow.

*****

MISSION REPORT

CONTACT MADE BUT RESPONDENT ELIMINATED. BASE DID NOT REVEAL INFORMATION REQUIRED TO PROCEED TO NEXT RENDEZVOUS POINT. HOLD AND WAIT.

WITHOUT ADDITIONAL SUPPORT MISSION FAILURE IS IMMINENT. REQUESTING BACK UP FOR – 

For what? The words evaporate. Smoke in the wind. The pencil clatters to the floor and rolls away and his notebook follows. He goes to his knees in front of the brick wall and he slams his fist against it again and again, until his knuckles are shredded. 

He screams.

****

Bucky’s entire body is on fire.

Burning hot, scorching him from the inside out. This can’t be right, he’s done. He’s supposed to be done with this shit, what are they doing now? Bleary eyes open and he tries to speak. To tell them no, to leave him alone, to please just fucking stop. Heat races through his veins, suffocating him and he feels rivers of sweat coursing down his face, down his chest, down his arms. 

Above him, floats a blurry face, both intensely familiar and completely foreign. She wipes a cold cloth over his face and Bucky sighs in relief. 

Darkness comes again.

*****

We’ll meet again…don’t know where…don’t know when…but I know we’ll meet again, some sunny day…

The melody flows like water inside his head and Bucky follows it slowly, swimming languidly into consciousness. When he breaks the surface, his brain comes to life, but his eyes stay closed.

It’s a trait he perfected over the years, waking up without anyone realizing. Back then, he’d quickly discovered if you’re flat on your back and don’t know where you are, your safest bet is certainly not to show them you’re awake. Once they know, you lose your advantage.

That’s usually when the pain starts.

Instead, he starts his internal assessment. Ears straining for any hint of sound, he waits, listening for anything. The intake of breath, a quiet sniffle, the whisper of fabric, a footfall. Anything. The silence stretches and he’s finally forced to conclude – either his captor is just that good, or he’s alone. 

Cracking an eye, he draws a soundless breath, taking stock of his surroundings.

This is – interesting.  

The room he’s in is dim, suffused with swaths of muted daylight streaming in through the massive window in front of the bed. His eyes track the expanse of clear glass, stretching from the floor, extending up the vaulted ceiling and ending in a wide skylight. A small fireplace is tucked into the corner, a basket of logs piled next to the dark slate tiles, and the soothing pop and crackle of wood lulls him toward a sense of false security. 

Snow still falls outside, but it’s no longer the wailing blizzard; instead, fat, wet flakes drift quietly by, piling onto the tall evergreens hugging the window. 

Feeling the silky sheen of satin against his skin, he peeks under the sheets to find himself nearly naked, wearing nothing more than a crisp white bandage and skin-tight boxers. 

“What the sweet fuck is this shit?” he mutters, dropping the sheets and struggling to sit up. The bed is wide and covered in all shades of blue – a dusty blue duvet, sky blue sheets, a midnight blue quilt – and suddenly it all mixes into a watery blur when his vision goes sideways. Pain rips through him and he flops back, whining softly. Pressing gently against the bandage, the pain flares so fast, he digs his heels into the bed, spine arching unconsciously. He can feel it, actually feel it, the tugging sensation of his skin knitting itself back together. Sweat instantly pours down his face.

“Don’t scream,” he hisses through gritted teeth, “don’t scream you fuckin’ baby, don’t.”

Clamping his lips together, he swallows the sounds he’d desperately love to howl, focusing on counting the snowflakes drifting past the window. He loses count of the deep, calming breaths he takes and long minutes later, the worst appears to pass. For now. Bucky’s rigid muscles begin to relax.

He appreciates the whole healing fast thing, he really does, but the process is just fucking unpleasant.

Swinging his legs over the bed, toes curling into a plush rug, he wobbles to his feet. Looking around, he searches for his clothes, but he comes up empty handed. He doesn’t actually mind the lack of clothing, it’s more the lack of pockets for weapons that irritate him.

But a good solider can make a weapon from anything, so he snatches a log from the basket next to the fireplace, rotates his arm until the plates shift smoothly, and creeps from the bedroom.  

Tiptoeing down the steps to the first level, he stops short. 

The small town he’d infiltrated was derelict, gritty, downtrodden.

The home he finds himself inhabiting is the polar opposite.

Wooden steps lead down into a cosy stone and log cabin. The small kitchen has an island with a couple hand-hewn stools and an oak butcher block in the middle, burnished copper pots hanging from a rack above. The floor is a deep russet red, the wide-planked floorboards containing a myriad of knots and whorls. Above him, thick beams stretch the expanse of the room, with dark iron lighting fixtures casting a rosy glow through the room. In the centre wall of the living room, flanked with tall vertical windows, stands a fireplace, the uneven shapes of grey river rock fitting together seamlessly. From the tall windows, he has a clear view of a foggy mountain range. Another fire crackles and pops merrily in the calm silence. 

A cracked white pitcher filled with pine boughs gives off a sharp, clean scent and Bucky finds himself struggling to remain overly vigilant, because it’s beautiful. It’s a home. 

Beauty means nothing though. A lesson he learned the hard way through the years.

Slinking into the kitchen, he rummages through the silverware, turning up three finely sharpened knives. Two, he tucks into the elastic band of his boxers, feeling instant relief at the feel of the blades hugging his hip. The third, a large butcher knife, he flips around and holds outward, ready to swing.

Switching into stealth mode, he goes to work.

Rifling through kitchen cupboards and drawers. Lifting throw pillows and blankets from the sofa. Scanning rows of books arranged in alphabetical order. Searching a small linen closet. Ears perked for the sound of footsteps outside.

And yeah, he finds a few things.

A few weird things.

It starts in the small closet. Buried under a pile of quilts, he finds a heavy metal box. Pulling a bobby pin from the perpetual tangle of colorful hair-ties he keeps around his wrist, it takes a few tries before he has the lock picked. Lifting the lid reveals a perfectly folded pile of worn t-shirts. Shaking each out, he scans the logos – emblazoned across each one is a different city from Bon Jovi’s 1986 Slippery When Wet European tour. 

They’re just old t-shirts, the kinds you find people hawking at concert venues or in the bargain bin at a thrift store. Nothing special or expensive. Yet here they are, folded into neat squares and tucked into a box that could probably withstand an explosion. 

His confusion spirals, but Bucky fights a small smile. It seems odd, but hey, he really likes Bon Jovi too. Maybe he would do the same.

Re-folding the tissue thin cloth, he locks the box and stuffs it back in place.

Trying the bookcase next, he pulls books out, feeling behind them. Knuckles rap at random, tap, tap, tap, until he hears an unexpected thunk. The hollow sound gives it away and with a shove, he shifts the back panel and finds another small locked box. Holding it under his arm, he fiddles with the bobby pin again and the lid cracks. Two items appear.

A crushed red velvet jewelry bag.

A handful of cheap vintage postcards in a clear plastic bag.

Crouching to the floor, he shakes the contents of the jewelry bag free. A handful of silvery-blue pebbles clatter out and in the middle of the pile, a necklace. Bucky holds the worn chain up to the light. Spinning slowly on the end is a round disc, a little dingy and rubbed smooth, but he can see the outline. 

Bucky wasn’t exactly a good little Catholic growing up, and yeah, religion wasn’t the sort of personal expression Hydra encouraged for the Soldier. His knowledge of saints was spotty as a kid and is extensively worse now, but he recognizes the medal – he knows Steve had one, wore it during the war and was wearing it when his plane went down. He donated it to the Smithsonian when he returned. Most of the military seemed to have one back then and Bucky assumes he had one as well, although he has no clue.

