#the camera people really understood the assignment huh

[red-hot-moon]

Me: Yeah, I watch Miami Vice for the plot, it’s actually really good.

The plot:

[artficlly]

face the music (chapter 3)

Music College Marvel AU - Chapter 3

!frat!musician!bucky x !frat!musician!steve x !musician!femreader

Warnings: angst, mentions choking, swearing, implications of previous abuse, ptsd, fluff

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: i got carried away ahaha. also i dont know anything about music or music lingo so pls don't kill me (maybe im an idiot for making a MUSIC SCHOOL AU with no knowledge on music beyond 'hey that song sounds cool lmao) anyway it's gonna start getting fluff n fun soon k bye. not proof read

chapter masterlist | main masterlist

Lunch felt shorter than usual, you could only assume it was the dread making you feel that way. You felt a little better after getting some food into your body, less shaky and more ready to get the day over and done with. You lingered in the hallway outside the class, mentally preparing yourself to enter. Through the small window in the door, you could tell they were setting up for the impromptu performances. One of the A’s must've insisted on a livestream, you could see Scott and Clint fiddling around with a camera. 

The College was very big about its online presence. With the rise of social media and the influencer, it was only natural for the aspiring musicians to get an early taste of fame. Teenagers and adults tuned in around the world to see their live streams, to get a glimpse of the next rockstar before they made it big. You had mainly stayed out of that world, being a classical pianist people tended to not glance your way a second time. You had been on live streams before, most of your assignments were uploaded online somewhere. People weren’t particularly interested in classical pianists though, most of their attention turned to Group A’s future rockstars. It had only been when you had stepped onto that stage to sing as Sharon’s replacement that it felt like the world finally looked back at you. 

You wondered if your mother would be proud. Or disappointed. Your entire childhood had been about singing, the opera, making you into a mini-copy of her. After her death… you were repulsed by it. You fell in love with the piano and never looked back. You didn’t want to be her. You didn’t want to be that corpse. Your father had understood, supported you throughout. A part of you was torn, you had the capabilities to sing… but did you really want to? Your scholarship was for the piano. The Annual Showing, it had been funny at the time. But now with bruises, angry stares and your own sanity on the line? You wanted to fall back to your piano, let the soft notes and tapping of the keys lull you away from all of this. It would be easier that way, to just slip back into the shadows.

“You didn’t wait.” A deep voice broke your brooding.

“Huh?” You ask, looking over to see Bucky and Steve in the hallway next to you. They must’ve returned from lunch late too. You hated that a small part of you felt happy that Bucky was talking to you. You hated that you actually enjoyed his attention.

“At the party. You didn’t wait.” Bucky explains, crossing his arms over his chest. You have to hold back a gulp at the sight of the metal bulging against his shirt. You don’t even reply, instead sucking in a breath and shrugging your shoulders at the two of them. You didn’t know if you could trust yourself to speak in this state. The party, Starks office… god it had done a number on your brain. You were surprised they weren’t repulsed by you because you had embarrassingly shutdown and ran out of that office this morning. Though, something in your stomach told you they didn’t blame you. Steve had stepped in to defend you when Stark had accused you of provoking John. Steve looks between you and Bucky before speaking up. There was a soft guilt in his eyes when he caught your gaze. Your throat felt dry. 

“Look. We’re sorry about what happened.” Steve offers. Swallowing thickly, you arch an eyebrow. Maybe you had mistaken their pity for kindness. 

“Why are you apologizing? It’s not like you were the one that-” You start with a confused tone but Bucky cuts you off. 

“We sent him over.”

Silence washes over the hallway as you feel shock roll over your body. Steve looks over at Bucky with an irritated expression, like Bucky wasn’t supposed to say that. John hadn’t approached you because he was idiotic and drunk, but because he had been asked to? You had spent the whole weekend stewing over that, why you, why had he chosen you? You had fallen back into that pit of blaming yourself all weekend, anxiety eating away at your core. You had blamed yourself for Loki’s beating, for winning the Annual Showing. It was like those years ago where everything was your fault no matter how hard you tried. Both Bucky and Steve wear guilty expressions as you speak up.

“You sent John over. To do that?” You keep your voice steady, but once again you can feel yourself spiraling. You didn’t know if you were more upset with them or yourself. You had let yourself become consumed by guilt, let yourself slip back into that state of mind where you were always at fault. Maybe if you had been stronger, less damaged, less you… maybe then you wouldn’t be feeling like this. He had told you time again how weak and pathetic you were. You had thought you were doing better, and all it had taken was one nudge and you fell back into that mindset. 

“Listen. Just a few of us thought it would be funny to rile up John and send him your way. Like scare you or whatever… we didn’t think he would do that.” Steve gestures at your bruised neck. You don’t know if you’re there listening or floating outside of your body. They couldn’t have known, wouldn’t have… but it still didn’t make it any better. They had meant to humiliate you, they had wanted to tear you down. You realize you’ve been staring at the wall in silence for a long moment. You were sick of feeling sorry for yourself, sick of crying and hiding. You were sick of the nightmares, the spiral this weekend had sent you on. You were sick of being weak because of your past. Your eyes meet Bucky’s, his brows furrowed as he recognised the anger crossing your face.

“You…What the fuck is wrong with you?” You snap. You can’t believe that earlier you had felt bad that they had been dragged to Stark’s office. You can’t believe you felt guilty that you had made them split up that fight. They had started this, they had caused these problems and feelings. The anxiety in your stomach slowly began to boil into rage as you took in the two of them, looking down guiltily like some dogs who had been caught doing something they weren’t supposed to. They had hurt you, someone they had never bothered to get to know, and expected you to forgive them because they felt bad?

“Look,” Steve says with a sigh, running a hand through his hair.  “We just thought it would be a harmless prank, to scare you a bit. We didn’t mean anything by it-”

“What the fuck did I do to you? Why do I deserve to be screamed at and embarrassed for your entertainment?” You spit. Everything dawned on you at that moment. That’s why none of them had lifted a finger to help you at first. They had wanted it to happen, they had wanted you to be scared. They had wanted to scare you, to laugh at you. They had wanted you to feel small and weak, beneath them. 

“After he grabbed your throat we stepped in, we didn’t think he was going to do that.”

“What about with Loki? Were you just going to sit back and watch him get beat to death?” Both of them looked surprised at that comment, almost like they had completely forgotten you weren’t the only victim, or the only one who needed an apology. 

“To be fair, Loki is an asshole-”

“Fuck you.” You seeth, moving to open the door to the classroom when Steve blocks your way. You flinch back, not wanting to be so close to him. Any feelings of butterflies or school girl crushes had left your body, replaced with a burning fire of resentment and fear. You hated that even in your outrage you were still afraid, still scared of what Steve and Bucky could be capable of if they returned your fury. 

“We were drunk and angry. We’re sorry. It was fucked up of us. We were just caught up on how you guys cheated and not how dangerous it could be. We just thought… I don’t know. Scott didn’t tell us about-”

“Steve,” Bucky speaks up, voice low with a tone of warning. He had taken a step away from you, as if he had noticed the way you flinched away. 

“Wow,” You say with a bitter laugh. You can feel your composure beginning to break, wringing your fingers together. Of course, of course they believe you cheated. “You’re really so stuck in that privileged rich boy persona, aren’t you? That just because I’m on scholarship means I must’ve fucked someone not because I have talent-”

“What?” Steve and Bucky say in unison, you take a step back, confused. 

“That’s what John said. Said that I must’ve slept with someone-” You begin to explain.

“What? No! We didn’t say you cheated like that - jesus.” Steve said, with a look of horror. He looks over to Bucky, who was running his human hand over his face, his metal one clenched into a fist.

“John said that to you? What a fucking psycho-” Bucky mutters under his breath. You can only give the two of them another confused look. 

“Wait - what did you think happened then? Why are you going around saying we cheated?” You ask. The two of them just look at each other, Bucky shakes his head as if warning Steve to shut up. 

“We were saying that you must’ve cheated because you can’t sing! It had to be a recording of Sharon that was altered to hit the notes she can’t.” Steve says. You feel yourself laughing bitterly before you can process it. All these cruel words and violence, because someone started a rumor that you couldn’t sing? You have to calm yourself before you can speak, Steve is looking at you like you’ve gone mad, while Bucky looks like he’s ready to give up and walk away.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I mean… Come on darling. You’re a pianist, you got into this college for piano. You’ve never sung here before - you just expected us to just believe you? Sharon’s a trained singer and even she can’t hit those notes.” 

You ignore the clench in your gut at the word darling. Fucking blond bastard making you feel things other than anger. You can feel another laugh bubbling in your chest. All you can do is shake your head in disbelief. If they had just asked you - had ever bothered to try and interact with you, they would’ve known you could sing. Your entire class knew you were originally a singer, they had heard you sing before. You had never used your voice for assignments because you were a pianist and you didn’t want to step on Sharon’s toes. 

“So you… still think we cheated? You do realize I am about to sing right now? For this stupid performance thing? Which is entirely your fault by the way - if you had just asked, you’d know that I am, well, I used to be a singer?” You say. Bucky laughs - he actually laughs at this interaction. Steve has a mortified expression. 

“I believed you. And Scott did too. Those idiots are just sore losers,” Bucky chuckles as Steve rubs his face with an annoyed expression. All you can do is just roll your eyes. 

“I don’t care if you believed me or not. You’re both assholes.” you say, stepping towards the door. Bucky pulls Steve away so you can reach for the handle without having to touch him. You can see Steve opening his mouth to say something but you cut in before he can. 

“And for the record, I don’t forgive you.”

*

Throughout every performance you were boiling with rage. You had hoped that by the time it was your group's turn to take the stage, that you would’ve calmed down. One look at Natasha’s sneering face had sent you back into seeing only red. All afternoon you had heard them snickering about how you were going to make a fool of yourself, that Group B would expose themselves for cheating (in front of not only Group A - but an entire livestreamed audience). 

While setting up the microphone next to the piano, Peter sends you a look of concern. 

“You gonna okay hitting some of these notes? Not that I doubt your ability - just that you did nearly get choked to death a couple days ago.” He says, adjusting the height of the microphone stand so the microphone sits at mouth level. You muster a comforting smile despite the anger coursing through your veins. 

“It’ll be fine. I got this.” You say quietly, taking your seat in front of the piano. Peter just nods and retreats to the drum set, Yelena and Kate fumbling around with the violin and cello. Your back was mainly turned away from the camera. If you looked in the corner of your eye, you could see the couches where most of Group A were seated. You were kind of grateful for that - you wanted to see their gobsmacked expressions when you hit every note. Sharon was practically bouncing where she stood. Before her solo, you had managed to explain your heated conversation with Steve and Bucky in the hallway. You were thankful that she was as excited as you were to show Group A what fools they were. The song you were performing was a jazz cover, thankfully due to your past singing opera you could quite easily slip into most styles of singing with some practice. Luckily, you had plenty of practice thanks to Sharon. When the jazz assignments were due, you had spent many hours helping Sharon with her notes, or stepping in as singer for the rest of the class if Sharon was busy.

You only had to wait a few more moments before the others motioned that they were ready. You ignored the grins dripping with malice coming from Group A, the snorts and laughs. You put your attention on the black and white keys in front of you. With a sharp exhale, you press your fingers into the keys, starting the song. You always played better when you were angry, or when you were playing for revenge. As you moved, fingers gracefully navigating the keys you could feel the rage pouring out of you into the music. Peter fell in on the drums, and then so did the violin and cello. You had to suppress a smile as it was your cue to start singing. 

The start of the song was slow, basic notes to hit that weren’t too hard. You could hear Natasha scoff and turn to Wanda. 

“Anyone could hit those notes, so what, she can sing the basics? Doesn’t prove anything.” 

You had to zone out Wanda’s reply, instead focusing all your energy into keeping your voice and fingers steady. The one thing you could always guarantee was that when you were in this state of mind, you played like a fucking god. You could see Bucky and Scott grinning as you rocked in time with the music, body moving along each time you pressed the piano’s pedals. 

By the time the first higher note came, you were completely absorbed by the music. You barely even noticed how Natasha’s smile began to drop, the way Sam slapped Steve’s back with a laugh. Your focus was entirely on that note, controlling your breath to sing it out perfectly as your fingers worked along the keys. 

Sharon was grinning from ear to ear, Kate just gaping at you, completely ignoring the sheet music as she pulled her violins bow back and forth. The song slowed again for a brief moment, before Peter came back in with the drums. The finale was why he had been worried about your injured throat, this is where you would show Group A how well you could hit those harder notes. You could’ve hit them even better if you were standing, but your loyalties would always lie with your piano.

Steve looked like he wanted to jump into a hole in the floor, as the realisation dawned on him that not only could you sing (and well) but he had entirely fucked up by questioning you. You could imagine he was holding onto the hope that you had been bluffing, that he wouldn’t have to feel as guilty about what had happened at the party. Natasha was scowling, punching Clint as he twirled in time with the music as you hit note after note. Bucky was just smirking, leaning back in his chair as he watched your fingers work tirelessly. That feeling was back in your gut, that flutter. For how much of an asshole Bucky and Steve had been, why did the idea of impressing them motivate you? 

“Dude! I told you she was trained in singing opera!” You heard Scott boast as you hit one of the longer notes, controlling your breath perfectly until the end. The song finally faded out along with your last note. The room erupted into cheers and clapping, with the exception being a sour-faced Natasha. All you could manage was a smile as you resisted the strong urge to catch Bucky or Steve’s eyes with your own. 

*

After Sharon had spent a good ten minutes gushing about how you had killed it with the vocals, life had moved on. A few of Group A sent you sheepish smiles - a peace offering. You had tried to ignore it, claiming yourself a couch in the back to watch the last of the performances. 

Scott had come over at one point, planting a sloppy kiss to your hairline while you squealed in protest. Natasha had sent you a dirty look for that, telling the two of you to shut up. Scott ignored her, flopping over the couch, nearly landing on your legs as you slapped his shoulder. 

“I have a present for you…” He said in a quiet sign-song voice, grabbing your legs by the knees and placing them over his lap. You rolled your eyes, grinning, so much for brooding in peace.

“Oh yeah?” You said with a quiet giggle, relaxing further into the couch. You and Scott had been friends awhile, smoking buddies. Much like with Loki, you were rather relaxed with touching or cuddling. The two of you had too many deep conversations while high to shy away from each other, if anything Scott probably knew about as much as your therapist. You had told him all about your mother, how her death had changed things… him and everything that had happened. He had returned the favor, telling you private things about his own life that not many others had the pleasure of knowing. 

Scott leaned in close to your ear, whispering for you to reach into his pocket. Inside was a baggie, a pre-rolled blunt inside. You gasp, slapping him on the shoulder. 

“Oh my god Scott, don’t show that on stream or Stark will be pissed!” You hiss, shoving the baggie back in. Scott just wheezed a laugh in response, letting you shove him back to his side of the couch. As you stuck your tongue out at him, you couldn’t help but notice the way Steve and Bucky were watching the two of you. Both of them looked on edge, jaws and arms tensed. Were they… jealous?

“Look at this,” Scott laughed from beside you, shoving his phone into your face. Your eyes turned away from the two brooding men as you bit back a laugh and rolled your eyes. 

“Are you laughing at memes… about you?” You ask, handing him the phone back. Scott was rather infamous for having a small subreddit dedicated to making memes about him. He checked and interacted with it religiously. That would be if you could consider anything about Scott religious. 

“Hey! Just because you don’t have any fans!” Scott protested, waving his phone about. You could practically feel Natasha’s scowl on the two of you from across the room. Maybe you’d have to put getting your teeth punched out of your head back on your list of worries.

“Yours just make fun of you!” You protest, gently kicking his thigh with your foot. He just grins at you. Leaning back, he looks up at the ceiling dreamily. 

“I know! It’s great!” He laughs, bouncing his knee underneath where your legs are thrown over his lap.  

