#i audibly gasped when i saw my own song in a playlist. and then did it again when i saw amicus mentioned in the description.

[bryng]

oh okay. thanks

[aeferkssr]

MR TELEPHONE MAN - aether !

!! this was inspired by a tiktok i saw and omg i literally had a whole ephiphany when i remembered that i write fanfiction. like omg omg here i am writing for my skrunkly over a song that ive listened to on repeat for the pasrt week. this is an amazing day for the cianna nation guys. also cianna smau arc??? say it aint so!!!

⠀ 🧁⠀⠀࿀ 𓂃 .ˑ⠀⠀﹆⠀⠀˳⁺ 🫓⠀⠀⠀𓎫⠀

finally getting home from a tiring day at school, you flopped face first into your bed. school was never so tiring before, but the higher you get in your school the more tired you feel when getting home. right now, your only wish was to succumb to a quick slumber to rejuvinate a bit before starting homework.

just as you were about to fall asleep, much to your dismay, your phone started to buzz. groaning, you reach down into your pocket to fish out your phone.

opening your phone, it was a message from an unknown number

oh, it was him. you started to get a bit excited because you've had a teeny-tiny-not-so-teeny-tiny crush on him since your first year. a bit nervously, you replied

you heart skipped a bit when you read this. different thoughts rushed through your mind like "aww hes so cute omg" and "wait what if he has a crush on me???". but despite your thoughts, you deduced that he was just being nice

i mean he was nice to everyone, he probably has done this to everyone he has had a group project with, right?

your thoughts got inturrupted when you realized he had sent more than one message which made you giggle and try to comfort him

currently, you were laying down on your stomach with your elbows propping you up and holdling your phone. your feet has been swinging behind you to the rhythm of the song you were listening to.

conveniently, the song was a cheezy love song you had in your "my god im so lonely" playlist. the song plus the person you were talking to contributed to the huge grin on your face while you hummed along to its tune

you jaw fell at the text, which was quickly replaced with an even bigger smile and you rolling around in your bed. your phone was brought to your face and your feet kicked even faster as you borderline squealed from excitement.

after your little heart burst, you replied

if you thought that you were being overly expressive, imagine how aether was feeling at that moment. he did, infact, have the fattest crush on you and only texting you had him pacing back and forth andspinning in his chair with his knees to his chest.

he tried to make you feel better because of the fact that he really didnt like group work either.

both of you had realized what he said at the same time. resulting in both of you smooshing your head into the nearest pillow and screaming.

you were squealing over his choice of words. the word partner stuck out like a sore thumb to you. maybe he wanted you two to be partners? maybe he was just talking about class partners but either way the worsd sent you on cloud nine.

aether was just as estatic about his own choice of words. yes, he did want to be your partner but he didnt know about your unwavering attraction to him. so he could only hope that you took the word in the right context.

aether snapped out of this thoughts when he heard his phone buzz

a date? aether audibly gasped at this, flipping his phone over quickly onto the desk as he quickly sits back in his chair covering his reddened face with his hands.

the sudden impact with the chair has result in it flailing backwards along with him, snapping him out of la la land. he got up massaging the imact site on his head cursing through his teeth. his attention quickly switched back to his phone when it started to chime again

maybe hios fall smacked some courage into him, because his reply made you have to put your phone down and take a few laps around your house

you really didnt know hwo to respond to this at first but you had to. you didnt want to give him the impression that you didnt want to go on a date with him.

the both of you were driving eachother insane without the others knowledge.

[whatiwillsay]

t 2017 playlist analysis

Alright folks, whether you’re newly indoctrinated in the swiftgron faith, or have been here for a while, buckle up because boy is there crack coming your way.  It should be important to note that these are of course reaches and should be taken with a grain/pound of salt.  What you’re about to read is a lyrical analysis of a playlist made by Dianna on her private spotify, titled ‘t 2017.’  Therefore, the only real ‘evidence’ we have to make connections lies in the lyrics, and the general vibe of the playlist.

The following lyrical analyses stems from the idea that Taylor and Dianna may, and I strongly say may have hooked up, possibly around late 2016, or early 2017 (right when this playlist was made).  If you haven’t already, I highly suggest reading Cam’s Swiftgron timeline that she has meticulously and laboriously outlined for all of us, so you have more background knowledge on any reaches/connections made.  Also listen to her pod for extra serotonin cause I know you bitches want it.  Anyway, I digress– I’ll be pointing out only the songs/lyrics that I think are most relevant (and to make this post shorter, I apologize in advance) but I urge y’all to take a look at each songs’ lyrics to see for yourself, because some of these songs seem loud af.  Ok happy reading!

Genesis- Grimes

My heart, I never feel I never see I never know Oh, heart And then it falls And then I fall And then I know

This verse talks about the unpredictable nature of love, you never know when those feelings could come rushing in, and there could be days when you feel like you’re never going to love again– gives me cowboy like me vibes with that particular sentiment.

Home and I know Playing the deck above It’s always different I am the one in love

Ok I don’t think this one needs any explanation other than tis the damn season.

1998- Chet Faker

We used to be friends We used to be inner circle I don’t understand What have I become to you

This verse is giving me major the 1 vibes– “rosé flowing with your chosen family” kinda thing.  Relationships (yes, even hookups) are hard, especially when you go from knowing someone like the back of your hand, to a being a mere memory.  It’s even harder when you run in the same social circles and are bound to bump into each other.  What are you to do with all those unresolved emotions/lack of closure?  I just find this a bit funny because two years later at SNL, Dianna is actually considered Taylor’s ‘inner circle’ at the afterparty.  

Drops- Jungle

When you’re so high, you When you fall from the sky, you So come down from the clouds Come down on me

I’ve been loving you too long

I’ve been loving you too long

This song sort of encapsulates the feeling of love that is intoxicating, one might even say addicting.  In that sense, I’m getting major Style vibes, in that they keep coming back to each other because of that high and intoxicated love.  More than anything, this verse reminds me of Clean, and of course Dianna’s infamous tweet, “withdrawals…clearly we had fun” (see Cam’s swiftgron masterpost/timeline for receipts).

Ritual Union- Little Dragon

Straight off the bat, this song gives off major infidelity vibes (something Taylor has been obsessed with as evidenced by Evermore, and of course Babe which btw had a lot of social media signalling/shenanginas happening in 2017/2018).  Perhaps Winston was the cuck after all and we did get a swiftgron hookup? 

Ritual union’s got me in trouble again I was wonderin’ of a white dress And the mistress And a spirit holding my hand!

You do the math with that one– ivy anyone?

Daniel- Bat For Lashes

Daniel when I first saw you I knew that you had a flame in your heart And under our blue skies Marble movie skies I found a home in your eyes We’ll never be apart

I only have two words to explain this verse– Begin Again

But in a goodbye bed With my arms around your neck Into our love the tears crept Just catch in the eye of the storm

With this verse in particular, there’s this sense of a heartbreaking parting of ways in a relationship.  It feels eerily similar to This Love– “your kiss, my cheek, I watched you leave.”  There’s also a mention of a storm, and we all love a good old storm in the swiftgron universe (Clean, DBATC, CIWYW).

Can’t Do Without You- Caribou

I swear to god these are the only two lyrics

Can’t do without

I can’t do without you

Make of that what you will.

Touch- Shura

This was the song that had me fully convinced that swiftrgon might’ve hooked up again in the recent past.  It’s so fucking loud and I did audibly gasp when I read these lyrics.  I’m so tempted to post the entire song because honestly every lyric fits their narrative almost to a t, but I’ll try putting the loudest lyrics here.

There’s a love between us still But something’s changed and I don’t know why And all I wanna do is go home with you But I know I’m out of my mind

This love is good, this love is bad.  This slope is treacherous, I like it.  If the hookup did happen, it’s clear that it’s a bit hard to just pick up immediately from where you left off.  Of course there’s still a lot of love there, it just takes time for those years to melt away.

I wanna touch you but I’m too late I wanna touch you but there’s history I can’t believe that it’s been three years Now when I see you, it’s so bittersweet

Ok this is basically swiftgron’s story right here, I mean come on?!?

I’m running down a dream like Tom Petty, I’m a heartbreaker But then you changed up a relationship, I’m mostly bankrupt There’s a new kid on your block, I gotta hang tough

Cowboy like me anyone?

Yeah, the effect of touch hands is like a miracle How is it you’re halfway across the world when I’m still feeling you? Just a touch of my love, just a little bit Ain’t no love without trust, we gotta deal with this

Gives me treacherous and wonderland vibes– “I’ll do anything you say if you say it with your hands” and “you searched the world for something else to make you feel like what we had.”

iT- Christine and the Queens

I feel like this song gives off major Reputation vibes– controlling your narrative/ ridiculing what other people thought you were, etc. 

With it I become the death Dickinson feared With it I’m the red admiral on his ship And I raise with infants for my coronation I’ve ruled over my all my dead impersonations

‘Cause I’ve got it I’m a man now

Sunday Love- Bat For Lashes

This is a literal weekend hookup anthem (major tis the damn season vibes) and is also one of the other songs that convinced me of the swiftgron hookup.  Again, please look at all the lyrics and deduce for yourself and freak out like I did, but I’m putting the loudest lyrics down.

See her in blue eyes Numb and shining In the face of strangers In the city lights Where he’s climbing Cupid’s diving And I know that she’s come To spend the night

She is in my bedroom Now I can’t fight 

Blue eyed lady coming to your house to fuck you. Ok Dianna, real subtle with that. I’m joking but I snorted when I saw this lyric.

I see her in every place I go Sunday love is so cold Even though I’m falling apart I want Sunday love in my heart

You could call me babe for the weekend cause it’s the damn season.  Also “I see you everywhere the only thing we share is this small town.”

Sweet Talk- Jessie Ware

There’s never any doubts when i need you It’s just that you can always make me feel like I am slipping in way too deep And let the shadows hope to hide or break the dreaming, dreaming of us

The vibe of this song is that there’s someone who always pulls you in because they know exactly what to say.  They found wonderland and got lost in it. 

Dear To Me- Electric Guest

When it’s bad Feels like I don’t know which way I should go But over time I come back and remember The one thing that I know

You’re dear to me and I know 

I know I’ve tied so many songs to ttds, but I guess it’s all the more reason to claim that one for swiftgron nation?  This verse reminds me of  “the road not taken looks real good now, and it always leads to you and my hometown.”

Got It Bad- Leisure

This song was added much later to the playlist on Taylor’s birthday in 2019. All other songs were added early feb of 2017.  With this song, I don’t get much except cowboy like me vibes.

Got our different ways with the same old payout Had our own dreams with the same old outcome Had a bad extreme and the same old break down Worked it to the bone with the same old habit

Et voila, that’s the end! I know this was super long so thanks for sticking through.  Again please note that these reaches were made because we are a little biased through a swiftgron lens.  It’s very possible that Dianna simply likes these songs and put it on a playlist, but let’s be real, gays practically communicate through spotify.  This is not fact and not proof for anyone to hound Dianna or invade in her or Taylor’s personal life, this is just for swiftgron fun.  That said, I’m personally inclined to believe that something did happen between Taylor and Dianna in 2017 possibly.  That’s all I have to say, thanks!

submission⬆️⬆️⬆️

ANON THIS WAS AMAZING YOU JUST MADE MY MORNING!!!

you should make a gaylor blog if you don’t have one already we NEED more of this content!

[madasthesea]

A Far Green Country

Suggested listening: (x) (x)

“FRI, how’s the kid doing?” Tony asked when he had a moment to breathe between killing aliens.

“Peter’s heart-rate is high, Boss, and he hasn’t moved in almost a minute,” FRIDAY reported.

“Is he hurt?”

“Karen isn’t reporting any injuries.” Well, that was something, at least.

“Patch me into his baby monitor feed, just the audio,” Tony ordered, eyes still scanning the battlefield in front of him.

“You’re... you’re going to be ok,” Peter was assuring someone, his voice shaking. Tony’s heart plummeted.

“You’re pretty new at this, huh?” said a female voice. Her words were thick with pain. “I’m a nurse, Spidey. I know what a fatal wound looks like.”

“FRI, give me Karen’s analysis of her injuries,” Tony muttered. Instantly, a chart pulled up on Tony’s HUD, flashing red in all the areas she was hurt. There was a lot of red. A broken spine, broken collarbone, one leg pinned with rubble, and the worst part, a long splinter of wood piercing her abdomen, perforating her large intestine.

She was right. She was going to die.

“Hey, don’t say that,” Peter chided gently. He had the same diagnosis Tony did. “What’s your name?”

“Nicole,” she said. Tony dove toward a rogue alien, blasting it with both repulsors. Black Widow sprinted past him, a pack of the creatures chasing her; Tony twisted in midair and followed, picking them off one by one.

“Nice to meet you, Nicole. I’m Spi—I’m Peter.” Tony squeezed his eyes closed for a brief moment. Peter would never compromise his identity, not if he knew there was any chance of her getting out of this alive.

Nicole seemed to realize it, too, because she let out a small sob.  

“You-you have to tell my fiancé, ok? Jonathan. He, uh, he’s got brown hair and-and glasses, and you have to tell him.” Her voice broke.

Tony mechanically dodged an attack, blocked a hit meant for Sam. His mind was with Peter, in whatever devastated apartment he was crouched in with a dying woman.

“I will,” Peter vowed. He sniffled and Tony swallowed hard. He wanted to go and find Peter, pull him away from the scene so he didn’t have to see this. No one should have to watch someone die. But he couldn’t. Peter would never forgive him from depriving Nicole some comfort in her last moments.

“Give him this. He... won’t believe you otherwise.”

“This is the Evenstar. From Lord of the Rings.”

There were only a handful of aliens left. Tony landed by Steve, helped him with a small herd of them.

“Yeah, he got it for me at comic-con. Where we met,” Nicole said, chuckling breathlessly, only to cut off in a small cough. “So, Spider-Man’s a nerd?”

“The biggest,” Peter assured her, and Tony could picture the reassuring smile he would be giving under his mask, the way his eyes would be filled with tears.

“Good. Te-tell him that I’m going to a far, green country.”

Peter sobbed. “Ok. Ok.”

“You crying for me?”

“Yeah,” Peter said, unashamed.

There was a small moment of quiet, where she seemed to comprehend the importance of a superhero, kneeling at her side, crying for her loss. “Thanks, Peter,” Nicole whispered.

Peter hiccuped again.

“Don’t you have some aliens to be fighting?” she asked.

Tony had to stop himself from cutting in, from telling Peter that they were done, that Clint and Sam were taking care of the last couple right now. That Peter shouldn’t leave her.

“I can stay. It’s alright,” Peter assured her. Because he never would have left. Not when someone needed him.

Nicole whimpered, her tears audible through Peter’s comm. “Thanks, Spidey.”

Tony listened as her breathing quickly got worse, as she started gasping in pain. Peter gently shushed her, reminding her that he was there.

“Squeeze my hand as hard as you need, ok? It won’t hurt me.”

There was the sound of wet coughing, interspersed with pain-filled cries.

“Hey, Karen,” Peter said quietly. “Play “A Far, Green Country” from my study playlist.”

“Of course, Peter,” Karen replied sympathetically.

Soft cello music began to filter through Tony’s earpiece. He stood still, watching in a detached sort of way as ambulances and firetrucks started arriving to the scene of the battle, as people began to peek out of their hiding places.

“Hear that, Nicole?” Peter asked. “Just focus on the music, ok? It’ll be ok.”

“I love... this one,” Nicole murmured.

The music crescendoed. Her ragged breaths slowed.

She was dead by the end of the song.

Tony listened, jaw clenched, his own eyes surprisingly damp as Peter started sobbing, the sound muffled like he was covering his mouth.

He went on to the team channel.

“Can you guys handle clean-up? I need to get Spidey out of here,” Tony said, his own voice soft in the aftermath of what he heard.

“Is he hurt?” Steve asked quickly.

“No. No, just... it’s his first big battle. He’s in shock.”

There was a moment of silent understanding. They’d all gone through the same thing the first time they had fought in battles that were more destruction than preservation, more dying than saving.

“Make sure he eats something,” Nat said over the line, and that’s all the confirmation Tony needed. He switched to a two-way comm.

“Hey, Pete,” he said softly. He heard sniffing, the sound of Peter wiping his tears away.

“Mr. Stark. Sorry, where do you need me? I can be-“

“Stand down, kid. Fight’s over.” He couldn’t make himself talk above a murmur, like speaking any louder would be the final straw before Peter lost it completely. “We’re getting out of here. Where are you?”

Peter rattled of a quick address, but then hesitated. “I... I’ll meet you in a few minutes, ok? There’s something I have to do.”

Tony flew over to where he was anyway. He stood in the shadow of fire engine, watching as Spider-Man crawled down the side of a partially destroyed building. There was a crowd of onlookers standing behind a police cordon, their faces pale and scared.

Peter walked over to them. There was a man with brown hair and glasses in the second row of people. Tony almost wanted to look away.

Instead, he watched. He watched as Peter carefully led him a few feet away, as he held out the necklace Nicole gave him and delivered her message. He watched as the man’s face crumpled, as tears spilled over, and finally, as his knees gave out.

Peter caught him. Lowered him to the ground and held on, hugging him on his knees, his own shoulders shaking with sobs.

Watching him, Tony felt his heart clench in nearly physical pain. It hurt to see the man mourning his lost fiancée, but for some reason, Peter’s grief affected him more. He wanted to go over and comfort him, wipe his tears away. The need to make Peter feel better was so strong he almost couldn’t stop himself from flying over that second.

He knew he needed to let Peter have this moment, this first step toward acceptance, this chance to be his own person for a moment, to let the world see the same kindness and compassion and heart that Tony saw in Peter every single day.

He just wished it didn’t come at the cost of Peter’s innocence. He just wanted Peter to be happy. More than anything in the world, he wanted Peter to be happy.

Oh, Tony thought as that realization sunk down into the pit of his stomach and took root.

I love him.

A few other onlookers had come forward and taken Jonathan by the arms, assuring Spider-Man that they would take care of him.

Pressing pause on his epiphany, Tony stepped out of the shadows. Peter turned to him like a child looking for his parent in a crowd.

“Hey, bud,” Tony said. “Ready?”

Peter nodded, his breath still catching. Tony picked him up, making sure Peter was secure, before carefully taking off.

When they got to the tower, Peter waited until Tony set him down gently on his own feet, then walked forward without speaking, his shoulders slumped and head bowed.

Tony stepped out of the suit and followed, watching carefully. Peter sunk down into the nearest chair, a stool at the breakfast bar. His hands scrabbled weakly at his mask, unable to find the seam. Tony came closer and stilled Peter’s hands with his own, then tugged the mask off with one hand. He set it on the counter, then smoothed out Peter’s wild curls.

Peter’s face was pale, the redness around his eyes stark against his dark irises. He trapped his hands between his knees to try to hide the shaking, but Tony had already spotted it.

“Nat made me promise to feed you,” Tony said, his voice loud in the quiet of the penthouse. “What’re thinking, kid? I can do boxed mac and cheese, frozen chicken nuggets, or good old PB&J. Or all three, if you’re a masochist.”

Peter carefully didn’t look at Tony, probably trying to keep him from noticing his red eyes.

“I—” His voice was hoarse. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I’m not really hungry.”  

“Not an option, kiddo. Sorry. How about I get you some juice to get that blood sugar up while I get cooking, alright?”

Tony rounded the island, busying himself with getting Peter some of the cranberry apple juice he liked so much, turning the oven on to start preheating. The kid needed some protein to make up for all the calories he burned fighting.

When he looked over his shoulder again, Peter was sitting with his head on his folded arms, his face hidden. Tony’s heart plummeted. He could still hear the echo of those muffled sobs, the sounds of a kid who thought he was too old, too strong to be crying, but who was too heartbroken not to.

Tony would never judge the kid for crying. He knew Peter was strong, he knew it possibly better than Peter himself. He also knew how overwhelming and horrifying your first battle, your first loss, could be. He hated that Peter felt the need to hide his emotions, his incredibly empathetic and tender nature from Tony.

Standing on the opposite side of the counter, he reached out and ran his fingers through Peter’s hair. Peter’s breath hitched just a little, and he slowly raised his head until he could look at Tony through the fringe of his lashes.

Tony seized the opportunity and slid his hand down to Peter’s chin, raising his head further. There were no fresh tears on Peter’s face, so maybe he hadn’t been crying after all. He still looked devastated and wrung-out.

He didn’t know what to say in the face of such innocent, honest grief that wouldn’t sound cheap and patronizing.

“I... I’m really, really proud of you, Pete,” he finally murmured.

There was a flash in Peter’s eyes, a single heartbeat where he thought Tony was mocking him. Then he slumped, his jaw pressing further into Tony’s hand.

“Mr. Stark, I... there was this woman,” Peter said, his voice gravelly. “I was trying to clear an apartment building and I found her and, and she was hurt really bad. And I didn’t want to leave her but I knew you guys needed me—” Peter’s eyes flit to one side, as if too ashamed to look at Tony, “—and I didn’t know what to do so I... I stayed. And I held her hand. Instead of coming to help you. You could have gotten hurt and it would have been my fault, but I just kept thinking if it had been me I wouldn’t want to be alone and she-she died, Mr. Stark,” Peter hiccupped. His eyes were full of tears again, and suddenly Tony could picture it so clearly, Peter kneeling by a stranger’s side and crying even while he comforted her. While he played music to distract her from the agony and fear.