On the little medal, is the image of Saint Michael. The patron saint of Soldiers.

Fingering the medal pensively, he tries to summon a memory, any memory. He figures he must have something in there that could build off this particular war-related trinket.

But no. Just like always.

Setting it gently aside, he opens the clear bag instead. Pulling out the postcards, he lines them carefully up in front of him, internally translating the languages.

Covered with palm trees, an exuberant statement in French: Welcome to sunny Nice!

A colorful boulevard linked with green trees in Spanish stating: The Beauty of Barcelona 

A laughing cartoon caricature of a man holding skis in Swiss German: Enjoy your Winter in Zurich

The solemn announcement in Italian, written over an image of the Coliseum: Hello from Rome: The Eternal City

Orange and red leaves, covering a giant beer stein in German: Oktoberfest in Munich!

And the dogged mantra of the stoic English, tall white letters against a soft pink backdrop: Keep Calm and Carry On

But the one that piques his interest the most, is last in the pile. A hand-painted postcard, the paint chipped and faded through time, of the Brooklyn Bridge at night. The title above in carefully printed letters reads: Brooklyn, New York – Thank God It’s Not Jersey. Bucky feels his heart stutter at the words, because he’s pretty god damn sure he and Steve used to throw out that same phrase. 

On the back of the Brooklyn postcard, he finds the inked shapes of two hearts tangled together.

Bucky stares hard at the image, so simple but vibrating with some unknown meaning. Flipping through all the other cards, he finds them blank, nothing more than a pretty collection. Bewildered and careening toward frustrated anger, he gathers them together and slips them into the bag. He bangs the box shut and hides it away again.

He finds three more locked boxes in his search, each containing innocuous items. One with a thin, moth-eaten baby blanket. One with a random assortment of old Life magazines.

After stowing away the final box, housing an envelope with three sepia toned photos of a tall man and a small girl, he spends another ten minutes searching for clues. Finally, he’s convinced the room has shared all its secrets - until he notices the crease in the rug below the coffee table.

Shoving the table aside, Bucky flips up the rug. In the middle of the floor, he finds a plank of wood slightly thinner than the others, with a small chink in the edge. Crouching down, he runs his thumb around it and nudges it up, finding a hidden space below.

There he finds one more box. His beleaguered bobby pin gives a final brave attempt and with a quiet snick, the lock pops open. 

Inside are three dusty books. Peeling gold letters line the spine of each, showing a single word, followed by three different numbers. 

Journal, 1967 Journal, 1968 Journal, 1969 

From the pages of 1969, a ticket stub flutters to the floor.

*****

Under the fall of lacy snowflakes, she walks. Circling the small cabin for hours, her toes are damn near frozen, but she finds herself unwilling to go back inside. He has to be waking soon and the thought of facing him makes her chest ache. Instead, she walks the narrow path along the bank of the rushing stream bordering her home and argues with herself.

Go inside. Ask him. Talk to him. See if he remembers. Tell him the truth! He deserves to know. Maybe he doesn’t want to hear it. Maybe he’ll just kill you and be done. Probably not though, you’re not that lucky.

Hysterical laughter bubbles up and she digs the puffy gloved heels of her palms into her eyes. She really needs to get out more. This constant talking to herself thing will get her institutionalized someday.

But she literally has no one else to talk to. And that right there, has always been the problem. 

Brushing the snow from a giant boulder, she gingerly sits. Bending forward, she drops her head to her knees and wraps her arms around her legs, trying desperately not to give in to the panic attack threatening to drive its anxious fingers into her brain. Memories begin to swirl and even after all this time, the sound of his voice rises so easily to the surface, a sweet, drawling Brooklyn twang that turns her stomach to knots.

“Je vais avoir de la chance ce soir. Il y a de belles femmes en France qui ne m'aiment pas?”

“Can I walk you home?”

“Wait for me darlin’, okay? Will you? I’ll come back for you. I promise I will.”

“You’re what I want. You’re what I’m always gonna want.”

“You and me, this kind of love, it lasts forever, okay? It’s never gonna leave.”

“Dammit. Shit shit shit,” she chants to herself. Thick and heavy, the memories press down until she buckles under the burden of remembering. Tears begin to fall, hot trails down her face and she wipes them away, her hands shaking. 

She stays on the frozen rock, letting time pass while the cold seeps through her clothes. The air is so icy, it makes her lungs seize.

*****

The butcher knife lays beside him, within easy reach. Bucky sits cross-legged on the floor, flicking through the pages at random. He pauses now and then, digging deeper, losing himself in the faded ink of another’s life.

19 May, 1967

America is strange. I arrived in Los Angeles with no goal, just rented a car and drove. First to the coast and saw the ocean. It was different than the first time Papa took me – I’ve never seen anything so blue. I tried not to think about it, but it was in my head. It’s always there. Blue everywhere. The water, the sky, his eyes. I can never leave it behind.

The songs on the radio here, they’re different too. It feels like the heart of this country is screaming and I see why. Vietnam is different. This war, it’s unexplainable maybe, but there’s a frustrated weariness in the words. 

But then again, is it really that different? No matter the fight, Soldiers still give their lives and leave their sweethearts crying in the streets. They promise to come home, that ridiculously naive optimism of youth, and instead they die in a battle they never wanted to join. It’s the universal truth of every fight, since the beginning of time. The tears should be enough to stop this all from happening, but no. War keeps coming, one after another, and soldiers answer the call.

I still remember what he said that night. It’s stayed with me more than anything else. They’ll run out of soldiers eventually, he said, like he was nothing more than a cheap commodity. He was so tired by the end. I should have helped him.

11 April, 1968

Last week I was walking by the book stalls down at the Seine and saw a bargain bin of English language books. I found a book of poetry and I swear to god, that damn thing fell open on this:

He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one, Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun, Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood; For nothing now can ever come to any good. W.H. Auden

I don’t think I could find a better articulation of my mood. Either Fate has something against me, or I’m just that unlucky. I bought it. I couldn’t help myself.

21 July, 1969

Sometimes, I think miracles do still exist in this world.

Down at an old hotel, the entire town was crowded in the dining room. They had a TV balanced up on a shelf so everyone could see and they caught the BBC1 broadcast. The entire room was dead silent. It was overwhelming, I can still hardly imagine it. A man walking on the moon!

The whole time I kept thinking how much he would have loved this. How he would have laughed. How he probably would have tried to sign up to be a spaceman! The more I remembered, the more I thought about that night by the river, after we first met. All those stars in the sky. Decades later and I still wonder about it – how it’s possible to be so in love with someone – but then again, how could anyone fail to love him? He was so warm, so full of life and excitement and dreams. God. We had so many dreams, so many plans for the future. We were so naïve, thinking the world might owe us a little happiness. What a joke.

And now here I am. Alone with nothing but memories – just like always. That life we wanted, it’s as far away as the moon. Unreachable and impossible.

1 January, 1970 We never He was I thought A Soldier with a metal arm?

The journal ends there. 

Bucky looks at the ticket stub that fell from the delicate pages and the words bring forth a wavering reel of images, brand new and unfamiliar.

Moulin Rouge New Year’s Eve Ball Admittance: 1 Individual 31 December, 1969

The black lacquer of a piano. Silver sparkles reflecting from crystal chandeliers. The scent of fizzy champagne and the tang of blood and a dark apartment overlooking the twinkling lights of Paris.