You snort and roll your eyes, unlocking your own phone. You try to keep still as Scott jolts the entire couch with his bouncing. The last performance had ended, Sam and Clint working on turning off the livestream as the room suddenly moved into groups. You knew during the performances that people had started calling dibs, you hadn’t really cared to interact or include yourself in anything. You guessed you would end up with Scott, Sharon, Peter and maybe MJ. If anything you were leaving it up to fate, hoping you’d end up with either a group that was interesting or with people you liked. 

“Scott!” Sharon’s voice rang out, motioning the man over. Sliding his phone into his pocket, he pulls himself up from the couch. You let out another squeal as he goes in for a kiss on the cheek, pushing your foot into his stomach to send him away. Natasha was going to fucking kill you.

“Bye Scotty,” You say in a sing-song voice, mocking his voice from earlier. He just shakes his head at you, running his hand through his hair as he looks between you and where Sharon is waiting.

“Are you free after this? This baby won’t smoke itself,” He asks, patting his pocket. You grin up at him, snuggling yourself deeper into the couch now that you have it all to yourself. 

“Oh, are we sharing now? I thought it was a present for me.” You say, fidgeting with the neckline of your sweater. 

“Scott!” Sharon shouts from somewhere across the room. Scott cringes, before leaning over and shaking his finger in your face. 

“We’ll finish this conversation later,” Scott says, before reluctantly crossing the room towards Sharon. She scolds him, before giving in as he wraps her into a hug. You bite your tongue to hold back your laugh, flicking your attention down to your phone as you lounge on the couch. Your peace is short lived, though. 

“Siren.” your eyes shoot up from your phone with a scowl, above you stands Bucky, a smirk across his lips. You subconsciously squeeze your thighs together, drinking in his expression. You’re still pissed at him - and Steve - but you can’t help but enjoy the attention from the brunette. 

“Why do you keep calling me that?” You ask, pulling your feet off the couch as Sam crashes onto the other side with a huff. You flinch a bit at that, having not expected to be sitting so closely to a wall of muscle. Their frat house was obsessed with the gym (all except Scott) so they were all ridiculously muscled. You see Bucky’s smirk falter a bit at your flinch, eyes darting over to Sam who seemingly got the message and scoots further over. 

“Barnes has a thing for beautiful women who can sing and also eat a man whole,” Sam says. You fein disgust at that comment, shoving yourself deeper into the corner of the couch to get some distance between you and Sam. That feeling is in your gut again - no, it was lower - what had Bucky said about you to Sam to warrant you being called beautiful? 

“Shut it Wilson,” Bucky growls, to which Sam puts his hands up in fake-surrender with a laugh. “You’re in our group, Siren.”

You pause for a second, noticing how Steve approaches as well. Bucky a drummer, Sam a bassist, Steve a guitarist… and you? Your eyes snap up to Bucky’s. You had to silently remind yourself that you were supposed to be mad at them, that they had fucked up. It was hard when Bucky’s expression softened as he watched you. 

“What?” You ask, pinching your thigh through your jeans. You had to focus, stop falling into dreamy ideas at just a look from either Bucky or Steve. 

“We called dibs. And I mean, you didn’t really involve yourself in the conversation… you were too busy cuddling Scott.” You swear you can hear a bitterness in Bucky’s tone at the mention of Scott. You snort, crossing your arms over your chest. Steve is watching you carefully, wetting his lips. You try to ignore it, instead digging your nails into your arm through your sweater. 

“I’m a pianist. A classical pianist, and you’re what? Wannabe rockstars? How is that going to work?” You point out with a small laugh. Bucky tilts his head at you, standing above you like that he looks so…

“You’re also a singer? As much as Stevie here hates to be wrong-” Steve groans at that as Bucky claps him on the back, “Opera at that, you can sing pretty much anything with a bit of guidance.” 

You chew on your lip at that, uncrossing your arms to rest your palms on your thighs, glancing between the three men. Of course they would want to be paired with you, not like they had already tormented you enough? You could imagine it was out of guilt, somehow convincing themselves that if you got good grades for this assignment it would be payment for all they had done. In any other situation they wouldn’t have been interested in you, probably wouldn’t have even known you existed

“What if I say no?” You ask. You could easily argue that you were too traumatized from the incident to do this assignment. You would get away easily, the boys? Well they would be fucked, scrambling to find someone from Group B to put up with their shit. 

“Then deal with Stark. I don’t care. Listen, we know this is our fault. We’ll keep apologizing and somehow make it up to you. Just be our vocals for this assignment?” Bucky says, a slight begging tone to his voice. You roll your teeth over your bottom lip. You don’t know what would be better - to completely fuck them over, or go along with it and watch them beg for your forgiveness. 

“Why not Natasha? Or Sharon?” You ask, motioning in their general direction. Steve watches your movements like a hawk while Sam groans for you to stop being so tedious.

“I mean, they’re both great singers but not for what we want. They’re like… pop, indie shit. We want something a bit more edgy.” Bucky explains, you arch an eyebrow. 

“Because an ex-opera is edgy?” You say sarcastically, you can practically feel the vibrations of Steve’s groan in your chest. That makes you smile.

“Y/L/N.” Bucky warns, you just beam up at him. 

“Barnes.”

The two of you stare at each other for a long moment, you can feel Sam uncomfortably squirming beside you, like he can sense the tension. 

“Just say yes, please?” Steve speaks up finally, surprising you. You glance over at him, looking him up and down. Your eyes pause for a moment on his biceps, then on his face as he assesses you with a pleading look. You figured you’d probably tortured him enough - the entire day he had seemingly gone through all the stages of grief. 

“Fine. But you owe me.” You reply with a sigh, finally giving in. 

“Thank you,” Bucky says with a gentle smile. You roll your eyes at him, they still owed you big fucking time. 

“Too easy. I should’ve made you beg on your knees for it,” You mutter, voicing your annoyance,  with a shake of your head. Bucky and Steve exchange a look you can’t quite see, but you can sense the invisible tension. 

“Nah, they would’ve been way too into it,” Sam says from beside you with a chuckle. Your eyes snap to him. Steve responds by hitting Sam’s shoulder, Sam yelping in response. You watch cautiously, waiting to see if Sam settles back into the couch or tries to fight back. To your relief, he leans back. Bucky eyes your caution with his own cautious stare before speaking up. 

“Tonight then?” He asks, you shake your head. 

“I can’t. Loki’s being discharged so I gotta deal with that. Tomorrow?” You purposely ignore the face Steve makes at the mention of Loki. You would really have to ask Loki what the fuck that was about. Maybe when he wasn’t delirious on pain medication. 

“Sure. Tomorrow, 6pm?”

“That works, better to do it at yours. I think Thor might castrate you if you came near the apartment.” You say, Bucky chuckles weakly. You can’t tell if it’s to humor you, or that he genuinely didn’t believe Thor could best him. God, you were surrounded by far too many hot muscled men.  

“Sounds like a plan.” You chirp, snatching up your bag as you stand from the couch. Bucky and Steve both stand clear out of your way as you depart without a goodbye. 

Chapter 4

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 33

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: assault, swearing, trauma, tones of ptsd 

A/N: this chapter is heavy with prominent mentions of assault. if that triggers you, please skip this chapter. 

NEXT CHAPTER

She stood in the middle of the set, surrounded by bright lights as the cast and staff moved around to change the setting of the set design. There was nothing she could really feel and she felt herself almost out of her own body, the lack of sleep weighing not only on her eye bags but on her brain and ability to properly function. She felt she was watching herself out of her own body, watching as she dragged herself from scene to scene, almost changing into a completely different person when the cameras were on. It was mechanical, an ability of someone who’d been acting since she was a child. She slipped in and out of her own consciousness, almost knowing everything with a sharp eye but ignoring it. No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t sleep. Any news that appeared regarding HYDRA or criminal organisations were always a trigger to keep her up at night. The silence itself was a trigger. Every blank letter she would get would send her into a spiral, every knock on her door. Wherever she turned, either Bucky or however haunted her seemed to surge. Except this time, Bucky wasn’t around. Sharon was but she couldn’t help to think something was off. 

Two weeks. 

Something was off.

She was no super soldier and she was no agent so all she could do was merely put a smile and say “nothing” whenever they asked her if something was wrong. Not that they asked, she was a good actress after all so to everyone else, even Sharon, she was peachy keen, with the same shy smile she always had on set. After all, this was the place she could be anyone but herself. Anna, the character she was playing, was so far removed from her own personality that whatever she felt seemed to dissipate mid takes. Yet, there was no comfort in becoming someone else, becoming someone who was so one dimensional she’d rather be back in her mind. Wherever she turned, she felt trapped, shackled by the weight of her own thoughts. There was nothing she could do. 

     - CUT! It’s a wrap everyone. - the bright lights dimmed as a ‘pop’-like sound removed her from her own dazed consciousness. She clung onto her own arms, turning around with a quickened heartbeat which slowed down as she realised it was merely a bottle of champagne which was now being half poured into flutes and half poured onto the floor. Yet, all she could hear was a buzzing in her ears.

She stood in the middle of everything, almost like a movie shot. Things moved fast but she knew they moved slowly and she remained there, in the middle of the shot, listening to everything as if she were underwater. Everyone was celebrating, drinking and laughing out loud but she couldn’t hear anything. Just a buzz. That’s all she could hear. The buzz and the sound of the wind bustling her dress. 

     - Y/N? - Sharon moved through the crowd, knowing way too well what was happening. She had seen it before. She carefully put her hand just slightly over her shoulder, not touching her but anyone would sense it. - Can you breathe in and out?

    - Huh? - she was once again pulled out into her body and suddenly everything was just too fast, everything was just too loud as if someone had pressed the forward button on an old VHS tape. Her eyes moved side to side as her own hand pressed against her chest, a forceful reminder to feel her own heart beat. - Yeah, hum, I just need a break.

    - That’s fine. - Sharon nodded her head and started to guide her out the middle of the set; however, a much familiar sound of heels hitting the gravel halted those plans. The she was, always board in hands. - Move. 

    - You’re needed. - Ms. Olson pointed at the actress in front of her with her pen. - The director wants to speak to you. 

    - Yeah, that’s fine. - Y/N pulled a fake smile. There was no use putting a fight, she had already done so and something told her not to stray too far off the cage they had put her in. She knew that with Bucky gone and Sharon under the cover she was one of her old university classmates which had settled down in New York as a stage manager, she had no protection, at least no personal protection. What she had belonged to the agency and if she toed out of line, she’d be left to fend for herself. She could barely look at the mail without shivering, much less fend for herself. She was a short woman, anyone taller than her could easily overpower her and that was the sad truth.

Once again, she found herself out of her body, watching as she walked the gravel with Ms. Olson to the trailer belonging to the director. Y/N was tired, she had no intention of wanting to speak to anyone, all she wanted to do was try to sleep yet here she was knocking on the door of the man she had learned to stray away from. The door was opened by his assistant, a small woman barely in her twenties, couldn’t be much younger than 5 years from Y/N, who had an almost meek look to her, hunched back even. Before Y/N could ask her what was wrong, the director, Mr. Powell, was already yelling out for the assistant to leave and for Y/N to come already.  The girl stepped out and closed the door behind Y/N, leaving the two of them inside his trailer. It was grimy with papers and open bottles everywhere and the stench of smoke was thick in the air. It was almost comical, cartoonish even how it looked as if a cartoon, over exaggerated version of a 70′s movie director. 

   - Sit down. - he pointed to the spot on the brown couch near him. She was hyper aware of everything as she sat down on the couch, yet living a big space between the two of them. - You almost ruined my shot today with those puffy eyes, darling. 

    - I’m sorry, sir. I’ve been having some personal issues, I thought they would’ve de puffed by today. 

    - I’ve heard. - he took a puff of his cigarette which laid in the middle of his calloused fingers, laying against the couch rest as if he were on top of the world, when he was merely as much of an unknown as she was. He was no famous director, he wasn’t even a good one. - I thought you were missing your shadow. Where is he anyway? Lost his mind again? You know, darling, I’m always worried about you. I mean once a killer, always a killer, right?

    - ... You’re pathetic. - it came out of her lips without her even noticing it. She stared at him with a lack of respect few people saw yet as quickly as she said those words, she was pined down against the brown leather of the couch. She could feel the cracked leather against the skin of her neck. His hand gripped her throat, hard, cutting her air flow and keeping her against the couch cushions. 

   - You ungrateful little bitch. - Y/N started kicking her feet, trying to somehow roll over on the floor. - I gave you the best role, put up with you not losing any weight and looking like any average shopping girl and how do you repay me? By being a whore? 

She continued to kick her legs up in down so fast it had already started to tire her muscles. Her hands clawed at his face, leaving scratch marks which were sure to remain red and angry on his cheeks. 

   - I’m gonna give you some advice, darling. You wanna get ahead? Start whoring yourself for someone other than your boyfriend.

His hands left her neck and he returned to sit down where the place where he had been, as if he hadn’t just chocked her against the couch pillows. Y/N got up from the couch and bolted towards the door, pulling it open and climbing down the stairs, noticing the assistant was in front of them. Same meek look, yet Y/N continued to charge away from the set villa until she stopped on the sidewalk, sitting down as she watched the traffic in front of her. The weather was cloudy and dark yet somehow the cars lights made it brighter and it hurt her head. It hurt her head too much. The smell of fog and the bright lights hide her away as she tucked her head in the middle of her knees, chest going up and down yet no tears rolled down her face. 

     - Hey ... - Sharon sat by her side. - Let’s go home, yeah? 

The fog merely thickened and lowered, covering the whole of New York in a somber mood. The wind itself was also fast and freezing and as Bucky stepped inside government headquarters, the mood as just as somber. The lights were yellow yet everything had a weird green-like tinge. Everyone was mechanically induced into their own work yet he was hyper aware of everything. Two weeks. Two weeks to bring in a HYDRA general and a senator which were sure to buy their own bail and go back and all he could say and think was he was tired. James “Bucky” Barnes was tired and worn down. 

He strutted towards the interviewing room where Agent Cox and Doctor Raynor were. It was nothing new to him, it was always the same; he would return from whatever assignment had been given to him and be questioned on it by whatever agent was looking over the case and then had a “therapy” session with Doctor Raynor. It was never to check if he was alright, or at least it barely was. They just wanted to see him, to see the Winter Soldier was still inactivated. He understood that yet that didn’t mean he particularly liked it.

He told the agent all he wanted know, from where he had found the two he had just brought in, to some background info. There wasn’t much to say and when he was done, he was left with Doctor Raynor. He stood against his metal chair, convinced to get this over and done with so he could go back to Brooklyn. Back to her. 

    - How are you, James?

    - I’m good, doc. Can I go now? 

    - James, that’s not how this works. You should know that by now. - she opened her notebook. Great. - Tell me about the mission.

    - It was an extraction, mission. No one got hurt. - lies. He had gotten hurt, he had taken a pretty harsh blow to his cheekbone which was developing into a nasty purple bruise, yet, that was not who they were questioning him about. If he had gotten hurt, it didn’t matter. - No nightmares either. 

    - Are you lying to me, James?

    - No, I just want to get out of here. I haven’t seen my girlfriend in two weeks. 

    - Tell me about your girlfriend. - she closed the notebook, almost as if this was off book yet he knew that nothing was off book. Not for him. Everyone has the right to privacy but the Winter Soldier. - What’s her name? 

    - Y/N. 

    - How old is she? 

    - Younger than me. 

    - No need to be hostile, James.

    - No need to ask me about my love life, doc. 

    - Any big fights? Any ... problems regarding your condition? Healthy sex life?

    - Are you asking me if I abuse my girlfriend? - his blood boiled yet he tried to keep cool. He knew an anger outbreak would only keep him in this session for longer than he wanted. Despite this, he chose to get up and leave the room. 

He didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want to hear those accusations, he didn’t even want to think about it. Bucky did not like the idea of the Winter Soldier and Y/N together. He didn’t want to merge those two worlds together. The Winter Soldier was someone, a part of him which he didn’t fully understand and he didn’t want Y/N together with it. No, Bucky wanted Y/N to only see whatever bit of kindness, whatever few bits of goodness lied within him. He didn’t want her to the Winter Soldier’s girlfriend. He knew he didn’t deserve her and that title only further reminded him. 

He continued to be lost in his head, those questions running through his mind as he unlocked the door only to be met with Sharon pointing her gun at him. She lowered her gun once she realised who it was that stood in the entrance, putting the gun back in between her jeans and her shirt. 

   - Two weeks? That was long. 

   - Not my fault, Sharon. - Bucky dropped his duffel bag to the floor. - How is she?

   - Not good. - Sharon crossed her arms. - You have to tell her things, James. C’mon, you can do that with me and Steve and maybe even Sam. We know them, we’ve been in missions before but she doesn’t. 

   - Spare me this.

   - She barely slept while you gone, James. God, are you so afraid she’ll stop loving you if you tell her about the Winter Soldier that you’d rather her live in constant anxiety every time you have to leave?

    - I won’t have to leave. 

Sharon scoffed, grabbing her jacket from the coat hanger.

    - Do you seriously believe that, James? 

    - Since when do you care about Y/N?

    - Stop being your worse enemy, James. She deserves to know.

God, she sure was awful now, Bucky thought to himself as Sharon left probably to return to Steve. The flat was intact, things were just as he had left them and everything was quiet except for the TV in the living room. Their bedroom door was slightly opened, probably so Sharon could keep an eye on Y/N. He took his shoes off so his steps wouldn’t alarm her and walked into the bedroom. She was there, in the bed, laying on her side, sleeping peacefully. Bucky walked up to her side of the bed, leaning down to kiss her forehead. 

She stirred in her sleep, eyes slowly opening as Bucky began to shush her, trying to make sure she went back to sleep. Last thing he had wanted was to awake her up.

    - Bucky? - she held herself onto one arm, the other hand coming to rub the sleep off her eyes. Once the blurriness dissipated and she confirmed it was indeed her Bucky, she wrapped her arms around him tightly, almost knocking him into the bed.

Bucky melted in her touch, burying his nose in her hair, sensing the scent of vanilla from her shampoo and the warmth of her skin. This was home, not Brooklyn but her. She was home, she felt like home. She pulled away from the hug for a bit to examine him, her fingers brushing the bruise on his cheekbone.

    - What happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?

    - I’m fine. It’s just the bruise, Y/N. 

    - I’ll get some ice. - she prepared to get out of bed but he pushed her back on it. She felt onto his chest and he held her against him with one arm. What he did not expect was to see how uncomfortable she became at the inability to move. He was used to playing around with her, rolling around or having her on top of his chest. 

   - What’s wrong, princess?

   - Nothing ... - she shook her head. - I just missed you. I was afraid you were hurt or you were dead. 

   - I’m not hurt, I’m here. 

   - You’re staying, right? - she questioned, rolling to his side of the bed, laying on his side. - You’re not here just to visit.

   - Yeah, I’m staying, princess. - he caressed her cheek, leaning his forehead against hers. Sharon’s words, however, kept pulling at him. She loved him, he knew she loved him. Right? 

   - You’re making the face.

   - What face?

   - Your thinking face. - she cuddled against him, fingers softly pulling his chin down so he was looking at her. - What are you thinking about?

   - You love me, right? - he probably sounded insecure, he could hear himself sounding insecure, his voice cracking. She cocked her head to the side before raising her fingers to trace his jaw. 

   - Of course I do. You think I’d be marrying you if I didn’t love you?

   - I wanted to hurt them. - he blurted. - I wanted to torture them. Both of them.

   - Who?

   - Every time they send me to any of these assignments. Make amends ... I wanna hurt those people, I wanna hurt them like they hurt me and I hate it.

   - Buck ...

   - I’m ... I wanna be a good person, Y/N. I wanna be good. - he shut his eyes tightly. - And I’m not. 

   - It does not make you a bad person to want to hurt you hurt you, to want revenge. You do not act on it and that’s the difference. You’re not a bad person, Bucky. 

   - You’re the only person who thinks that. 

   - Doesn’t matter. - she smiled at him, softly kissing him. - I’m not expecting you just to move on and let it go. It’s part of your life and it’s part of you and I love you. All bad and all good, I love you. 

   - Maybe you need a better judgement. 

   - I have the best judgment between the both of us. I have no thrown myself off a plane without a parachute. 

   - That can’t be your way of winning arguments. 

   - It is my way of winning arguments. - she giggled at him. - Let’s just go to sleep. 

The night seemed short, way too short but it did not matter because both of them were there. It was calm, too calm until a harsh knock had both of them wake up from her slumber, the morning barely bright yet there was already some light. Y/N clung onto his arm as another harsh knock was delivered against his door. Bucky moved slowly to take his gun from under the bed before he walked out the bedroom, putting his gun behind his back as he opened the door. The police stood in front of him, quite a few of them. Way too many.

   - James Buchanan Barnes, you are under arrest for the alleged harassment and stalking of Miss Y/N Y/L/N.

taglist: @disasterbi​ @lookiamtrying​ @buckysteveloki-me​ @americasass81​ @jamesbarnesappreciationclub​ @lostinthebeans​ @mariahthelioness29​ @oh-nohoney​ @peaches-roses-sins​ @theadorasabditory​ @sipsteacasually​ @saiyanprincessswanie​ @booktease21​ @noiralei​ @learisa​ @everythingisoverratedbutgreat​ @uglipotata72829​ @naturalthrone22​ @husherstan​ @mandiiblanche​ @vicmc624​ @newyorkgoddess​ @itsallyscorner​ @chipilerendi​ @emzd34 @writerwrites​ @bluevxnus​ @that-girl-named-alex​ @captnrogers​ @nsfwsebbie​ @sarge-barnes-sir​ @niki-is-a-thing​ @cynic-spirit​ @tenaciousperfectionunknown​

[heylookafanfic]

Title: What Could Go Wrong?

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x daughter!Reader, 

brief summary: With your dad, Aaron Hotchner, being the BAU unit chief, he did whatever he could to protect you. When you get invited to a party for the first time, sneaking out doesn’t sound so bad. What could go wrong?

word count: 3,706 words

requested: Nope, original! (send in those requests!) 

warnings: cursing, getting roofied, getting yelled at, predatory men

Your dad, Aaron Hotchner, was extremely protective over you not only because his job can put you and your brother, Jack, in danger but he already lost a family member and refused to lose another. Having an overprotective father meant you had a list of rules.

The door was to remain completely open when your significant other came over and no sitting/laying on the bed

No leaving the house after sundown

You can’t sleep over at anyone's house, they had to sleep over at your house

You have to ask to go somewhere

If your dad wasn’t home and the doorbell rang, you couldn’t answer it

And that is just the surface. You understood why your dad was so strict but you never got to have a life. To make things worse, your friends always post pictures from parties on Instagram and all you could do is sigh and keep scrolling knowing you’ll never get to go to one.

One day, you were in communications class listening to the professor lecturing about the upcoming semester project. Luckily, you got to pick your group for it and when they dismissed the class to find partners, you quickly turned to your best friend,Vanessa.

“I guess we’re partners, huh?” you chuckled

“Of course!” she said

“So, what do you want to make our project about?”

“I have no idea. I barely paid attention this chapter”

“Try to think out of the box a bit. What’s gonna make ours stand out?”

“Since the class is about communications, how about human interaction?”

“What about it?”

“Like how you haven't had any human interaction lately” she said with a smirk

“You know my dads strict. I can’t even breathe without him being on edge” you said

“You need to live a little Y/N. You’re in college and you’re still being treated like a kid.”

“I know, I know but I don’t know how to convince him to let up a bit”

“Here’s the thing, I’m going to a friend's kickback tomorrow night. This is your chance to finally hang out with someone who isn’t me, Jack or your dad ”

“He’s gonna say no regardless even if I tell him that you’re going with me.” you said

“I’m not saying to sneak out but...” she said with a shrug

“You know he has cameras around the entire perimeter of the house, right?”

“Just say you’re sleeping over at my house”

“Can’t do that either, remember? All sleepovers have to happen at my house”

“I understand having to be cautious because your dads in the FBI but doesn’t he realize that you’re in college?”

You thought about it for a second.

“That’s it! How about you sleep over but I’ll say that you forgot your meds. That’ll give us an excuse to leave”

“Won’t he be suspicious though?”

“Probably not. He trusts you out of all of my friends”

“You’ve got a point. What time am I coming over?”

“What time does the kickback start?”

“9 pm”

“Come over at 7. We’ll be finishing up dinner and it’ll give us time to get ready”

“Awesome”

The both of you packed your backpacks and went home. This would be the first time you’d be sneaking out and you were pretty nervous because so many things could go wrong but you’re with your best friend so, what could possibly go wrong?

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*Hotchner Household- The next day*

You were in your room finishing up your psychology homework when your dad called you and Jack down for dinner

“Y/N and Jack, come down for dinner” he yelled from the kitchen

“I’m almost done! Give me two more minutes!” you shouted

“Come down now before it gets cold”

You sighed and closed your laptop. As you were walking out of your room, you saw Jack coming down the hall.

“I’ll race you to the dinner table. Loser has to wash dishes tonight” you challenged

“You’re gonna lose like you did last time” he said

“That’s only because you pushed me, short stuff” you chuckled

“I won fair and square though, didn’t I?”

“Anyway…ready, set, go!”

The both of you raced down the hallway and downstairs. Your dad heard all the stomping and already knew what was up. You lightly pushed Jack and he tumbled towards the couch by the living room. Your dad had his hands out by his sides, waiting to see who would finish 1st. You ran and tagged in, winning.

“You pushed me!” Jack complained

“I won fair and square though, didn’t I?” you chuckled

“Dad, Y/N cheated and they said that I’d have to wash dishes after dinner”

“Karmas a bit-” you were cut off

“Enough you two. Go wash your hands and make your plate” your dad said

*During dinner*

“So, how was everybody’s day?” he asked

“I found out that we’re dissecting a frog in class next week” Jack said

“They still do that?” he asked

“Yeah, everyone in my class thinks it’s cool but I’m not looking forward to it”

“Why is that?”

“Because, it’s gross. I asked if I could do an extra credit project instead but my teacher said no”

“Sorry bud. How about you Y/N? How was your day?”

“It was okay. We were assigned a group project yesterday so Vanessas coming over later to study. Is that cool?”

“Which Vanessa?”

“Dad. You’re kidding, right? The same Vanessa I’ve been best friends with since kindergarten?”

“Oh, her. Yeah, she can come over. What’s your project about?”

“It’s a research slideshow about human interaction”

“If you have time, you should drop by the office and ask your aunts and uncles for help. Especially your uncle Spencer. He’ll tell you everything you need to know; easy A” he said

Suddenly, his phone chimed.

“Work?” you and Jack ask

Your dad shook his head and took one last sip of his drink before getting up from the table. He was running around the house grabbing his go bag and work essentials.

“I don’t know when I’ll be back but if I’m not back later tonight, Y/N you know the drill” he said

“Close and lock all doors and windows, don’t answer the door, Jack is to be in bed by 9:30 and lights out at 11” you recited

“And Jack?”

“No video games or TV until homework is done and Y/N is in charge” he groaned

“Good. Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Vanessa is the only one permitted in the house. Understood?”

“Yes sir”

“Alright, bye! I love you two!” he said

Your dad rushed out the door, hopped in the car and sped off to work. Your dad pretty much being on call can be annoying sometimes because he’s usually away for a few days and misses out on family time. Usually, it’s a bummer but tonight, it was working in your favor.

“Now what?” Jack asked

“How about we finish up dinner and I’ll help you with your homework so you can have the rest of the night to yourself?”

“Sweet!” he responded

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

*Later that night*

Vanessa had already been at your house for 2 hours and while Jack was getting ready for bed, you were about to leave for the kickback.

“What time did you say your little brother goes to bed?” Vanessa asked

“9:30”

She sighed

“We’re going to be late by then. Can’t we leave earlier?”

“We can’t. If I’m not here to make sure he’s asleep, he’ll be up all night”

“Jacks like what, 10? He’ll be fine. Plus, it’s a Friday night. It’s not like he has school tomorrow.”

You gave it a second thought. Jack is old enough to put himself to bed and the party wasn’t going to be worth going to if you were late.

“Fine. Give me a second and then we can go” you said

You walked down the hall to Jack’s room and knocked.

“Come in” he answered

“Hey bud, are you almost ready for bed?” you asked

“Yeah, I gotta brush my teeth though.”

“Listen, Vanessa and I are going out for a bit tonight. Would you be okay if you were by yourself for a few hours?”

“You can’t leave! Remember what Dad said? ‘No leaving the house after sundown’ ?”

“I know, I know but it’s only for tonight and since Dad’s out at work, I’ll let you stay up and play video games until I get back”

“Won’t we get in trouble? If he finds out, we’re gonna be grounded”

“He won’t find out unless we tell him….which we won’t. Right?”

Jack thought the situation through for a second.

“Right” he said

“Cool. Vanessa and I are leaving in about 5 minutes. Rules still apply to you though. I don’t care who rings the doorbell. If it’s not me or Dad, don’t answer it. Understood?”

“Yeah”

“Alright, all the doors and windows are locked so you’re safe here as long as they stay closed. I’ll be back in a few hours. Love you!” you said

“Love you too!” Jack responded

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

*At the kickback*

This was your first time sneaking out of the house and honestly, you didn’t think your plan would work. You thought that by now you’d be at home getting an earful from your dad because you got caught but, what perfect timing?! Your dad getting called into work the same night?! It’s actually kind of funny how things work out. What could go wrong?

You and Vanessa pulled up to the party and parked in the driveway

“You ready Y/N?” she asked

“Yeah. I just can't believe our plan actually worked”

“I know right? You’re old man needs to let you live a little. You deserve to enjoy your youth. Now c’mon”

As you two walk in, loud music blares from the speaker and there’s people everywhere. Beer cans on the floor and furniture, red solo cups spewed about the floor, the smell of weed in the air and you can tell every guy is wearing cheap cologne because of how musky it is. You thought parties like this only existed in movies.

You knew a few people but due to not being the biggest social butterfly, you decided to cling to Vanessa all night.

“Y/N, this is my old theatre buddy, Vaughn. Vaughn, this is my best friend Y/N!”

“Hey, nice to meet you!” he welcomed

“Nice to meet you too!”

“Vanessas told me all about you”

“She has?”

“Yeah! Best friends since kindergarten?! You two go way back”

“Definitely!”

“This is actually Y/N’s first kickback!” Vanessa chimed in

“Your first? You’ve never been to a party?”

“Not really, my dad’s very overprotective so I never get the chance to really hang out”

“What changed his mind?”

“Actually, he’s out of town at the moment so, he doesn’t even know”

“Ahhh, sneaky you!” he chuckled

“Hey, I’m gonna go get a drink really quick. You guys want anything?” Vanessa asked

“I’m good but thanks” you said

“I’ll go with you” Vaughn said

“Y/N, I’ll be right back but in the meanwhile, go get out of your comfort zone a bit” she said

“Nice meeting you….”

“Y/N” you said

“Y/N! Right. I’ll see you later” Vaughn said

Vanessa and Vaughn made off into the kitchen and that left you to your own devices. You still weren’t comfortable enough to go and be social so you made your way to the couch. Luckily, you spotted the host’s dog and whistled at it. It trotted over to you and jumped up into your lap. This would be your comfort zone for the rest of the night.

*An hour later*

The host's dog had surprisingly fallen asleep while you scrolled through your phone. You weren’t gonna lie. You were sort of envious that it could sleep through all the noise. As you continued scrolling you noticed someone heading your way.