“Oh, Peter,” Tony sighed. He came around the counter and pulled Peter in by the shoulders. Peter buried his face against Tony’s sternum, sniffling.

“Firstly, it’s not your job to look after all of us, ok? That’s why there’s a team of us, so we all can keep an eye on each and no one has to shoulder all of it. We were all ok, we were looking out for one another. Sometimes you get busy and can’t help for a bit, that’s fine. And you did a great job today, buddy, you really did.”

Peter’s fingers tentatively grasped Tony’s t-shirt and his heart constricted.

“Secondly—” Tony once again raised Peter’s face to meet his eyes. The kid looked desperate, fervently listening to any shred of wisdom Tony might bestow on him. “You never, ever have to apologize for being compassionate. That’s something you can’t learn, kid. You either have it or you don’t, and you have it. I wish I was as empathetic as you.”

Peter looked up at him, half hope and half doubt, and something in Tony’s chest settled.

How had it taken this long for Tony to realize that he loved him?

When Tony reached up and squeezed the back of Peter’s neck, his touch was gentler than it had ever been before.

“Why don’t you go take a shower before the rest of the circus troupe come and screw up the water pressure?” Tony suggested.

Peter nodded, swallowing. Tony kept a hand on his elbow as he hopped off the stool, just to make sure he was steady. Then he watched as Peter slouched off to his room, the Spider-Man mask drooping dejectedly in his hand.

His mind buzzing, Tony carefully spread the chicken out on a pan and put it in the oven, making sure to put on a timer. Then he slumped in the chair Peter had just abandoned and thought.

He had never been great about recognizing his own emotions. It had taken Afghanistan for him to realize that Rhodey and Happy were his family, that Pepper was much, much more than his assistant that he liked to flirt with. He’d kept them at a distance on purpose, too self-absorbed and miserable to let himself have that small piece of happiness.

Maybe for the kid’s own good, Tony should have done the same thing with Peter, but he couldn’t seem to make himself. Because Peter... Tony liked everything about Peter. His optimism, his enthusiasm, his uncompromising morals. He liked the way the kid got lost in his work, the way he fell asleep during movies, the way he talked a mile a minute to his AI when he was nervous. He liked the way Peter made him act—the responsibility and softness and sometimes silliness that the kid brought out in him.

He tried to think back, to a time before he loved Peter and found he just... couldn’t. Obviously there was one, but now every memory was so colored with fondness and bone-deep admiration that he couldn’t find a before and after. Every time Peter was there in his memories, there was love. The two words were almost synonymous. Now that Tony had connected them, they couldn’t be separated.

He felt the same palpable adoration when he thought about Pepper, but where Pepper was a fire, burning constant and steady and familiar in his sternum, Peter was an eternal sunrise. Bringing the promise of light, of warmth, of a new beginning. Infinite possibilities about to unfold and Tony loved every one of them; he loved the Peter that had just been sitting in front of him, sweat curled hair and fidgeting hands, and he loved every version of Peter that would come—the exhausted college student, the nervous new father, the CEO or inventor or doctor.

Now that he recognized the feeling in his chest that he got whenever he so much as thought of the kid, he felt full to bursting with it. It was a surprisingly good feeling.

Peter walked back into the room, his hair curling and damp. He looked a little less worn out, a little more like his usual self. He’d just need time, Tony knew, to recover. He never stayed down for long.

Tony found himself smiling as he watched Peter comb his fingers through his hair. The room seemed brighter with Peter in it.

Gosh, he was a sap.

“Perfect timing, kiddo,” Tony said as the timer started beeping. He got up and pulled the chicken nuggets out of the oven, serving them up onto a plate. “Ketchup, right?”

“And mayo,” Peter reminded.

“Ugh, that’s right.” Tony pulled the condiments out of the fridge, wrinkling his nose.

“It’s the best way to eat them, Mr. Stark,” Peter insisted as he busied himself mixing the two on his plate until there was a puddle of pink sauce next to his mound of chicken nuggets.

“So you say,” Tony said as he sat down next to the kid. He was happy to watch Peter eat, pleased that Peter seemed to perk up as he did.

After a moment, Peter pushed the plate toward Tony, silently offering. Tony stared at the food for a moment. He couldn’t remember the last time he had something as childish as chicken nuggets, especially the cheap frozen brand that Tony had seen in May’s freezer a couple months ago and purchased in an attempt to stock up on “Peter food.”

Peter was watching him, amused. Finally, Tony shrugged and picked one off the plate. Peter’s barely noticeable smile grew a little bit, and he rotated the plate so that his ketchup-mayonnaise monstrosity was closer to Tony.

“Ugh, fine,” Tony groaned. He dipped the chicken into the sauce and popped it into his mouth, just so that Peter would stop saying “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, Mr. Stark,” all the time.

It was, actually, really good. Dang it.

“Well?” Peter asked, feigning innocence.

“Yeah, alright, fine,” Tony conceded, rolling his eyes.

Peter beamed at him.

Tony loved that, too.

[wxlfstxrx]

My Love (Chapter Two)

I gotta admit, I don't really speak French, so thank you to @slytherinqween for helping me out with translations!! I was so nervous to write this, but I hope you guys like it. Special thanks to @gaeilgelupin and @lumxsmywxrld​ for dealing with my anxious ramblings about this fic the past few days <3 and of course @lumosinlove​ for answering questions I had!! :)

Song in this chapter is Mystery of Love by Sufjan Stevens. Sorry, the actual song that inspired this fic will only come in the next chapter HAHAHA.

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

“Uhh, Harz, are you alright?”

Finn turned his head and found a pair of concerned baby blue eyes staring at him from around the corner of the entryway. He swallowed once, twice, and not trusting his own voice, he shook his head. He turned back and thumped his head against the door again before flipping over and sliding down onto the cold floor. 

Leo’s shadow loomed over him as he approached, crouching before him in a perfect Asian squat that would’ve been comical had he not felt so utterly torn apart at that moment.

“You wanna talk about it?” Leo tried to keep his tone light, but the slight waver in his voice at the sight of his flatmate betrayed him.

“No, yes, I don’t know,” Finn choked out. “I’m sorry, you should go eat if you’re hungry, yeah?”

“Ahh, you know I was just teasing you about the book thing, hmm?” Leo ducked his head to try to get Finn to look at him but he was staring at his hands, which he was wringing together desperately. Anything to distract him, to prevent himself from crumbling completely. 

He nodded, biting his lip hard to stop himself from making a sound as the tears slipped down his cheeks. He pulled his knees up to his chest and folded his arms on top of them, burying his face in the crook of his elbow. He was shivering, whether from the cold or the overwhelming emotions he couldn’t tell, but he curled up tighter into himself as he finally gave in to his emotions. He burst into heaving sobs, the pain in his chest agonising as he thought of the boy he loved walking out of the door just minutes ago.

“Mon dieu,” Leo exhaled shakily as he watched Finn break apart, his heart squeezing tightly. He let his knees fall on the ground, ignoring the coldness of the marbled tiles as he placed his hand on Finn’s arm hesitantly. “C’mere, Harz, c’mere.”

He gently pried Finn’s hands away from himself, and pulled him up slightly so he was sitting on his heels, knees between Leo’s, and wrapped his arms around the still crying boy. Finn barely registered the light threading of fingers through his hair, pushing his curls away from his forehead, and the hand that was soothingly rubbing circles on his back as he buried his face in Leo’s soft cotton tee.

“Je suis là, hmm Harz? Cry it out, it’s okay,” Leo whispered into Finn’s ear as he held him tighter. “Je suis là, I’ve got you.”

******

Finn wasn’t sure how much time had passed before his knees started hurting, and he resigned himself to standing up, tugging Leo up with him. His legs were wobbly and he just stood there for a moment, clutching onto Leo’s arms. 

Wordlessly, he broke apart and nodded his head towards the bathroom, not waiting for a response as he shuffled out of the freezing entryway, sniffling. As he shut the door with a click, he heard Leo moving towards the kitchen to heat up their already cold dinner. 

He braced his hands on the edge of the sink, looking at his quickly bruising knuckles under the bright white light. Lifting his gaze to the mirror on the wall in front of him, he gasped softly. He looked a right mess. His face was blotchy and red, almost completely hiding the freckles littered over his cheeks and nose. His eyes were puffy and swollen, and the bright amber was muted into a dull brown. His lips had been bitten raw and his hair was sticking up in all directions, even more untameable than Pots’. 

Staring at his reflection, he bit back another sob as fresh tears rolled down his cheeks. His vision swam. He lifted a palm to clamp down over his mouth and another to his chest, pressing in as hard as he could. He squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself to calm down.

After several minutes of heavy breathing, he turned on the tap and splashed cold water on his face, again and again until he felt his fringe dripping wet. He lifted his thin singlet to dry his face clumsily, not caring that it got damp, and unlocked the bathroom door. 

When he approached the table, he saw that Leo had reheated their takeout and was seated on one of the chairs, plate empty in front of him. His legs were crossed on the chair and his right elbow was resting on the table, his head leaning into his palm. With his left hand, he was using his phone seemingly casually, but the way his right hand was roughly carding through his messy sandy hair, as well as his tense shoulders told Finn otherwise.

He took the seat opposite Leo’s, and the younger boy placed his phone face down on the table. His furrowed brows and darting eyes sent a wave of guilt cascading through Finn, and he attempted a smile, which was frankly more of a fractional upwards pull at the corner of his mouth. Still, Leo’s pursed lips softened into a smile, and he nodded at Finn, scooping some food onto the redhead’s plate, for which he nodded in thanks. 

“Eat, Harz.”

They ate in almost complete silence, save for Leo’s Spotify playlist that was playing through the speaker on top of the television console. As Mystery of Love wafted from the living room through the apartment, Finn whispered a barely audible “Thanks, Leo”. He received a glass of whiskey on the rocks from across the table in response.

“Aren’t drinking, are you, big boy?” He raised an eyebrow at the other boy, pointedly looking at the identical glass in his hand. “You know you aren’t legal yet.”

Leo leaned forward and smirked, “At least I can hold my liquor better than you, big boy.”

Finn couldn’t help but break into a smile at Leo’s cheek and raised his glass to meet his, finding some comfort in the soft clink that followed.

“It’s… It’s alright if you don’t wanna talk about it, yeah? We can, you know, put on a movie, or you can go have an early night if you want to,” Leo suggested a few minutes later, through a mouthful of spaghetti. He swallowed before continuing, “On me doit pas parler de cela maintenant.” 

Finn gave Leo a withering look, while secretly trying to control the rising hormones in him from hearing Leo speak his first language, “You know I don’t speak French.”

Leo hid his bashful smile behind his glass. “We don’t have to talk about it now.”

Finn’s features relaxed and he gave a weak smile, shrugging and returning his gaze to his spaghetti, prodding it with his fork.

Conversation flowed slightly easier between the two boys after that, though Leo tactfully avoided mentioning Logan or the events from earlier that evening.

After their usual routine of washing up, they retreated to the couch to watch Sherlock on Finn’s Netflix account, clutching their glasses of whiskey. Despite the fact that they actually had a decently sized couch, Finn realised that Leo had planted himself at a decently close proximity to him, although they didn’t actually have any contact between them.

Not even ten minutes into the episode, Finn struggled to stay focused, mind drifting to the events that had transpired just two hours ago.

If he hadn’t known for sure earlier before he had kissed Logan, he knew for sure now what the other boy meant to him. The ball of fire that blazed within him at the thought of Logan collided harshly with the shards of ice that pierced his chest when he had left, and Finn knew for sure that with everything he had, he loved the boy with the mahogany curls, often squashed flat under a cap, with the lopsided grin that appeared whenever they were laughing at some inside joke, with the green eyes that reminded him of glimmering emeralds, especially when they caught the sunlight.

Breaking out of his trance for a moment, he glanced surreptitiously at Leo from the corner of his eyes, and found that he was staring right back.

He shifted his gaze back to the television, heart pounding. Was Logan right, then? Did Leo really have feelings for him? I— I see the way he looks at you too, you know? Was this what he had meant? 

Leo had only ever been a teammate to him. Nothing more than friendly. At least, that’s what he had thought.

Suddenly, all the times he had happened to catch Leo’s eye before the other boy turned away quickly made sense. All the times in the locker rooms after games that he had injured himself, and Leo was always hovering nearby, with Logan as Remus assessed his injuries. All the times on the ice, as Finn and Logan had behaved their usual boisterous selves, and Leo had just watched on silently. It all sort of made sense in that moment. 

Leo had moved into Finn’s apartment only recently, when he had secretly admitted to not having enough savings to stay in a hotel, as most rookies usually did. Finn all but grabbed Leo’s bags and drove them to his place after training that day. He simply couldn’t allow the baby of their team to be homeless, not on his watch. Since then, these incidents had occurred more frequently, and Finn had felt some sort of unspoken tension between the two of them, although for the life of him he couldn’t understand why. 

They had developed a comfortable routine, and sometimes while doing the dishes together, Leo’s hands would brush his as they passed the dishes between them to be dried and kept. Other times, they’d be watching shows on the television, not unlike what they were doing then, and Leo would sit less than a foot away from him, propping his feet up on the small coffee table in front of them, ankles crossed. More times than he could count, Finn had fallen asleep on the couch, and woken up in the mornings to a blanket draped over him, and his phone plugged into his charger on top of the television console. 

Finn had always just assumed that Leo was being his usual friendly self, and repaying him back for giving him a roof over his head. Then again, now that he thought about it, it was strikingly obvious. 

He supposed he should’ve been shocked, and perhaps a tad awkward or uncomfortable, but he realised with a start that a violent blush had spread through his face. He brought a hand up to his cheek, feeling its warmth. He quickly picked up his forgotten glass on the coffee table and lifted it to his lips.

Leo tore his gaze away from the television screen to glance at him, and quirked an eyebrow. “Penny for your thoughts?”

Finn choked on his big gulp of his drink, pounding his fist into his chest to alleviate the sudden burning sensation spreading through him. 

Coughing a few times, he got off the couch and stepped over Leo’s feet carefully, heading to the kitchen to get two glasses of water. He returned back to the couch, offering Leo a glass, who took it appreciatively.

The blonde boy paused the episode of Sherlock, but stayed silent, giving him time to organise his thoughts. 

“I—” Finn started, then paused again, taking a sip of water to calm his nerves. “I don’t know,” sigh, “it’s just, things with— with Logan, y’know? I can barely comprehend what he…what’s going on. Sometimes he acts all interested in girls that we meet at parties, drapes himself all over them and dances with them, yeah? But then sometimes, he— Sometimes it seems like there’s something there. I don’t know.”

He paused in his tirade and hung his head, feeling embarrassed and very, very guilty for confiding in Leo about Logan, especially now knowing that the other boy had taken interest in him. 

He shook his head, mumbling, “I’m sorry. I don’t think you’d want to hear all this. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

There was a pause, and then, “Harz, mon chéri… I— god.” Finn turned his head slowly to see Leo lean against the back of the couch, staring at the ceiling.

Finn watched Leo’s blonde hair falling over his blue eyes, like sandy shores taming the crashing waves of the ocean. He watched his long lashes flutter as he blinked against the harsh light above them, watched as he pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth, following the lines and planes of his still boyish but increasingly maturing features down, down to his exposed neck. He watched the rise and fall of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed, and then the shaky rise and fall of his chest.

Leo was beautiful. Try as he might, Finn couldn’t deny his feelings for the younger boy.

“You… You love him, don’t you?” Leo lolled his head to the side, still resting on the back of the couch but now looking directly at Finn. He could see the pain in his eyes, clear as day.

“Yeah,” came his reply, instantly, but so soft that he wasn’t sure Leo actually heard it, until he heard the other boy’s exhale.

“Oui, oui… I guessed so,” Leo smiled sadly. “I just… I— I get it.”

“Nutty, I… You… You’re wonderful. You’re so, so kind, and so, so funny. God, you make me laugh so much. You— You take care of me, though I’m the one almost turning twenty-one here,” Leo chuckled wetly as Finn snorted, his lips pulling into a small smile. “Really, I used to be… I used to be lonely before you moved in, y’know? It was a mess between— between Lo and I. I was so happy when he got drafted, and then— then he chose to stay with Dumo, and I was… Well. But then, you came up to me one day, saying you needed a place to stay,” Finn smiled at the memory, “And I was so happy to have you move in. I wouldn’t have wished for it to be anyone else.” 

He looked up from his lap, and saw Leo seated cross legged on the couch, facing him. His eyes were bright with tears, but he held them back, staring back unwaveringly.

“But… But you don’t like me, oui?” Leo looked so heartbroken that Finn wanted to… He didn’t know what he wanted to do, but he wanted to make the pain go away, somehow. But how could he help Leo, if he didn’t even know how to fix the gaping hole in his own heart? Leo lifted his chin, almost challengingly, “I’m not stupid, I know where this is going.”

“No, but… But here’s the thing. I do,” Finn whispered, unable to meet Leo’s gaze. He just kept wringing his hands together in his lap, digging his nails into his skin hard enough to leave crescent shaped marks. “I like you.”

“Hein?”

“You’re right. Logan and I go way back. We’ve been best friends for four years, and— and I’ve loved him since I met him. But you, Nut,” Finn ran his fingers through his own auburn hair, “You are— I can’t stop thinking about you. Leo,” The other boy’s breath hitched, “Why does something that seems so wrong, feel so so right? Am I wrong? Am I… Am I wrong for feeling this way? Why can’t I get you out of my head?”

Finn stared at Leo with such an intensity, his huge amber eyes searching with desperation for some sort of answer, that Leo couldn’t help himself.

“Oh, Finn,” He pulled the shorter boy into an embrace, inhaling deeply and catching the faint scent of his shampoo. Finn was tucked into Leo’s chest, with his legs resting on top of Leo’s left thigh and dangling over the edge of the couch. Leo’s right leg was bent at an angle, squished awkwardly between the back of the couch and Finn’s back.

Despite the uncomfortable position they were in, they stayed that way for a while, neither of them wanting to break apart.

“Harz,” Leo’s voice was soft, buried in Finn’s red locks, “I… Since I joined the Lions, it was always you. You have no idea, mon chéri. I was drawn to you instantly. Your flaming red hair, your ridiculous game traditions, the way you can’t hold your liquor to save your fucking life.”

Both boys snorted at that.

“I never… I never dared to tell you. Especially when you offered me a place to stay. I couldn’t fuck that up by letting my feelings run wild. I didn’t even— I didn’t even know if you swung the same way, yeah? I was so afraid. But then I saw the way you’d look at Tremzy when you thought nobody was looking. I saw. And it ruined me, but then sometimes you acted… I wondered. I wondered if I’d ever have a chance. I wondered about what it’d be like if you gave me a chance.”

Leo’s hand stilled in Finn’s hair, simply holding him for several heartbeats. Eventually, he sighed, dropping his hands to Finn’s shoulders and pushing him back slightly, holding him at arm’s length, so they could look each other in the eyes.

“Finn, there’s nothing wrong with having feelings for two people at the same time. At least, not completely, not exactly,” He shrugged, “I think that… I think it’s perfectly reasonable. As long as there’s proper— y’know, communication, between the involved parties, and there’s some sort of consensus or compromise, hmm? Communication and understanding are always key, for sure.”

Leo smiled fondly at Finn, and he felt the ice in his heart melt.

“Love is love, is what I always believe in. If you have feelings for two people at the same time, so be it. But do things the right way, oui? There’s always something worth fighting for.”

It was only much later that night that Finn managed to fall asleep, Leo’s words and Mystery of Love resounding in his ears.

******

The sound of his phone ringing on his nightstand woke Finn up abruptly in the middle of a particularly strange dream. Rubbing his eyes, he pushed himself up on one elbow and leaned over, wincing as he felt his back crack.

Hoping that the ringing wasn’t too loud that it would wake Leo up in the next room, he unplugged his phone from the charger, eyes still half-closed. It was five forty-eight in the morning. What on earth…? Finn hit the answer button.

“‘Lo?” His voice was raspy, a combination of the crying, whiskey and sleep. How wonderful.

“Harzy, have you seen Logan?” Dumo’s worried voice crackled through the phone. “Is he with you?”

“Nnnnnnnnnnnngh… No, he isn’t,” Finn said through a yawn, “Why? Didn’t he go home last night?”

“I don’t know, Katie’s sick so we all went to bed early. Usually he lets himself in— he’s got a key, but he’s not in the basement and his room is a mess,” Dumo scoffed, “Well, more of a mess than it usually is anyway. He’s upturned his entire wardrobe.”

“Mmmmmm…. Maybe he went out for a run?” He yawned again. He wouldn’t put it past Logan to be running laps around the block at this time of the morning. Back when they were in Harvard, he would be woken up by Logan at the crack of dawn daily to run with him before classes. Gotta keep in shape, Harz. Not everyone’s blessed with a naturally sexy body, you know? He had rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to respond with a snarky comment, until he had seen Logan’s eyes roaming over his body. That had shut him right up. 

“I don’t know, mon gars, something seems off here,” There was a shuffling sound over on Dumo’s end of the phone, as though he were looking through Logan’s room. Finn found himself drifting back to sleep, though a nagging thought in his mind prevented him from falling asleep completely.