Disoriented, Bucky sets the book down. What the hell is this? Who is she? She must be Hydra, she has to be. How else would she know the Soldier? Why did she take him, what does she want? Why does she have journals from so long ago, what do they mean?

It’s the eternal tragedy of his god damn life – always questions, never answers. He looks around the warm, peaceful little cabin and scrubs his hands down his face. He needs to plot his next move, but the bullet wounds throb with fresh, fiery pain and he’s suddenly and overwhelmingly exhausted.

So, he remains seated, surrounded by pages upon pages from someone else’s life.

Blinking back frustrated tears as he stares at the books, he knows without a doubt, that these three years of writing hold more memories than he could conjure in the lifetime he’s lived.

Distantly, he hears the slow crunch of boots on snow. Rousing himself from the miserable train of thought, he scrambles to his feet, turning to face the front door when footsteps hit the porch steps and begin to climb.

Bucky wipes the tears from his eyes. And he lifts his knife.

*****

Pacing back and forth across the small porch, she stops in front of the door and reaches for the handle.

And draws away again. Curses and keeps pacing. Tries again, pulls back.

“Open the door, you god damn coward,” she whispers harshly.

Squaring her shoulders, she turns the knob and pushes it open before she can lose her nerve. Stepping inside, the room is silent, just as she left it. Orange flames flicker in the fireplace, the smell of smoky wood and pine needles hangs in the air. She shuts the door quietly, shakes out her coat and hangs it on the rack. Taps the snow from her boots and unwinds her scarf. Rubbing her temples, she takes a deep breath and starts for the stairs, determined to face him.

She takes three steps, before the wind is knocked clean from her lungs.

The heavy body hits her from behind, one arm curling around her chest, the other pressing her butcher knife against her throat. The voice in her ear is so gut wrenchingly familiar, she nearly faints. 

“Leaving a strange man alone in your bed with access to knives – not your best move.”

When he was lying unconscious wrapped in her quilts, she thought he seemed smaller than she remembered. Now, the breadth of his body against her back makes her realize just how wrong that assessment was. 

“Yes. I should have hidden the knives,” she tries to speak. “Something to remember next time.”

“Tell me who the fuck you are.”

She should be terrified right now. The most prolific assassin of the 20th century has a razor-sharp blade sitting at her throat and a metal arm digging into her chest. With the slightest move, he could crush her lungs or slit her throat. He wouldn’t even have to try. 

She should be terrified, but she’s not. Because the years, the decades, have been nothing more than an empty echo without him, and now he’s here. Against all odds, he is here with her. Relaxing in his arms, she leans back and closes her eyes.

Bucky stiffens abruptly at the movement. 

Her hand floats up and reaches for the wrist flexing at her throat. She feels his grip tighten further, but for some reason, he allows her curious touch. Fingers trembling, they find the thin ridge, running down the long white scar curving from his right thumb across the back of his hand. 

It’s nothing more than a gentle caress, but – 

Like a hammer to his skull, his head splits head open. With a frightened snarl, he shoves her away and she stumbles forward, catching herself against the sofa. Slowly, she turns to face him fully. 

Dark hair frames his face in sweaty tangles and his blue eyes are wild. 

“What the fucking hell was that?” he hisses. The knife is held outward and he scratches at the scar, trying to scrub away her touch.

“I’m sorry,” she says, rubbing her throat. “I wasn’t – I’m sorry.”

“How the hell did I get here?” Bucky barks. “Last thing I remember, I was gut shot and bleeding out in a god damn blizzard.”

“I found you. Brought you here.”

“Yeah, obviously. Except I’m fuckin’ heavy and no offense, but you don’t look much like a super soldier. So, I’ll ask again - how the hell did I get here? Who else is working with you?”

“No one, it’s just me. And I’m not working. You – I don’t know, you just followed me. When you collapsed in the snow, I rolled you over and shouted your name, and your eyes just – they opened and you got to your feet.”

Bucky glares at her. “Convenient, that you knew my name. And how to wake me up.”

Jaw clenching, she glares back now. “I didn’t know how to wake you up. You were bleeding everywhere, but you stood there like you were waiting for something.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, he grimaces. He thinks he knows what’s coming.

“Say I believe you. Then what?”

“You asked for instructions, so I told you to get in my truck and I brought you here. I’m sorry, I didn’t know – I wasn’t sure what to do. When we got here, you wouldn’t go upstairs. You just laid down on the dining table and – ”

She pauses, but he sighs resignedly. “Keep going.”

“Both bullets, they were still – inside. I had to dig them out. I got bandages and tried to stitch up the wound. You were awake, I thought you were awake, the entire time. You were telling me what to do. Kept asking if – you kept asking if I was new.”

Bucky feels his face heat in embarrassment. Shifting uncomfortably, he grudgingly explains. “That was a secondary protocol. Something happens to the Asset, it’s programmed – I mean I was programmed - to help fix the problem.” 

The cabin is quiet for a drawn-out moment. 

“Oh,” she finally says. Her voice sounds small. 

“So? You’re former Hydra then?”

She blanches at the comment. “What? No! I was never with them.”

“Really,” Bucky says sarcastically. “You just happened upon me and knew my name and brought me to a cabin in the middle of nowhere for no reason? That was all just luck?”

“Stop being a jerk. I said I don’t work for them,” she snaps, anger seeping into her voice. “I’d slit my own throat first.”

Bucky goes quiet, considering the statement. His loses some of the hostility when he replies, but his tone is still suspicious. “But we know each other. You know him. Or – me. The Soldier.”

“Yes. I know the – Soldier.”

“Well, I don’t remember you,” Bucky says harshly, and he watches her face fall. He feels a pang of remorse at her disappointment and almost points out that she’s not unique, he never remembers. But he holds his tongue.

Eyes dropped to the floor, her shoulders sag. “I didn’t expect you would.”

An awkward silence fills the room. Bucky feels that strange ache in his chest once again, a desire to smooth the unhappiness from her face, and an apology tumbles from his lips. 

“I’m sorry I don’t remember. Trust me, it’s definitely not you.”

“No. Please don’t apologize,” she says quickly, looking up. She shakes her head like she wants to say something more; instead, she swallows the words and offers an olive branch. “Do you want to know? I mean - do you want me to tell you?” 

Bucky considers the offer. Before him stands a lovely woman. One who knew the Soldier, who met the worst incarnation of himself, but without the security of Hydra to help her. He comes to a swift, depressing conclusion.

Chances are, he did something shitty to her.

Does he want to know then? Does he really need another gruesome memory clogging up his brain? 

Sure. Because Bucky never knows when to quit.

“Yes,” he says firmly. “Tell me. I want to hear it.” 

“Okay, I can do that,” she says softly. She motions him to sit on the couch, but Bucky hesitates.

“Can I, uh, have some pants first?” He asks stiffly. “This is sort of awkward.”

The surprise on her face makes Bucky think for one fleeting moment that she might laugh. But then she nods and disappears through a small room off the kitchen. When she returns, she’s holding a neatly folded stack of fresh laundry and he recognizes the contents of his backpack. 

“Here,” she sets it cautiously on the dining table. “I’m sorry I went through your bag, I didn’t have any men’s clothing, so…anyway, I washed it all.” 

Bucky snatches his ragged Captain America t-shirt and black sweats from the top of the pile, shimmying into them. Pulling a rainbow colored band off his wrist, he ties his hair back and drops to the couch. 