“Is anyone sitting here?” a voice asked

You looked up to see a tall figure with broad shoulders.

“Uh, no. You’re good to sit”

“Thanks” he said

You resumed scrolling on your phone

“Nice dog” he said making small talk

“I’d say thanks but it’s not mine. It just curled up next to me and fell asleep” you spoke

“With all this noise?”

“Exactly what I’m saying!” you chuckled

“I’d kill to be a heavy sleeper” he said

“If only, right?!”

You two sat in silence for a second

“I’m Brady”

“Y/N”

“Nice to meet you. So, how’d you find out about the kickback?”

“My friend is friends with the host so she invited me”

“That’s a good friend!”

“Yeah, this is my first party actually”

“Really? How?”

“Overprotective parent”

“Ah, I know your struggle. Well, if you don’t mind, how ‘bout we drink to that?”

“Uh- okay. Thanks!”

“What’s your poison?” he asked

“I’ll take a beer please”

“A beer? Ooh, so you like to play it safe huh? I’ll be right back”

Brady got up and walked into the kitchen. You were actually excited because not only is this your first party but someone came up to you instead of the other way around.

“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” a voice said

You turned your head and it was Vanessa

“What took you so long?”

“I was getting a drink, remember?”

“It took you a whole hour, 60 MINUTES, to get a drink and find me?!” you joked

“This place is huge”

“It’s a condo ‘Nessa”

“Anyway, you’ve been sitting by yourself this whole time? I thought I told you to go and socialize!”

“I did! I met this guy, Brady, and he’s getting us drinks”

“Oooo! I know you had a little game in that beautiful brain somewhere. Well, let me go before I ruin your moment. I’ll be in the living room if you need me” she said

Vanessa ran off again. Just as she left, Brady came back with drinks.

“Una cerveza for the party virgin” he said

“What?” you chuckled

“One beer like you asked” he chuckled

“Oh, thank you!”

“To your first party and to many more” he toasted

You two clanked your cups together and took a swig

“For someone who seems to be so sheltered, you sure downed it with no problem” he said

“Well, my Uncle Dave is italian so everytime we go to his house, he cohearses my dad into letting me have a little wine. He says the drinking age in Italy is 16 so, why not?” you chuckled

“Lemme guess, he’s the crazy relative in the family?”

“No, that’d be my aunt Penelope but he’s a close second”

The two of you talked about family, your dream career and your taste in music for about an hour. You were starting to think that maybe it was a good idea to sneak out. You would have never met Brady and the more you found out about him, the more you started catching feelings for him. Or maybe that was the beer talking. Speaking of beer, you were starting to think that that beer didn’t sit right with you. You started feeling dizzy and sick to your stomach.

“Hey Brady, I gotta go talk to my friend really quick but I promise I’ll be right back”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m just not feeling the best”

“Do you want some water?” he asked

“I’m fine. I need to find Vanessa though”

You stood up and immediately sat back down

“Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want to lay down?” he asked

“I’m fine” you said

You didn’t notice but you started slurring your words. Things were going downhill and fast. Brady didn’t….no, he couldn’t have. Things were going so well with him and you thought you could trust him. He couldn’t have possibly done that to you. You couldn’t yell for Vanessa over the loud music let alone stand up without falling over. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.

“Come on. I’ll take you to one of the bedrooms and you can lay down there until you feel better” Brady said

Fuck. You knew what you wanted to say but you couldn’t speak without slurring your words. Everything you said came out as incoherent. Brady stood up and helped you stand up, using him as a support. He started walking you towards the back until you felt a hand yank your hand

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!” a voice yelled

Vanessa. Wait.. the voice was masculine.

Vaughn.

“I’m just helping them lay down. They’re tired” Brady said

“Leave them the fuck alone” Vaughn said sternly

“Mind your business dude” Brady retorted

“I know them so it is my business. I’m not going to tell you again. Leave them the fuck alone”

Brady dropped you but Vaughn quickly caught the rest of your body.

“Have fun with them, douchebag” Brady stormed off

Vaughn fireman carried you into the living room and sat you down

“Hey Y/N. It’s Vaughn. Are you okay?” he asked caringly

“Mmmrrmgh” you slurred

Shit.

“I’m gonna get Vanessa. I promise I’ll be right back, okay?” he said

Your head lulled around and you couldn’t move your limbs. All your energy was draining. This made him panic. As he tried to get you to squeeze his hand to get a response out of you, everything faded to black.

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

*45 minutes later*

You woke up but everything was blurry and everything sounded muffled. You were laying down but your sickness was worse because you were being jostled around.

“There they are. Hey sweetheart. Sir-” a voice said

You looked up and saw a dark figure. Your head was on someone's lap.

“Y/N? Come on sweetheart, keep your eyes open for me” the voice said

You took a few shallow breaths before attempting to sit up

“No no, stay still, okay?”

That voice was way too familiar and it made you feel at ease. There was only one person that could clear the clouds out on a rainy day with just their voice

“Aunt Penelope?” you softly spoke

“At your service!” she said

“Y/N?” another voice said

“Dad” you cried

“How’re they doing?”

“They opened their eyes a bit and heart rate is still pretty high but they’re stable” Penelope sighed with relief

“Dad? What’s happening?”

“Y/N? Can you hear me?”

You nodded your head.

“That’s an affirmative” Penelope relayed

”Listen, we’re heading to the hospital right now. You were drugged and you stopped breathing. We’re almost there so just hold on for me, okay?” he said

His voice was borderline quivering. He was scared but wanted to stay strong for you and the team. He already lost Hailey and lord forbid he was going to lose you too

Penelope rolled the window down a bit  so you could get some air but right before she could touch the button, your eyes closed again.

“Sir-”

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

*At the hospital*

You opened your eyes and saw a handful of blobs that got clearer as your eyes adjusted to the light.

“There they are!” said Rossi

“It’s about time” said JJ

“You were scared us for a second there, kid” said Morgan

Your whole family was there, excited for you to finally pull through

“Y/N!” Jack said excited

He hugged you and you had no choice but to hug him tighter. On any other day you’d be wrestling him for the remote but considering what happened to you tonight, you needed a hug from him

“For the record, I didn’t tell dad” he stated

Everyone laughed

“I got you lavender and chamomile tea, your favorite” Reid said popping his head in

“Uncle Spence!” you said

As you grabbed your tea, you saw your dad out the corner of your eye. Uh oh.

“Can we have a moment, please?” your dad asked

Everyone filed out and the door closed. He walked over to the blinds to close them.

“How’d you find out?” you softly asked

“Vanessa called me practically screaming that you were dead! You’re lucky that the case we’re working is local! What were you thinking?! You lied to me, waited until I left the house to sneak out to a party and thought ‘what could go wrong?’ ?!” he raised his voice

“Dad, I’m-”

“What? You’re sorry?! Y/N, before we got there, you died in Vanessa’s arms! How do you think I felt? I couldn’t get to you fast enough. I had to push my way through a bunch of teens just to find my kid dead”

“What do you want me to say dad? I’m sorry that you’re still dealing with trauma from mom dying, so much so that you’ve become a helicopter parent over Jack and I? If that’s what you’re looking for, it’s not my fault that she’s dead. ”

The room went so silent you could hear a pin drop.

“I didn’t mean-”

“I know”

Your dad started tearing up

“When I saw your body laying there, all I could see is your mom all over again. I was afraid that I’d have to tell Jack that his only sibling is gone, plan another funeral, and spend a lifetime beating myself up for not being there quick enough.”

“Dad, it wasn’t your fault though. It’s Foyet’s. He’s long gone now and you did what you could. This? This was my fault. I never should have snuck out. I never should have lied to you. Had I listened, none of this would have happened”

“None of this is your fault. It’s whoever did this to you’s fault.  The sneaking out part, I would have found out eventually and you would’ve been grounded until eternity but to find out this way? I could care less about punishment right now, all I care about is that the Hotchner kids are safe. The BAU might be my job but being a dad comes before anything”

He hugged you and squeezed you tightly.

“I love you more than you’ll ever know Y/N. Don’t you ever scare me like that again”

“Yes sir and I love you too”

A knock came from the door before being slightly opened

“Garcia wanted me to let you know that Quantico PD has the perp in custody and he’s being processed at the station” Prentiss softly said

“You hear that?” your dad said

You smiled

“I get to have a field day with him tomorrow. He has no idea what he has coming to him”

[tobi-momo]

Contradicting Colors

Pairing: Model!Kirishima x Photographer!Reader

Genre: Romance, Fluff, a lil pining

Word Count: 3.1k (sry not sry :p)

Synopsis: When given a new project due within a week from your boss, frustration is all you can see before a certain someone becomes your inspiration.

Warnings: alcohol consumption (barely anything), cursing

a/n: omg its finally here!! valentines day!! im so excited to be a part of Project Runway, featuring many other amazing writers! pls pls pls enjoy this i had so much fun writing it and even though i changed the plot halfway through i made it work- kind of. this is only proofread once, so if you see any mistakes i am so sorry kaskjdsf- happy valentine's day everyone and i hope you guys have an amazing day with your friends/ loved ones <3333

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

“Yes. Yes, sir. I understand.” The volume of your voice graduating slowly as you move to balance your phone between your shoulder and your cheek, your hands moving to grab your camera, the strap in the way of you comfortably holding your phone. “Next week? How many?” You hold in a sigh as you furrow your eyebrows in frustration, not wanting your irritated expression to show through the phone. “Yes, I can do that. Thank you. Bye.” Ending the call with a low beep, you whine in frustration while you turn around, taking in your surroundings.

What were you gonna do? You had a week to send your boss a couple hundred pictures of bright, unique pictures. In the middle of winter he decides to assign you this project. ‘To show off the start of spring!’ he says. You loved your job, but couldn’t you at least have an easier task in the winter than this?

Maybe you could find inspiration somewhere in the park. Something bright and unique, huh? Shouldn’t be too hard. The fog wasn’t really helping though, masking the natural essence of the park, although you could still see happy couples walking around, hand in hand while they talk about God knows what. Young women walking their little dogs down the walkway, while others are out for their morning run. This wasn’t helping. Central Park would be an amazing place to find inspiration, you thought. No. It wasn’t. Especially with the dreary weather, you weren’t hopeful.

Boring. That’s what this was. Boring. The boring weather, the boring mood, the boring assignment, the boring-

Bright red, spiky hair pops into your vision, sticking out like a sore thumb in this weather. What is that? 

The red head turns towards you, although facing his phone, scrolling through whatever occupied his screen. He didn’t seem to notice you staring at him in awe, or the fact that he just became your new inspiration. His bright scarlet hair contradicting the slow, sad, tired weather, brightening the whole scene. He looks like he would have a beautiful smile, and his build looks like he would give the best hugs.

You are thinking way too hard about this. But… you do need some pictures for inspiration, so why not ask him? He radiates sunshine through the fog, even if he was doing something so mundane as looking on his phone. Just ask him, that’s it. Just. Ask him. 

Taking a step forward, you grab the strap of your camera, sliding your phone in your jacket pocket before taking the last sip of your coffee, throwing it in the metal trash bin a few feet away from you. 

“Um, sir?” You ask politely, your hand raised in a half wave, hoping he understands that you are the one calling him. “Hi, I’m Y/n L/n, and I was wondering if you’d let me take your picture for an article i’m doing,” you continue, trying your best to sweet talk and not lose him. He smiles politely, but it doesn’t look genuine. It looks like he’s done this before, many times, now that you think about it. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, bringing his hand to the back of his neck, awkwardly scratching. Shit. You lost him. “Although I’m glad you guys asked for permission this time I don’t want anymore pictures taken.”

Huh? What the hell was he talking about?

“What?” You question, utterly confused. His head reaches out around you, looking around in the bushes, round the trees, though his vision murky from the fog. 

“Sorry, but you guys have been following me everywhere. I’m just on my way to work, you guys don’t need a picture of me everywhere I go.”

Who was following him? What the hell is he talking about? 

“Who’s following you?” You turn your head around you, trying to find the imaginary people around you two. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“No need to act all clueless, I found out you were paparazzi, so just go home,” he says with an attitude that irks you.

Now you were mad. Obviously being patient with him wasn’t working. 

“Sir, I don’t know who you are, or why the paparazzi is following you, but I am not one of them.” His eyes widen in shock, looking between yours to see a fault, not succeeding. “Do you talk to every stranger like you’re some celebrity that can’t be bothered?” His head jolts back, as if he was offended. “If this is the way you act, honestly I’m surprised anyone likes you, let alone the paparazzi.” His mouth opens in protest, words failing to find their way out as you continue to spit words at him in anger. 

Something catches his attention, causing his head to snap up, his eyes squinting to try and see through the fog. He hears a couple clicks, then sighs, looking back at you.

“This project is due in a week and y-”

“Okay, I’m sorry, just, could you be quiet for a sec?”

“Quiet? With all due respect you can’t tell me wha-”

~Click, click, click~

His hands slam on your shoulder moving you forward and rotating your body; your back faced the walkway, you trying to turn your head from the giant tree in front of you. “He- hey! What are you doing?”

A bright flash blinds your vision, your arms immediately come to guard your face, your knees bending as if to try and duck from the light.

“What the hell?”

He gives you a sympathetic look, then grabs your arm, dragging you away from the lights. Or, he was attempting to.

“I told you, the paparazzi likes to follow me everywhere.��� His rushed pace speeding up while he drags you with him, your hands flailing around, trying to find a grip. 

“Hey, let me go!” You shout, his head shaking before leaving the park, tugging you in an alley before stopping, his hands still firmly gripping your arms, keeping you in place. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Stop talking for one second!” He interrupts you, his expression seeming a little...pissed. “I told you, the paparazzi is following me around, what don’t you get?”

“Why?” His face turns into a sort of confusion, like he expected you to know who he is.

“Wh- i’m,” he exhales sharply, frustrated. His eyes drill into yours, again scanning to try and see how you’re not understanding. Were you really this dense? “I’m Kirishima Eijiro!”

“Who?” He backs up, his head tilting to the side. Huh. You really didn’t know. That’s the first. Seriously. 

Sighing, he lets out a little chuckle. You couldn’t help but giggle a little back at the situation, the whole ordeal not making you as mad anymore. A few snickers turning into having to clutch your stomach in hopes that it doesn’t cramp from you wheezing too hard. You could see Kirishima leaning on the wall to try and not collapse on the cement. Was it a sort of rush? Was it the complete obliviousness? Hell if you know, but God, did it feel good. 

You understood why he dismissed you, and why he said the things he did, knowing that the paparazzi came anyways just making you feel even more stupid for not catching on quicker. His smile definitely is breathtaking, but you still needed to find out if he gives the best hugs. Maybe one day, but not while you guys are struggling to stand up.

“I’m guessing running away to an empty alley wasn’t exactly ideal for taking pictures, huh?” He pokes, calming himself down, a lot more comfortable with the atmosphere.

“Yeah, you’re right, but i’ll just find some more inspiration later,” you respond, remembering his refusal.

“Oh, I mean, you could, or I could always help you after some coffee?” He proposes, like it was a risk. 

“Coffee, huh? Well, I already filled myself up on that today, but thank you,” you turn him down politely, “but maybe tomorrow? Would that be alright?”

He smiles, a soft, sweet smile that will definitely not leave your head for the next few days, nodding while standing straight up with his feet fully planted on the pavement. A cute, innocent blush creeps upon his face, his expression making you not want to leave. But alas, you were on your way to work. 

“Um, I should- I should go, I can’t be late, but I’m sure that I’ll be able to find you somewhere, being the Kirishima Eijiro,” you tease. He understands, and doesn’t want to keep you waiting, so he watches you leave, his eyes trailing along your legs as you turn the corner, disappearing from his view. 