Without warning, Dumo let out a curse in French, loud enough for Finn to jerk away from the phone, hitting his head on his headboard in the process.

“Ow…. What is it, Dumo?”

“His passport is gone. He left.”

[cloverfics]

at least i have the memory ; jackson wang

warnings implied death, and crying

genre angst, some fluff ( i think )

word count 0.6k

inspo sad songs from my playlist

synopsis while moving in, you encounter a box you swore you would avoid

You let out a huff of exhaustion before bending down you open another box. You and your boyfriend, Drew, were halfway through them thankfully. You don't understand why he didn't let the moving people help more, something about you two spending more quality time together or something. In the end, you didn't mind as much. It was nice to see your things again and it felt even better to arrange them to your liking.

Though, with this box you wished you had checked the labeling before pulling the flaps aside. You gasped audibly at the sight of the memorabilia that sat inside. It was Jackson's box. The box you could've sworn you told Drew to take. But now you had it.

You sighed, finding your way to the wood floor of your new bedroom. Pulling the box closer to you and peering inside. An immediate smile found your face when you saw all the framed pictures of either him or you both. Out of habit, your hand reached inside for your favorite framed one of them all.

It was the last picture you two had taken together. You held it close to your heart.

While becoming mesmerized with it, you dusted some of the lint from off of the glass. Your thumb finding its way to rubbing over Jackson's face was he gazed down at you. That dopey grin he always wore when he was happy plastered across his face. It started to turn your own fond smile downwards.

You missed him. And his dopey smile, and the laughter that soon came with that smile, and his warm hugs, his caring words were something you missed most of all. It made you sad all over again knowing you'd never get any of those things ever again. And it wasn't just because you were with Drew now.

You sniffled before reaching into the box again. The frown on your face deepening when your fingers grazed the last "gift" Jackson had ever given you. It was a letter. And also the last few words he ever said to you. Drew made you pack it, while you argued throwing it away. It made you too distraught. But you still found yourself fishing it out and placing your favorite picture of you two aside.

'To my love, ' it read. Your lips were already quivering before you could even pull the actual letter out. With a sharp inhale, you did. You let out a small breath of laughter at the tear stains you had left on it around six months ago. The first and last time you had read it. Well, until now.

It took a couple of minutes before you fully got enough courage to let your eyes glaze across his neat handwriting and meaningful words. Every word made your heart beat faster, it felt like he was reading it to you himself. And that made you stop halfway through. And the fact you were getting fresh tears on the paper.

"___-" Drew came barging into your guy's room but halted when he saw you in tears at the foot of the bed. He quickly noticed Jackson's box and cursed under is breathe for leaving it in here with you.

"Hey, hey, I'm here," he came to your side immeadiately and draped his arm around you. Gingerly removing the letter from your hands like it was some priceless artifact. You leaned into his shoulder for comfort.

Silence filled the room as your sobs started to subside and all that really came out of you were sniffles. "I'm sorry for not taking his box with me," he apologized.

"It's okay," you cleared your throat and started to put away Jackson's stuff.

"I can't compete with him, can I?" Drew said all of a sudden. You laughed.

"I don't think so." You said softly, silently saying goodbye to Jackson as you closed his box back up.

[acdeaky]

fluff alphabet

warning: fluff, brief mention of nudity, brief mention of sex

note: so i was hoping for TYMH II to be out tonight, but that’s not happening, so it’ll either be next week or the week after. i didn’t want to leave you with nothing this week, so, enjoy!

word count: 1.6k

A = attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

ben finds most things attractive about you, but he mainly loves your hands. the way they fit so perfectly into his own and the way they’re always avaible for him to grab, or kiss, or hold. no matter what, in any situation, ben will, at some point, reach out for your hand. it may be to calm his nerves, or to just know you’re there. regardless, he loves them.

B = baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

you can bet on your life that ben wants a family. this guy is a natural with children and can’t wait to have many with you. he’s thinking maybe five or six, but you want to stick with two or three. honestly, as long as he’s the father to your children, he doesn’t care how many you have. he wants a family with you and only you.

C = cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

ben is the biggest, cuddliest teddy bear ever; he loves to pull you close to him. whether you’re on the sofa, in bed, at an award show or on set, he likes to know that you’re pressed up against him. he either wraps his arms around your waist or shoulders, or you wrap your arms around his neck or waist. his favourite cuddling position is when you’re laid down, his arms wrapped around you and your head on his chest. it’s heaven to him.

D = dates (What are dates with them like?)

dates with ben are perfect. his favourite date is the two of you together, either laid out in your garden watching the stars (in summer), or laid on the sofa, the coal fire lit and netflix on the tv. of course, you have more formal dates, like dinner, premieres and award shows, but ben prefers to have you to himself.

E = everything (You are my __ (e.g my life, my world...)

you are ben’s treasure. he treasures ever moment with you and wishes for some days to never end. he believes everything happens for a reason and that’s why he treasures every second, minute, hour, day, week, month and year with you. you mean everything to ben; his hidden treasure in this nasty world.

F = feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

it was probably in the fourth month of you two being together. you were stood making dinner while ben was lounging on the sofa reading a new script when your favourite song came onto the playlist. your audible gasp caught ben’s attention and dragged him away from his reading. he sat for the full song watching you enjoy yourself and the music. that’s when he knew he was in love with you.

G = gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

ben is the most gentle person you’ve been with. even down to the way he touches you, he’s gentle. a gentle lover, a gentle holder, a gentle giver. he always touches you like you’re about to break, like a precious piece of china which he prizes above all.

H = holding hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

ben loves to have your fingers intertwined with his. he was never one for just holding your hand, he has to feel it. he has to feel your fingers against his, your palm and his. no matter where you are, he’ll find your hand and intertwine your fingers, pulling you closer and pressing a kiss to your head.

I = impression (First impression?)

for ben, it was definitely love at first sight. your bright smile caught his eyes as you laughed at a joke someone had said. the nonchalance of you stood at the bar entrapped him in a trance. his eyes lingered and all he could think was that he was staring at the most beautiful person in london, if not, the world.

J = joker (Are they into pulling pranks?)

you had named ben the king of pranks. they were only small (and only slightly scary sometimes) but they caught you out every single time. you would laugh about it afterwards, of course, but his humorous side was something you never wanted him to lose.

K = kiss (How do they kiss?)

ben kisses you like there’s no tomorrow. he puts so much feeling and passion into your kisses, even if they’re only a small peck. his soft lips feel heavenly on yours, especially after a long day of work. whenever he kissed you, he always had at least one hand on your cheek, keeping you in place near him for as long as possible.

L = love (Who said 'I love you' first?)

ben. his friends used to tease him about how blunt he had been in telling you and how stupid he was to let it slip like that, but you couldn’t have been happier. no matter how either of you had first said it, it was special. it was something you knew you would treasure together (even if he did say it drunkenly while naked in the shower which was not turned on).

M = memory (What's their favorite memory together?)

the first night you had spent together. it had been a long and loving date. ben treated you to dinner, a movie and a walk along he river thames before he took you back to his apartment and spent the entire night making love to you. god, the morning after was a treat, too.

N = no (What's their pet peeve?)

he can’t stand when you leave the shower mat on the floor. you know that it won’t dry down there, and he knows that you know this, but you can never make it a habit to pick it up.

O = orange (What color reminds them of their other half?)

pink. he remembers seeing a pink aura around you when he first saw you. the lighting was pink to, adding to the beautiful sight in front of him. pink also reminded him of your lips and the colour of your cheeks when ben first spoke to you. you were pink in his eyes.

P = pet names (What pet names do they use? What pet names do you use on them?)

my love, darling, baby, babe, angel, sweetheart and, his and your personal favourite, love. they work both ways.

Q = quaint (What is their favorite non-modern thing?)

ben loves snapping polaroids of you. the additional glow the light gives you which is perfectly captured by polaroids is something ben swoons over. snapping one of you in bed the morning after a night together, the light hitting you in the right way and the sheets bunched around your body saved for the perfect reminder of what he had waiting at home after filming.

R = romantic (Are they romantic during the relationship?)

ben is the soppiest romantic going. he loves buying you little gifts from time to time and setting up treasure hunts for you to enjoy. he goes all out on valentine’s day. he gets a teddy, chocolates, roses, everything. he loves to spoil the one he loves.

S = smile (What makes them smile without fail?)

just you. you in the morning, you at night, you in the bath splashing him with bubbles and placing them on his head. literally anything about you makes him smile.

T = talking (What do they like to talk about?)

ben will talk about anything with you. from small talk to the existence of the universe. anything small or anything big will come up as a topic of conversation with ben. and you love that. ben’s got a type of intellect that you have never experienced before; it fascinates you.

U = unbearable (What habit do they have that's unbearable? What habit do you have that they find unbearable?)

ben leaves the toilet seat up. you leave the shower mat on the floor. that’s it.

V = vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

ben literally shows you off all the time. award shows, premieres, parties, after parties, to his family, to your family, on instagram... all the time. he likes to show off that he has you, that he has someone as incredible and as amazing as you are and that he deserves you, as you deserve him. he’s proud of being yours.

W = wedding (How was the wedding?)

the wedding went perfectly. everything fell into place, the ceremony was beautiful, the reception was stunning, your hotel suite afterwards was incredible. everyone looked beautiful and fit in perfectly with the day. neither you nor ben wanted the day to end.

X = xylophone (What's their song?)

ben’s song is you take my breath away. he can relate because, like in the song, his lover takes his breath away in every way everyday. there’s nothing that you can’t do that won’t make ben say ‘wow’.

Y = you (You are the ___to my ___ (e.g. the cookies to my milk, the macaroni to my cheese)

you are the light to ben’s life. he can’t remember a time when he wasn’t happy, that’s how long you’d been in his life, making it brighter everyday. he couldn’t be more grateful for you and your light.

Z = zzz (How heavy of a sleeper are they? How do they sleep?)

ben is the heaviest sleeper going. he dozes off so quickly so you’re left falling asleep to the gentle noise of his snores and the rise and fall of his chest. ben usually likes to sleep on his back, one arm around you and the other over his lower torso. your head fits perfectly into the gap below his shoulder, the perfect height for his head to rest on.

-

TAGLIST: @never-kept-the-same-address @j0hn-deaky @sohoneyspreadyourwings @brian-maybe-not @deakysbabybooty @1001-yellow-daffodils @retromusicsalad @hardcoredisneynerd @painkiller80 @leatherjacketmazzello @scarecrowmax @mebeatlized @seesiderendezvous @alright-mrfahrenheit @someone-get-a-medic @miamideacon @chlobo6 @teenagepeterpan @spacedustmazzello @deakysgurl @forever-rogue @xcdelilahxc @keepsdrawing @hardzellosposts @soulexposed @supersonicfreddie @laedymoon @inthedayswhenlandswerefew @warriorteam1924 @painandpleasure86 @boomerangbassist

[snowkatze]

Are you in the mood?

Genre: angst Word Count: 1647 Warnings: kinda graphic imagery (in a metaphor), depressive thoughts Summary: Baz is tired of doing what’s expected.

_________________ Sadness had made itself a home in Baz' chest. It had hollowed out the space just beneath his rip-cage and settled there. It was there to stay – was growing violet flowers next to his heart, was playing music in the middle of the night. Sadness was the worst kind of subtenant. Sometimes, Baz became more aware to its presence. Days like these, when memory was more real than the present, it felt like sadness was trying to climb out, cutting of his air, making it hard to swallow. Sadness had been a subtenant for a very long time – and he hadn't let it go out – but sometimes he remembered the time before it had moved in. The anniversary of her death was one of these days.

Baz was down in the catacombs, because where else would he go, and his head was spinning. He wasn't drunk, didn't want to be, because he knew that sadness was a resident and not easily dismissed. He let a flame dance between his fingers and thought about all the things he could set on fire down here. There were the skulls, the bones, the metal on the walls, the pieces of wood on the floor, but it was damp in here. Most flammable was, of course, the vampire, but Baz tried not to think about that. (Baz couldn't help thinking about that. Sadness down there was ordering pizza, making cocktails and putting together an angry playlist of Metallica songs – ready to throw a fucking party.)

When he heard the footsteps, his instinct was to get up and saunter onwards without leaving a trace, but then he took a moment of inward reflection and discovered that actually, he really didn't care enough. Not tonight, anyway.

Hadn't he been on the run long enough? This was the way the world turned, of course. In the end, justice would catch up to him anyway. At least that's the way it was supposed to go. So he stayed put as the footsteps grew louder, didn't even bother to put on a mocking smile. He was sick of playing the game. Just for a bit, he allowed himself indulging the impossibility of leaving the game without giving up, without losing it. (It, the game, or it, his mind – same difference.)

When Simon Snow stepped into the room, Baz didn't lift his head and smirk. He didn't make a cutting remark. He didn't scoff and cross his arms. He didn't walk over and touched him, either. He didn't card his fingers through Simon's curls. He didn't dip his head and lean in for a kiss. But Simon Snow didn't spit in his face and punch him, so. You win some, you lose some.

Baz saw an angry expression, or more precisely, the angry expression on Simon's face, the one he always wore when he found Baz in the catacombs. Oh great, he thought, here we go again. Usually, he'd make up some bullshit excuse, something like taking a midnight walk or following a cat. Something he'd make up something that hit a little too close to home, like, hey, I'm visiting my dead mom. Sometimes he made a sarcastic comment that Simon took entirely serious, like, just looking for a good spot to put your skull. Still trying to work out the intricate technicalities of hiding in plain sight.

Suddenly, when Simon took one step further, his shadow shifted. The tall candles in front of the burning torch cast huge shadows above Simon's head. They started to look like giant horns. The sword that Simon had lifted near his head cast a shadow like a sizzling demon tongue. It looked like a monster's shadow. Despite himself, a shiver went down Baz' spine.

“Oh. Well,” he sighed, seemingly unbothered. “If it isn't Simon Snow. The Chosen One. Saviour of the World of Mages. Did you come to save me?”

Baz softly bit his lip, something dark flickering through his eyes.

“No... So what are you in the mood for today?” he finished.

“What are you doing here?” Simon snarled back.

“Sucking the blood of the most pure and innocent rats, what else?” Baz deadpanned, careful to make himself sound sarcastic.

He gave his own shadow a glance. Just a harmless boy's shadow. Talk about role-reversal.

“I know you're up to something,” Simon says, eyes narrowed.

“Right. I'm up to no good.”

I don't think he even knows how much of a cliché he's being.

“And this is the part where I say 'The only thing I'm up to is planning how to make your life miserable for the next three years' and you'll say something like 'Oh Baz, you're such a horrible person'. Is that it? Is that what you're in the mood for? 'How could you, Baz?', is that the one? 'I'm watching you', that's a good one.”

“Stop trying to distract me. I'll -”

“- figure out your devious plan?” Baz asked tiredly. Simon stared at him, stunned. “Yeah. The script's getting predictable.”

Simon scooted closer. He was clearly irritated, going by the frown on his face. Baz' gaze fell on Simon's shadow again. He could see how the monster would attack him. Already had attacked him. Simon Snow ripped him open, like his knuckles when he punched the walls in the catacombs. And it all came falling out – the truth – the pain – every part of him that was broken – which was – every part of him. Simon Snow didn't need to be a monster to bust him open. The opposite, in fact. He just needed to smile his sunshine smile, radiate the energy of a Golden Retriever, and it was over for Baz.

What are you gonna do with the pieces, Simon Snow, once you've picked me apart?

“Why don't we skip the pleasantries?” Baz drawled. “Get to the good part right away. You in the mood for a fight? Is that what you want?”

There was a dangerous, nearly mad gleam in his eyes. His thoughts kept going in spirals – the things he should do intertwining with the things he wanted to do. He was too worn out to keep them separated.

Baz expected Simon to get riled up and throw an insult at him, because usually it was so easy, but instead Simon's face softened and he asked: “Baz... What's going on?”

Somehow, that was worse. Of course it was. Those were the weapons Simon Snow fought with; kind words and soft smiles. The bugger didn't even know it.

Baz' eyes flickered away and he huffed out a breath at the audacity of it.“I'm tired, Snow. What else is new?”

“It's 2 am.”

“Damn right it is.”

Snow seemed unsure how to act. He tried to approach Baz with the same care you would dismantle a bomb with.

“Are you in the mood for a feast, then? There's gotta be some... dead rats... lying around here somewhere. Or are you in the mood to strike?”

Baz nodded to the sword.

“Today you might be in for a lucky shot.”

He broke into a manic fit of giggles. Pain broke through the confused expression on Simon's face. He walked closer, wanting to reach out, not knowing what to do with his hands. Slowly, he lowered himself next to Baz.

“What are you talking about?” he whispered, shock evident in his voice. He let the sword disappear, surprised that he was even still holding it.

What are you gonna do, Simon Snow, once you've pulled out my heart? Are you in the mood for a casserole dish? How about you put it on a skewer?

Sadness in the basement started blasting “Honey I'm Good” from the speakers. Then it began smashing the furniture with a baseball bat, making a riot. Baz felt tears well up in his eyes and he squeezed them shut. He couldn't stop thinking about it. He didn't kick Snow that day. He didn't step up to dance with him. He didn't put his hand on his lower back. He didn't hurt him. He didn't touch him. Sadness grabbed a ladder in his heart, knocked on the door, wanted out - then – suddenly – something touched his shoulder – he flinched back and opened his eyes. Snow was looming over him, his eyes wide in concern. Baz let out a barely audible gasp. A soothing touch – this was how Simon Snow fought. Baz felt mortally wounded. He swallowed hard.

“Come on, Snow. Why don't you go for the kill?” Baz said with a raspy voice.

There was real fear in his eyes, he was certain that Simon could see it. But the same fear seemed to be in Simon's eyes. He leaned closer. Baz was unable to move. With a light touch, Simon pushed a curl behind Baz' ear. Then he went for the kill – the kiss.

This was how Simon Snow won an argument. Baz lightly pulled at Simon's hair, we should be fighting. Simon softly moved his thumb across Baz' chin, let's just do this instead. Simon leaned back slightly, leaving his head near Baz'. Baz let out a shuddering breath. His eyes skimmed over Simon's face, trying to find something there, whether he was a boy or a monster. But it was just Simon Snow.

“Why are you doing this?” Baz breathed, scared of the answer.

“I don't know,” Simon replied, appearing stunned. “I think that's just... what I'm in the mood for. Is that okay?”

He put his hand on Baz'.

“Can we do that?”

He was just Simon Snow, and he shot Baz a tentative smile. That was all it took. Baz could only nod and turn his hand over, gripping Simon's tightly, finding something akin to hope in his eyes.

Sadness, he thought. You're fucking evicted.

[sunmisgirl]

NCT 127 Reaction to Catching S/O Jamming to Their Songs

Taeil:

You remember when Taeil was nervous about their comeback with “Simon Says”. The sound was completely experimental and he feared it wouldn’t receive positive feedback. You reassured him that this comeback would be a success (it obviously was) and months later still dance to the song. It currently plays from your Bose speakers and reaches its best part: Haechan’s vocals followed by Taeil’s. You lip-sync his high note and continue dancing to the song, trying to nail the choreography to the best of your abilities. Taeil smiles amusedly at your efforts and is glad he has your constant support for his music.

Johnny:

You're sleeping soundly until you get an early call from Johnny saying he's stopping by a café first to bring you breakfast. You mumble out an incoherent response and hang up trying to catch a few extra minutes of sleep. Ten minutes later, your alarm clock blares out the tune of "Cherry Bomb". You groan and shove your head under the pillow knowing it's no use going back to sleep.

Going through your morning routine, the song stays stuck in your head and you can't help singing softly. Minutes later, you're doing the entire choreography in your pajamas. Johnny opens your front door and catches you doing the move to Cherry Bomb (yeah THAT move). He wants to laugh so badly but holds it in so you don't notice his presence. You know you didn't exactly execute the move correctly, but you don't care because it's all for fun anyways. Once the song finishes, he starts clapping and cheering loudly which makes you jump. You sigh in relief once your heart beat stabilizes and punch him in the arm for scaring you.

Taeyong:

Taeyong had to stay behind at SM to do more recordings for the upcoming album. You consider this an advantage and start cleaning up your closet with Spotify playing in the background. A few songs play but don’t capture your attention because you’re too busy contemplating between donating some sweatshirts or jeans. Suddenly, “Whiplash” starts playing and you audibly gasp because that. is. your. BOP. 

You fling your sweatshirts and jeans aside and do a full-on impromptu performance in front of the mirror. The music completely consumes your senses as you dance around the room yelling, “Long ass ride!” You don’t make it through the entire song though because Taeyong comes home curious to the music playing from your room and stands there in stunned silence. You acknowledge his shocked expression and simply shrug, “It’s a certified bop, Tae.” 

Yuta:

Yuta has been practicing a lot the past two weeks in preparation for their upcoming tour dates. After his rehearsal from today, he races to your place because he finds comfort in your presence (and you have a comfy couch but he won’t dare admit that). You happily welcome him and prepare some snacks in the kitchen before walking back over to the living room and seeing him sound asleep on your couch. Smiling at his peaceful face, you search for a spare blanket and place it over him before returning to your room. 

Taking advantage of the silence, you bound to your desk and try completing some assignments with your playlist on shuffle. “Chain” plays out of nowhere and it takes everything in you not to scream and grab Yuta to beg him for more dance lessons. To avoid waking him up from his slumber, you softly sing along while jotting down some notes. Yuta stirs awake at the music and peers over at you from the couch, smiling to himself hearing your attempts to sing in Japanese.