She takes the armchair across from him, as far away as she can get in the small living room, and tucks her hands under her legs. Bucky knows he’s unlikely to enjoy whatever she has to say, but he folds his fingers together and waits. She stares down at her feet, appearing to gather her courage before meeting his grim stare head on.

Her voice is steady, as she starts to speak.

“Paris was cold that December and it snowed early. It was New Year’s Eve in 1969.”

*****

Next Chapter

*****

Tags are open right now, if you want one, please send me a DM or ASK.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Beneath an Aurora Sky (Ch. 5)

Summary: The South Pole Station is equipped for research and Edge has always made sure things run smoothly for the inhabitants. His charges are meant to follow his rules and regulations, and in turn, he makes sure they survive in the arctic temperatures. It takes plenty of hard work and determination and Edge, along with his crew, can handle both.

He wasn’t counting on one of the newest researchers. He wasn’t expecting Rus.

Tags: Spicyhoney, First Time, Arctic AU, Hurt/Comfort

Notes: So, @cheapbourbon came up with an amazing AU and did some lovely art for it: please look at it and love it.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Read Chapter Five on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

By the time Edge got the Sno-Cat secured and signed back in, the others were already gathered in the mess hall. All the researchers were buried into their laptops and tablets, conversing softly with each other and the fact that no one had discreetly asked for the WiFi password was encouraging for their survivalist skills.

Red and Undyne were sitting at the end of the table, squabbling over a game of cards, which meant everyone was here.

Everyone that was, except Rus.

Edge could only shake his head in exasperation; this was not a trend he liked. In their corner, Undyne was laughing at something Red said, pounding the table hard enough to send most of their cards flying and the silverware dancing, but her grin faded, flipping into a scowl when she caught sight of Edge standing there alone. “Where’s the fashion victim?” she demanded. “What the fuck, Boss, did you leave him out there to walk back? He couldn’t have been that bad!” A dozen pairs of interested eyes rose from laptops and notebooks to look at him, awaiting his reply. As if perhaps the answer was yes, and that his body would soon join the others, so take heed.

It really was endearing the way she enabled trust between them and their wards. “Of course not,” Edge growled. “I sent him inside close to ten minutes ago, hasn’t anyone—” The door to the kitchen swinging open cut him off and Rus came out through it, which answered some questions only to create more.

He was laughing and carrying bowls, and Bonnie was at his heels with serving platters of her own. Her chuffs of laughter had all three permanent residents staring in disbelief. She was never one to laugh so readily in front of Humans and they’d never seen her allow anyone to help her with serving. “good evening, everyone, i’ll be your waiter tonight,” Rus said, in perhaps the worst attempt at a snooty English accent possible. He set down his bowls, shaking out one of towels he used as a potholder and draping it primly over his arm. With a stiff bow, he looked down the little nodule over his nasal cavity at them. “everything is delicious, in case you’re wondering. i’ve taste-tested all of it personally, so none of you need to worry about poisonings or wily sabotage from wascally wabbits.” Even the Humans looked amused. Undyne was laughing outright and Red was snickering with some reluctance, his eye lights hidden again behind his sunglasses while he picked up cards from the floor. Bonnie returned with more bowls and hip-checked Rus out of her way. He stumbled back, laughing, “ah, it seems i am bowing to the expertise of our bonny chef! bunny chef? anyway, dig in, i’ll be right back, i almost have her talked into dessert!” He slipped in front of Bonnie, his hands flashing as he signed while walking backwards towards the kitchen. It was almost too fast for Edge to follow but from his pleading expression and Bonnie’s of bemused indulgence, Rus was being true to his word and begging for dessert. He suspected it was a battle already won. They disappeared back into the kitchen and the rest of them dug into the serving bowls, conversations paused in pursuit of delicious nourishment. “That shirt he’s wearing looks familiar,” Undyne murmured, depositing a generous dollop of roasted vegetables on her own plate, “did he pick it up off your floor?” Edge chewed his own mouthful more thoroughly than necessary, then said with marked gentleness, “The more you talk, the more I look forward to kicking your ass tonight.” “Oh, there’ll be some ass-kicking tonight.” She stretched and her shirt bulged visibly at the arms, seams straining. At least two of the Male humans and one of the Females were watching with great interest and Edge made a mental note to quietly inform them that Undyne was in a very committed relationship and likely would not take any invitations well. “Nice trick,” Edge leaned back in his chair, “but some of us don’t need fancy muscles to fight.” “or any muscles, really,” Red drawled. “dunno, boss, you might be out of practice. i got ten on undyne.” Before Edge could berate him for that disloyalty, a shy voice spoke up, “I’d put ten on the Boss.” It was one of the women he’d worked with earlier and her eyes behind her glasses were sparkling with amusement. That was…different. Most of the researchers kept to themselves, particularly after their safety training, hardly speaking to them past verifying equipment requests or occasional rude personal questions. To have them willingly join simple friendly conversation was unusual. Red’s grin widened and he tipped up his sunglasses. “oh, now we got some action going.” He scrabbled a pen and a grubby notebook out of his jacket pocket. “all right, who else wants in?” Edge could only watch in disbelief as the other scientists began to call out bets, wondering when he’d lost control of this situation. It did not escape his notice that the ones who’d done their ride along with Undyne today were wagering on her. Maybe he should pay closer attention to the recording logs. Even Undyne looked taken aback, but not for long. She watched as Red wrote gleefully in his notebook, the entire group of them bantering and arguing over bets. Too low for any of them to hear, she murmured, “Gonna lay down the law, Boss?” “No,” he said slowly. It had been a long time since he’d seen Red honestly excited and there was no real harm in it. “Let them lose their money.”

Her grin widened viciously. “He’s got you in a good mood, Boss, how did he end up in your shirt, exactly?” she crooned and ducked when he swiped at her. “Ah, ah, save it for the ring.” The ring, yes. By the time Rus returned, grinning triumphantly, plopping into a seat and digging into the depleted serving bowls without complaint, the betting was over, but that was fine. Edge did make sure to leave room for dessert.

~~*~~

Before the dishes could be scraped and cleared, Bonnie returned, both expected and unexpected, with a large tray of peach cobbler.

It was from canned peaches but still delicious, and she gave Rus the first portion before allowing anyone else to dig in.

He signed a flurry of thank you’s at her, only stopping when she cuffed him lightly on the back of the head. But she was smiling as she went back to the kitchen and the entire tray was scraped clean in minutes.

Undyne was the first by the door afterward, almost bouncing with eagerness. “C’mon, let’s go see the rec center! Bet you guys could use some relaxing after today. You’ll like the walkway, too, this way.”

There was a low murmur of agreement from most of them, although they were surely more eager to get their money’s worth on their bets than to try out the treadmills. Rus perked up as well, his face alive with interest, and he trailed a safe distance after Undyne, buffering potential noogies through several Human bodies.

Edge followed last, Red at his side, and he pointedly ignored his grinning fool of brother as he paged through his little notebook. It was harder to ignore the slim figure walking in front of him, dressed in his clothes, but he managed.

The main building and the Recreational Center were the only two connected with Alphys’s prototype umbilicus, thus far. It was short enough to force Edge and Undyne, and now Rus, to duck a little going through but it did allow them to traverse between buildings without have to completely gear up.

Her goal was to have all the buildings connected by next year, if this tested well in the cold and wind this season.

For now, it was holding up, as warm as the rest of the buildings and without the barrier of metal hardware blocking the view. Nothing but clear, glassy material and there were times in the past that Edge had discovered Undyne and Alphys sitting out here together, watching the darkened sky where the low outdoor temperature wouldn’t be unbearable for Alphys.