Wow. You were mesmerizing. Why is it now he’s just experiencing something like that? He loved it and hated it at the same time. But now he has to deal with the publicity of what just happened. Shit. He needed to get that covered up. Before he could even dial his publicist, a notification pops up on his screen:

 “Y/N L/N has followed you”

A smile of relief and a sort of excitement crawls on his face as he taps on your account, scrolling through the pictures that you’ve taken with your camera. He didn’t think you were that good but, damn, was he wrong. You were good with your colors; he liked that. Maybe him being your model could be better than he thought.

~.~.~.~

“Kirishima, no, you can’t just- don’t move!”

“What, I’m just making it better!”

“You mean you’re making it worse!” You laugh, turning your camera and pressing the shutter button as Kirishima jokes and teases, messing around like an absolute child. Which you can’t help but adore. The past few days you guys had spent together was absolute heaven, almost like you never had any problems. The stressful assignment now turned into a fun project as you two walk around the city, talking about yourselves, getting to know each other before parting to see each other on a new dawn. Him being your model was perfect, although knowing he didn’t have much time until his shows, you tried to pry yourself into his schedule. He didn’t mind it either. 

“Okay, okay, what abooouutt, this!” He exclaims as he holds his arms up, flexing his muscles with a cheery grin decorating his face. 

“Mm, absolutely beautiful. You look so manly,” you joke sarcastically.

“That’s good! That’s what I’m goin’ for,” he replies. You giggle at his statement, not understanding why everything he says is funny, and why you laugh every time. 

“Annndddd, last one!” You shout before the shutter clicks and the light flashes at Kirishima, who is unbelievably keeping his pose perfectly. “Okay, I think these are enough for now. Thank you again, Kirishima, I would completely lose hope if you didn’t offer.”

“Hey, It’s no problem, plus, technically you asked me first- I didn’t offer.”

“I guess you’re right, but still.”

“Right, right. I get it. But this is fun so I’d rather be doing nothing else.” Oh, how you loved those words. You wanted to hear them more often. You just wanted to hear his voice more.

“Well that’s good. I-” you interrupt yourself before grabbing your phone from your vibrating phone from your pocket, a text from your boss telling you to come in late. “Oh, I guess I gotta go,” you both frown, “but I’ll see you tomorrow!” 

“Wait! I uh, I wanted to ask you something.” You stop before him, his eyes suddenly not wanting to find yours. “I have a plus one to my shows, if you want to come,” his eyes widen and he quickly back pedals his words, “you don’t have to! I was just curious!”

“Sure!” You beam, absolutely delighted with the thought of going to one of his shows. You’ve seen his pictures. He was incredibly good at what he does, and you wanted to see all the seriousness of it up front.

“Really?” He hesitates, as if he didn’t hear you correctly the first time.

“Of course! I’d love to! I shouldn’t take pictures though, should I? Maybe a video? I’ve seen videos of people but I don’t think-”

“Yeah, you can take pictures, as many as you want. Plus, being at my show would help with your boss, right?”

“Mhm!”

“Great! Then it’s a date!”

His face immediately freezes, the blood disappearing from his face then suddenly reappearing like a firework, turning his face a heated red that only made you blush further. 

A- a date? 

“Uh, yeah,” you try to play it off, trying not to explode with seven different emotions at once, “it’s a date,” you emphasize the word ‘date’, it getting caught in your mouth and hard to come out once you grasp what you’re saying. Man, you two looked like middle schoolers.

~.~.~.~

Arriving at his show, you did not expect this many people. Well, you expected it, but didn’t want it to be true. It was like you were being trampled on trying to get into your seat. The paparazzi wouldn’t stop bombarding you and Kirishima, wondering if you were his ‘new lucky girl’. You politely waved at them, although the urge to flip them off once they got too close was starting to overflow your system. Kirishima was there to pull you aside though, telling you not to worry about them, leading you inside. He left you by your seat to go get ready; it was obvious he was nervous, but your attempt at cheering him up seemed to work. 

The announcements run quickly before the stage lights flash on, the music starts, and the colored LED lights fill the runway.

~.~.~.~

You were in shock. Absolute shock. You could barely process what was going on during the afterparty, one that Kirishima took you to after the show. You couldn’t stop thinking about it. He winked at you. On. Stage. In front of everyone! You were pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to do that, but he did. And the result? You being unresponsive even two hours after the event. 

“Y/n, it was just a wink! No need to get so nervous!” Kirishima yells over the music, trying to shake you out of it, trying to get you to loosen up, maybe even have a drink if you wanted, just, not stare into space with your mouth open. “Here, I am going to make you a drink, my signature, and I want to know if you like it, okay?”

You nod, your eyes coming off the crowd to his beautiful red eyes. “I don’t want to drink much tonight, tho. I have to be functional for my project tomorrow, remember?”

“Mhm, that’s why I’m only giving you a sip. I’m not gonna drink either, these parties always have some weird stuff in everything, so don’t take anything from anyone except me, okay?”

“Sure. But, do we really have to stay here? I mean, watching other people get stupid drunk is fun but the music is loud and we can barely hear each other,” you shout, him agreeing with you. 

“Alright, just stay here I’ll be right back, we’ll leave soon, okay?”

He comes back in a quick minute, a small crystal glass with a pink liquid inside, sparkling as the bubbles of carbonation rise to the top. 

“What’s it called?”

He shrugs, perking his lip out. “I haven’t thought of a name yet, never really intended to. Just try it.” Rolling your eyes, you bring the glass up to your lips, then turning the glass upwards, emptying the alcohol into your throat, although there isn’t much of a burning sensation like you thought there would be, more of a gross wine taste. This was champagne. He laughs at you when you completely deadpan him, trying not to smile. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t have a signature drink. I just wanted you to try the champagne.”

“Why didn’t you offer the champagne then?” You accidentally let a laugh out, still trying to be serious.

“I just thought it would be funny.”

“Well, funny you are, mister manly man,” you tease. You always thought it was cute and funny when he got super giddy when you called him manly, it’s something he likes to be told, obviously. “Let’s go somewhere else, now, shall we?” You perk up, his arm out for you to grab and hold onto as he leads you outside to his ride. He opens the door for you, then closes it once you’re in, hopping in the other side. 

“So, where do ya wanna go?”

“I don’t know, actually, I guess I didn’t think of that,” you chuckle.

“Well, I know a place if you’re up for it. It’s not that far and I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“Sure, let’s go then.”

~.~.~.~

Flowers. Everywhere. Covering the field and illuminating in the moonlight. Pink round petals sticking from the center of the top of the light green stems, yellow and purple daisies rest in the meadow, their colors contradicting each other perfectly as the stars make everything glow. The clear skies make the rest of the clear visible to you, hills full of tulips and carnations. Dragonflies and butterflies roam the air, making it their home. This was magic. You couldn’t believe your eyes. How did he find this place?

“Kiris-” you stutter, turning towards him, an excited and happy look on your face, “this- this is beautiful. How did you find this? Oh my god.” You couldn’t help but chortle at the sight. It was too beautiful. He takes a step closer to you, his gaze at the grass below him.

“I thought it was perfect for your project, you know? The start of spring? These flowers and the butterflies and th-”

He couldn’t speak. His voice was muffled by your soft lips on his, your hands moving to cup his face while you screw your eyes shut. He’s surprised, to say the least, not expecting this. You tasted like champagne, but he didn’t hate it at all. He liked it, more than he thought he would. He places his hand on your waist, pulling you closer, wanting more of you. You don’t even realize how much time passes as you two stay in each other’s grip before you disconnect. The feeling in your body was euphoric, you never wanted it to go away. His hands graze up your waist and up to your face, cupping it gently before he leans in to press little kisses on your cheeks before straying away from your touch.

“Let’s take those pictures, now, shall we?”

~.~.~.~

taglist: @combat-wombatus​ @toosharkinternet​ @hitosushi​ @alpha3113​ @katsuhera​ @zerohawks​ 

[nephilimsarchive]

Chaos is a ladder | Joker x reader smut | NSFW

Summary: The riots have never been more crazy, yet the only thing the Joker can focus on is a beautiful stranger. He gets what he wants, when and where he wants. Even if it’s in the middle of a street. 

Note: I’m back for good, sorry to keep you waiting. Hope you enjoy. x

Warnings: unprotected sex, (very) public sex, voyeurism

Word Count: precisely 3700

Writing for the Gotham Times. It was what you always wanted to do for a living, being the aspiring journalist you were. But once you got the job you questioned it all.

Your superiors either treated you like you didn’t even exist, or like trash, they criticized every word you committed to paper. Over time, you got used to spending more time preparing coffee than articles. That was until that day those three men in suits were killed by whatever guy dressed as a clown. It was one hell of a story, and as soon as you heard from it you started gathering information. You drove to the local police and you started writing. Hours were spent sleepless, typing word after word until sunrise. In the morning you stormed into your boss’ office, plopping your work onto his desk.

With his eyebrows raised he glanced at you skeptically, but started reading. Studying his expression as he read, he seemed.. almost impressed. Like he was seeing you for more than the pretty young thing that brought him coffee each morning for the first time.

From then on, you were assigned to keep up with the clown vigilante and his followers. Your articles were finally published, and you even got promoted. In a way, you acquired a sense of gratitude for those revolutionists and their unknown leader. On the one hand you felt like you understood them, you began to like the idea of wanting to change the society you lived in. But maybe, just maybe you were slowly making your way up to the top yourself. And that, on the other hand, was thanks to them. You pondered all of this as you sat on your sofa, clutching a mug of hot chocolate. The telly was on in the background, notes sprawled out in front of you when something caught your eye.

The Murray show was on, and in strut a guy clad in an outrageous outfit: His hair was colored green and slicked back, his makeup was like those clowns that you saw everywhere. He flicked his cigarette away and danced in wearing a red suit, blue button up and a bright yellow vest. He seemed confident beyond belief, and you just knew that this guy was exactly what your article needed.

You watched his every move and took notes, listened to his every word intently until the conversation turned much more threatening than witty. You remembered his face then, his video had been on the show before. He was the same guy who was made fun of for his comedy show at Pogo’s, that Club right around the corner. But that man sitting there, the joker, seemed so very different than the one from the video. He just admitted to murdering people. He seemed colder now, calculating, dissociative. The joker said it himself then. He had lost it all, nothing can harm him anymore. And you felt for him. People screamed and ran out of the studio after he shot Murray, and as much as you should’ve been creeped out yourself, you were more intrigued than anything. His first shot landed on the hosts forehead, then another three into Murrays chest. The joker held everyones attention as he made sloppy steps towards the camera. His hands clasped around it and you almost felt as if he was looking right into your eyes as he mocked the jingle of the show.

The program shut off then, bringing you out of your trance. That was him. The infamous clown vigilante was a guy like anyone else, pushed into madness by the community surrounding him.

You gasped as the sound of glass shattering made your head whip to the side, almost straining your neck in the process. Something broke through your window, glass shards were scattered over your floor. It took you a second to realize that orange fume was steadily rising in your apartment. Only then you perceived all the turmoil outside, you heard crashing sounds followed by screams, tires were screeching, sirens distantly rung through the air.

You grabbed your jacket and stormed outside. Your mouth dropped open as you perceived the mess. Gotham stood in flames, shattered glass from broken windows lay all over the busy streets. People in masks were everywhere, breaking into cars and shops. They were stealing, screaming on top of their lungs, anything to protest against the oppressive system they lived in.

At first you had thought these people were insane, dreaming of a revolution they couldn’t achieve. They’re no better, you had believed, using physical violence against suppression. But much to your surprise, within the past days and weeks of studying their motives, you had understood them more and more.

For a while you just stood there, letting your gaze wander as you tried to take in all the things that were happening at once. A police car turned into your street then, the sirens painting the walls of your house red and blue. When you noticed who was inside, time seemed to stand still. The joker was leaning his forehead onto the window of the backseat, an expression of pure joy graced his features. He must enjoy being the cause of all this madness, finally being noticed, being worshipped. You were pulled out of your thoughts when his eyes shifted to yours. Your lips parted involuntarily as you held his piercing stare. They drove by in what seemed like slow motion and he didn’t once break eye contact. You felt like he didn’t even blink. The last thing you saw of him was how the corners of his mouth turned into a satisfied smirk.

Your eyes lingered on the car for a few seconds, finding yourself in a trance-like state once again. Something about him just seemed to have that effect on you.

Suddenly, an ambulance drove right onto the side of the police car, crushing its side and dragging it to a halt. Your feet acted on their own, sprinting, bringing you closer to the vehicle. Closer to him.

A crowd gathered in no time as the jokers limp body was pulled out of the car window and laid onto the hood. You didn’t notice any of them, he was the only thing you could focus on right now.

Blurred chanting rang in his ears as the opened his eyes, the metallic taste of blood on his tongue. He remembered were he was then, and what.. or who he had seen. „Get up!“, they shouted.

And how they cheered as he did. His back was turned to you as he lifted his arms, basking in his audience’s reaction. In a swift move he turned, owning the stage he created on the car as his fingers traveled to his mouth, smearing the blood to his cheeks into a devilish smile. This whole time he had been looking up over the crowd, into imaginary spotlights and cameras. Slowly his head turned down, and his eyes immediately landed on you again.

The way his eyes wandered over your smaller form made your knees grow weak. In fact, you didn’t even notice how some people ran on again, continuing their rampage. You saw nothing but him, and how he stepped down the car casually as if he was walking down stairs, striding towards you. He stopped right in front of you and you felt nothing but him, his hand traveling up to your hair, twisting the end of one of your locks in his fingers, then moving to your chin. Were you feeling anticipation or fear? You didn’t know.

“What’s your name, Kitten?” The way he spoke sent shivers down your spine. A million times you had thought about how it would be to meet him in person, but now that he was so close to you, a wild stare in his eyes and an amused smirk on his lips, you felt nothing but questionable lust for this man. “F/N.. I’m F/N L/N.” He let the hand that held your chin fall.

“Y/N.”, He repeated your name, tasting it on his tongue, “Pretty name for a pretty face. But.. I feel like I’ve heard that before. F/N L/N.” He saw the blush rise to your cheeks, your breathing accelerating as you avoided his eyes. You felt like a hormonal teenager in his presence, he chuckled at your nervousness. “So you are the mysterious lady who kept writing about me in those newspapers, huh?”

You looked him in the eyes at that, noticing that he seemed even closer than before. It never really crossed your mind before that the mysterious clown vigilante could be reading your articles himself. „Yes.“, you exclaimed, voice steady in an attempt to regain some of your confidence. „I gotta admit, you’ve really done your homework. All of that research you must’ve spent hours on, hmm?“ he laid his hand on your cheek, gliding his thumb over it soothingly. You almost felt ashamed at the heat that started pooling in your belly at his actions. He stopped to look at your lips, tracing them with his thumb. You caught your own stare shift to his parted lips, feeling like you two were playing a dangerous game. Anticipating each other’s next move. He ran his hands down your arms, intertwining your fingers and pulling you flush to his chest. A breathy whimper escaped you at the sudden proximity. „I bet there’s some things about me that you are still dying to find out.“, his face inched closer, his lips centimeters apart from yours. He licked his lips. „Isn’t that so?“ You dared to look up at him then, suddenly aware of how much your breasts were pressed against his torso. His pupils were blown wide, a mixture of various greens swam in his orbs. Fuck it, you wanted him. You nodded.

Immediately, there was that damn evil grin again. He’d won your little game, and you were his prize, his prey. His lips claimed yours shamelessly, and he tasted like pure sin. The smell of cigarettes filled your nostrils as you could make out the metallic taste of blood on his tongue. Kissing him felt like he had never done anything else in his life. Skillfully, he was drawing little noises from you, seemingly without an effort. He was all over you, gripping your hips and neck, spinning you around, then forcefully backing you up against the car. You felt the cold metal and glass on your lower back as he had reached his destination. Every now and then someone would whistle as they ran past. Fuck, for all you knew there could still be people watching somewhere. His senses felt heightened as he held you trapped between the car and himself. You tensed anyway, and he noticed. Slowly, as sensually as he could muster he withdrew his lips from yours, searching for the expression in your eyes. His voice was husky, „Having second thoughts, kitten?“, he raised his brow slightly. For a split second you wondered whether it was a hint of insecurity, or whether he was amused at you trying to resist him. His lips brushed your cheek, interrupting your thought. „Can’t blame you.“ He moved to your kiss and nibble at your neck between each of his sentences. His right hand moved from your hips upwards. „I am a stranger, after all.“ He was just under the curve of your breast now. „And we’re in the middle of a street.“  His voice vibrated against your skin as his other hand travelled from your neck to your shoulder, further down until he was right over your tailbone. The tingling feeling in your core got worse with every second, especially with him being so close to where you wanted him to touch you.