Doyoung:

Today was an incredibly long day and all you wanted to do was unwind with some music and snacks. You hate to admit it, but you've been missing Doyoung a lot lately. Scrolling through your endless playlist, you plop down on the couch and finally settle on "Sun & Moon" because you love the tenderness of his voice in this specific track. You start singing along and eventually the stresses from your day melt away. Little did you know, Doyoung planned to surprise you at your place and enters through the front door listening to you sing his lines. He silently admires you from afar to avoid disturbing your jam session.

Jaehyun:

Jaehyun invites you to the set of a photoshoot for NCT. He promises to spend the rest of the day with you if you wait around for him.  Of course you said yes. Who can resist those dimples? Patiently waiting for the shoot to end, you stroll around in the back listening to “Touch”. You can’t help but start mimicking the moves to yourself without calling too much attention. You’re in your own little world until you lock eyes with Jaehyun and realize he saw the entire thing. Cringing to yourself, you pull out your earbuds and tuck them away in your jacket pocket. He grins at you while his hair and makeup get retouches and laughs, “Well don’t stop now because of me!”

Winwin:

Sicheng loves how much you support him and NCT. You constantly praise the group and enthusiastically list off your favorite songs every time 127 invites you out for dinner. That night, you had a little too much of Mark’s “apple juice” so Sicheng decides to drive you home. Helping you enter the front door, you gasp dramatically and utter, “You look just like my boyfriend Sicheng. He’s in an amazing group called NCT 127. Look! Let me show you my favorite song.” 

You mildly stumble over to your laptop where Spotify is already open from your previous listening session and play “Limitless”. Swearing you are the coolest person on the earth, you start busting out moves and singing along like you’re a part of the music video. He shamelessly records you on his phone from his seat, but you don’t even notice because you’re too involved in the music. Whenever he is away doing promotions and misses you, he pulls up the video and smiles to himself thinking how lucky he is to have a goofball like you in his life.

Jungwoo:

You wanted to surprise Jungwoo by waiting for him in the practice room. You catch up with social media and watch some Youtube videos to kill time. You decide to watch “Regular” and try practicing some of the moves on your own. Might as well use this opportunity of the spacious practice room! Focusing hard on mastering the dance, you don’t even realize much time has passed. After practicing a couple more times, you lay on the floor covered in light sweat and huff out tiredly. 

Jungwoo suddenly appears from above with a surprised and confused look. You sit up and accept the water bottle in his hand. “What are you doing here?” he questions with a slight chuckle. “I was waiting around for you and then kinda got distracted trying to kill time. How did you manage to learn the previous dances for 127 and Regular in such a short time?” He playfully shrugs his shoulders and replies, “It was so easy!”

Mark:

Your relationship with Mark is fun and super light-hearted. However, you refuse to let him see your terrible dance moves when he's a literal dancing machine. The man puts you to shame whenever you see him practicing for a comeback. Your latest guilty pleasure is NCT 127's collab with Lay and Jason Derulo. Since Mark isn't home, you turn up the speakers and blast the song through your apartment while letting loose.

However, Mark arrives shortly and witnesses your chaotic dancing and singing. He can't help letting out a laugh and you turn around mortified. "Wow you're really loving the collab, babe," he teases with a smirk. You love teasing Mark back and decide to turn the tables on him. Singing louder than before and moving your body all around, you belt out, "Jamaican girls wanna blow it down. My Asian girls wanna work it out. Turn around, don't talk-". He stares at you in shock and gets all shy before cutting you off, "Okayyyyy time to go grab some dinner!" He turns off the speakers and drags you out the front door hoping you'll stop singing once you're both outside.

Haechan:

Haechan begged you for a karaoke night for weeks so you finally cave in and promise to go out tonight. Doing your usual routine, you pick out your best clothes and mildly dance or sing along to whatever song plays from your phone on the nightstand. “Good Thing” comes on and that puts you in the perfect mood. Styling your hair proves to be difficult because you can’t stop grooving to the music. 

You finally finish getting ready for the date and pretend to sing in the mirror using your brush handle. As the song ends, you strike a dramatic pose and see Haechan silently judging you in the doorway from the reflection in the mirror. “I hope you stay this happy when I score higher than you during karaoke,” he taunts in your direction. You spin around and raise an eyebrow, “Challenge accepted, babe.”

[justlookfrightened]

NHL!Jack, Part 3

There's a short NSFW bit towards the beginning; if you want to skip it, stop after the second graf (ending "feeling their time was limited"). Skip the next three grafs, picking up at "When it was over ...") and know both of them enjoyed themselves immensely, and that Jack was a little surprised at how comfortable it was.

Part 1   Part 2  Part 4   Part 5

Part 6   

Part 7   or AO3

When it came time to leave Bitty’s hotel room, Jack tried very hard not to think about the fact that the next time he talked to Bitty, he’d likely be three states away. The distance would only grow when the Falconers returned to Providence.

He tried to focus on the last two hours instead. It wasn’t magical, precisely, but it was awfully good — and far less awkward than Jack had feared. They hadn’t done so much, really. In some ways, it reminded him of the first fumbling encounters with Kent, fast and sloppy blow jobs and hand jobs in nondescript hotel rooms on the road, knowing the door was locked against their teammates, but always feeling their time was limited.

With Bitty, though, it was so much better. Not only because Bitty had a small bottle of lube tucked into his bag, which made the feeling of Bitty’s hand stroking him exquisite. Then when Bitty pushed him down and settled between his knees without Jack even having to ask -- no, Bitty had done the asking, looking up at Jack from under his lashes, saying “Can I?” -- that was nearly enough to make Jack come as soon as Bitty’s mouth touched him.

Then he lasted what should have been an embarrassingly short time, but Bitty seemed to take it in stride, just spreading some lube on Jack’s hand, joining it with his, and placing both of them on his own still-hard erection.

“Like this,” Bitty whispered into Jack’s neck, showing Jack how to pull at him. In the end, he didn't last much longer than Jack.

When it was over and they’d cleaned up, Bitty pulled the covers over them and curled into Jack’s side.

“Sleep or talk?” Bitty asked.

It was all Jack could do to stay awake, but he murmured, “Don't want to waste our time together.”

“But you're tired, sweet pea,” Bitty said. “Tell you what, ask me questions and I'll just ramble along."

Jack tried to protest because Bitty had a long day of driving ahead of him, but Bitty just started talking about the mini pies he’d made when Jack turned up in Samwell. So Jack asked him how he learned to cook, and Bitty told Jack about spending days in his MooMaw’s kitchen while his Mama and coach were at work.

“Your coach?” Jack asked.

“Coach is my dad, not my coach,” Bitty said. “He's the high school football coach in town. Everyone calls him Coach.”

Jack wanted to pursue that, but it might be too much at this time of night.

“What was the music you were listening to when you were making breakfast?”

That was either a very good or very bad question, judging by the way Bitty dropped his jaw and gasped audibly.

“You didn't recognize Beyonce? Vintage Beyonce even? Wait, who do you listen to?”

Jack shrugged. He knew what was coming.

“Euh, Coldplay, Wilco, maybe some Neil Young or Tom Petty.”

“Oh my God, Jack,” Bitty said. “Anyone from this century?”

“Adele can sing,” Jack said.

Bitty allowed that Adele could, in fact, sing, but then started throwing names at him. Some were the same names that Jack heard in association with music from the younger guys in the locker room, but for all that he could say they were musicians, he had no idea which singer went with which song.

“Oh, my Lord, Jack, are you sure you don’t have actual children somewhere? Because you and Coach could bond over, I don’t know, the Traveling Wilburys or something,” Bitty said. Jack knew he was being chirped about his dad music, but the affection in it was plan on Bitty’s face and in his voice, so Jack just said, “I like them,” and started singing, “She’s My Baby.”

Bitty laughed, more with him than at him, and said, “Be prepared. I will be sending you playlists.”

“Are those like mixtapes?” Jack asked., trying to keep the proper sense of bewilderment in his voice but nearly laughing instead.

“Hush, you,” Bitty said. “I know you know what a playlist is.”

When they’d settled again, this time with Bitty’s head on Jack’s shoulder and Jack stroking the short, soft hair behind his ear, Bitty asked, “Don’t be mad at me asking, but you do know how to use Skype, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Jack said. “I Skype with my parents once or twice a week.”

“If we exchange contact information, maybe we could Skype when you have time?” Bitty said. “I know how busy you are now, and if things go the way we hope, it’ll be that way for a little while yet, but maybe we could find a time that works for you? On your off days?”

Jack bent his neck to kiss the top of Bitty’s head. “Every day,” he said. “Or at least, I’ll try. Once next season starts, it might be hard, depending on our schedules.”

Bitty had nodded, a movement Jack felt rather than saw, and said, “We’ll try our best.”

Then Bitty had yawned, and they lay there together in comfortable silence until the alarm on Bitty’s phone told them it was time for Jack to go.

********************************

If it wasn’t for the time Jack spent talking to Bitty, he’d gladly have forgotten the next two days.

On Friday, the day Bitty left, Jack slept late and woke up to a text from Bitty -- it was a selfie of him and Shitty and Lardo in the breakfast room at their hotel, all holding up those make-your-own waffles that were a fixture of hotel breakfast.

The text included a links to an Instagram and a Twitter account, where Bitty had shared the picture with the caption Spending time with some of my favorite people! #FreeBreakfast #bonus

Jack followed both accounts and noted that neither post included a location tag. Bitty might have been anywhere.

A few minutes later, there was another text, this one just to Jack.

Packed up and headed out. Gonna drop Shitty and Lardo at the train station so they can go back to Boston and head for Georgia. Skype at 10 tonight? That should give me plenty of time.

Jack texted back, Sure thing, I already miss you.

The reply came before he even put the phone down.

Me too sweetpea.

What followed was a usual road off-day: high-protein breakfast, light workout, team meetings, lunch, watching tape, rest, team dinner, more tape. Marty sought him out at lunch but couldn’t pry too much because the other guys were there. He just asked how Jack’s dinner with his friend had gone.

“Friends, actually,” Jack said. “But it was good to get away from hockey for a bit.”

He wasn’t sure whether Tater noticed Marty’s raised eyebrows; he joined the conversation by saying, “I didn’t know Zimmboni had friends in Washington.”

“They were just here for a visit,” Jack said. “They left this morning.”

“Lucky you could hook up then,” Tater said, and Marty choked and blamed the water for going down the wrong pipe.

Every couple of hours, Jack would get a text from Bitty, sometimes with a photograph of an old gas station or just a quip about how he knew he was getting further south by the way the humidity was making his hair frizz.

There was a picture about 1 p.m. of a bowl of barbecue and a biscuit, and at around 7:30, there was a picture of a two-story house with a deep shaded porch and an attached garage. The grass was a brilliant green, and the soil that showed at the edges of the driveway and front walk was more russet than black. A red flag with a big black G in the center hung from a pole attached to the porch.

Home sweet home, the caption read.

Then, Mama’s gonna want to feed me and hear all about my trip. Still on to Skype at 10?

I’ll be waiting, Jack texted back.

He wondered if Bitty telling his mother all about his trip included telling her about Jack. Jack decided it probably didn’t. They hadn’t yet discussed how private they would keep their relationship; so far, only Shitty and Lardo really knew. And Marty, probably.

It would be fine with Jack if Bitty wanted to tell his parents. But it was something they should talk about.

Jack decided he wouldn’t talk about Bitty to his parents when he called them. Telling them would be perfectly safe -- he was sure of that -- but it should be something he and Bitty decided together.

Still, it made for an awkward Skype call home. Jack felt like he sounded kind of pathetic: What had he been doing outside of hockey? Nothing really. Just hanging out with the team, watching tape, sometimes taking a break to watch the History Channel (every hotel had the History Channel) or read a book, because Mama and Papa insisted that being a hockey player did not mean he should neglect his mind. If not for Bitty, that’s exactly what he would have done, but now (after two dates? Encounters?) he felt like he was leaving the best parts out. Even if he really couldn’t have talked about all the best parts. But the mini pies and the omelets and the falafel and Bitty chirping him over his musical taste -- he could have told them all of that.

Maybe that was why, when Bitty connected their Skype call and popped up in his screen, he jumped in way too quickly. He did take a moment to appreciate that Bitty was clearly in his childhood bedroom, with cream colored walls, a shelf behind him with lots of medals, and a poster of a beautiful woman (Jack assumed she was Beyonce from the way Bitty talked about her) and a poster of Patrick Chan.

Bitty himself was smiling a little too brightly, like he was tired and didn’t want to show it.

“Hey there,” Bitty said. “Good rest day?”

“Good enough,” Jack said. “The usual. I just talked to my parents.”

“What a coincidence,” Bitty said. “I just talked to mine.”

“I wanted to know if it was ok if told my parents about us,” Jack said. “I didn’t tonight, because we hadn’t discussed it, but I wanted to. It’s fine with me if you told your parents, or if you want to.”

Bitty sat up the way he did when something surprised him (and Jack loved that he already knew that) and said, “Jack, my parents don’t know.”

“About what?” Jack said.

“About me,” Bitty said. “They don’t know I’m gay.”

“But you said you’d known since you were a kid,” Jack said. “And Shitty knew, and Lardo, so I guess your college team did?”

“Yes, all of that, but just because I knew doesn’t mean I told anyone here,” Bitty said. “Jack. this is a small town in Georgia. What’s more, I’m the football coach’s kid. I can’t be gay here. It wouldn’t be good for me. Heck, it could cost Coach his job, unless he publicly disowned me or something.”

“That makes no sense,” Jack said. “How could your sexual orientation have anything to do with your dad’s job?”

“It doesn’t, but there are people who would think that they made me gay or something, or that my being gay is a punishment visited upon my parents,” Bitty said. “My dad serves at the pleasure of the school board. They don’t need a real reason to let him go. I mean, he’s the winningest coach they ever had, so I don’t think they would, but that wouldn’t matter if the team turned on him,”

“But can’t you at least tell your parents?” said Jack, recalling some of the fond memories Bitty had shared with him after the game in Washington. “Even if you don’t tell anyone else. Keeping secrets like that -- it can’t be good for you.”

Bitty shrugged and didn’t look exactly at the camera. “I’m not sure how they would take it,” he said. “I mean, if they don’t already know, they suspect, but they never bring it up, and neither do I. Anyway, I told them at dinner that I’m leaving for Houston next week. It’s not like I’m really out there, but even as a member of the Aeros, people are paying less attention to what I do than they do here. And I’m pretty sure Ricks and Pops know, or at least think I’m gay, and they don’t care.

“So then Mama and Coach all but accused me of being too big for my britches, wanting to move away. Until I said I wanted to train with the strength coach to make it more likely I’ll make the team out of camp next year. Once it was about sports, Coach was all for it.”

Jack stopped and thought about the Aeros he knew -- Pops, of course, and Gus and Monty -- and said, “The ones I know are good guys. I wouldn’t expect any of them to give you a problem. If you wanted to be out-out, like publicly, I’m not sure how the marketing people would take it.”

“What about you?” Bitty asked Jack. “Marty knows. Anyone else?”

“My parents,” said Jack. “And I was in a relationship with someone else who ended up in the league, but it was a long time ago. I’m pretty sure other guys know, or at least think I’m not straight. But I’ve been around a while. I guess I’m not saying I’m ready to be out either, but if it happened, I’d be ok. Your position is a little tougher.”

“I know,” Bitty said.

“We’ll be as careful as you need to be,” Jack said, and felt a lump rise in his throat at what he was about to say next. “But are you sure you want to do this? I want to, but I’ll understand if you don’t. No one has to know anything happened between us.”

“Hush, you,” Bitty said, giving a small but genuine smile. “Of course I do. I don’t invite just anyone out for late-night falafel. I’m sorry I’m so serious.”

Jack smiled in relief and changed the subject.

“Why do you have a poster of Patrick Chan on your wall?”

“You don’t know Beyonce and you know Patrick Chan?” Bitty asked.

“I am from Canada,” Jack said. “I was at Sochi.”

“Of course you were,” Bitty said. “Wait -- do you actually know him?”

Jack shrugged.

“We’ve met,” he said.

*****************************************

The next day was more of the same for Jack: fuel his body, rest, bond with his team, until the game started.

This game was a disaster. The Falconers weren’t shut out, but it was a near thing. Thirdy scored a meaningless goal five minutes before the end of the game, but at 4-1 it already felt out of reach.

When it was over, Jack tapped Snowy’s helmet and said, “That wasn’t on you, man.”

It wasn’t. Maybe one of the goals was a little soft, but other times Snowy stood on his head to bail out his team. Anyway, all wins were team wins and all losses were team losses.

Since it was a matinee, the team cleaned up and boarded the bus to head directly to the airport and go home, preparing for a game Tuesday night.

Most of the veterans -- the guys Jack’s age or older -- were looking forward to their own beds, and many of them couldn’t wait to see their wives and kids. Some were looking to reconnect with their girlfriends.

Mats told them they had tonight off; after that, they’d be sequestered in a hotel until the next game, because no one needed to be getting up to handle 2 a.m. feedings or soothe restless toddlers or “indulging in other late-night activities,” Mats said, the night before the most important game of the season so far.

Jack was pretty sure he was the only one flying further from the person he wanted to see, and pretty sure he was the only one who was wishing he could spend time with his boyfriend. Was Bitty his boyfriend yet? Jack wanted him to be.

Marty sat next to him on the plane.

Using the cover of the engine noise, he leaned closer to Jack.

“How’re things with Bitty?”

“Good,” Jack said, because despite an awkward conversation the night before, they were good. He really liked Bitty, was pretty sure that he could love Bitty given half a chance. “He’s really good. We’re going to try to make something work.”

“I’m happy for you,” Marty said. “How long have you been here? Seven years? This is the first time I’ve seen your head turned. Pops says he’s a good kid.”

“About that,” Jack said. “Is it going to be ok, Pops knowing about this? I mean, I trust you, and Pops has always seemed like a good guy. But Bitty’s new in the league, and they might not want someone that seems like he’s rocking the boat.”

“Nah, you don’t have to worry about Pops,” Marty said. “He wants Bitty to be happy, and he wants Bitty to be happy there. What about his friend Ricks?”

“Bitty thinks he’s fine,” Jack said. “But he hasn’t told either of them defininitively.”

Marty shrugged.

“Maybe keep it that way for a little while? Not that I think there’s a problem, but the more people know …”

“I know,” Jack said. “But thanks. For telling me to go for it.”

“Whatever you need, kiddo,” Marty said.

“Oh -- I hope you don’t mind,” Jack said. “I gave Bitty your phone number. He said he wants to know your favorite kind of pie. But don’t expect it until we’re done playing.”

Marty laughed.

“Tell him peach,” Marty said. “And he can call me anytime.”

[lena-went]

Chiaro e Scuro Pt 2

F: I had just put the finishing touches on the set up of the dining table, crimson place settings and napkins accented with gold finishes that matched the plates we would be using. I ran my hands through my hair in frustration. When I heard the doorbell ring my heart dropped to my feet. I was petrified, so many firsts were about to happen. She was seeing my house for the first time, she was actually one of the few people I had ever allowed inside my impersonal sanctuary. 

During my recovery from Gideon's attempt on my life I had a male nurse looking after me a few hours each day but that was the last time I had seen anyone else besides myself in this house. The maid and groundskeeper would always come by during the day when I was at the hospital and I left checks for them either on the kitchen counter or in the mailbox. 

How long had she been waiting at the front door? I quickly grabbed my cane from against the bar where it was resting and checked my reflection briefly in the glass of the oven. I opened the door and my jaw dropped.

There she stood back towards me gazing at something in the distance. As she turned to face me everything around me slowed down and took on a blur except for her. She smiled playfully and leaned forward to give me a quick peck on the cheek. 

“Hello Frederick.” Dressed in a long sleeved dark green silk dress that nearly touched the ground she was a holy sight.

 My breath caught in my chest when her hand touched my chest as she walked past me into the house. 

“So…a tour first or dinner?” She inquired as she placed her purse on the glass table in the center of the foyer. 

I remembered myself and quickly shut the door. 

“Which would you prefer?” I asked praying for her to skip the tour. 

She must have sensed my urgency to begin dinner and suggested that we eat first. I smiled though I was filled with anxieties about the quality of my cooking and the quality of the evening. I led her into the kitchen which also doubled as the dining room not for lack of space but rather for a lack of guests. I pulled out one of the modern dark wood chairs for her and she thanked me and sat down. I purposely gave her the chair that caused her to look outside rather than at the wall. The wall was intended to showcase art but I hadn't gotten around to buying something to fill the space and thus it was empty and cold…like the rest of the house. 

She began a light conversation as I prepared and carried our plates to the table. She gasped slightly when I placed the dish in front of her and then praised me on the presentation and setting of the table. I poured us both a glass of wine (2008 Torbreck Shiraz The Laird) and took my seat opposite her. I leaned forward eagerly waiting for her to take her first bite. As she did I watched as she closed her eyes and sighed. 

“Frederick, this is amazing.” She praised. 

My heart did summersaults as she quickly took another bite and repeated her previous compliment. 

“Where did you learn to cook like this?” I smiled as I took a bite of my own food. 