At least he hoped they’d only been sky watching; he’d never cared to investigate too closely.

The recreational facility was one of the larger buildings at the station. In one corner was exercise equipment including treadmills and weight benches. In another were a couple of comfortable sofas, and a video game machine that doubled as a blu-ray player. One wall was lined with plush recliners with full spectrum lights stationed above them, where their ‘guests’ could sit with their notes and laptops, working on their research while staving off the effects of living in minimal daylight. And in the furthest corner were the sparring mats. It was one of the few things Edge insisted on in his contract. He and Undyne needed to blow off steam from time to time, and sparring together was the best way to accomplish that. Neither Red nor Alphys were interested or equipped for it, and that was fine. He and Undyne managed with each other. After a brief tour, most of the others were milling around the room but their attention was not on the movie that was starting up. They were orbiting the mats, wandering close, then backing off, and the sense of anticipation was heavy in the air from all of them. Except one. Rus was with them, but his focus was on the movie, unaware of any stakes. By the wall, Edge stripped off his outer layers and folded them, kicking off his shoes and socks and leaving only his tank top and pants. He ignored the interested eyes he could feel on him. Humans were endlessly curious about Monsters and scientists doubly so. If they were as smart as they were supposed to be, they would keep their questions to themselves, and if they weren’t, Edge was well familiar with giving a curt reminder of manners. “I’ll try not to kick your ass too hard, Boss,” Undyne said cheerfully as she taped her hands. “You’ll need to be able to do some work tomorrow.” Speaking of manners. “You might want to watch your mouth,” Edge threw back. He stepped on the mat, bouncing lightly on his toes. “The less you speak, the less words you’ll have to eat later.” Undyne cackled. It had been far too long since they’d had the opportunity to let loose and never with stakes. She slipped in her mouth guard as Edge did the same, both of them tightening their sparring gloves. They circled each other slowly, familiar enough with the other to be wary. Edge didn’t have to wait long. Undyne lashed out viciously and Edge danced back. Her fist still passed close enough for Edge to feel the rush of air and he didn’t wait for her to try again. He struck, catching her square in the face and her head snapped back. Redness glowed in her eyes, a thin trickle of purple blood trailing from her nose, but Undyne only licked it away, grinning savagely. "Come on, you can do better than that.” “I can, but if I don’t leave you standing, I’ll have to take on your duty sheet tomorrow.”

They went around the mat and each other, trading blows and insults while the others crowded close to watch, and Red stood nearby taking last minute bets.

Undyne had a hell of a reach despite being shorter than him and she was damned strong on top of that. It was better to wear her out dodging than to keep blocking blows, and to stay out of arm’s length as much as possible. It worked for a while, until the one time he was too slow. Undyne caught him by the arm, twisting him off-balance and flinging him viciously into the wall. It was only poor luck that he hit the seam of the wall mat, catching more drywall than cushion. He felt a rib cracking, bit back his shout of pain as he went down to his knees. Distantly, he could hear a murmur of dismay from their watchers and Undyne was by him in an instant. "Fuck, I'm sorry, Boss," Undyne said remorsefully. She started to kneel down, and Edge took that moment to nail her square in the gut, knocking her on her ass.

She whuffed out from the force of the blow, then wheezed a laugh, pounding on the padded floor with a fist. "By the queen’s tits! That was a low blow, you dick!" "the rule is not hitting when your sparring partner is down,” Edge panted. He pressed a hand gingerly against his cracked rib, testing. “There's nothing that says the downed partner can't.” He didn’t mean to look away from her, hardly more than a glance, but his gaze snagged on Rus, standing at the outer part of the crowd. He looked a little shocked, his skull oddly pale, and Edge climbed unsteadily to his feet. "I'm fine,” he said, a little louder than he might normally. He was, or would be by tomorrow. His injuries were nothing like what Red was recovering from and the bones would only be a little tender for a day or two. A quick treatment from Alphys and he’d be fine. He tore his gaze away from Rus. He couldn’t allow any distractions or one of them was going to get really hurt. But Undyne noticed Rus watching, pushing her sweaty hair out of her face. "Wanna get in here, Rus?” she called. Her grin bordered on feral. “Don't worry, he'll be gentle on you." The others turned to look at him with varying expressions of interest, Red’s pen poised for changing odds.

Rus took an actual step back and something like fear crossed his face. To her credit, Undyne noticed her misstep immediately. "Aw, I'm just kiddin', fashion victim. Leave the fighting to us, we’re a good spectator sport.” Rus grinned, that false smirk of his and having seen his real smile, Edge hated it instantly. It was a painful contrast to his posture, hunched in with his arms crossed over his chest, almost as if he were bracing himself. "yeah, well, don’t kill him, undyne," Rus called back. "some of us need to borrow him yet tomorrow." Laughter ran through the group of Humans, even Red chuckling along. Edge didn’t laugh, even as Rus met his gaze, that false smile of his faltering.

His eye lights were too narrow, shrunken to pinpricks and from the way Red was frowning, he noticed it, too. No one else would understand what it meant, but they did. Rus was upset and Edge wasn’t sure why.

There was nothing to say, not now. Undyne leaned in with a smirk and murmured, too low for anyone else to hear her. "Hope he washes you before he gives you back." Edge scowled and shoved her roughly back while she laughed raucously. He tightening his hand guards and stepped back up, dropping into an aggressor’s stance. He didn't need to go see Alphys just yet and Undyne’s eyes took on a gleefully red cast at his silent challenge.

If she wanted to blow off steam, she was about to get her wish. In the end, they called it a draw but there were no complaints from the viewing gallery, not with the variety of matching bruises they were both sporting. Undyne was nursing a bloody nose and Edge couldn’t see properly out of one socket. Tomorrow they’d both be aching and snarling about it, but tonight he wasn’t going to have any trouble falling asleep.

It was with disbelieving wonder that Edge watched Undyne and Red chatting with the researchers afterward, Undyne even going so far as to allow the young woman who’d given her a look at dinner a squeeze of her bicep. He didn’t know what Red was writing in his little notebook while talking in hushed tones to two of the others and perhaps that was for the best. Edge was only interested in one of their charges, but Rus was already gone.

~~*~~

Read Chapter Six

[allimariexf]

Green Arrow Exposed

Rating: G 

Relationship: Oliver Queen/ Felicity Smoak Tags: Fluff/ Romance/Season 7/post-7x09 Summary: The Oliver Queen publicity tour gets an unscripted guest appearance

Notes: Read/comment/kudos on Ao3  ^_^ This is just pure self-indulgent fluff. I have no idea.   

Oliver settled in to the plush loveseat and looked out over a sea of faces in the studio audience. This was his third of several planned media appearances that Dinah had somehow convinced him were necessary in order to bolster public confidence in his ability to work with the SCPD.

Oliver had doubts as to whether the publicity was actually doing anyone any good, but he was willing to reserve judgment. The first appearance hadn’t been terrible; he’d been interviewed by a respected news anchor who’d asked concrete questions about his time as the Green Arrow and his plans going forward with the SCPD. The second appearance, however, had been on a local talk show, and the hosts had seemed more interested in hashing through some of his more embarrassing youthful exploits than discussing any of the good he’d done for the city since then. He’d managed to stop himself from walking off set in the middle of filming, but afterward he’d wanted nothing more than to find his way into Felicity’s arms and let her remind him of all the ways he’d changed since those days. Unfortunately, Felicity was in Central City assisting Team Flash with a case, so he’d gone home to wander forlornly through an empty, still half-unpacked apartment. He’d called her, just wanting to hear the sound of her voice, but apparently the case she was working on was pretty intense; she’d texted him back and he hadn’t had the heart to insist she call him back.