He knew exactly what he was doing when he found that sweet spot on your neck, pulling his lips away way too soon, clicking his tongue. His thumb brushed over your breast, feeling your painfully hard nipple through your shirt, „But isn’t that…“, pinching your sensitive bud, „…exactly…“, his other hand cupped your ass suddenly, squeezing it „…what turns you on so damn much right now?“. You couldn’t stifle the loud groan that escaped you then, and seeing his reaction didn’t make you want to hold back anything anymore. He growled dangerously, grinding his hips into you, making you feel how hard he was for you. If anyone would have told you something like this would happen and that you’d damn want it, you wouldn’t have believed a word. But here you were, his little teasing was all it took to make your caution fly out the window. The city was on fire, who would give a fuck if you’d let him take you right here? In fact, who’d dare to mess with you if you were with him?

Fueled by a sudden rush of adrenaline and confidence you grabbed his tie, pulling him close again and smashing your lips on his. He was stunned for a second, kissed you back for another. Too soon he gripped a fist full of your hair, pulling you back just a bit. „Tsk, tsk. Feisty, kitten, are we?“, he was trying to stay playful, keep his cool, but you could see the ever growing darkness in his eyes when he pushed one of his knees between your legs. His index finger was cold against the burning hot skin under the waistband of your jeans. „I gotta admit, I do like a woman who knows what she wants, but right now I need you to …obey.“, he drew out the last word longer than necessary. The sound of him pulling down your zipper made you want to press your thighs together, anything to ease the building pressure on your core, but you couldn’t. „Hands behind your back, Y/N. And you better keep them there.“ You did as he said, eyes looking up at him pleadingly, waiting.

„Good girl.“ With that, his hand disappeared under your panties, rough fingers finding your clit in no time. You cried out and bucked your hips at the sudden stimulation. The joker growled at the wetness that coated his fingers, rubbing tantalizingly slow circles. Your eyelids closed shut tightly, the pleasure he was giving you almost painful to bear. „That’s right. Let me hear those moans of yours. Don’t you dare hold back.“, he ordered. All of his focus was on you in that moment. A whole city burned for him, but his eyes were glued to your flushed face. They trailed to your parted lips as your more frequent and louder moans signalized how close you were. Your head fell back, you were so close you could almost taste it.

Just then he pulled away.

You were left with a throbbing core and soaking wet panties. Enraged and done with his antics, your gaze fell on him again. He was smirking - still, or again. And licking his fingers clean. My god, that view did not help your case. He looked horribly, dangerously sexy. Your anger melted away, just like your inhibition.

„Undress for me, kitten.“, he rasped huskily. His eyes seemed darker now, and the painfully obvious bulge in his pants made it clear that he wanted, no, needed this just as much as you did. So this time, you didn’t hesitate. Looking him in the eyes your fingers slipped under the hem of your sweatshirt, pulling it up slowly. Paying attention that your hands barely hovered over your skin, brushing against it every now it then. You just broke eye contact once - shortly - while the fabric was in front of your face. He had been undressing you with his eyes the whole time, but the way he licked his lips as he saw you drop the shirt carelessly, mixed with the cold air of the night made goosebumps rise over your skin.

After that you turned around, fingers wandering over your waistband, bringing your pants over the curve of your butt. Bending over, you swayed your hips as your jeans brushed against your thighs, finally slipping your legs out, one after the other. Thank god you had chosen to wear flats before you left your apartment, you thought and turned around. Shooting him a sexy grin he cursed under his breath, and closed the distance between you again. His hands were everywhere, groping your breasts, your bottom, painting a map of your body with his fingertips. Lifting you up with strength you didn’t know he possessed, you were more than happy at the effect your recovering ego had had on him.

His manhood was rock hard and throbbing, you felt it after you had wrapped your legs around his middle. Turning around he sat at the edge of the hood, you straddling him. A part of you wondered what he looked like underneath the suit he was wearing, but another part liked the way it was right now. In a way you were vulnerable, being almost naked in front of him, in the middle of the city streets. And he, he was dominant, in control, fully dressed. Nonetheless, he somehow made you feel both powerful and protected.

Your hand travelled up his torso, clasping behind his neck while he trailed open mouthed kisses over the exposed flesh of your cleavage. His lips found yours again, teeth grazing your bottom lip. You kissed him back hungrily, grinding yourself against him to relieve yourself of the aching in your core. Low moans escaped him at your actions, leaving you panting when he finally pulled back.

„Ride my cock, babygirl.“, the Joker ordered, holding you close by your hips. For a short moment you almost felt embarrassed at how very wet you were in this peculiar situation. There was a literal riot going on, cars were crashing and buildings exploding. Yet the only sound that mattered to you right now was him unzipping his pants. He stared at your face as he aligned himself with your pulsing entrance. Pushing your underwear aside, you let yourself sink down on him completely and every sound you perceived was drowned out at once. Everything but you and him. He let out a throaty moan as you took him in. Reveling in the feeling you threw your head back, being filled up completely by his length. You felt amazing around him, clenching tightly around his cock as you came to a quick and steady rhythm. The sight before him made him feel like every weak moment in his life is compensated by how powerful he felt with you right then. You held onto him, tits bouncing and carelessly moaning his name. Until a low whistling sound coming from somewhere next to you made you snap out of your ecstasy.

Someone had been watching you. You were aware this could happen, but.. god. A shiver ran down your spine as your face turned a shade of red you hadn’t thought humanly possible. The joker could read the emotion on your face. „No need to be embarrassed now, babygirl.“, he noticed the way your hips slowed, lifted you slightly and thrusted his hips up instead. You struggled to stifle your gasp. He craned his neck then, shooting the unlucky soul who disturbed you a furious glance. „Fuck off“ Barely escaped the Jokers lips before the intruder had run away.

„Better?“, he asked, with an amused but somewhat sincere expression, pushing in and out of you the whole time. „Yes.“, you nodded, feeling your juices slowly dripping down your inner thigh. You were getting close as he picked up speed and he knew. Hell, this turned you on more than you’d like to ever admit. His hand flew to your hair, tangling in it and making you look him in the eye. „Yes, what?“, he demanded, slowing his pace again until he heard what he wanted to hear from you. „Yes, sir.“

„Good girl.“, he said but pulled out anyway, leaving you whimpering. His hands found your butt then, squeezing before switching positions, laying you on your back on the car in the process. The tip of his erection was pressed onto your entrance again, making you wiggle your hips in anticipation. Nothing happened. The joker stared down at you almost lovingly, a wicked glint in his eyes. „Beg for me.“

“Please”, you didn’t even care anymore, “Please, fuck me. Please make me cum, sir.” The look in his eyes at you being so willing in front of him was priceless. His mouth opened slightly, licking his lips instinctively. For a split second there it was again. You thought you saw a hint of insecurity in him, before the gears inside of him shifted and he rammed himself inside of you entirely. Not a trace of shame was left within you as you screamed his name. He was pounding into you mercilessly, chasing yours and his release. The words and exclamations you moaned turned into absolute nonsense as you were getting close, hearing him letting out more and more groans himself. His thrusting became slightly erratic when he bent down to speak into your ear. “Come for me.”, he said in a low but stern voice, and your body obeyed. You let out an inhuman scream, him working you through your orgasm. You clenched around him uncontrollably, completely overwhelmed with the sensation. A string of obscenities mixed with your name left his lips. You felt his cock pulsating inside of you when he spilled his load.

He was hovering over you for a while, catching his breath. You didn’t mind, you liked the heat that radiated off him. You liked seeing nothing but him in front of the night sky in that moment. After a bit he pulled out of you, a smile lit up his face when he drew back. Your eyes met and your expression matched his, an ecstatic glow surrounding you. He outstretched his hand to you, helping you get off the car while he looked around. “What a night, hm?”

You laughed as you collected yourself, trying to look like you didn’t just have the best sex of your life in the middle of the city.

“What a night, indeed.”

[noctuascion]

Don't think I've sent you a prompt yet. So here ya go. Possible fluff prompt: Crypto gets sick and Mirage has to look after him.

Ahh, the good ol' sick fic, my favorite. Ty for your ask!! I'll do my best!!! ✨

---

Mornings were always particularly hard for Park. The night prior was either spent restlessly looking through files on his computer, or he was struggling to remain asleep due to constant nightmares or insomnia. Sleeping was something that merely evaded him, and he was thankful the cameras never zoomed in too much, otherwise they'd see just how fatigued he usually was during games, even if he still managed to pull his weight, if not just by a sliver.

Mornings were spent sleeping in until he couldn't stay in bed any longer. Breakfast was either skipped entirely or the bare minimum—toast and coffee—and all of his other meals were relatively spotty as well. He sometimes forgot lunch entirely, and, if it wasn't for Makoa politely asking him to join them for dinner, he'd probably forget that, too.

He ate very little, unconsciously trying to conserve his food, a habit likely picked up from his days with Mystik at the orphanage. His preference for junk food and takeout didn't provide for a healthy diet either, hence why he could admit he was a bit on the skinny side.

Coupling that with his horrible sleep schedule could likely provide an explanation as to why he woke up one morning feeling uncomfortably warm, head aching something terrible, throat sore, congestion in his nostrils, and limbs weak, a feeling of fragility he despised. He hadn't been feeling the best these past few days, but he had just assumed it was just a lack in sleep.

The hacker groaned when he tried moving, the action upsetting the headache he was currently nursing, before looking to the clock beside his bed. It read six thirty-seven, which meant he was up way earlier than he normally was. The other Legends tended to tackle the day before the sun was at the zenith of its arch, but Park preferred sleeping in, especially on days off.

However, with how horrid he currently felt, like he was overheating in his blankets, he couldn't see himself doing much else besides laying in bed, more miserable than he usually was.

That is until he heard a knock on his door, a rhythmic seven taps that indicated only one person.

"Rise and shine, butterscotch!" came Elliott's voice, providing yet another ridiculous appellation assigned to his person. "You said we could go see that cool fireworks show later, and I thought: why not get there and enjoy the festival for a bit?"

Oh, he had completely forgotten about the supposed "festival" being hosted by Hammond Robotics, some ridiculous, over-the-top celebration about nothing Park could bring himself to care about. He had said he didn't want to go, but Elliott had nearly begged him to go—and he agreed, though he didn't want to be around people for too long. His boyfriend understood his introverted tendencies to a degree, but Park knew there were still aspects he was oblivious to—much like how Park was completely oblivious to any and all aspects of Elliott's extroverted personality.

When no answer was had, Elliott opened the door with the spare key provided, something Park entrusted him with for situations just like these. Sunshine incarnate stepped inaide the surveillance expert's gloomy abode, donning that fond smile and gentle eyes. If Park didn't feel like absolute garbage, he'd happily welcome the other into his room with a hug and a kiss—if he was feeling confident enough, that is.

"Hey, you wanna get up anytime soon?" he asked gently, nothing condescending or belittling in his tone. He sat down on Park's bed, the mattress dipping with the added weight, and cringed upon seeing his boyfriend. "Wow, you look like shit—worse than usual—n-not like you're ugly or bad looking—it's just that you don't sleep much and—"

"I'm sick…" Park managed, immediately regretting it when he heard just how congested he sounded, how his throat burned at uttering just two simple words.

"Y-Yeah, I can tell."

Elliott's too warm hand came to rest on Park's forehead, the back of his hand pressing delicately against heated skin. He already felt like he could snap in half—he didn't need Elliott treating him like he would.

However, Park couldn't find it in himself to be angry—not when Elliott was shining those puppy-like eyes at him, concern painting his handsome features. Frankly, he felt bad for making him worry, but it wasn't exactly something he could stop.

"My poor shortcake. You got hit hard, huh?" the trickster whispered, likely taking into account Park's possible headache, his hand sliding along heated skin to gently cup the other's cheek. "Lemme go to our lil' clinic and grab you some meds. I'll ask Makoa if he can get me some tea for your throat and sinuses, too, m'kay?"

"Unnecessary…" he mumbled, hoping the quieter volume wouldn't elicit any flaring pain; it did, but not as severe. "I'll wait it out… Don't worry…"

"… And you call me an idiot."

Park wasn't exactly the easiest person to get a request from. Elliott had asked him countless times what he wanted and needed, getting the same responses over and over again, like he was a broken record. He hated feeling like a burden, and hated feeling indebted to someone. Elliott had to learn from picking up on social cues just to figure out he wanted a hug. Getting him to voluntarily ask for help, especially since he's too sick to go to the festival, the one Elliott really wanted to take him too, would be potentially be near impossible.

Park was stubborn, but Elliott was, too.

"Sweet angel that fell from the heavens, my beautiful boy, the cutest shortcake to exist—just let me do this for you." Hopefully, the puppy eye look was enough to get his stubborn lover to finally give in and let him be taken care of. "I love the shit out of you, and I hate seeing you sick. Lemme help you feel better—or I'll just have to kiss you better."

"Then you would end up sick, moron." Park pulled up his blanket a bit to cover the cough suddenly shaking his frame, expression pinched and pained; it was probably murder on his already sore throat. "Fine… But I promise to make up for the festival…"

"You don't have to, hon. Just feel better soon."

Despite knowing Park would protest, Elliott leaned down to press a kiss to the other's skin, a hand leaving the comfort of his blanket to swat him away, eliciting a laugh from the trickster.

Quickly, he made his way out of the hacker's room, shutting the door quietly behind him, before hurrying off to fetch the promised items. He asked Makoa first if he'd be willing to make some tea, explaining that Park was feeling under the weather, and even offered to make soup for him. The man was a saint, laughing off Elliott's "would that be asking too much?" with that same boisterous laugh. Afterwards, Elliott made his way to the clinic, their resident medic checking over medications and organizing her supplies. After explaining his symptoms, Ajay provided some ibuprofen, asking if he'd tell Park to "get better soon so they can even the score."

Once the medicine was acquired, Elliott returned to the kitchen, where the scent of ginger and tomato seemed ever so prominent. Makoa waved him over, allowing him to see the progress. He wasn't finished just yet, but he would be soon.

And, once he was, Elliott placed everything on a tray and brought it back to Park's room, where the hacker had fallen asleep in, though his slumber looked anything but peaceful. Elliott set the tray at the end of Park's bed, making sure it wouldn't tip over, before gently placing a hand on the slumbering man's shoulder, gingerly shaking him awake. Glazed over hazel optics moved to blearily stare at Elliott; said man could only smile once seeing him awake.

"Makoa made you some tomato soup and ginger tea, and Ajay gave you some ibuprofen," he said, moving to grab the tray and bring it over. "You think you're strong enough to eat and drink?"

A tired nod was all he got in response, Park's arms moving to push him up into a sitting position. Elliott moved his pillows around a bit so they'd provide some support for him, setting the tray in his lap. The hacker attempted to take a whiff through his congested sinuses, humming when the ginger tea provided some semblance of assistance.

"Okay, you eat, take your meds, and I'll go run you a cold bath."

"Cold…?" the hacker suddenly asked pitifully; he wasn't particularly fond of lower temperatures…

"It's to help with your fever, baby. I doubt feeling like you're cooking alive under your blankets is a good feeling."