“Some people are just naturally gifted in the culinary arts.” I smugly replied. I noticed her suppress a giggle with a quick sip of wine as I puffed out my chest and leaned back in my chair. 

“And you learned from one of those naturally gifted people?” She teased and I felt a slight blush rise to my cheeks. 

I took a gulp of my wine as I caught her gaze over the candles in the center of the table and saw the playful look in her eyes. She had a way of teasing me that never felt like humiliation, opposite to how I felt with everyone else. Just looking at her I felt so many emotions swelling like balloons inside of me. We fell into conversation about her day at work and in turn my week at the hospital.

 As I attempted to make a boring week at BSHCI seem interesting she nodded and paid attention occasionally offering advice or commentary when appropriate. I told her a story about one of my first patients who had random yet repetitive hallucinations of green cows and she laughed so hard she had to fan her eyes to avoid crying, resulting in me feeling as if I was on top of the world. Eventually we finished our food she insisted on helping me clean up the dishes.

After we had finished and the kitchen was once again spotless she turned to me expectantly. 

“Tour?” I rolled my eyes and sighed dramatically in fake exasperation. 

“Please?” She begged with wide eyes and a puppy dog like pout on her lips. 

“Yes, yes ok.” I replied fully knowing I was incapable of denying her anything. 

I led her first back into the foyer and introduced her to the rooms that radiated off it. Most were sparse with only a few pieces of furniture and a piano but she still complimented what was there. Then back to the kitchen where she marveled at the light fixtures and smiled when I told her the story of the artist who made them. 

She inquired about the pool and I sighed and replied that the previous owner had installed it and that I would have greatly preferred a garden. I had used the pool once in the time that I’ve lived in the house, it had proven to be a nuisance especially in the fall when all the trees above it would drop their leaves conveniently into it’s waiting waters. 

Moving fairly quickly I showed her what I used as a living room but was really just a corner off the kitchen where I had a large leather couch and a flat screen. As we continued downstairs she gasped when she saw my wine collection. To be fair to myself wine was something I knew I could rival Hannibal Lecter in. After dropping from medical school I had briefly considered becoming a sommelier but at the urging of my father I went back to school for psychiatry. 

There were a few other rooms downstairs, another kitchen, two guest rooms and a bathroom. All very unimpressive and sparsely decorated. I apologized numerous times for that but she rolled her eyes in response every time even once groaning dramatically.

I led her up the stairs in the foyer and I felt my heart beating faster. I hoped it didn't seem suggestive or predatory that I was showing her my bedroom. I reminded myself that this was simply a house tour, no different than a realtor leading a possible buyer through a house. A few more guest rooms and then my room. I took a breath as I pushed open the massive double fogged white doors. 

My bedroom didn't match the rest of the house, where the rest of the house was light my bedroom was dark. The emerald green curtains that hung from the large window at the end of the room darkened the space by preventing even the light from the street lamps outside from getting in. I watched as she entered carefully and looked around slowly with a slight smile. The room was accented with dark mahogany and the walls like the curtains were a dark shade of green. 

I observed her movements and realized how much she belonged in this room. The silk of her dress perfectly blended with the colors around her as she gently ran her fingers along the duvet and blanket I had carefully arranged on my bed. My heart nearly stopped watching her do this and I could hardly believe any of this was real. No other woman had ever gotten this far or even tried to. In the silence I cleared my throat and suggested we go back downstairs and open another bottle of wine. She turned back to me and nodded her agreement.

Soon we were both seated on my leather sofa drinking a very expensive bottle of wine and discussing our favorite vintages like two old men in a country club. I laughed as she pointed this out. The conversation then changed to our favorite films and both of us couldn't decide resulting in many laughs and a lively debate on the true meaning of The Shining. 

Once again the conversation rotated to a discussion of soundtracks in film and she sat up quickly and while waving her hands excitedly pulled out her phone so that I could listen to some of her favorite music. I turned on the TV so that she could project the music through the surround sound speakers which were finally being put to good use. First on her list of songs I must hear was Page 47 from the National Treasure soundtrack. I watched as she leaned back into the sofa and closed her eyes. About 30 seconds in I was completely swallowed into the luxurious whine of the violin and the look on her face as she soaked in the sound. Her chest moved heavily up and down as she took deep breaths feeling the vibrations from the orchestra as it began. Simply by observing her I felt every note deeply each one reminding me of just how wonderfully perceptive she was. As the song ended she took a deep breath and then her eyes fluttered open. 

“Couldn’t you feel that?” She whispered reaching for my hand. 

“Y-yes.” I stuttered back trying to regain my composure. 

Next on her playlist was First Kiss by Abel Korzeniowski, she highly praised him and a series he had scored called Penny Dreadful. I raised an eyebrow at the name but smiled and took a sip of my wine as she hit play once more. The soft sounds of the piano began and she leaned close to me so that I could feel her breath on my neck. 

“Close your eyes.” Her voice was barely audible yet still flowed like honey as it mirrored the notes of the song. 

I did so hesitantly as she removed the wine glass from my hands.

I focused on the sounds of the piano and strings until she spoke, “What do you see?” 

In truth I had journeyed back to the day we had met. The glow of the sun in her hair, her rosy lips and oh god her eyes, how they took my breath away. 

“Y-you. I see you.” I felt her move across me settling to straddle my lap at which I normally would have startled but the combination of the music and her hands in my hair kept me frozen. 

“And what do you feel?” Her breathy tone sent a shiver up my spine as her nails gently grazed my scalp. I could no longer form words as the piano and the touches overwhelmed me. Tears began to fall from my closed eyes and I felt her cup my cheek softly. 

“Frederick…” As she breathed my name my eyes opened to meet hers which were now only inches away. 

Holding my face she pulled me to her with a passionate kiss. My tears met her hands as I raised mine to hold her tightly to me. The heat from her body met mine and for a moment I forgot that we were two separate people. I took a shaky breath as she separated from me and stroked my cheek. I pulled her to me again just to feel her body against mine. I choked back a sob as her hands tenderly wrapped around me and cradled my head softly against her chest. I buried myself in her for those moments finally feeling safe. 

She slowly pulled me to lay with her on the couch holding me close all the while. We were facing one another so intimately it was impossible to hide. She traced my jaw with a delicate finger and kissed me ever so softly. Here I was falling apart in her arms and she had no idea why. She had been so impossibly kind. Kissing me again brought me back to her and the present. I treasured it and pulled her even closer tangling my fingers in her hair and caressing her soft cheek. 

The song had long ago ended and yet the music somehow remained. Neither of us speaking yet there was a silent spiritual dialogue between our souls. Soon we both fell asleep, our breath synchronizing as the world around us past and present faded away.

[haikyuu-bros]

So yesterday was Tsuki’s bday and so can you write me a scenario of Tsuki and his SO celebrating their bday together?? Like they have the same bday and everything?? I wouldn’t mind if it’s nsfw?? Like go wild with it.

Osu! Aged up!Tsukishima

Tsukishima never liked parties. To him, they were too loud for him. For his birthday, they were inevitable. He can’t do anything about them but just to act(not really) surprised and thank everyone that showed up.

Though, this year is special. Of course, it’s his birthday. But it’s also his significant other’s birthday. Them, on the other hand, love parties. Nobody knows how they work out. They’re classified as a social butterfly, and Tsukki, well, he just stands there while they do the talking. However, it’s the day of their birthdays. Both of them said happy birthday to each other when they saw each other in the morning. It’s been a few months since they moved into Tsukishima’s apartment by their university they go to. It’s a Sunday and of course, both of their friends want a party. It’s Tsukki’s 23rd Birthday and it’s their 21st birthday. They met exactly two days after their birthday. It was cute how they met. It was their first day of uni and they were lost. They ended up in the wrong class but they didn’t know until after ten minutes into the class. They bolted out the class to their actual classroom. Where they found Tsukki. He was sitting in the back of the class when they popped in secretly behind him. They say next him as casual as they can then let out a sigh. Tsukishima looks at them but doesn’t look away. They noticed him and they smile. “Hi. I’m S/O/N. What did I miss?”

After that, they were inseparable. And now, after three years. Hundreds of texts messages, over 50 dates, over 50 phone calls, a million kisses, a couple fights, finally saying I love you(which was Tsukki’s doing of saying it first), finally trusting each other and sharing more intimate bonds and feelings. Three years of shared birthdays. Tsukishima can’t comprehend it yet. He walked out of the bathroom, to the kitchen to see his S/O cooking up something on the stovetop, their phone playing a playlist that Tsukki made for them the other day and the Keureg pouring out something delicious. Their phone being lit up every ten minutes by texts messages from friends and family, his phone doing the same thing but he left his phone in the bathroom. He leans against the door frame then crosses his arms and stares. He watches them being in their own little world as the fry up food and take sips of coffee in his coffee mug. His smile forms when they began to hum the song that’s currently playing. He likes it when they sing. He likes it when they belt out the wrong lyrics then gets embarrassed when they do. He likes their shy smile whenever they kiss or hold hands. He likes their large smile they have whenever they find something funny or when the two of them are playfully talking smack about each other. He likes to see them act small. Cuddle up next to him whenever it gets cold or they’re watching an intense movie. He likes it when they cry. How red their nose gets after sniffling. How their lip quivers and forms a pout. How they try to push him away when he tries to comfort them. He especially likes mornings like these. Quiet mornings. If they wake up early and they don’t want to get out of bed, they’ll just lay there, talk about something really weird. Eventually they’ll get up or have a sensual morning sex session, they’ll laugh together then make food for their appetite. He likes mornings with them especially. He loves them. 

S/O finally noticed him there by the door and smiles. 

“Are you ready for tonight?” They ask happily. He breaks out of his position and walks up to them before shrugging. “’Have no choice.” He leans against the counter next to them as they cook.

They talk about today’s plans before the party at 7. They talk about presents. They talking about everything until breakfast was ready. After that, it’s quiet except for the munching and outside world, their own little world being silent compared to the outside. Tsukishima likes this too. 

After the party, after everyone has gone home either drunk or the destinated drivers, after cleaning up, the couple got dressed, showered and about to get ready for bed. It was only 11. They got presents from their friends. Even some gag gifts from Tsukki’s life long friend. He’s currently sitting on the edge of his bed, juggling his own present for his mate in his hands. He’s nervous. He doesn’t know why though. Of course, he has a right yo be nervous. He’s asking himself if it’s too early for this type of present. He snaps out of it when he hears the bathroom door open by his room. He stands up and immediately hides his small gift in his sweatpants pocket. 

“Oh, I thought you went to the living room.” They stated when they walked in. Tsukishima shrugs casually and walks up to them and wraps an arm around their waist. 

“Just waiting for you. How you feeling?” He ask. They turn in front of him and wrap their arms around his neck. 

“Clean. Another birthday passes by.” He nods and looks at them. Fuck it. 

“I got you something.” They look at him, surprised. He backs up just a bit and pulls out the present. A small square box. He takes a breather before finally opening the box in between the two of them. He hears them audibly gasp. 

“Kei..is that a-”

“I’m not proposing.” He buts in. Well. “Not yet at least.” His mouth forms a tiny smile. He takes the ring out then grabs their right hand and places it on their ring finger. “Maybe next year.” He looks down at their hand and caresses it with his own. 

“I’m not good with speeches. Or talking at all. But for you, I’ll make an exception.” He pauses. “I…I’m happy. I haven’t been able to say that since..ever.” He looks up at them and they nod, tears welling up in their eyes. “I’ve grown up since then. I’ve become more of an open person, even if I don’t look like I am. I talk more than I did when I was in high school. I..I think because of you, I am the person I am today. So, thanks..for dealing with my quiet demeanor. These three years together…mean a lot to me. You taught me how to be a normal person. Three years…together..” he feels a small lump in his throat but quickly swallows it. “I don’t regret anything that has to deal with you. I don’t regret talking to you on the first day of college. Nothing. I..I love you. I think I won’t ever stop either. I’m also sorry that I don’t say it more. You know, it’s hard for me. I’m still learning.” He takes a firm grasp of their hand and they squeeze too. There’s tears in their cheeks as they look at him. 

“Kei…I don’t know what to say.” They choke out a little. Tsukishima looks at them then smirks. He closes the gap of them and kisses them softly. 

One kiss turns into two. Two turns in multiple. Eventually…eventually, they’re on the bed. As they share another kiss then taking each other’s clothes off, Kei’s heart is pounding and small tickles form in his stomach. When he finally enters them, the gasp they make, he’s hypnotized by the feeling of pure love and softness of their skin. When their gasps becomes more erratic and they’re chanting his name louder under him, he makes it a duty to always treasure this moment. Lust mixed with intimacy and pure love. He wants to hold onto this feeling forever. He wants them to be with him forever. He sees how the ring glints against the lamp when they grip onto a pillow. Next year for sure. 

They’re laying bed, Kei’s arm around them as they cuddle the side of them. It’s silent but it’s a comfortable silence. He’s happy. He makes small talk with them and they’re dnafing about going to bed already. It’s past midnight and they have classes at ten. Tsukki rubs his fingers in their hair then kisses the top. 

“Make sure to remind me to buy an engagement ring next year.” He announces. They hum and cuddle against him more. 

“Will do.” They smile up at him and he returns the smile. 

“You’re suppose to say I do.” He teases and they laugh lightly. 

“I do.” He smiles again. 

“Me too.” 

Next year, there’s a ring around their left ring finger and he doesn’t regret this, I promised. He loves them. And they are beautiful. 

[buckywintersoldierbarnes2017]

I Thought You Hated Me - Part 1

Request from @brieflybigwonderland​: Hi! Not sure if it is too soon to be asking for requests with you just starting this blog but you did an amazing job with the one I sent to your primary blog so I know you will with this one 😀 I'm thinking that reader works with The Avengers and she gets along with them all....apart from Bucky. They seem to hate each other and one night end up being the only ones in the gym, insults soon get thrown into the mix but then something changes and the situation gets more....hot? ❤ haha!

Note: So this is my first time writing any kind of smut so I hope I have done this request some kind of justice. I stopped before it got too long so if anyone wants more just let me know...I rather enjoyed writing this <3 I hope this isn’t too terrible!

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 1721

Warning: Smut and slight dub-con.

Disclaimer: None of the GIFs used are mine. All credit goes to their creators <3

It had been a couple of years since you started working with S.H.I.E.L.D and The Avengers and you couldn’t have been happier. Each member of the team had become like your family and given that you had grown up without one for the majority of your childhood this meant a lot to you; there wasn’t a single person that you couldn’t confide in, spill your secrets to, even Tony Stark was occasionally a good listener....even if the conversation soon turned to him.

But then he wouldn’t be Tony if he didn’t boost his own ego.

Life couldn’t have been any better really. But then James ‘Bucky’ Barnes came along and it wasn’t long before things started to turn sour. Before you had spoken so much as a single word to him he had decided he didn’t like you – that much was clear by the death glare his sharp blue eyes had thrown in your direction the moment he stepped into the lobby of the building.

You had been there to greet him, show him around the facilities that were now on offer to him, but he wanted nothing to do with you. Receiving no more than an annoyed grunt from him all you could do was watch with a rather confused look on your face as he pushed past you and headed towards where Steve was stood.

All your friend could do was shrug his broad shoulders and mouth “I’m sorry” to you as he turned to walk Bucky through the tour you were supposed to give him.

Over the months that passed it didn’t get any better either. Each time you walked into the main living area you all frequented for get togethers or movie marathons if Bucky was there he would soon stand up and leave the room. His eyes never once met with yours when he did either, of course none of the others really knew what was going on so they all looked just as dumbfounded as you did every time he stormed off.

It bothered you at first, as it would anyone, but eventually you just learned to shrug his behaviour off and leave him to it. He was the one that looked like the fool, not you. Every other member of the team knew that you hadn’t done anything wrong and their opinion was all that mattered to you. THEY were your family.....not him.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us [y/n]?” Natasha, dressed up to the nines, sauntered up to you in her heels and wrapped an arm around your shoulder to pull you into her close. “It’s not every day we get some downtime and you deserve it just as much as we do.”

Wanda wandered past while fixing her hair up into a bun, hair pins held between her teeth, and mumbled an agreement with the redhead.

“Guys, look, I appreciate that you want me to go. Really I do. But if I am perfectly honest I just want to have a quiet night, maybe even hit the gym for a bit.”

Her brows furrowed now as her bottom lip pulled itself out into an overexaggerated pout. When it became clear that you were pretty adamant on your decision a frustrated sigh left her.

“Fine! You can stay in and be a bore but you are making up for it the next time we go out.”

“Yes, yes, I know. I pinky promise that I will be more fun next time. Now, go on, have a good night.”

You watched as they left for the night, assuming that all the boys were meeting them downstairs in the lobby, and once you found yourself alone you head over to your room to change for the gym.

                                        * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Dressed in your tight, black, yoga bottoms and a loose fitting grey vest you stuck your earphones into each of your ears and hit ‘play’ on you iPhone before you had even reached the level which held the gym.

The other didn’t even need anything to motivate them WHILE they were working out, could do so without any kind of music being played in their ears, but you? Well.....you need motivation before you even set foot on the first piece of equipment. It was a good job you were never out in the field because bulking up at the gym really wasn’t your thing at all. The only thing it was good for in your eyes was just letting off a bit of steam.

You had been fidgeting around with your phone, changing it to the next song, so your attentions were elsewhere as you wandered through the doors that led into the gym so the fact that there was someone else there didn’t strike you at all.

It was only when you found yourself colliding with something hard that you let your eyes travel up from the music playlist you had been scoring through and immediately you wished you hadn’t.

“You? Seriously?”

The next song wasn’t yet playing so you didn’t just hear his words you heard the sheer disgust that radiated from them. It was like you had just rolled in a whole heap of shit and then walked in here with it still covering you. You had to bite down onto your tongue to stop yourself from saying anything as you walked past him and headed towards the treadmill.

“Can’t you go bother someone else?”

That was the last straw now. You had only come here to de-stress. You turned on the balls of your feet so quick that you almost stumbled backwards but, luckily, you managed to correct yourself before your words poured out in an angry eruption.

“What the hell is your problem Bucky?! I haven’t done a damn thing to you!” You ripped out each of your earphones, placing them on top of the water tower that was at the side of you, before closing the gap between the two of you. “I am so sick of your attitude towards me!”

His eyes narrowed dangerously as you extended a single finger out and poked it into his chest as though your words alone weren’t enough to show your anger towards him.

Before you could land a second poke on him you heard a whir of machinery as his metal arm raised up and wrapped around the top of your arm as he drove you up against the nearest wall. Your back hit it with such force that your very breath was taken from your lungs for a few moments.

“You want to know my problem doll? You are so goddamn beautiful that the second I saw you I knew you were going to be a distraction! A distraction in this job could get me killed!”

Both of his hands rested on the wall at either side of your head, boxing you in so you couldn’t move away from him, and the eyes that normally looked at you with such disgust and annoyance now seemed to be lapping up every inch of you. The top half of him was naked, glistening with sweat from his workout and you had to fight to keep your eyes from wandering over ever toned muscle that decorated his torso. Instead you focused on your confusion to distract yourself from doing so.

“Wh-Why would that make you hate me?”

“Oh I don’t hate you....quite the opposite in fact...” The tip of his tongue escaped his mouth and ran along his bottom lip causing your heart to skip a little as your nerves began to take over. “...I was just trying to avoid this kind of situation from happening.”

Bucky Barnes had always been rather intimidating to be near and to now be pinned against a wall and have his face so close to yours you found yourself trembling. Even your breaths were short and quick as you tried to control yourself around him.

“I-I don’t....I don’t understand.”

“You bring out a dangerous side of me [y/n].” His right hand moved from where it had been beside your head and landed onto your shoulder where his fingertips ran along the length of your collar bone before dipping underneath the top of your vest causing your breath to catch in your throat. “I want to touch every inch of you. Taste every inch....”

 His voice was almost predatory, his eyes not so much as blinking as he continued to stare at you intensely, his hand cradling your breast so that his thumb and forefinger could squeeze the hardening nipple. Before you were able to stop yourself an audible gasp left your lips. A reaction which brought a satisfied moan from Bucky’s before he forced them onto yours in a rough kiss.

It happened so fast that for the first few seconds your eyes were wide with shock but as his lips continued to smother your and his hand massaged your breast you soon melted into it and allowed yourself to enjoy the sensations he was bringing out in you.

The cold feeling of metal could soon be felt running across your stomach as he slipped his metal hand underneath your top and made his way towards the waistband of your yoga bottoms.

“Bu-Bucky.” Prising your lips apart from his an annoyed growl escaped him as his eyes darkened with lust. “We shouldn’t....be doing this....”

Almost like he hadn’t heard your words his metal hand slipped underneath the fabric of both your bottoms and your knickers and cupped your wet core. His lips tugged up into a smirk as he felt just how wet you were.

“Your body is saying otherwise [y/n].”

In one swift movement the hand that had been at your breast removed itself and wrapped around your waist instead to pick you up. With his super strength he moved you over to one of the benches around the room and lay you down on it carefully. His metal hand never left your core so that his fingers could rub against you. The action alone was enough to have your arching your back as though your body was aching for him.....begging his fingers to slip inside you.

“I’m going to make you feel things you have never felt before doll.”