“Are you ready, Mr. Queen?”

Oliver glanced over at the tall woman leaning toward him with her elbows on her desk. Maria Banks, host of an entertainment and pop culture television show. Oliver sighed internally. It wasn’t that he had anything against Maria herself; it was just that he didn’t understand how entertainment television had anything to do with him. He had almost refused, but Dinah had gone on and on about the need for him to have a friendly, personable image - one that the public could trust, seeing as how his cheerful mayoral image had been completely undermined by the fact that he’d been boldly lying to the cameras the whole time about not being the Green Arrow. It was a good enough point that Oliver had agreed, at the time, to go on the show. But that was before he learned that the format of this particular show was entirely live Q&A.

His stomach swooped unpleasantly as he studied the faces in front of him, realizing that they were almost all women. And that every single one of them was staring at him intensely.

He turned his head and met Maria’s expectant gaze, giving her one of his practiced public smiles. “I’m ready.”

Oliver beamed at the cameras as Maria began her show. “My guest tonight needs no introduction; you know him as Oliver Queen, wayward son and heir, miraculously rescued castaway, former Mayor of Star City, and last but not least, the Green Arrow!”

Maria turned her head and stared at him in silent awe while the studio audience cheered loudly, as if listing his many identities had made her realize exactly who was sitting five feet away from her. For some reason, her discomfiture made Oliver feel a little more at ease. He smiled at her and bobbed his head pleasantly at the wildly screaming audience.

“Okay, Mr. Queen, as you might know, we are going to be taking questions from the phones and the internet, but to start off we’ll take questions right here from our live studio audience.” She gestured toward the line that had formed in front of a standing microphone. “Beginning now. Hello, what’s your name?”

The microphone was only about ten feet in front of Oliver, so he had no choice but the look the woman in the eyes as she spoke. “Hi, my name’s Andrea, and I just wanted to tell you, Oliver, that I think you’re a hero. You’ve done so much for this city and I love you.”

Oliver’s smile froze on his face as stared back at her, wondering if she expected him to reply. Thankfully, Maria knew how to do her job.

“I’m sure Mr. Queen appreciates that, Andrea. Do you have a question?”

“Oh, yes, um.” Her eyes remained fixed on Oliver. “Will you go out on a date with me?”

Oliver’s jaw dropped as he scoffed in disbelief. He waited for Maria to save him again, but after a moment of silence he realized he was on his own. “Um. Thank you, I do appreciate your support. But, uh,” he laughed uncomfortably, “I’m married.” He stopped talking, waiting while the woman stood there staring at him. “Happily.”

She was still standing there. “So that’s a no?”

A small disbelieving laugh escaped his lips before he could stop it. “Yeah. That’s a no.”

“Next question, please!”

“Hi. My name is Paige Duchamps, and what I want to know is: who takes care of the Green Arrow? You’ve been taking care of Star City for years, but who takes your poor, broken body and rubs it back to life?”

Oliver choked on his breath at her obvious sexual innuendo. He was acutely aware of the live cameras pointing at him, and the fact that his entire purpose for being here was to polish up his public image. Somewhere in the back of his head he was aware that being rude on live television would probably work against that goal. “I….” He just didn’t know where to begin, and his practiced charisma was utterly failing him.

The host once again stepped in to his rescue. “Ms. Duchamps, I believe Mr. Queen already mentioned that he has a wife, who I am sure is quite capable in that capacity. Thank you.”

The minutes wore on, and Oliver entertained several more audience questions that all followed a similar theme. Oliver had always tried to ignore the day-to-day shifts in public opinion of the Green Arrow, choosing instead to focus on the good that he was trying to do, though he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been discouraged whenever the city seemed to turn against him. Still, he had never been aware of the very particular type of support that was overwhelmingly present in that room: people (mostly, but not entirely, women) who assumed he was alone and lonely; mentally, emotionally, and physically neglected and in need of their personal help and love. And now, given the chance, they were absolutely jumping at the chance to offer it to him.

“You must have been so lonely all those years, hiding your identity, unable to confide in anyone. How did you get through it?”

“You’ve spent years risking your life, your peace, and your body, all while being hunted, villainized, and sent to prison! You deserve so much better than that. Is there any reward I can give you?

“You really just look like you need to be kissed, and I would love to be the one to do it. Would you kiss me?”

Oliver’s ability to remain pleasant and affable was eroding with every question. It wasn’t the repetitiveness of their questions that bothered him, though that was annoying. Neither was it the overtly sexual suggestiveness, which once might have boosted his ego but now just made him extremely uncomfortable. Rather, it was the fact that all of them blatantly disregarded Felicity’s existence, as if she weren’t important to him, as if she wasn’t capable of providing the love and support that they assumed he was starved for. It was taking all of his willpower to avoid setting the record straight on all the very important roles she played in his life, but he bit his tongue because he and Felicity hadn’t talked about whether or not she was comfortable with the public scrutiny that went along with being outed as a vigilante.

By the time Maria announced they were going to start taking questions from the phones, he was almost completely out of patience.

“Hi, you’re Live with Maria, did you have a question for Oliver Queen?”

“Hi Maria, yes, I do.” The voice that came through the speakers had Oliver sitting up in his seat immediately. “Mr. Queen, I’ve been listening to your answers and it seems to me like everyone’s been assuming you were working alone all those years as the Green Arrow, but I noticed that you haven’t come out and said whether or not that’s true. So would you care to clarify whether or not you were, in fact, working alone?”

Oliver took a deep breath, a smile spreading over his face as he spoke with confidence. “I was never alone.” He swept his gaze over the audience; the faces he saw seemed distinctly startled.

“Oh. Well that’s surprising. Are you saying you had a partner?”

Oliver sat back in his chair, warming to the line of questioning. “Not exactly. At first I sought out help only when I needed it.”

“Ah, so you employed consultants?”

Maria cut in. “I think we should probably move on to our next -”

Oliver waved her into silence, shaking his head and speaking directly to her. “Please, I’d like to answer these questions.” He continued speaking, changing his tone to address the woman on the phone. “At first I thought I could make do with consultants, part-time assistance, yes. But what I really needed was partners. People I could trust with my secrets and my life.”

“Hmm. That is very interesting. So how did you end up with these particular partners? Did you hold auditions or something?”

Oliver laughed, genuinely amused by her unconventional humor, like always. “No, it was completely by accident. I found myself in the company of a trustworthy person who also possessed unmatched tactical and combat skills. I could have searched for years and never found a more qualified brother-in-arms, but somehow he was there for me. Before I even realized I needed him.”

“It sounds like you two were a perfect team.”

Oliver paused, musing. “We worked well together, but I wouldn’t say we were a team until we met our other irreplaceable partner.”

“Ah, a third partner!” Her voice was intrigued. “And what necessary assets did he bring?”

Oliver glanced at Maria and then the audience. “She.” There was an audible gasp in the room.

“She…?” the woman drawled suggestively. “Okay. Why did you recruit her to your cause?”

Oliver rolled his eyes at her obvious implication, determined to make it absolutely clear that his female partner was, without a doubt, the single most valuable member of his team. “Well, at first I believed it was because of her intelligence. She’s brilliant, a genius. A technical prodigy.” He heard the ring of pride in his voice. It was the first time he’d ever publicly admitted to the existence of Overwatch, and he was surprised at how excited he was for people to learn about her.