Park let out a huff, a hand reaching for his ginger tea and the other taking the recommended dosage of ibuprofen. "I guess you're right…"

"I'm always right. The rightest man on the Frontier. You won't find a righter man than me." Elliott leaned over to press another kiss to heated skin, receiving yet another swat for his efforts, which, in turn, elicited yet another chuckle from the taller. "Enjoy your soup and gross meds, angel cake."

With the wave Park sent his way, Elliott hurried off to do as promised. The bath wasn't frigid, but it was just a little below lukewarm. He didn't want the other actually freezing; his sensitivity to the cold was cute, sure, because it meant more snuggles and hugs when they were out in the cold, but he didn't want to actually bring his boyfriend any discomfort. He even put in that little Nessie rubber toy the other insisted he hated, even though Elliott's seen him admiring it or even having it in his tub when he's washing up.

When he finished, Elliott returned to see Park had finished up most of his soup and that his tea was nearly gone. He assumes he took the medicine; Park's never given him any reason to doubt in the first place.

"Finished?" he asked, receiving a nod. He lifted the tray off the other's lap, setting it on his desk, which had a few takeout containers and papers strewn about. They'd have to clean that later. "You okay enough to walk to the bathroom?"

"Yes."

"Cool, cool."

And, despite the answer that couldn't have been anymore straightforward, Elliott moved forward, pulled the blanket off, slipped his hands under the baffled hacker's legs and back, and lifted him up like he weighed almost nothing. Park's arms unconsciously wrapped around his neck in a panic, already red-hued features darkening at the sudden action.

"I said I can walk," he muttered angrily, glaring up at his uncaring boyfriend, who didn't seem bothered by the scowl adorning the hacker's visage. Frankly, it's lost any intimidation it used to have and just reminds Elliott of a feral but sweet cat.

"I know."

"Then put me down."

"Nah."

"Idiot."

"Shortcake."

And if bathing with Park, who had rested against Elliott's chest the entire time, pliant and quiet, nearly dozing off, wasn't worth missing out on the festival, then watching as the hacker drifted off to sleep later that night, content and comfortable in Elliott's arms, definitely made it worthwhile.

He couldn't help but press a kiss to the other's forehead again, knowing that, if the other was awake, he'd just swat him away like he normally does. Even though Park's fever worsened, fluctuating between stable and unstable, and eventually broke a few days later, Elliott didn't mind any of it, didn't mind the fact that they missed out on a few date opportunities, that they missed movie night and a few hours of sleep. Seeing his lover get better made any problem worth it, and the smile he got was all the reward he ever needed.

[darylandbethfanforever9]

Downfall Of Us All: Chapter 5

Downfall Of Us All

Chapter 5

Warnings: Mentions of grieving, brainwashing and nothing too graphic.

AN: Credit goes to @jtargaryen18​, for helping me write this story and encouraging me to branch out into writing dark avenger stories. She is the best.

"She'll be with Clint Barton, another member of our team. Hawkeye."

Sophie didn't recognize the man's name but Hawkeye she did know. The archer and spy who so often worked with Black Widow. "He's one whose children…" Sophie knew she really wasn't in the position to make demands. "Is he… a good guy?"

Nodding, Bucky lightly squeezed her hands in his flesh one, trying to be encouraging. "He's a good guy. Steve and I trust him with our lives. So, does Natasha."

Sophie shook her head. "I'm not trying to make it sound like that means nothing to me, but I don't really know any of you. She's the only family I've got." "You'll get to know us," he explained quietly. "You'll be part of our family. But you know Peter and like him." "Sorry," Sophie said, pulling her hand back and rising to pace in front of him. "What does all this mean? Do we become Avengers? What happens to our shop? Can we keep it? Do we lose it? Can we still live in our apartment? What about our cats?" She stopped, noticing that Bucky was just watching her. The emotions coming off him were sympathetic, kind. It was unexpected given who he was. Who he used to be anyway. "Did you sign up for this? Or were you… I mean…" She didn't know how to frame that question. "Left with no choice?" he finished for her. "Yeah, well, it depends on who you ask." "What do you mean?" Sophie wrung her hands as she stood before him. Bucky leaned forward, taking her hands in his to steady her. His dark blue eyes gazed up into hers. "Do you know any of my story?" Sophie nodded. She thought she knew a lot of it anyway. "I had been a brainwashed assassin for HYDRA for decades when Steve and Nat brought HYDRA down and exposed their infiltration into S.H.I.E.L.D. During all of that, he also managed to set me free," Bucky explained, willing her to listen and consider his words. "For the next couple of years, I was a fugitive, and that's not an easy life. I spent most of my time dodging Steve, trying to piece my life back together. When I was framed by Zemo for the bombing that killed the king of Wakanda, I didn't have any choice but to go with Steve. And he damned near tore the team apart. For me." Sophie's heart went out to him. She hadn't been through a thumbnail of what he had. "Somehow Steve and Tony were able to talk and work it out, to bring everyone back together to fight Thanos. Part of those negotiations was that I'd become an Avenger and I'd use my… abilities for good. So, would it have been my choice to be here?" He didn't answer the question, leaving her to draw her own conclusion. It wasn't that difficult.

"No, you didn't choose to be here. You wanted to be left alone in peace, didn't you?" She asked quietly, Bucky nodded silently and sighed quietly. "I was happy in Wakanda, I lived in a rural village and protected the villagers and their wildlife. The children call me the White Wolf, I prefer it to the Winter Soldier." He said finally, and Sophie understood what he had told her. Bucky hadn't had a choice in the negotiations, and he genuinely didn't want her and Grace to be hurt, or imprisoned. "I'm sorry, Bucky." Sophie said sadly, she was genuinely sorry that he had suffered all these hardships and swallowed. "Before I agree to this decision, what will happen to our apartment? Our shop, and pets?" She asked worriedly, genuinely worried. Their new landlord wasn't a pleasant man and was constantly raising the rent. They'd barely been able to pay this month's rent, and she dreaded next month's rent. "You'll be able to keep the shop, but I don't know about the apartment. Tony might know about that, but you can keep your pets." Bucky said comfortingly, Sophie felt slightly relived at hearing this. "Thank you, Bucky. I agree to joining the Avengers, but can me and Grace at least get our possessions?" She asked quietly, Bucky nodded and guided her out of the room. She was grateful and smiled at seeing Reg and Paul charging towards her. The two black cats raced over, meowing softly and Sophie cuddled them both lovingly in her arms. Reg sniffed at Bucky's metal arm and swatted at it. "He's a sweet cat, very curious." He said amused, as they saw Grace's cats charge out of their pet carriers, and into the living room.

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Clint had gone to get Grace, so she could be told the decision and see Sophie, when she raced to the pet carrier and saw he saw Lucky sniffing at the pet carrier. Grace stroked him, and the golden Labrador happily licked her as she opened the door. Cats ran out, including a fat, tabby and ginger cat with a massive stomach. "Hello, Custard." Grace said softly, crouching down and one of the cats had decided to play with Clint's shoelaces. He stroked the tabby cat, and he purred. He noticed that one of the cats was slightly wearier, and only went near Grace. It was a big fluffy black and white cat, allowing Grace to pick him up gently. "Clint, this is Tom. He's a bit shy of new people, but he loves this," Grace said softly, and made a little ball out of spider webbing for the cat to play with. Tom pulled at it, and happily chased it as the tuxedo cat followed after him curiously. Lucky was being snuggled, by a fluffy black and white cat. "Did you rescue all of these cats?" Clint asked impressed, a black cat with slightly bendy back legs prowled over with a purr. "Some of them are strays, Patch and Tom are strays along with Salem." Grace explained softly and swallowed. "What will happen to me and Sophie? Are we being imprisoned, or sent back home?" Grace asked wearily, holding Tom close. Clint looked at her properly.

"No, you're going to be Avengers." That got her attention. "What?" "Yeah, you'll be joining us here, Grace. Bucky's been assigned to Sophie and I've been assigned to you. You'll be trained as Avengers, go out with us on missions," he explained. "But you can keep these guys and your shop. It could have been worse." "Can we see each other?" Grace asked even as her head was spinning trying to take in everything. Be trained as Avengers? Her and Sophie? Well, Sophie would be just fine. Clumsy as Grace considered herself to be, she'd be killed early on. It was almost a sure thing. "Will Sophie be okay with him?" Grace didn't mean for her tone to sound as worried as it did. Clint nodded his understanding. "Hey, he's okay. Considering his history similar to your own, he and Nat will be good mentors for you guys. Help you fill in some of the blanks in your family's history, you know?" "No offense, but he's terrifying to look at," Grace admitted. "I get that," Clint said, chuckling. "You probably felt that way about me too at first." "No," Grace told him, keeping a straight face and watching him look at her in surprise. "No?" Clint asked. She didn't miss the way he pulled his shoulders back a little. After a moment, she couldn't help but grin. "You givin' me a hard time already and we haven't even gotten started?" Clint grinned at her, his blue eyes kind. "Maybe," Grace told him, setting Tom gently on his paws and trying not to grin. "I'm a little intimidating?" He teased. She had to laugh at that, missing the way he stared at her as she brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. Rising to her feet, Grace thought hard about their circumstances. "Clint, what if I can't do this?" "Can't do what?" He asked, moving a tiny bit closer. She motioned at him. "Be an Avenger. Like you? You know?" "Why can't you? You're… fit. You look fit. Healthy. Yeah, that. You're young, healthy enough," Clint stammered over his words a little, his gaze moving over her quickly. "Young, maybe. Healthy? Not like that," she said, huffing out a laugh. "I work in a bakery." Clint's expression sobered but wasn't less friendly. "Well, there may be a bit of a learning curve. I never said it was going to be easy. But we can work with you guys. Build you up. You're not in real trouble until you get to Steve. He forgets sometimes that not all of us are enhanced like he is. If you can make it through that…" "He really is Captain America, huh? He's that good?" Grace had to ask. Clint nodded. "Nat tries her best to corrupt him. Mostly, he's all that. Yeah." "They're together?" "Yep." "Okay, I just have one last question then," Grace was hesitant to ask. But she had to try. "Do you think… could you guys help me find my son."

"We'll help you in any way we can, Grace. We're not on the greatest terms with S.H.E.I.L.D. There's a lot of bad feeling between us, with everything that's happened." Clint explained quietly and took her right hand gently. "We'll help you, find your boy. I promise Grace." He said comfortingly, he wasn't going to give her false hope and he knew that she appreciated that. Grace smiled at him quietly, she appreciated his words and just wanted to find her son. If he was......dead, then at the very least she wanted to put him at rest.

They could return to their apartment, so they could take their things, and Grace quickly went into her bedroom to pack up her belongings. The landlord wanted them gone by next Monday. She picked up a framed photo of Zach smiling at the camera, sitting on her lap with a happy smile on his face. It had been taken at his fourth birthday, and they'd had his birthday party at the Stark Children's Centre. She clutched it tightly and put it in plastic wrapping, so it wouldn't get damaged on the journey back to the compound. She wiped her eyes and took in a deep breath before gathering all her things and packing them into boxes. She'd miss this apartment but missed the apartment in Queens more than this one. Clint came in to help Grace pack up the last of her things and saw a bedroom that had been locked. She saw him looking and swallowed quietly. "That's Zach's bedroom, I haven't been able to go in there since he was taken away. His birthday's coming up, and I just feel numb inside," Grace whispered haunted, she walked towards it and opened the door. Clint saw the walls had been painted different colours, one wall was painted with pictures of dinosaurs that were roaming the land. The next wall showed marine life, and the third wall showed the sky, and a forest. "Zach loved animals, he wanted to be a vet." Grace said softly, and Clint saw the last wall depicted space, with different planets on the wall with glow in the dark stars glowing. Clint watched as she picked up Zach's clothes, and began putting them away in cardboard boxes. She was trying to be strong, but he quietly walked over and helped her pack. Just like Natasha had helped him pack away Cooper and Lila's clothes, and possessions.

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14th of June 2019. Clint carefully began packing Copper and Lila’s things in cardboard boxes, Natasha helping him while the rest of the team packed up what he wanted. He couldn't stay at this farmhouse, not after everything that had happened......what Laura had done. Cooper and Lila had been buried next to his mother, and brother two days ago. At least he could visit them, regularly. He looked at Cooper's artistic drawings, tears stinging his eyes but all he could feel now was a dark, malevolent sense of hatred and rage towards the woman who had once been his wife. He thought back to Tony's joke, when he'd taken them here after the fight with Ultron. Tony jokingly saying that Laura was a secret spy. Oh, the fucking irony.

He glanced out the window, watching Steve, Bucky and Tony loading boxes into the back of the U-Haul. If it had been left to him, he would have just boxed up anything that had belonged to his kids and struck a match for the rest of it. Burn down what he knew was all a lie now. Nat talked him out of it, convincing him to sell the house, donate the items in the house he didn't want to keep which was most of it. "You okay?" Nat had place a hand on his shoulder, trying to lend him comfort. "As much as I'm going to be," he told her, trying not to shake in rage as he stood in the small room where he'd come to read to his son at night, to tuck him into bed. "I just want to know why. Of what benefit was this – all of this – to HYDRA? To have some woman approach me, seduce me, create a life with me that included innocent children. I just… Why? Why go that far?" "You may never get an answer for that though I hope you do," Nat hugged him from behind. "The thing that scares me is how many other families are out there like this? Some unwitting person, living like you did. For them to have Laura go so far as that makes you think there are other cases out there. Many of them. Gathering intel." "Even one of the Avengers," Clint raked a hand through his hair, sank down on Cooper's bed. "I never had a fucking clue. I believed all of it, everything she told me." "Clint, there's no way you could have known," Nat sat next to him. "With all the missions we've been on, what we've seen and done, you'd think I would have noticed something. Something, Nat," he was almost shouting. "And I still could have lived with it all if I could have just kept them." "We'll find her," Nat promised him. "We'll stop her, and we'll stop Rumlow." Yes, they would. Laura wasn't going to get away with any of it. If it took his last breath, he'd make sure of that. And Rumlow, well, he knew he wasn't alone in wanting to put that bastard down. Nat had held onto him as he'd cried again for the two, small people in the world he'd loved the most. Nat felt his loss, she'd loved them too. More than their mother had. Nat had helped him finish gathering his children's things, had helped him pull himself together enough to thank the team for their help and leave the place that had once been his heaven.

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Clint knew just by looking at Grace, she genuinely understood what he had gone through and knew what it felt like. But Grace had it worse, she didn't know if her son was alive or had died. "I wanted to thank you, for being in that dream and letting me see Cooper and Lila. It means a lot to me," Clint said quietly, genuinely grateful. Grace gave him a gentle smile, and she started packing Zach's stuffed animals. She sniffled, when she saw the white fluffy teddy bear that she'd gotten for her baby boy, when he'd been born. "You don't have to thank me, Clint. I didn't do anything, your children just wanted to see you." Grace said softly, she finished packing up all of Zach's things. Clint saw the bookshelves had been cleared away, and now they were empty. He couldn't help but think Grace was stronger than she looked, most women wouldn't have kept the baby, but she had. He helped her carry the boxes outside and saw that the neighbours were helping as well. Clint saw a few of the young women, were hugging Grace and Sophie tightly. "We'll miss you two, dorohotsinni divchynky." A young woman said sadly, and she genuinely meant it. Grace hugged her, and Sophie was comforting a young woman. It dawned on Clint, that these neighbours were probably like extended family to Sophie and Grace. And that made him even more pissed at Ross, and Gonzalez.

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Bucky helped Sophie pack away the delicate objects in the living room, which were matryoshka dolls lined up on the mantelpiece, next to porcelain dolls in a glass cupboard. "Papa was always good at carpentry, he used to make furniture and a dollhouse for me and Grace," Sophie said sadly, looking at the framed photo of her father. Bucky looked at her quietly, and decided to speak. "I think that your parents genuinely loved each other, Sophie. Your father wasn’t like the other Winter Soldiers, who were sadistic, and violent." Bucky said quietly, trying to console her. Sophie looked at him intently.