[ieechans]

Spring of Life | Oneshot

Summary: He was like the season of Spring: he brought life back into the dead wasteland left behind by your Winter. He was your equilibrium; he was made for you.  Word Count: 7,163 Genre: angst, fluff if you look hard enough, android!au Member: Lee “Woozi” Jihoon  TW: none i can think of! tell me if i need anything tagged

A/N: i opened my playlist from better times while i was in middle school and found the song that made me the happiest. inspired by perfume’s spring of life music video. the song has nothing to do with this, but it’s still good. i’m slowly working on getting better, i really hope i’ll be back soon

You popped a cold french fry into your mouth and chewed slowly, you eyes scanning over the three computer monitors spread across your workspace. You reached out with your clean hand and swiped through the screens on the display, tapping to replace a few numbers. You pressed the button that prompted you to confirm your changes, and you turned your head to look through the window of the testing room. The metal “ring” that you installed on one of their fingers slowly began to light up.

Your eyes widened as the light got brighter, and you swore you saw the twitch of a finger. You excitedly took a step over to the computer monitor with your notes and pulled open a new document. Just as you began to record your findings, the light on your subject’s ring began to blink rapidly, and then disappear completely. Your face fell upon seeing the plain, shiny material of the ring and you swiped the screen, scrapping the document.

You let out a dejected sigh as you threw yourself into your office chair, spinning around a couple of times before rolling back to your main desk. You sadly picked up a french fry and nibbled on the end, going over the hard copy of your notes to see where you messed up. You wiped your fingers on your lab coat before picking up a pen and harshly crossing out the number 1121 on your list of subjects.

You then rolled you and your chair over to your computer workspace, pulling up a screen on the main display. You looked over the screen before finding the option you needed and held your finger on it.

“Send in the next subject, Cheol,” you said.

“Another dud?” he asked through the speakers. “Not even a small sign of life?”

“Their ring lit up and then sputtered out. We might be close,” you responded.

“That’s the sixteenth subject we’ve tested today,” Seungcheol groaned, his impatience clearly audible. “Let’s just call it a day, it’s already ten and that burger I ate wasn’t as filling as I thought it was.”

You pursed your lips as you scribbled over your notes, adjusting a few numbers. “If you’re tired then you can go home. Just send in the next subject for me and I’ll take care of the rest.”

“This is your problem, Y/N,” Seungcheol grunted, likely readying the next subject. “You always overwork yourself.” You heard a particularly loud thud from Seungcheol’s end and a small beep followed.

“I promise I’ll just test this one and then head home. It’s going to be a dud anyways,” you sighed, watching as your older brother stepped through the secured entrance of the testing room. He wheeled in a large metal box, the front panel made of glass to reveal the subject inside.

“You better not be lying this time around. Dad’ll kill me if he finds out I went home without you. I’ll be going then.”

“Yeah, whatever,” you said, rolling your eyes. “We’re only a year apart, geezer.”

Before you could hear Seungcheol’s response, you lifted your finger from the screen to cut off the connection. You smirked at him through the window, a scowl on his face as the left the testing room. The metal security door slid shut behind him and you got up from your chair to go set up the subject.

You held your identification card to the scanner until you heard a beep and pushed the door open. You walked over to the metal box and punched in the security code into the number pad. There was a small hiss before the glass panel unlocked and swung itself open, the test subject slowly being ejected from the box.

You pushed your glasses further up your nose as you examined the features of the subject. His hair was made to imitate bleached blonde hair, and not a single imperfection was found on his fair skin. There was something about his countenance that reminded you of a fairy. You found yourself smiling as you subconsciously brushed his bangs away from his eyes and straightened out the plain white t-shirt that he was wearing.

You then bent over a bit to examine the “ring” installed on his finger, making sure it was perfectly in place. As odd as it seemed, you noticed he had pretty hands. You straightened yourself up and moved to view his back where the ports for all the cables were located. After a quick inspection, you concluded that he was in perfect condition.

You reached over to the wall where a mess of white cords hung from the ceiling. Despite this, your hands moved on their own as you picked up each cable and plugged it into its respective port. You then picked out the last and most crucial cord and placed it in the top center port. You carefully lifted the few strands of hair at the nape of his neck to examine his number: 1122.

You then left the testing room, shutting the door behind you. Once more, you popped a french fry into your mouth as you picked up the hard copy of your notes, briskly walking over to your computer monitors. After a quick adjustment of numbers and a few taps, you pressed the “Confirm Changes” option and started the program.

You stared intently at the ring, hoping that it would at least flicker to show you weren’t getting further from your result. In fact, you stared for a good five minutes before calling it quits and packing up your stuff. You absentmindedly stuffed your notes back into your file case with one hand while your other hand began to save the documents on your screen. What you failed to do, however, was properly end the program. Just as you pulled open the door that lead to the main hallway of the lab, you took a quick glance back to notice your main monitor still running.

You let out a groan as you trudged over, not wanting to be reminded of your failure and also not wanting to be tempted to try another subject. Your finger ghosted over the “End Program” option before you saw a flicker in your peripheral vision.

Your eyes immediately went up, looking through the testing room window. Sure enough, a faint light was apparent on the ring of the subject’s finger. You gasped as the light got brighter, the flickering coming to a full stop. You watched in awe as you saw the subject’s stiff posture began to relax, the soft rise and fall of his chest imitating the act of breathing.

The voice at the back of your head told you to call Seungcheol immediately, but you did otherwise. You stepped away from your computer and rushed over to the door of the testing room. The scanner almost couldn’t read your identification card seeing as your hands were shaking from excitement. You waited for what felt like an eternity until you heard the beep, and you threw the door open. You stood right in front of the subject in disbelief, praying that what you were seeing was real. His eyes fluttered open to reveal warm brown irises, confirming your hopes.

The subject stared at you blankly, their expression not once wavering. You stared back, still convinced it was a dream.

“H-hello,” you blurted, suddenly remembering that you had to file a report on the subject.

“Hello,” he replied, his face set in stone.

“What is your name?”

“I do not have a name yet, but my identification number is 1122.” Something about his voice set you at ease. He didn’t sound like a robot, for sure.

“Do you know your purpose? What were you made for?” you asked, recalling the list of questions on the neglected pages of notes hidden in the very back of your file case.

“I was made to serve Pledis Laboratories. I was made to serve the public.”

“And what is it that we do?”

“Create new inventions to better the lives of the people.”

His responses were identical to those on your notes. You nodded slowly, reaching out to take his hand. You lifted it up to eye level and began to examine the ring. The light was stable and bright, just as it should have been.

“Can you tell me who I am?”

The subject looked at your face, his pupils dilating. There was a five-second pause before he continued to speak. “Choi Y/N. Co-head researcher of the Android Department at Pledis Laboratories. Younger sister of fellow co-head researcher Choi Seungcheol. Daughter of Pledis Laboratories CEO –”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” you said, cutting off his response. You didn’t expect for them to load that much of the company profiles into their system. “Hold still while I check up on you, alright?”

You felt the subject freeze up completely and you let out a laugh. “Not literally, dude.”

“‘Dude’?” the subject asked, their head cocking slightly to mock the way you did when you asked questions. “Is that my name?”

“No, but think of it like a nickname,” you mused, entertained by the subject’s curiosity.

“Then what is my name?”

You hummed, pausing to tap your chin. “How do you feel about Woozi?”

“Woozy? An adjective meaning dazed, dizzy, and unsteady?”

“Yeah, but with an ‘i’ instead of a ‘y’,” you responded, reaching up to straighten out a strand of hair on the top of his head. “Seungcheol used to call me that all the time because I’d fall asleep from working so much.”

“That is your name, then. Not mine.”

“It can be your nickname.”

“My nickname is ‘dude’. You told me so.”

“You can have more than one nickname, and ‘dude’ is a nickname for everyone,” you giggled. You then gave him a warm smile. “Your name will be Jihoon then. It means to know your service.”

“Jihoon,” he repeated, blinking at you a few times before a smile appeared on his face, copying yours. “Thank you, Y/N.”

You went up the marble staircase of your home, your steps echoing throughout the virtually empty home. When you reached the top, you headed down the hall and approached your older brother’s room, trying to sort out how you’d tell him the big news. You gently knocked on his door and waited for his muffled response to allow you entrance.

“Hey Cheol, I got some news –”

“As do I,” he muttered in response. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. He didn’t even change out of his dress shirt and slacks yet, and he barely lifted his head to look at you. From the look on his face, he hadn’t slept at all since he had gotten home hours before you.

“You first, then,” you replied quietly, taking a seat next to him. If his news was bad, then you figured your news would make it better.

“Dad called when I got home,” he began, letting out a sigh. “Asked for progress on the Androids. I told him we were on subject 1122 and he flipped. Told me we were wasting money in this department when it could be spent elsewhere.”

“But he was the one that suggested the idea,” you mumbled under your breath.

“Yeah, but I guess he didn’t expect for us to take this long. It’s not like we’re producing artificial life or anything,” he scoffed. “Either way, he’s putting a pause on Android research until Spring.”

Your eyes widened. “But Cheol –”

“He’s closing off the entire ward. That includes your section of the lab, too. He knows you’re going find try to a way back.”

You pouted at your circumstances, and your mind trailed back to Jihoon. You were unsure if you wanted to tell your brother the news at this point. Jihoon’s success meant more complications between him and your father, but it also meant progress in research. “W-what if I told you there was a subject plugged in and ready to go?”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes. “Ha ha, you’re so funny, Y/N. An actual subject that works, you really got me there.”

“I’m telling you the truth, Seungcheol,” you said, offended by the fact that he didn’t believe you.

“I don’t know if that’s your way of trying to make me feel better, but it’s not,” Seungcheol grumbled, falling back onto his bed. “That area’s closed anyways, it’s not like you could prove it to me.”

You opened your mouth to retaliate, but Seungcheol held up his finger.

“If you trespass, Dad won’t be happy. That means I won’t be happy.”

You let out a huff. “Seungcheol, I swear Jihoon works perfectly. I pretty much went through the whole identification process with him.”

“Jihoon? You named the subject? You’re really elaborate with your lies, Y/N.”

“Cheol!”

“Dad has the final say!” he boomed, clearly tired of, well – everything. “I’m being sent to one of our labs back home in Daegu. You’re staying here in Seoul.”

You jumped out of your seat and stared at Seungcheol in disbelief. “What? You mean I’m here by myself?”

“You’re a big girl, you can take care of yourself. Now go away, I’m done talking to you.”

You scowled as you stormed out the room, slamming the door behind you. You had every reason to be mad: you dad had postponed the only project that you cared so deeply about, your older brother refused to believe you, and now both were leaving you to be on your own. You retreated to your bedroom and buried yourself into your sheets in frustration. You were angry, but there was one thing that your father did get right: you were going to find your way back into that testing room.

You dropped your duffel bag full of clothes and other necessities onto the couch in the very back of your lab where a neglected break space was. Seungcheol had gone back to Daegu a week ago, and seeing how little your father cared about the two of you when separated, you decided to sneak back into your laboratory.

It was a nice enough building, and you could live there if you were careful enough. There was an underused microwave and a fridge in the very back, and the couch itself didn’t look too uncomfortable. You took a long sip from your cup of overpriced coffee that you picked up on the way there and mentally prepared yourself for what was going to occur next.

You headed straight towards your computer, turning it on and booting up the needed programs. You input all the settings exactly the way you remembered and pressed the option to start up Jihoon.

You then made your way into the testing room, pleased to find Jihoon still plugged in. You stood in front of him and watched as his ring gradually lit up, his eyes fluttering open. He stared at you for a moment, as if registering who you were.

“Hello, Y/N. You have returned.”

“I have. Sorry I kept you waiting for so long, I ran into some –” you paused and chewed on your lower lip, unsure whether or not to tell him – “complications.”

“I’m here to assist you with any complications. That is what I was made for,” he responded accordingly.

“This is a complication that you aren’t programmed for,” you replied cautiously. “But I’ll be helping you perfect the ones that you are designed to fix.”

With your free hand, you pulled out a controller from your coat pocket and with the press of a button, furniture began to shift itself in the testing room to imitate a living space. You told him to sit down on the white couch that had moved behind him, and selected a book from the shelf that had shifted beside you. You placed the book in his hands and took a step back.

“Read to me, Jihoon.”

Jihoon blinked a couple of times before opening the cover of the book. He then read out the title, the chapter number, and recited each word on the page so eloquently that you were almost in a daze hearing him speak about the boring origins of psychology.

You stopped him after a bit and took the book away from him. You set it back onto the shelf and pursed your lips, thinking of what command to give him next. You then went through all the necessities that any average person would need in their life. With every task you presented to him, he fulfilled it with ease. You were confident that by the time Spring came around, Jihoon would be ready to be mass produced and released to the public.

Thoroughly impressed with the progress Jihoon had made within the month, you scanned the test room for anything else he could possibly do. You glanced at the clean, white piano in the corner of the testing room, realizing that it was the only thing he hadn’t touched yet. You pulled out your controller, pressing a button so that it moved itself to where you were standing.

“Jihoon, could you play me a song?”

He blinked a couple of times before getting up from where he sat on the couch and walked over to the piano. You ducked underneath his wires as he went past, and watched intently as he carefully pressed a key on the instrument. What followed next was music that flowed so beautifully that you felt your heart lurch in your chest a bit as you watched him play.

His fingers flew across the keys so elegantly, and he seemed to immersed in playing. As you recorded your results, you noticed the small smile that played on the corner of his lips and you felt your stomach drop. He was enjoying it. He was having fun. You immediately told him to stop and moved the piano back to the corner of the room. You then left the testing room and shut the door behind you, leaving Jihoon to wander around the confines of his living space.

You seated yourself in your rolling chair and spread out your notes on the table, figuring out where you possibly went wrong. You felt a headache coming on as you went through your notes in chronological order. He began to show more reactions to the tasks presented to him, and that wasn’t what he was programmed to do. He’d subtly crinkle his nose in disgust when asked to clean but would do it anyways. He’d subtly smile when asked to read, and subtly pout when you told him it was time to be shut off. He even seemed to pick up the small habits you did, such as having a snarky tone of voice when you’d accidentally spoke too condescendingly, something you did when Seungcheol did the same.

You twirled your pen in your hand as you skimmed the scribbles on your page. On one hand, he wasn’t objecting to any orders, but on the other, he was showing the signs of having emotions. You let out a long sigh through your nose and leaned back in your chair. You dismissed the possible malfunction and assumed it was because he was picking up on your reactions and emotions. After all, the androids were mean to be designed to best fit the person they were serving, and at the moment Jihoon was serving you.

You decided to clear your mind and get some food. You had forgotten to eat anyways. Ignoring all the hamburger wrappers and fast food paper bags stuffed in your trash can, you got up from your chair and reentered the testing room. Jihoon looked over at you and gave you a smile, and you felt something inside you that you purposely chose to ignore.

“Jihoon, I’ll be putting you on standby,” you said, avoiding his gaze.

“Are you getting lunch? It’s three and you haven’t eaten yet,” he noted, recalling your schedule. You nodded absentmindedly as you lead him over to where he usually stood when shut down, carefully rearranging his wires so that they weren’t tangled. “I see. Please have a proper meal, my database says french fries won’t give you all the nutrients a human needs.”

Your hands froze for a moment. “H-how did you know I was going to get fast food?”

Jihoon turned his head towards you and tilted it to the side. “I’ve logged that french fries were your favorite food, especially when cold. You eat them very often. You also tend to eat fast food when put in a stressful situation, or when you are troubled. By the way you are acting, I can tell there is something on your mind. I wish to be able to help you but because you did not command me, I will not press further.”

With a sharp intake of breath, you immediately flipped the switch on his back panel that put him on standby. Your hands began to shake as you took a step back, taking in his “sleeping” appearance. Your heartbeat began to quicken and you tore your eyes away from the sight of the android. You briskly left the testing room, trying to choke down the lump that had somehow formed at the back of your throat. As you slipped through the back exit of the building and got into your car, you felt yourself crying despite not knowing the reason why.

February rolled around, yet the coldness of the weather still persisted. Being in a closed of area of the building meant that your father didn’t want to spend any money tending to what was meant to be isolated, which resulted in you bundled up in your thickest jacket and a blanket. You let out a yawn as you pushed your glasses up your nose, exhausted from the maintenance on Jihoon that you had to do yourself.

The furniture of the testing room had rearranged to make a workspace for you, with Jihoon sitting still in an armchair and his arm resting on the surface of a table. You had spent a week working on him, and you were now in the final stages. You picked up one of the metal instruments from the table and pressed the tip on Jihoon’s forearm.

“Last section and then I’ll go to bed,” you mumbled, carefully pushing back his artificial skin to reveal the metallic surface underneath. “I’ll be opening it now.”

Jihoon nodded firmly and you gently slid the tool underneath the tiny slit made just for the purpose of maintenance. You opened up the panel and set the tool down in favor of another one. As you began to prod around, you noticed Jihoon studying your features from the corner of your eyes. You felt your face begin to heat up in contrast to the cold room and you ducked your head lower.

“Yes, Jihoon?”

He blinked at you. “That is not a command.”

“I wasn’t commanding you,” you muttered, carefully snipping at a single, thin wire. “Why are you looking at me, Jihoon?”

“Admiration.”

You almost dropped your tool inside his forearm. “I’m sorry?”

“I am looking at you with admiration. It is something that humans tend to do when they look at someone they care about, isn’t it?” he asked, doing the head tilt that managed to make your heart race every single time.

Your grip on the tool tightened as you connected a few severed wires. “Jihoon, you aren’t human. Please don’t look at me with admiration.”

“I understand, and I will refrain.”

With a shaky breath, you stood back up and wrapped the blanket around you tighter. “Jihoon, remind me what you are.”

“I am an android.”

“And what were you made to do?”

“I was made to serve you.”

“Good,” you said curtly, snapping the panel shut. “Remember that.”

You noticed Jihoon furrow his brows as he stood up from his seat. “Y/N, why are you acting so cold to me?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, as you looked at him. You felt your heart ache upon seeing his expression. He was upset. He was sad. As much as you wanted to apologize, you couldn’t. He wasn’t supposed to have those expressions.

“I’m not acting cold,” you replied slowly, removing the edge from your tone. “It’s the weather.”

“I see,” Jihoon responded. Just as you began to turn away, you felt him firmly grasp your wrist. You turned around to look at him, only to find concern across his features. “Humans tend to fall ill in cold weather.”

“I’m fine, Woozi,” you said, hoping that using his nickname would alleviate the emotion he was portraying. “Please let me –”

Before you could finish your command, you felt Jihoon pull you towards him into a hug. You stiffened at the contact between the two of you, unsure of how to feel. You then noticed that he began to emit heat from his body.

“What are you doing?”

“I am programmed to adapt to temperatures. I know you can’t, so I will try to keep you warm instead.”

Although you couldn’t finish your command, you realized he had acted of his own accord. He wasn’t going to let you go anytime soon, despite the fact that you gently pushed yourself away from him. You knew he’d let go as long as you commanded him, but something in you told you not to do it. You swallowed thickly as you slowly wrapped your arms around him, your hands trailing to his back panel. You pressed your cheek against his chest, feeling the rise and fall as he imitated breathing. Your fingers traced along where the wires met their ports, and you found your finger hovering over his standby option.

“Please do not put me on standby,” you heard him whisper. “I only want to care for you.”

You felt the tears well up in your eyes as your hands dropped back down to your sides, feeling guilty for even considering the option. One by one, the tears began to roll down your cheeks, and your sniffles turned into sobs. Jihoon said nothing and only held you tighter against him. You didn’t remember how long you stayed like that, but you concluded that nothing about Jihoon, nothing about Woozi, nothing about this android was a malfunction.

Jihoon seemed to know whenever you were stressed and responded accordingly by asking if he could play the piano that no longer sat in the corner of the testing room. He’d ask you to sit beside him as he played song after song, hoping that the sweet melodies would put ease into your heart, and they did. He joked around with you whenever he could, hoping to make you smile the same smile you had given him the first day you started him up.

Despite the nagging in the back of your head telling you all of this was a mistake, you refused to listen. He was serving you. By making sure you were at your best, he was serving you. You kept on repeating this to yourself as the date of the first day of Spring neared. Seungcheol had told you he was going to be back by then and that your father would be visiting the lab as well. Jihoon watched from the testing room as you paced back and forth in front of your computer monitors, your mind frazzled by all the possible reactions that would come from the two.

Yes, Jihoon had strayed miles away from the original goal of androids, but in a way, it was fine because he was serving you and you were the one that had influenced him to act in that manner. It made the most sense.

“I don’t understand why you are so upset. Would you like me to play a piece?”

“N-no, not now, Jihoon,” you stuttered over your words, holding down the speaker option. “I’m thinking.”

“Whatever you are thinking of is making you distressed. I advise you refrain.”

“This isn’t a problem you can just fix, Jihoon!” you snapped, frustrated by his constant input. “I know you want to help, but this is all between humans.”

There was a long pause, and you noticed a change in Jihoon’s expression. His lips were pressed into a frown and you let out a groan. You didn’t mean to blow up, but it wasn’t like you could help it. You entered the testing room, and approached him, taking his hand and guiding him to the sofa. You figured anyone would be uncomfortable having to stand for long periods of time, so you had gotten into the habit of placing in him standby once he was seated.

“I’m sorry, Jihoon,” you said finally, seating yourself next to him and leaning against his shoulder.

“What makes a human, Y/N?” he asked under his breath.