“She sounds amazing.” Her voice sounded slightly wistful. If Oliver didn’t know better, he’d guess she sounded a little jealous.

He smiled. “You have no idea.”

The line was quiet for a moment, and Oliver closed his eyes, imagining what she must look like at that moment, a flush creeping up her neck. He made a mental note to spend more time telling Felicity how amazing she was.  When she spoke again, her tone was less playful, more tentative. “But if I’m hearing you correctly, it seems as though it wasn’t her technical prowess that made you recruit her to your team?”

Oliver sighed. “If I’m being completely honest, no. Not that her brilliance wasn’t an asset from the start, because it was. But her technical abilities were only part of what she brought. I quickly came to rely on her in a hundred small ways without even realizing I’d become so dependent, but it was still a long time later when I finally realized that even at the beginning, I was coming up with every possible excuse to seek her assistance, because I needed something else from her.”

“And what was that?”

“She...she had a way of putting things into perspective.” Oliver ran his eyes over the audience, absently noting their rapt expressions. “I would get so stuck in seeing a problem one way, and all I needed to do was hear her perspective, and suddenly everything would be different. She always had a way of making the most difficult problems seem simple.”

“So her intelligence, like you said.”

“Yes, but not only that. There was just something about her. She woke something up inside me whenever I saw her.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the line, but Oliver remained completely focused, waiting on her response. “Sounds like you were in love with her.”

Oliver closed his eyes, suddenly transported to the past, remembering the sense of clarity and awe he had felt when he finally let himself realize it. “I was in love with her. But I fought it for a very, very long time.”

She released a long breath, as if she had been holding it. “Why did you do that? You have a pretty well-known reputation. It’s not like the Oliver Queen we all know to show restraint where women are concerned.” The teasing tone was back in her voice, but Oliver refused to rise to her bait.

“She isn’t like other women.”

She snorted a laugh. “You didn’t think she would reject you, did you?”

Oliver smiled, remembering Felicity’s obvious admiration for his salmon ladder workouts, and the adorable accidental innuendos that used to slip so frequently from her lips. “No, it wasn’t that, it was...I wasn’t worthy of her, not like that.”

“Surely she didn’t believe that.” Her tone was flat.

Oliver took a deep breath, calm despite the fact that he was so publicly revealing feelings that had remained private for so long. Somehow, it felt right. If he was truly going to go public as the Green Arrow, people needed to understand that the Green Arrow was more than just one person; it was even more than the team made up of the three of them. At its core, it was this. It was the faith they had in each other. “No. She believed in me. She believed in who I could be. But I couldn’t admit that I loved her...not even to myself...until I believed in myself, too. And that was the most important thing she did for the Arrow, for me. She believed I could be better. And she made me want to be better. And she showed me how.”

The line was quiet for the space of several of Oliver’s elevated heartbeats as he waited for her response. “Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“So then what happened? Did you tell her how you felt?”

Oliver paused, feeling the tortured weight of a protracted year filled with almost-confessions, before dismissing it from his mind completely. “I did.”

She didn’t respond for a moment, and Oliver wondered if she was similarly caught up in heavy memories.

But then she stepped out onto the sound stage, emerging from a side door. Oliver’s breath caught in his throat and the studio audience collectively gasped as they put the pieces together. “Did she feel the same way?”

Oliver stayed in his seat, his eyes locked with hers. “She did.”

“And then what happened?” She started stalking toward him, still speaking on the phone, her projected voice slightly delayed like a natural echo. “It seems to me like maybe you should have married her.”

She stopped a few strides from him and he looked steadily back at her as she lowered the phone and disconnected the call. He stood up slowly and held his hand out as he crossed to her with a small smile on his face. “I did.”

He placed his hands on her shoulders and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I thought you were still in Central City.”

“I took an early flight. I was on my way home when I heard your voice on the radio.” She raised her eyes to find him looking at her in that private, adoring way of his. She smiled back for a long moment, both aware of and yet uncaring of their attentive audience.

Finally, Oliver turned, letting his hand slide from Felicity’s shoulder to interlace with her fingers. “Maria, I don’t believe you’ve met Felicity Smoak?”

The host stepped from behind her desk. “No, I haven’t. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Smoak!”

Felicity reached forward, shaking the host’s hand graciously. “Felicity Smoak Queen, actually.”

Maria stepped back, a slightly dazed expression on her face.

Oliver half-turned to face the audience, making it clear that his words were for them as much as they were for Felicity, the caller on the line who was no longer on the line. “So as I was saying, I was never alone as the Green Arrow, or the Arrow, or the Hood, or the vigilante. I had a partner who was there with me through it all.” He turned his head to meet Felicity’s eyes. “I could never have done any of it without her.”

Felicity smiled, returning his private gaze while pitching her voice for the audience’s benefit. “It’s true, there are a lot of criminals you never could have tracked down, a lot of buildings you couldn’t have entered, a lot of cases you couldn’t have solved, if there hadn’t been someone to lend,” she wiggled her fingers in front of her face, “technological assistance.”

Oliver tilted his head theatrically. “That, too.”

Felicity raised her eyebrow, playing along. “What else?”

“Well, you were always there for me to confide in.” He reached out and poked her shoulder with his index finger.

“Mmm.” She couldn’t stop the smile that was tugging at her lips.

He raked his eyes down her body, smiling suggestively. “And when I was wounded you always took care of my body.”

Felicity bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing out loud. “I have gotten really good at suturing. And applying bandages. And I did have that crash course in defibrillation, which is still one of my least favorite skills to put to use.”

Oliver was outright grinning at her. “At least your bedside manner has improved.”

“Hey! In my defense you used to be a terrible patient.” She cocked her head. “You’ve gotten a little better, I guess.”

Oliver gazed down at her warmly, letting the teasing tone drain out of his voice. “And of course your brilliance extends way beyond your technical genius. You’ve inspired some of my best plans, and come up with just as many on your own.”

“Hmm.” She reached up and laid a hand on his cheek. “We are a good team that way.”

“We’re a good team in all ways.”

“And we always have been.”

“Always.”

They let the moment stretch between them, private yet on full display, and after all it turned out to be not so different from anything else. They had always been able to be alone together in a crowded room, just as their way of being together had always attracted attention that they easily tuned out.

Eventually they let themselves acknowledge their audience, and Felicity quirked her lips, signalling that she had a plan. She pulled away from Oliver and stepped up to the microphone that was still set up from the Q&A.

“I have one more question. Is that all right?” She looked to the host for permission.

Maria looked surprised for a second, then gave a hasty nod.

Felicity looked directly at Oliver. “Hi. My name’s Felicity and I was wondering, will you kiss me?”

Oliver bit his bottom lip to stop himself from smiling. “Well, as I said earlier, I’m married.”

Felicity utterly failed at keeping a straight face as she whispered dramatically, “But I’m in love with you.”

Oliver’s face lit up with a rare huge smile. “Then it’s a good thing you’re my wife.”

Felicity crossed toward him and Oliver leaned down, deftly removing the microphone from his coat with one hand while cupping her neck with the other, pulling her mouth to his. After several soft kisses, he leaned back just enough so their noses brushed, keeping his eyes closed and enjoying the shared sense of intimacy despite the fact that they were being broadcast on live television. He felt the familiar puff of Felicity’s breath over his lips. After a moment he drew back slowly, opening his eyes and holding her gaze. “Was it as good as you hoped?”

“Better. Always better.”