You took his hand into yours and began to fiddle with his fingers, tracing the glowing ring that graced his pinky finger. “Tough question. I suppose self-awareness. Display of emotions. Something deep like that.”

“And I have both,” he said flatly, pulling his hand away from you. He looked at you with the same frown from before. “I am aware I am a robot. I am aware that I display emotions, and that is not something I am meant to do. Am I not a human?”

You were taken aback. “W-well, you’re not.”

“Why? Because I’m made of metal?” His voice raised with each word he spoke. “So I’m not human because I don’t have flesh and organs like you, despite being self-aware of what I am? But apparently, I’m also not an android because I am capable of showing emotions like you can, Y/N.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but Jihoon’s voice only grew louder. “Then what am I? What am I really made to do? Why won’t you accept me? Why don’t you think anyone else will accept me?”

Your eyes widened and you scooted away from him, watching the situation unfold in front of you. Jihoon began to stutter, words and phrases scattered in his speech. His hands clenched and unclenched, and he began to blink rapidly. His breathing simulation began to speed up, his chest rising and falling erratically. You tried to reach around him to put him into standby, but he leapt up from his seat and took a step away from you.

“Y-you c-can’t standby – put m-me in – problems – s-standby – p-put me c-can’t s-standby – f-forever,” he choked out, his voice fluxing into those that sounded nothing like him. He blinked repeatedly and clenched his fists, finally managing to get his words in a coherent sentence. “Y-ou can’t put me i-in standby to a-avoid your problems f-forever!” he shouted.

You jumped out of your seat and made a break for the testing room door, slamming it shut behind you and locking it. You heard Jihoon’s distressed cries through your speakers, and you tripped over your own feet trying to get to your computer.

“I-I s-cared Y/N – s-sorry scared y-you – I’m sorry s-scared – scared s-sorry Y/N,” he stuttered, his upset expression being replaced with genuine sorrow. You swore you saw a small glint in his eyes, and it only scared you even more.

Your breathing became laboured, and you wiped away at the tears that formed in your eyes. You managed to make your way to your computer and for the first time in two months, you shut off Jihoon. You saw the light on his hand immediately disappear and you watched as he fell onto the sofa, lifeless. You then followed suit, dropping to the ground and clutching your aching heart as you let out loud sobs.

“I’m glad you’re back from Daegu,” you said, giving your brother a warm smile as you pulled him into a hug. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, sis,” Seungcheol responded, ruffling your hair. “I think all I needed was some time away from the android lab to pull myself back together.”

“A-ah, right. The android lab,” you repeated, feeling all the memories of the past two months that you tried to suppress surge back into your mind.

“I do remember you saying something about a subject being set up and ready to go,” your older brother recalled, making a sharp turn that lead right to the lab. “I didn’t believe you then, but I think I’m ready to see for myself.”

“Oh,” you responded, your voice falling to a whisper. “Are you sure?”

“You were so insistent then,” Seungcheol teased. “Why are you so reluctant now?”

“I’m not!” you replied a bit too loudly. “It’s just… it’s been three months since anyone was last in there, you know? Who knows if he even works now?”

“Doesn’t hurt to try!” your brother said enthusiastically as he pushed open the door of your laboratory.

You gingerly stepped inside and let your eyes scan over the workspace you had abandoned for the past few weeks. You slowly approached your computer and reluctantly turned on the screens. Seungcheol stood beside you and looked into the window of the testing room, where Jihoon still lay lifeless on the couch.

“Did you leave him like that or…?”

“It’s been a while, I can’t remember,” you lied, pulling up the program as slowly as you could.

Seungcheol grew impatient and pushed your hand away from the screen, dragging the screen up himself. With a few rapid taps, the data from the computer began to flow through the wires and cords connected to the android. You braced yourself, some part of you hoping that the ring wouldn’t light up, but it did, and Seungcheol gasped in awe.

“Dude, no way!” he exclaimed, clapping his hand on your back.

You watched as Jihoon began to sit himself up, his eyes fluttering open to reveal the soft brown irises that you found yourself liking a bit too much. He blinked a few times and saw your faces outside the testing room, spending more time examining Seungcheol’s face than your own.

“‘Dude’?” he asked, his head tilting to the side.

“O-oh my god, it’s real, he’s real,” Seungcheol said excitedly. “H-hold on, dad’s here, let me go get him!”

Before you could stop your older brother, he bolted out of the lab to go find the whereabouts of your father. You let out a sigh as you peered into the room, your eyes meeting with Jihoon’s.

“You’re back. I thought you abandoned me.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your finger holding down the speaker. “I did it because I was afraid. I didn’t mean to make you so upset that you malfunctioned.”

“It was my fault,” was all Jihoon said before your Seungcheol, your father, and his guards entered the room. The burly men stepped aside, allowing your father to see you fully. He looked you up and down, his expression unchanging as he did so.

“Seungcheol says you had an android ready, and so soon, too.”

“Yeah,” you responded meekly, lowering your head. “His name is Jihoon.”

“You named the android?”

“W-well, he asked for one,” you replied, your voice growing quieter. You saw the disapproval on your father’s face and you quickly turned back around to face your computer. “H-he went through the identification process and everything! If you want me to wipe out his name, I will.”

“It’s fine,” you father said curtly. “Demonstrate him.”

“Yes, sir,” you said immediately, holding your finger on the speaker button. With your free hand, you crossed your fingers and hoped Jihoon would act accordingly. “Jihoon, please read to me.”

The furniture no longer had to move in order for Jihoon to perform his tasks, and he walked over to the bookshelf and selected a book himself. He read in the same articulate manner as he always did, and you relaxed as you say your father’s interest being piqued.

“What else?”

“Jihoon, play me a song.”

The android set down the book and walked over to the piano. He seated himself on the bench before playing one of your favorite melodies out, and Seungcheol gave you an encouraging nudge.

“Wow, he performs all tasks perfectly,” he said in awe.

You held your breath, hoping that they wouldn’t find out that you had actually spent the past two months in the restricted area teaching him to perfect said tasks. You father told you to stop him, and you did. You had him stand so that your father and brother had a full view of him, and you kept the speaker on as you took a step away from your computer.

“I’m impressed. Your programming is impeccable, as always, dear,” your father said, giving you empty praise.

“Thank you,” you whispered, biting down on your lower lip.

“Would you say he’s ready for mass production, dad?” Seungcheol asked.

“You could say so, but a few more prototypes should be made with the same code,” he responded. “That, and I’d like to test one more thing. Ask him his purpose.”

You nodded, confident in Jihoon’s capabilities of answering. “Jihoon, what were you made for?” you asked aloud.

Jihoon blinked a few times but did not open his mouth. You saw your father raise an eyebrow and Seungcheol shift uncomfortably where he stood. You let out a weak chuckle before asking again, “Jihoon, please answer me. What were you made for?”

Jihoon blinked once more, staring blankly at you. “I-I,” he stuttered, and you felt your heart drop. “I was made for you.”

A long pause ensued, and all eyes in the room trailed to you. You gulped and clenched your fists. “Jihoon, that is not correct. Please try again. What were you made for?”

“I was made for you,” he replied almost immediately.

You immediately turned to look at your father, disapproval once again apparent on his features. “D-dad, I swear he answered correctly a few weeks ago!”

“A few weeks ago?” Seungcheol asked quietly.

You clasped your hand over your mouth upon realizing what you had just said, and you saw your father narrow his gaze at you. “I-I meant a few months ago!”

“You went against my word and ruined a potentially successful android?” he asked, his expression hardening.

“W-well, it wasn’t my intent to ruin him!” you stammered, taking a step back towards Seungcheol, hoping he’d help you out. You whipped around and gave him a look of desperation, but he shook his head in disapproval. You saw your father’s guards take a step towards you and you began to shake.

“I never thought my own daughter would refuse to listen to my commands,” your father said coldly, motioning for his guards to take you. “Do you realize what you’ve done? You’ve tampered with official property of Pledis Laboratories, and that is a violation of the contract you’ve signed.”

“D-dad, please!” you cried out, as a guard forcefully grabbed your arm.

“Y/N is not an android. She does not have to follow any of your commands.”

You looked through the window of the testing room, realizing that Jihoon had heard the entire exchange. His expression showed fury and rage, and his fists were clenched so hard that you could see his metal interior underneath the artificial skin of his knuckles.

“Silence, android. You are to obey commands,” you father boomed.

“I only obey the commands of Y/N,” Jihoon hissed, taking a step towards the window.

“Well then, I guess Y/N will just have to disappear,” your father said smugly, turning to leave. “Leave the android on, call in Researcher Yoon to wipe it.”

“Seungcheol, do something!” you shouted, prying yourself from the guards’ grasp.

He shook his head solemnly, switching the speaker off before joining the side of your father. “I did tell you that dad has the final say, sis.”

The guards seized you once more and began to drag you towards the doorway. Despite your kicking and thrashing, the two burly men were clearly too strong for you. You looked to Jihoon who had panic in his eyes. You couldn’t hear, but you saw him mouth your name, bolting towards the door. Although you knew he couldn’t hear you either, you screamed his name and begged him not to. The wires from the ceiling only extended so far until they tugged him back, the screens of your monitor glitching from the force of the pull.

You shouted for him to stop numerous times, watching in despair as he was repeatedly pulled back by the wires. You saw the tears in his eyes and you felt as if someone had ripped out your heart. Jihoon watched in distress as you were dragged closer to the laboratory door and quickly looked behind him to see the large,  main cable being the prime source of him being held back. Your eyes widened upon realizing what he was about to do, and the adrenaline that pumped through your body allowed you to slip away from the guards and bolt towards the computer.

“Jihoon no!” you screeched as you slammed the speaker button on the screen of your computer, but you were too late.

In one swift motion, Jihoon ripped the main cable from his back and the ring of light around his finger went off. He managed to make two steps towards the door of the testing room before all his limbs went limp. You watched in anguish as the only thing – the only person, who would care for you hit floor, the sound of his lifeless metal body clanging against the ground ringing in your ears.

[a-girl-who-loves-disney]

Everybody Wants to Rule the World

Karolina’s Playlist (1k Followers Celebration Challenge)

Prompt: Everybody Wants to Rule the World by Lorde

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, brainwashing, kidnapping, poorly written/short fight scene, mentions of blood and killing, mention of dead bodies, use of Wanda Maximoff’s powers on Reader, couple fluffy moments, happy ending

Summary: You’ve been with Hydra for years, being a successful experiment going by the name Shadow. After the regaining of your memories, you decide to escape Hydra. Years later, the Avengers and your past love find you. Happiness doesn’t last for long, as Hydra kidnaps you again and takes your memories leaving the love of your life to try to help you return to your usual self. Will he be able to succeed?

Tagging: @loveitsallineed @skymoonandstardust @colourmecreampuff @avengers122

Quick Author’s Note: A big thank you to Karolina for her patience with me! This is my first time ever writing a song fic so please be nice :)

Word Count: 5,282

Guide:

Bold/Italics = Lyrics

Italics = Vision/Dream

(Y/N) = Your first name

(Y/L/N) = Your last name

(Y/F/C) = Your favorite color

(Y/H/C) = Your hair color

Welcome to your life

“Again.”

At the command of the Hydra agent, you got into your fighting stance once again, knees bent slightly with your hands in front of you. You twirl the knife in your hand as you wait for the attacker; a habit you picked up from your previous mentor.

‘The Winter Soldier’ they had called him. You weren’t much different from him; both of you served in World War II, having been kidnapped and experimented on by Hydra, creating you into their own personal soldiers. While he was called in for most of the work, you were only sent out if the mission became too tricky. Of course, with him being who he was, that was only on rare occasions.

There’s no turning back

This changed after DC; he was gone now, causing the responsibility to fall on you. Anytime Hydra needed someone gone you were now the one for the job. Your ability to get lost in the darkness and always being the one behind the Winter Soldier earned you the name ‘Shadow.’

Even while we sleep

The fall of the helicarriers in DC and the loss of their super soldier was just a minor setback for Hydra. While the world thought that their reign had ended, you continued to be woken up from cryofreeze, brainwashed, and sent on missions.

We will find you

No one was safe. As long as Hydra had you, nothing could stop their terror. 

Acting on your best behavior

You put up with it every time; the pain and the torture that came with each mission. Even after all these years it still affected you. You would think that your body would have become immune to it by now, but instead you still reacted the same way. You would scream until your throat went dry and your head would pound from the electricity that flowed through it. Tears would flow down your face as any little bit of memory gained was stripped from you.

If you were in your right mind, you would have escaped by now. Instead, you stayed and continued to obey their commands, like the perfect soldier you were.

Turn your back on Mother Nature

Kill after kill after kill. Your body count was on the rise. You wouldn’t know it though; each time you returned after a mission your memory was wiped and you were sent into cryofreeze until they needed you again. Hydra’s plans were in action and they continued to strive, all thanks to you.

Everybody wants to rule the world

Something was changing. Your brainwashing sessions had been put on hold for the sake of Hydra’s new “miracles” thus allowing your mind to rebuild. Cloudy visions and muffled voices pried your thoughts more and more, causing confusion to build up. But even with the confusion brought on by these new thoughts, a deep desire for them also arose.

Along with change for you came change within the Hydra facility you resided in. Your missions slowed down, your usual routine being replaced with you training the twins. Their powers were starting to build up and Hydra wanted to push them even further.

Being put in as the test dummy for Wanda Maximoff, you stood there as she stared at you, neither of your gazes faltering. The members of Hydra stood around waiting, no one wanting to miss the moment between one of their first creations and one of their newest.

She walked to you, slowly circling your still form. After a few silent moments, she began. Her eyes turned scarlet, her hands moved gracefully as the red wisps started to surround them and flow around your head. Your eyes flashed red and your stiff posture started to limp. Before you knew it, the dimly lit room you were standing in was gone.

It’s my own desire

The room was no longer dark and cold, but instead bright and warm. Shades of gold painted the place and lights were lit up all over. You could hear music playing; it was upbeat and could easily be danced to. You turned and were surprised when you discovered that you weren’t alone.

People were everywhere: some gathered around the wooden tables, some at the bar with drinks, some in the band playing, and some dancing with their partners. Smiles adorned their faces, many laughing and sipping drinks while talking to those that kept their company.

They all were dressed to the nines in dresses and suits. You looked down to see that your tactical suit and boots were gone and replaced with a (Y/F/C) dress and black heels. You could feel that your hair had changed to, going from its simple braid to elaborate (Y/H/C) curls that framed your face.

“Hey, Doll.”

You turned around at the sound of the voice. There, stood a handsome man, his blonde hair fixed perfectly and his outfit resembling a military uniform. His smile was bright and his blue eyes seemed to sparkle.

“I’ve been waiting for you. It’s about time you and I got our dance.” his words were spoken so differently than the people at Hydra; each one possessing something that you were unfamiliar with.

He placed his hand out for you to grab. Your gaze swapped between his hand and his face. Who was this man?

“Please?” he said it so softly that you could have missed it over the noise.

Your thoughts were all over the place. Should you attack? Should you run? You stood there frozen, all training gone from your mind. For once in a long time, you didn’t know what to do.

Slowly, you lifted your hand and placed it delicately in his. The music changed then; the fast pace replaced with a slow and steady beat.

You moved so perfectly with him, your mind spinning as you questioned how you knew what step to make next. You couldn’t help but continue to look around and take in everything.

When you finally turned back to him you were surprised to see that he was staring at you with a soft smile on his face. His expression held something, certainly an emotion that those at Hydra have never shown to you.

Your eyes grew wide as you felt him leaning closer to you. You could feel his breath on your lips as he came closer. He stopped suddenly, the smile still on his face as he said his next words:

“I love you, (Y/N).”

It’s my own remorse

With a blink of your eyes it was all gone. The warm atmosphere was cold again and the bright lights were replaced with darkness. Any previous colors were now shades of black, white, and gray. The cheerful music muted and was replaced with eerie silence. For once, in a long time, you were scared.

You cautiously took a step forward, then another one, and another one. When you took your next step you heard something squish.

Looking down you saw something you had become accustomed to over the years; its deep color seemed bright compared to its dull surrounding, causing it to stand out. A metallic smell now filled the air as you continued to look at the substance.

Blood. It felt as if it was starting to crawl up your shoe; its only goal being to stain everything it touched.

Tilting your head up you let out an audible gasp at the sight: Bodies littered the area, some with car crashes, others with used shells littered around them. The bright red stood out on the scene in the use of splatters, smears, and puddles.

The deafening silence changed to the sound of screams. Some were loud and deep while others were ear-piercing. You squeezed your eyes shut and covered your ears, but it did nothing. They echoed in your mind; bouncing from one side to the other.

The screams expanded into words and phrases, fear and anger lacing them. They were the voices of your victims and no matter how hard you forced your hands onto your ears, you couldn’t silence them.

You fell to your knees, the beautiful dress now gone and replaced with the uniform you’ve worn so many times. Blood soaked through the knees of your pants, staining your flesh with its scarlet color. You couldn’t take it any longer.

You screamed.

The voices stopped; the silence returning once again. You opened your eyes but still saw the same bloody scene in front of you. You brought your hands down from your ears and to the front of you as you continued to kneel. You cautiously took a look at them and started to shake at what you saw.

Both were covered in blood, warm and glossy as if it just came straight from its source. You stopped breathing as one last phrase echoed through your mind.

“This is who you are now.”

Help me to decide

You awoke with a start. Your breaths quick and sporadic while you looked around at your surroundings. You were in a room at the Hydra base, the thin cot underneath you doing nothing to comfort you in the state you were in.

Whatever that Maximoff girl did to you changed your outlook. Fear coursed through you as you thought of the horrid sights. The memories that you had wanted so much were now tainted with the knowledge of your past. You had to leave; had to get away from the vile place. So that’s what you did.

Feeling satisfied with the progress of the twins’ powers it was decided that you would be sent out on another mission. You arrived at the destination and your plan went into action. You took out the two guards that were sent with you and hid their bodies out of sight. Stripping yourself of anything you found unnecessary, you took a deep breath and looked towards the darkness. With the first step, your decision was made.

Help me make the most of freedom

It had been nearly 2 years since you escaped and you were finally able to get yourself into the “normal” lifestyle. Well, at least as normal as a person who escaped a thought-to-be gone Nazi group could get.

You stayed on the down low; you weren’t going to take any chances while Hydra still lived on. Though your main caution was avoiding Hydra, you should have also been aware of another group that was looking for you.

As you looked at the produce in the outdoor stall you started to feel eyes on you. You started to take subtle looks at those around you; years of training to be unnoticeable paying off. To your left was a red-haired woman standing a few stalls down. Sunglasses adorned her face but you could still tell that her focus was not on the daisy bouquets, but on you. A little farther from her was a dark-skinned man wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap. He leaned against a streetlight with his coffee in hand. As he took a drink his gaze moved to you. It was official: You were being followed.

You continued to stay calm. If you ran it would cause a scene and who knew what these people planned on doing to you.

You started to walk to the right, your sight still appearing to be on the different fruit that lay in front of you. Feigning little interest, you started on your way. Sure enough, the two slowly followed you.

Your pace was steady but quick. Finding a crowd, you attempted to blend in. You were only a block away from your makeshift apartment. If you could just get there you could grab your backpack and go.

The crowd started to dissipate, leaving you with having to round corners and hope that the two followers would get lost. Your hope was pointless though as the two continued to follow you.

Your steps became faster as your eagerness to get away started to arise. Eventually you were in a full sprint, causing the two to do the same.

They were gaining on you. Even with all the turns you made you still couldn’t shake them.

As you ran, you made the mistake of looking behind you. The man and woman were still chasing you closely, but you failed to see the man that was standing right in front of you. You turned back around just in time for him to grab you and press you to his chest.

You attempted to fight him off, but his grip on your arms stayed strong. Amidst your thrashing, the man pushed you up against the nearest wall. Your head hit the bricks behind you, your eyes shutting from the impact.

Opening your eyes again, they widened and your movements to escape stopped as you took in the man in front of you:

Short, blonde hair that had a messy look to it. A blue t-shirt hugged his chest while his arms were clad in a leather jacket. And his eyes. They were so blue that you were sure you could drown in the pools of color.

“It’s you.” you mumbled out, your voice barely above a whisper.

“(Y/N).” he said back, his voice as quiet as yours.

And of pleasure

Ever since that day, life has never been better. You found out your dream man was named Steve Rogers, also known as Captain America, and that the vision you had of him was actually a glimpse of your past in the forties.

He was beside you through every therapy session, doctor visit, and night terror. He listened when you needed him to and would smile at each recovered memory you had of your past together. Through this time, you couldn’t help but start to fall for Steve all over again.

Besides Steve, Bucky was also by your side. Having known each other in the forties and also during your time with Hydra, he was the only one that truly understood what you had gone through.

Your relationship with the rest of the team grew as well. You started to train with them each day, learning to use your skills for good rather than evil. After hours of training and a successful evaluation, you were welcomed as a member of the Avengers.

With new friends around you and your old love beside you, your future started to look hopeful for once.

Nothing ever lasts forever

It happened so fast.

You and Steve just finished a date and were riding his motorcycle back to the Avengers’ Tower when the bike’s front tire was shot out. The motorcycle slid across the concrete bringing you and Steve with it. As you both got up from the wreckage, groups of men approached you and started to attack. The both of you started to fight back; throwing punches and slowly knocking out each of your attackers.

It was in the middle of the fight when you felt the prick to the side of your neck. Your body started to slow down and your vision became fuzzy. As your limbs grew weak one of the men picked you up bridal style and carried you to a nearby van. The doors shut and the vehicle took off with you and a few of the men inside.

As you looked at your kidnappers your eyes started to close. Sinking deeper into unconsciousness, you heard a phrase that you hadn’t heard since you had left that horrid place.

“Hail Hydra.”

When Steve got back to the tower, he and the rest of the team didn’t waste any time in trying to find you. They all tried to hide their panic, but everyone had a fear inside of what was going to happen to you.

None of their feelings could compare to how Steve felt though. He had finally gotten you back after so long only for the same organization to kidnap you a second time.

The intel came in and a location was found. The team hurried to get suited up to go. As Steve and Bucky got ready, Bucky started to speak.

“Do you remember that time that you, (Y/N), and I all went to Coney Island to see the fireworks?”

Steve buckled the straps on his uniform, his lips still stuck in a straight line. “Which time? The time you left with a redhead or the time you left with a brunette?”

Bucky gave out a light chuckle as he continued to put his guns in their holsters. “The first time. And I’m pretty sure that redhead was named Doris.”

As Steve tightened his gloves he started to recall the memory. “Yeah, I remember. (Y/N) met us straight after work so she was still in her uniform. I grabbed her hand after the first firework went off and we held hands for the rest of the show.” He stopped his actions for a moment as sadness started to come over him. “We had our first kiss that night.”

Bucky finished with his guns and started working on his knives. A small silence started to form as they continued to prepare. “We’re gonna get her back.” His tone held no question; he knew for sure that they would get you away from there.

Steve finished with the strap of his helmet and grabbed his shield, swinging it into place on his back. “They’ve taken her from me twice, Buck.” he said, as he started to walk towards the quinjet. “I’m going to make sure they regret it.”

Everybody wants to rule the world

You started to come to as you felt that your arms were strapped down. Your eyes fluttered as they attempted to take in the little bit of light in the room.

“Ah, you’re awake!” a too familiar voice said. He approached where you sat, leaning down and grabbing your chin, forcing your head to face him. A sadistic smile was on his lips. “We’ve missed you greatly, Shadow.”

That name. You hated everything associated with it. Looking at the man in front of you, you spit in his face. “That’s not who I am anymore.”

The man let go of your chin roughly and returned to his standing position. He wiped your spit off his face, his smile now gone. He brought his hand up and slapped it hard across your cheek. The sting was instant and your head lashed to the side from the force. “Hydra will always be who you are.” He started to walk away as the others around you started to approach. “Wipe her. We have lost precious time with her absence and cannot afford to lose any more.”

Your eyes widened slightly and your breath became faster. No, you thought. You were not going to lose these memories that you’ve worked so hard to get back.

As they forced the mouth guard into your mouth, you continued to bring any memory you could to mind:

Watching movies with the team

The back of the chair leans back as it whirs to life.

Having girl’s nights with Wanda and Natasha

The restraints on your arms tighten, securing you to your seat.

Going with Bucky to the Farmer’s Market

The machine starts to move closer towards the sides of your head.

Falling in love with Steve

Pieces of cold machinery set harshly on your temples and over your left eye.

Steve’s laugh, Steve’s smile, Steve’s eyes

A tear slid down your cheek as you screamed from the electricity coursing through you. While you would forget your memories, you would never forget the pain.

There’s a room where the light won’t find you

The quinjet arrived at the warehouse that Hydra was keeping you in. A plan already going into action as soon as they get inside. You were their goal and not one person was going to keep them from getting to you.

Bringing down anyone who got in their way, the Avengers continued to search for you in every inch of the building. Every room they approached was checked, but still there was no sign of you.

Steve fought his way through; his fury motivated by his need to find you. His punches were harsher and his moves were quicker as he continued his search.

He ran through the next door he approached only to stop in his tracks at the sight in front of him.

There you stood, still as a statue, your eyes focused on him.

Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down

Relief entered his mind the same time an overwhelming amount of shock did. “(Y/N).” he breathed out.

You didn’t move, but your mind started to buzz. Why did this man look familiar?

Steve took a breath as his posture straightened. He started to approach you slowly, not knowing completely what they did to you. “(Y/N),” he said it louder this time, attempting to get through to you. “this isn’t who you are. Hydra is messing with your mind.”

You stood there staring at him, your knife twirling absentmindedly in your hand. Fuzzy pictures tried to come to the front of your mind but you willed them away in order to stay focused.

“Your name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). You were born in Brooklyn, New York.” He started to feel a bit of déjà vu at his next words, but continued anyway. “You know me.”

Your mind started to hurt; the words from this ‘stranger’ starting to get to you. “No, I don’t.” While your words were meant to be harsh, you could hear the waiver in them.

At your words, Steve continued to step forward, taking the shield off of his arm and placing it on his back. “Yes, you do. We grew up together. We enrolled in the army together.”

It felt as if your brain was on fire and these things that this man was saying to you was not helping. “Shut up!” you shouted, as you advanced towards him.

You aimed your knife at him in attempt to strike only for him to catch your wrist in his grip. Your other fist flew towards his stomach and landed a punch. His grip on your wrist loosened as he started to bend over from your punch. You grabbed the back of his head and brought your knee up, only for him to block it, grabbing your knee instead. You then bring your other leg up and wrap your knee around the back of the man’s neck. Using the leverage, you swing yourself up to where your thighs are around his head. You then twist your body downwards placing your hands on the ground and flipping the man over to land on his back while you land on your feet.

As you run for your knife, the man gets up again. He looks at you as you turn back around, your knife in hand. “You know me, (Y/N).” he speaks as he starts to unstrap the buckle from his helmet. Pulling his helmet off, you finally get a look at him:

Blonde hair. A blue uniform with splashes of red and white. Blue eyes like a clear sky.

Your mind was still reeling, but the pictures were starting to become clearer. “Stop it.” The phrase was loud but had a tone of fear to it, something you were unfamiliar with.

Once again, Steve started walking towards you, but this time you didn’t attack. You instead took a step back with each of his steps forward.

“Your favorite color is (Y/F/C).” Another step. “You are terrified of drowning.” Another step. “You love watching fireworks.” Another step.

“Stop.” The word was barely audible. With all the steps you had been taking back, you had ended up with your back against the wall. You had realized at this moment that tears had been streaming down your cheeks and that your breathing had gotten heavier.

With one last step, Steve was chest to chest with you. Neither of you had taken your eyes off the other during this time. He slowly brought his hands up to lightly grab your arms.

You shook slightly as confusion and fear racked through your mind. Pictures and spoken words continued to cloud your thoughts, unable to make clear sense of it.

Steve stood there looking at you; the girl he had lost and found twice now. He felt like the energy had left his body and his own tears started to cloud his vision. Bringing one hand up he cupped your cheek and said the last words that he hoped would get through to you.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

When they do I’ll be right behind you

Like a flood, the pictures and voices became clear. Your eyes widened and the realization of who was in front of you hit you hard.

“Steve?” you asked breathlessly.

Steve let out a sob that turned into a quiet laugh. “Yes, yes (Y/N), it’s me.” His words were a mix of relief and joy as the tears he held back started to pour over.

You broke down right then, wrapping your arms around his neck as your body wracked with sobs. He caught you easily, tightening one arm around your waist and one hand in your hair. Your knees gave out and he helped guide you to the floor, the both of you still holding each other close.

“I’m so sorry.” you said between breaths. You couldn’t believe you had hurt him; that Shadow had hurt him. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“Shh, it’s okay, (Y/N). It’s okay.” he spoke quietly in your ear. He couldn’t imagine how you were feeling right now. All he knew is that he was thrilled to have you back in his arms. “It’s all over now.”

Your face was in the crook of his neck as you cried. The whole situation was becoming too overwhelming for you.

Steve brought a finger to his ear and clicked his com. “Guys, I got her.” he exhaled after he had said it; relief starting to take over his being. He brought his arm back down and picked you up bridal style. “Let’s get you home.” he said as he started to make his way out of the building.

And for once, in a really long time, you felt safe.

So glad we’ve almost made it

After that day things seemed to return to a somewhat normal state. You started to take therapy sessions again, making sure that the last brainwashing Hydra put you through wasn’t going to affect your progress too much. Training became part of your daily routine once more as you hoped to regain your status as an Avenger. You also became closer to Steve; trying once again at your relationship.

So sad we had to fade it

Things could never be exactly the way they were between you and Steve. Both of you had changed since the forties: He became a hero while you were made the villain. While he had all his memories you were still gaining more each day. Yes, your relationship would never be that fairytale it felt to be in the past, but that didn’t mean that either of you were giving up on the idea of happiness.

As the quinjet landed, you headed over to the wall where your weapons were located.

You started to place your guns in their holsters when Steve joined you by your side, grabbing his own weapons and putting them in their designated places.

The silence was peaceful between the two of you but it didn’t have time to last long as Steve spoke up.

“Do you remember that time when we saw fireworks at Coney Island?”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you pondered for a moment. Strapping your utility belt around your waist you made sure that it was on the way it should be before answering. “Was that the time that Bucky left with that redhead, Debra?”

Steve’s mouth turned up in a smirk. “Doris. And yes. It was just you and I.”

A smile came to your lips as you thought of the memory. “We sat on a bench near the beach. I was still in my uniform and there was no way I was going to get sand in it.” You giggled at the thought. Placing your knives in their spots, you continued with the memory. “I forgot how loud the fireworks could be. I nearly jumped out of my skin after the first one.” Another giggle escaped your throat at the thought.

You then turned to look at Steve, a fond smile forming on your face. “You grabbed my hand then. And you held it for the rest of the show.” You could see the blush start to creep up his neck; his ears starting to turn red.

Feeling the heat rising in his face, Steve cleared his throat. “Do you, uh, remember what happened after that?” his focus was still on the weapons in front of him as he spoke.

Looking down at the last knife in your hand, you spun it around before finally putting it in its place. You then looked up, admiring the man in front of you. And after your time of adoration, you spoke up. “Yes, I remember.” You start to slowly walk closer to him as you continue with your story.

“The fireworks had ended, and with Bucky nowhere in sight, you walked me to my house. You held my hand the entire way, and when we got to my porch neither of us would let go.”

With everything in place, Steve finally turned to look at you. He let out a content sigh as a small smile started to form on his lips. He then directed his gaze to your hands, grabbing them in his and intertwining your fingers together. “I never wanted to let go.” his voice was quiet, as if speaking any louder might ruin the moment.

You looked at him sweetly, the emotions you felt starting to bubble over. “Is that why you kissed me?”

Steve chuckled a bit, happy to know you remembered that part of the memory. He returned his focus to you. “Not completely.” he took a step closer causing the space between the two of you to be nonexistent. “As we stood on your porch I realized that I was crazy in love with you.”

Your smile grew at his confession and you couldn’t believe how lucky you had been to end up with him.

“And with that thought running through my head, I couldn’t help but kiss you. And you know what?” he said as he let go of one of your hands and brought it to cup your cheek.

“What?” your voice quietly spoke.

He leaned down, his nose brushing yours as both of your eyes started to close. “I’m so glad I did.”

You smiled a full smile then and started to lean your head up towards his lips.

“Hey, lovebirds. How about we get on with the mission instead of making out like teenagers?” Bucky’s voice spoke loudly, interrupting your moment.

Letting out a sigh, you stepped back from Steve and started to head towards the exit of the quinjet.

“Jerk.” Steve mumbled under his breath.

As you and Steve joined the rest of the team at the exit, you started to look straight ahead. About three miles out from where you landed was the Hydra base you were about to infiltrate. The first of many that you would get to help destroy personally.

“Are you ready for this?” Steve asked as he came to stand next to you.

You looked over at him with a smirk then returned to look out at the distance.

“You have no idea.”

Everybody wants to rule the world

[rather-impertinent]

A Fair Chance: Chapter 2

A/N: Hi friends!! Here is chapter 2, sorry it took so long I changed my mind about 24253 times but today is my birthday so I finally had some me time to sit down and write something proper, yay! Hope you enjoy! xo

(You can also read it here if you prefer the format: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9100009/chapters/20970410)

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

"Demelza, will you sit still?!" Caroline moaned.

"I'm sorry, I'm just so nervous. I've never been to a ball or anything like that, and especially not with a guy!"

"A very attractive one at that." Caroline added. "So that's exactly why you have to sit still while I do your hair. Demelza, stop twisting it! Seriously you're going to end up with alopecia or something."

"Alo-what?" asked Demelza, untangling her fingers from her fiery locks.

"Fuck." thought Caroline, reddening. She cleared her throat slightly. "Oh it's just this condition that you get where your hair thins and falls out due to stress or other factors." She tried to say casually, ignoring Demelza's scrutinising glance in the mirror.

She hadn't told Demelza she'd had a coffee with Dwight this week. Pretty much every day.

Because it wasn't a big deal.

He'd been studying for an exam so Caroline decided to help him as she had already finished hers and she found that she had learned some medical conditions in the process.

Demelza and her raised eyebrow were about to interrogate her when the buzzer rang.

"I'll get it!" Caroline jumped up and basically ran out of the door, hoping to avoid any further questions.

She pulled open the door expecting to see Verity or a delivery man but she was instead greeted by Ross Poldark. She blinked at him, standing there in his well-tailored Armani suit. It took her about 20 seconds to register that this was a terrible situation.

"Ross!" she squeaked.

"Caroline." he replied, smirking.

"You- you're over an hour early!"

"I know. I thought I might take Demelza out for a quick bite to eat. There's never enough food at these events." He explained.

Caroline simply blinked at him, and fidgeted nervously.

"You can't." she blurted out. "I mean... She isn't ready yet!" Her mind drifted to her red haired friend sitting in the bedroom in a dressing gown with only one winged eyeliner done and her hair only half up.

Ross laughed heartily and rolled his eyes. "Women."

Caroline chewed her bottom lip, unsure of what to do. In the end she invited him in and gave him the tv remote. "Ok, we'll try to be quick... in the meantime please watch whatever you'd like. Would you like some tea? Or a beer?"

Ross chuckled at her flustered disposition. "No, thank you, I'm fine."

Caroline returned to the room wearing a panicked expression. Demelza was singing gaily along to her Spotify playlist and didn't immediately notice Caroline's entrance.

She turned to her, her own face then morphing into the same panicked expression. "Caroline? What's happened?"

"Ross is here already! We have to get you ready!"

Without saying another word, Demelza quickly dipped her brush into her powder and smeared it on her face. Caroline hastily began pinning her hair in place. Within 20 minutes they were finished, impressed with the final product.

"There's no way he's not pulling you tonight." Caroline stated proudly.

Demelza reddened and began stuttering. "Oh no, I don't think so. I mean he's so... and I'm so..."

"Hush, Demelza, you are gorgeous! I'm so excited! This is going to be great, I'll wait up for you!" she squealed.

Demelza took a few deep breaths and gathered the courage to enter the living room. Caroline hung back, with her ear pressed to the wall. She heard Ross's audible gasp.

"Why, Demelza, look at you!" he beamed, studying her impressive figure in a perfectly fitted green dress.

Demelza's voice retreated into full Cornishness due to her nerves. "Oh why thank ye Ross, you be lookin' grand yourself." She wanted to die. Why couldn't she sound all sophisticated like Ross? Her accent had lost its strength after 3 years away from home and 3 years living with a young aristocrat from London, but now and then it peaked through, usually at the worst possible time.

"Thank you." He said, blushing. "Shall we go? I thought you might be hungry, and food runs out quickly at these events."

She smiled warmly. No man had ever shown her such consideration or kindness. Her stomach fluttered nervously. As did his.

"Wait!" shouted Caroline. "I want to get a photo!" she said excitedly, as if it were her own children who were attending the ball. She snapped a couple of quick photos and they left her flat, arms linked.

/

Roughly 5 hours, 22 glasses of wine and 9 dances later, Demelza and Ross found themselves in the botanical gardens a few metres away from the university’s main building, where most balls were held.

Ross smiled and sipped the remainder of his wine as he watched Demelza drunkenly spin in circles and sing some Cornish folk songs. He found himself in awe of her spirit and beauty; how perfectly her dressed complimented her hair and skin.

He was taken out of his daydream when she squealed and pointed to a row of flowers. “Ross, look! Cornflowers! They’re my favourite!” She bent down, pulled one out and tucked it in her hair, grinning.

Ross decided in that moment he had had enough of the distance between them and moved to close it, standing inches away from her. “Have you had a nice time?”

“The best! Oh, Ross, I can't think of a night in my entire life where I've had more fun than this.” she replied, her eyes shining.

He gazed down at her. She was so intriguing, her striking beauty mixed with a childlike faith in the world. He wondered whether he should kiss her.

“Ross? Is something wrong?” she asked, worried as to why he had been staring at her for so long.

He smiled. “No, nothing is wrong.” he said, his body inching closer to hers.

He searched her eyes for consent and when he found it, slowly lower his lips to hers; gentle and hesitant at first. Then Demelza reached her arms behind his neck to deepen the kiss, which he responded to eagerly, his hands roaming. Her hands tangled in his curls whereas his glided the small of her waist, then up over her breasts to cup her jaw.

Aware that they were in public, and not wanting things to go too fast, he regrettably mumbled against her lips: “I think we’d better go home now.”

/

Caroline attempted to concentrate on Grey’s Anatomy, which Dwight had persuaded her to watch, but kept on incessantly checking her phone. It was almost 2am and Demelza still wasn’t home. Was she okay? Did she go home with Ross? Caroline considered texting Dwight to ask, but didn’t want to risk waking him up because she knew he had been working today.

Just then, an inebriated Demelza came stumbling through the door.

Caroline rushed to meet her. “So, how was the ball?”

“Oh my god, Caroline, it was amazing! Ross is such a gentleman! He paid for everything, including my taxi! And he opened doors and pulled my chair out for me! Plus he is such a good dancer!” she gushed.

“Aw, that sounds nice! Now, for the important part: did anything happen?”

Demelza smiled shyly. “We kissed.”

Caroline screamed excitedly. “I knew it! I told you he wouldn’t be able to resist. Tongues?”

“Tongues.” she confirmed proudly.

Demelza had successfully changed into her pyjamas when Caroline came into her room with some tea and toast, and a glass of water for her inevitable hangover.

Demelza rammed half a slice into her mouth and chewed loudly. “Oh my god, Caroline, that reminds me! We saw Verity there and guess what? She is Ross’s cousin! She was a Poldark before she married Andrew. How weird is that?”

“Really? What a small world!”

Switching the lamp on, Demelza slurped her tea and inhaled the other half of her toast. She smiled inwardly as she noticed Caroline constantly checking her phone. “Have you heard from Dwight?” she asked casually.

Caroline’s gaze shot up, her cheeks becoming hot. “Dwight Enys? No… Why would I have heard from him?”

“Oh, shut up, Caroline!" she laughed. "I know you two have been talking. I saw you in the library the other day. Plus, Ross said all he’s done for the past week is talk about you and how cool you are.”

“Oh, really?” Her casual tone did not reflect the butterflies that fluttered in her stomach. She knew that she couldn’t let her relationship with Dwight get any further than friendship, because it could only end badly on both sides.

“I thought you would be more excited.” commented Demelza.

“You know why I can’t be excited.”

Demelza scrunched her mouth in understanding and lurched forward to give her a tight hug.

“So, when will you see Ross next?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Tomorrow, I hope.”

“Well, in that case, you better get some sleep and sober up.” Caroline laughed and switched off the lights for her. “Night!”

“Night! Love ya!”

Ten minutes later Caroline was brushing her teeth before bed when she heard her phone ping. She smiled as she saw who the text was from.

Dwight: Tell Demelza she owes me 20 quid for the t-shirt that Ross projectile vomited on as soon as he walked in the door! She can get me a new ear too while she’s at it, because Ross has talked mine off talking about her!! Did she mention anything about them being official? X

She spat out her toothpaste and replied embarrassingly quickly.

Caroline: Hahahaha! Poor you! No… they can’t possibly be official already, can they? They’ve only met like 4 times! But idk maybe you could say something to Ross? Demelza is way too shy to ask him out, even though I know she really likes him. How was work? X

Dwight: I definitely will then! It was fine thanks, got beat at chess 3 times by a 97 year old though! But my favourite lady shared her chocolates with me, which was sweet. How was your day? X”

Caroline: Awww but I thought I was your favourite lady? :( That’s cute though. My day was really boring, I spent most of it packing to go home. But I did get through 3 episodes of Grey’s Anatomy and I really like it so far! X

As soon as she had sent that text, she regretted it. She had meant it as a joke but now panicked over its risky undertone. She locked her phone, turned it over so she couldn’t see the screen and began removing her mascara to distract herself. After what she considered a reasonable amount of time, she peaked at her phone and opened the message. The message which Dwight had proof read 3 times before he plucked up the courage to press send.

Dwight: I’m sorry, you are my favourite lady! She’s my favourite  old lady. You’d love her she is so nice. When are you going home for Christmas? I’m glad you like it, I told you you would! I like to watch it and pretend that it counts as studying haha! X”

She grinned as reread the text when she got into bed, trying to think of a reply. She eventually fell asleep with the phone in her hand and a warm feeling in her stomach. Yet somewhere, in the back of her mind, something told her that something very, very bad was about to happen.