Oliver turned to the television host. “Maria, we’re done here, right? I haven’t seen my wife in four days, and we have some catching up to do.”

[loki-in-hogwarts]

You can stand under my umbrella

Tom Holland x reader Warnings : none Words : 1.7K A/N : Just an idea I had while talking to @double-leo you can thank her 😂 Also have a little Tom Holland dancing Umbrella, even though we all saw it at ten times 😍

Being in a musical had always been your dream. When you heard about a Singing in the rain live performance tour, you jumped on the occasion. As you were doing the casting, you learnt that Tom Holland would be a part of it too and you freaked out : you needed that role. You've always admired Tom and his job. If you fell in love with him while he was Spider-man, you followed all his career and loved every single thing he did. Of course, when you heard that he wanted to take part to the final casting, you were a bit anxious. But you were selected to the finals, you eventually managed to get your part done and you performed in front of him. At the end, he joined you and sat next to you, on the bench outside of the room. "Y/n ? That's it ?", he asked with a devastating smile. You thought you were melting. "Y-yeah. That's me. I don't need to ask about your name, since you're actually famous. Like really famous.", you laughed awkwardly. You wanted to slap you. He laughed sincerely and replied : "Listen, I shouldn't be taking part of the castings and influence the juries, but, dear god, you were amazing ! I think you're on the right track to steal the show !" You blinded, not knowing what to answer. "Well, thank you. Wow I can't realize my idol just complimented my acting !" "I'm your idol ?", he questioned as he flushed lightly. "You bet you are ! Of course I started to know you on your first Spider-man, I'm a big Marvel fan, and I fell in love !", you answered with a radiant smile. I might fell in love too...

Tom was staring at you as if you were the most incredible thing he had ever saw. "I don't do this a lot but...would you like to get a coffee sometime ?", he asked as he was fixing every move you were doing. "Hum, yeah, yes, I would love that !" "Because you seem like an interesting person and I would love to get to know you better and, who knows, maybe become your friend ?", he continued. "That seems great, yes." "Yes ?" You nodded. "Yeah." You smiled, completely unable to keep up. "Well, I can give you my number and we can text." You gave him your phone and he registered his number. "All done !" He stood up and waved, keeping his eyes locked with yours until the very last moment.

After this, things escalated very fast. You learned that you had the part, and went with Tom to a coffee once or twice. On set, you got close of several other people of the cast, and spent some awesome time. Still, you were getting closer ans closer to Tom. You were known to be the troubkemakers of the tour. Everytime you had a trick to play on him and vice versa. Before you started to date, you were doing it normally, they were small pranks.

For example, once, you were on stage and you had to enter and exit the stage several times during the dance, each time coming in with a new item. You were used to find them exactly where you had left them, but this time, Tom had made sure they were in improbable places. For instance, already on stage, on a house of the scenery. Or hidden behind all the settings that had to be carried on stage. Or again, he handed it to a confused extra that was passing by. That's how you eventually ended up without the right items on stage, forced to improvise, while a teary Tom was hiding behind the curtains.

Still, you wouldn't let anyone affront unpunished. There was this one scene where you had to pretend to slap Tom. Pretend. When war was declared, you found yourself to be a little too strong on the slap, causing the director to be cheerful on much this scene seemed authentic. Oops.

They were countless other stories to tell. For instance the one of the mask, where Tom showed up on stage with a ridiculous mask because he had lost a bet against you and refused to be insulted of pussy. Or also that one time when your costume was filled with itching powder and you were on stage for five scenes in a row. Then again when Peter had to make a pig's noise each time someone said is character's name.

Things were getting out of control. As in, more out of control as they already were. You were constantly making the most unlikely bets and pranks. The cast didn't know what to do of you two, but you were so cute and so in love that they forgave you everything.

You were constantly asking Tom how were all the Avengers actors in real life and if he could arrange a meeting with them. He answered to your questions each time with a new anecdote that he hadn't told you before about the filming and the cast of Marvel.

One day, you were oddly calm and weren't planing a prank on each other. Your birthday was in least than a week and you wouldn't lie that you were excited about it. Just thinking about what crazy idea Tom would come up with made you smile. But you couldn't even imagine what he had planned for you. Seeing that he was strangely calm, you understood that something was going on, but every time you tried to speak about it, Tom would answer with a mischievous smile : "You'll see..." And then added : "Not to be pretentious but...you will be stunned !" All along the week Tom would tease you with small notes that you found everywhere on set and people would stare at you as if something incredible was going on. The tension was unsustainable and you were grateful to the sweet notes you found where Tom had written : "Have a nice day sweetheart ! #D-7" "You are so cute today ❤ #D-5", "You are the best #D-2", etc.

When it was finally The Day, you arrived on the set, ready to be surprised, but nothing had changed. The day even went on as any other with the difference that people were smiling to you and wishing you a happy birthday. Tom had offered you a small bat plush (because he knew how much you lived bats), and acted as if it was the only thing you would obtain today. But you knew better. In fact, when some of the cast invited you to join them to drink and Tom refused explaining that he wanted to relax a bit to his place, you knew there was something behind it. Not wanting to ruin the surprise, you accepted without asking questions and followed the group.

Once in the bar, you drank a bit and celebrated your birthday. Suddenly Lisa, that was supposed to drive you home, told you that she has forgotten her phone on set. She asked if it was okay to leave now and stop by the set to take her phone before bringing you home. You obviously told her that there was no problem and you headed to the set. Once there, you noticed that there were a lot more cars still parked than the usual. You pushed the door of the building and a music started. It was singing in the rain. Tom was standing on stage, doing the cchoreography he was used to. You turned to look at Lisa that was grinning like an idiot and found all the cast and crew behind you. You laughed, surprised and stared back Tom. While he was still lip syncing the song, he hid behind a setting and suddenly the music swapped to Umbrella of Rihanna. Tom appeared, disguised as the singer. You screamed. He started to show his best moves, just as in clip of the song. There were some of the crew dancers behind him, going with him. You were stunned, screaming and laughing. He came to you and did a strip tease on you before heading back to the stage. You were dead. Completely dead. The last part of the song was on and rain started to fall on him, as he was still dancing like crazy. On the last notes he did a back flip and fell on the ground, exhausted. You clapped your hands and screamed. You rushed on stage and he stood up, completely out of breath. "Wou-would you be mine y/n ?", he articulated hardly. You jumped on him and kissed him passionately, tasting these lips you've only dreamed about. "You are the best !", you exclaimed. He smiled and managed to add : "That's not it, open this." He gave you an envelope. Inside it you found a letter and tickets. Taking out the tickets you recognized the Disneyland Paris logo and yelled excited. "Oh my god, we are going to the Marvel event !" You kissed him again and again. "A lot of actors will be there, it will finally be your chance to meet them. Now read the letter." You opened it.

Dear y/n, I wanted to tell you this since day one. I am so in love with you. Ever since I laid my eyes on you, I knew you would be the best thing ever in my life. You are so kind, sweet, funny, beautiful, intelligent, crazy, amazing, perfectly imperfect ! I wouldn't imagine my life without you and I hope that I will never have to experience it ! I remember the day we met, you told me you had fallen in love with me since Spider-man, and even though you were saying this joking, I remember thinking "I might fall in love too", and here I am, madly in love with you. You are the best thing in my life, I love you so much, Tom.

PS : I hope I could bring you to Disneyland as my girlfriend ?

You held a small tear and kissed him again. "I love you too Thomas Stanley Holland."

Now that you were dating, the cast hoped that pranks and bets would calm down. How wrong they were. Things had just started.