"What about you?" "What about me?" He asked quietly. "You were a Winter Soldier," she pointed out. "You were the Winter Soldier. Were you sadistic and violent?" Bucky's gaze dropped to the floor as he considered how he wanted to answer that. The thing he knew he wouldn't do is lie to her about anything. "I was," he admitted. "I executed people on HYDRA's orders for decades. I killed people, probably many innocent people, in brutal ways. But my actions were carefully controlled. The Winter Soldier was HYDRA's creation. That's not who I was. Those actions weren't mine. I still have to live with that knowledge, those memories when they show up. I guess where I'm going is that was how life was for your father too for a time. But that's not who he was. I'm not sure how all of that with your parents went but… somewhere during it all, he decided he cared. He cared enough to take care of her, to take care of you and your sister. He was strong." Sophie blinked back tears, going back to work wrapping the dolls in newspaper. "Thank you. For that. I mean it. Our lives haven't been easy. but we always cared about each other, you know? To have someone rip you out of that life and tell you such… ugly things about your family, to rip apart everything you thought you knew about your own existence? It's just a lot to take." "I'm sorry it was given to us to have to tell you all of that." He wanted to help her wrap the dolls, thinking if he primarily used his flesh hand that maybe he could pull it off. "Now that you're part of the team, we can help keep you two safe. Tony, Steve, and Nick Fury run the show. They can help us shield from anything else Ross thinks up." "I never want to see that asshole for the rest of my life," she said vehemently. Placing another doll in the box, she started to get another, noticing he was very awkwardly lifting another one that had long red ringlets for hair. She fought a smile as she watched him pick up some newspaper and left him to it, fighting a smile. "So how is this going to work?" Sophie asked. "Training? Going out on missions? I mean, do you think we can do it?" Frustrated as he was, he managed to wrap the red-haired doll up in two very wrinkled papers. But it worked. He glanced up at her as he added the doll to her box. His eyes were so blue. "Given what I saw when we came into your apartment that day?" he asked with a smirk. "Yeah, I think you can do it." "You broke into our apartment," Sophie reminded him, smiling. "The balcony door was wide open. Steve came to the front door." "Why didn't you?" "Come to the front door? That's not my style, doll." He started on another doll, this one going slightly better. "You took my rifle." "Yes, I did," Sophie said as they worked at packing. "Can you climb up a wall like your sister did?" He wanted to know. "Yeah, the webbing lets us climb, stick to... stuff." "So how does that work?" Bucky asked her, placing his second wrapped doll in the box. "Same way as Peter's I'm sure," she said without pause. When she saw he was still waiting for an answer, she stopped. "You've never asked him." "Kid's usually up Tony's ass," Bucky told her. "I don't think I've actually had a conversation with him. Always did wonder though."

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tagging list: @jtargaryen18​, @marvelfansworld​, @sapphirescrolls​, @kitkatd7​

[mlovesstories]

You Know What You’re Doing Part 6

Words 3600

@spnbingo square: bed sharing

Warnings: Kidnapping, cussing, physical and mental abuse, arrests, guns, emergency response teams

AN: Not a medical professional over here.  Since the whole chapter is rough, I did not indicate any areas to watch out for. 

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“Ah!” YN jumped and turned with the baby in her arms, grabbing JJ and pulling her to the older one’s body. “James?” YN beamed. “Hi! Don't do that!” She shoved him jokingly. Noticing that she recognized someone, Jensen ran over to make sure she was alright. The oldest male walked to James and squared up to him. “Stop, Jay! He’s a friend!”  YN stood in between the two until Jensen’s shoulders relaxed.  

The younger male was not intimidated.  

“Hi, nice to meet you, sir. I’m James.” He extended his hand to shake Jensen’s. His tall stature and broad shoulders oozed a quiet confidence. He turned back to YN. “Wait- he’s- we used to watch him on TV! You get to be Jensen Ackles’ foster?! Are you kidding?” James laughed in approval.

“Yep!” YN smiled widely. “He is not that cool though,” She nudged Jensen.

“What?” Jensen put a hand on his chest, feigning hurt. “So, who is this?” He composed himself.

“Oh, I was in the system with YN. She’s like my little sister. I aged out, but we were in the same house for a while,” his expression faltered. Jensen noticed YN’s frightened eyes at his mention of her housing history.    

“Well then, it’s nice to meet you, James. We’re going to this taco truck for lunch, would you like to join us?”

“Uh, sure. Could I have a picture with you first? I’m sorry if that’s stupid. We just love your show so much. Right, YN?”

“You’re selling me out!” YN giggled.

“I didn’t know you were THAT big of a fan, YN.  Good to know!” Jensen laughed. “Really though, I don’t mind the picture, and you’re more than welcome to join us for lunch, James.”

“I’m only here to take pictures for my photography class, so I don’t need to be anywhere,” he grinned. James handed his camera to YN who did her best to take a photo of them with one hand since Arrow was in her arms.

“Here,” Danneel walked over and took the baby from YN. Danneel walked away from YN while the boys smiled.

“Perfect!” YN squealed.

“I’ve missed you, YN.” James walked back to her to retrieve his camera.

“You too, James.” She gave him a side hug as Arrow said hello from Danneel’s arms.  

“Hi, little one.” James waved.

“Come on, I’m hungry,” Jensen motioned for them to follow. James stayed in the back of the group with YN

“Did you see that guy? He looked almost exactly like-“

“Don’t, Jamie.” YN walked faster to catch up to the group.

“I’m just saying it was creepy,” he whispered as they threw walked up behind the family.

After everyone ordered, they sat at a lunch table. YN and James were uptight with the reminders of their previous treatment.

“You guys okay?” Jensen looked over at them, reading their stoic expressions. “Aren’t you glad to see each other?”

“Oh, yes! Just taking it all In, sir. It’s great to see her again.  We went through a lot when-“ he stopped as YN sucked in a breath. “Never mind.” James cleared his throat. “I have been keeping up with the show. Are you on hiatus right now?” He looked to Danneel and Jensen.  

“Yeah, it’s nice to be home with my four babies,” Jensen winked at YN. She rolled her eyes with a hint of a smile on her lips.

“I’m not a baby!” JJ piped in.

“You’ll always be his baby,” James assured her with a smile.

“He’s right, you know.” Jensen nodded. “Always and forever.”

————

YN and James walked to his car as they said goodbye. Having swapped phone numbers to stay in contact, the two hugged.

“I love you, James.” YN squeeze him tightly. He returned it with picking her up slightly. She chuckled. As he let go, they heard a click.

“Freeze,” a person behind them demanded. They both did as asked. “Get in the car.” A gun was put to James’ head. “You don’t cooperate, he gets hurt,” she growled at YN.

As YN gasped, she saw who was ordering them around.

“Susan?” 

“I knew I saw Terry,” James whispered.

“He ain’t here! Is his wife not good enough for you?” The lady returned, talking about herself. “Get in! It’s my turn with you two.” She released the slide on the gun to show her seriousness.

YN screamed. Danneel and Jensen looked over as the two teens were shoved into James’ car with him in the driver’s seat.  

“YN!” Jensen ran toward the situation, but it was a lost cause. They were speeding out of the parking lot. “No!” He screamed.  “Dee! We need to call 911!” He sprinted back his family and took Arrow out of Danneel’s arms and put her in the stroller so that her hands were free.

“911 Emergency, how can I help you?”

“My daughter and her friend just got kidnapped by a crazy lady! Please send help to 32nd and Southern. It’s at Mountain Top Park!”

“Sir, what did the car look like?”

“Brown sedan. Toyota Corolla, maybe? 2015 model… I think.”

“What did the female look like?”

“Umm, gray, curly hair, mid-fifties, maybe 5’9”, but she had a gun. Please hurry!”

“What was she wearing, sir?”

“Pink shirt and gray shorts, I think. Please just said someone!”

——-

Once the police took witness statements, they put out an Amber Alert for YN and took a missing person’s report for James. The police team set out to look for the pair.  

“You need to find her!” Jensen yelled at the cop, realizing the official was in ho hurry.  

“Sir, whose fault is it that she went missing, huh? You are her guardian assigned by the state! Nice job, Hollywood!” The police officer gritted his teeth.

“Excuse me? This is not my fault! It doesn’t matter what my job is.  Bring her home!  Do you watch your fourteen year-old child all the time?” Jensen growled and stood square with the cop. “Because if you do, he or she will never learn to do things on their own!”

“You’re under arrest for interfering with an investigation, Mr. Ackles!” The investigator turned Jensen to face away from him. As the officer was cuffing him, Jensen’s phone rang. It vibrated on the hood of the cop car, so Jensen alerted him of who was calling.

“It’s YN!” He ripped his wrists out of the officer’s grip and picked up the phone. As the officer realized what happened, he tried to restrain him again. “YN, tell me you’re okay.”

“Jensen,” YN whispered. “I’m scared.”

“Okay, we’ll find you. Can you turn your location on? Is James with you?” Jensen tried to stay quiet. The officer froze when he understood what was happening. Jensen motioned for a pen and paper. He wrote down YN’s cell phone number and for the police team to track it.

“Yes, I can. He is here. He got hurt trying to protect me though. I’m in the trunk with him- no!”

Jensen heard scrambling and screaming on YN’s end of the phone call.

“YN!” He yelled.  The call ended. “DAMMIT!  Stop worrying about me and get my girl back!  Now!” Jensen stormed away from the cop toward his family.  Danneel looked up.  He didn’t tell her much, he wanted to spare her the details. His wife’s shoulders were tense from keeping the other kids calm.  “We’ll get her back.”

______

“You little devil child!”  Susan screamed at YN.  “You thought you could reach out to your new daddy without me knowing?  I could hear you from the DRIVER’S SEAT!”

“He needs a hospital!  He won’t wake up!”  YN climbed out of the trunk while James was unconscious, limp in the small compartment.

“He’s fine. James can’t defend you now, you brat.  Come here!”  The lady pulled her gun off of her holster.  YN stopped in place, scared.  “Move!” The next thing she saw was dark walls all around her.  Her breathing quickened.  As she took in her surroundings, she heard a door from above open.  Scampering backward, she pinned herself against a wall, afraid of whoever was coming down the stairs.  A body tumbled down and hit the landing, the door slammed shut.

“James!”  YN shrieked.  “I got you.  Wake up, Jamie!” YN crawled to him, realizing her broken ankle was no use.  “Hey, Jamie!”  She shook him multiple times in quick succession.  

“Ugh,” he moaned.  “YN? What happ-”

“Shh.  You’re okay.  Sit up,” she pulled him forward.  “Breathe.”

“Are you okay?” James took her into his arms.  

“Yeah.  I think my ankle is busted, but I’ll be fine.  How’s your head?”

“Headache.  So bad,” he whispered.  

“Okay, let me see you.” James backed away from her.  She tilted his head toward the light streaming through a small window.  “Looks like a concussion.”

“Great,” he rolled his eyes.  

“No, it’s okay.  Close your eyes.  You’ll feel better.” YN smiled.  “Lay down,” she guided him to rest at her side.  They both heard rustling at the door of the basement.  Susan stomped down the steps.  

“Here!  Be grateful!” The older women threw a couch bed mattress toward the two people lying on the floor.  It landed on top of them.  The corner stitching caught YN on the face.  

“Ow!”  YN pushed the mattress off of herself.  She reached for her cheek which was now bleeding.  

“That’s what you get for being a skank!”

“Why do you hate me?  Huh?”  YN screamed at the woman.

“Good night!”  Susan took the stairs two at a time before shaking the basement with the closing of the door.  

James flattened out the bare mattress onto the floor.  “Come on, lay down,” he maneuvered YN’s body trying to not hurt her ankle.  She scooted onto the uncomfortable surface with his help.  James closed his eyes, fighting to keep them open.  

“Rest.  Come lay with me.”

“No, I’m fine.  You take it.  I’ll stand watch-” he curled over, falling asleep.  YN tried her best to pull and push him onto the mattress while he slept.  She lied next to him, fighting her own tired body.

———-

Jensen walked away from Danneel. He put his head in his hands.

“Jay,” his wife whispered, coming up behind him.

“Go be with the babies.” He couldn’t look at her.

“My parents took the kids. Come on,” she pulled him into her. “It’s not our fault. Don’t let that cop get to you.”

“He’s right.”

“Bullshit. We saw what happened.   It’s not our fault. Get that out of your head, and let’s get her home.”

“What happened?”

“Sarah?” Danneel looked over at the woman running toward them.

“Law enforcement alerted me since YN is a ward of the state.” She stopped in front of the couple.

They explained the situation as best as they could recount for Sarah. She tried to hide her emotions, but the caseworker stepped away for a moment to collect herself. As she joined them again, a police officer approached the parents.

“We found her cell phone.  On the east side of town.”

“Please tell me It’s not on the way to Second Street and San Jac. Sarah asked, tense.

“A few miles from there, why?”  The officer confusedly raised a brow at her.

“Terry and Susan,” Sarah surmised.  “That’s right by their house.”

“No.  You can’t be serious!” Jensen took his baseball cap off and threw it to the ground. “The guy that hurt her?  Kill his ass!” He kicked his hat, sending dirt everywhere. When he looked up, he saw Danneel’s eyes tearing up.  His body relaxed and pulled her into his body.  “We’ll figure it out.”

“Can you give us the address?  We can go check it out,” the investigator asked Sarah.  

“Yes,” she took a relieved breath.  “Let me call the office and get it for you.”  The caseworker stepped away and pulled out her phone.  When she got off of the call, Sarah handed a slip of paper to the police officer.  He ran toward his team to investigate the address.  “Those assholes.  I tried to get her out of there, but there was nowhere, I mean NOWHERE for her to go.” Sarah ran a hand over her face.  “I- I did everything I could.  I even tried to get her placed with me, but-” she took a deep breath.

“Not your fault,” Jensen weakly smiled.  “I am going too.”

“No, Mr. Ackles!” Sarah yelled as he started to walk away.  “That man- he will- just don’t.  Please.”

“I need her to be okay, Sarah,” Danneel chimed in.

Jensen continued toward his car.  

“Sir! You need to stay here!”  One of the officers caught the conversation.  “Stop, or I will detain you!”  The man in his black uniform saw Jensen still ignoring him.  Two officers chased after the foster dad.  As Jensen stormed toward the driver’s side of the vehicle, they pushed him against it, his chest hit the window.  The officers pinned him against the door. “I told you to stop!”  The original officer used his forearm to make sure Jensen was pinned..  Before he knew what happened, he was in cuffs.

“I need to get her back!” He moved his shoulders to push the officers off.

“Sit down, or I will put you in my car,” the investigator growled.  Jensen gritted his teeth and groaned out of frustration, but he followed orders.  He plopped onto the dirt parking lot, leaning against the vehicle tire.  

“Jay!” Danneel ran over. “What are you doing?” Sarah watched from afar. “I am about to have a mental breakdown, and you get arrested?  Really?”  Danneel crossed her arms. “Sir, please don’t!”  She faced the higher ranking officer. “We just need to get YN back.” She looked back to Jensen.  Silent, he hung his head.  

“He can stay there until he follows directions,” the investigator answered and walked off.

“Ya know, a lot of the time I feel like an effing single mom, but I have never felt like that more than right now.  We may lose her, and you throw a fit like a child?” Danneel sat down next to him while he still had his hands behind his back.  

“I’m sorry,” he hung his head again.  

“I know,” she sighed.  She ran her hands through his hair and kissed his temple.  “It’s their job to go get her.  You’re an amazing dad, but you would go in there guns’ blazing, and that won’t work,” Danneel said evenly.  

“You ready to not run around like a lunatic?” The officer approached the couple after leaving a group conversation. Jensen looked up at him, the sun in his face.

“Yeah,” he solemnly answered.

“Get your feet under you. I’m gonna pull you off the ground.” The man in cuffs did as asked. The cold, metal restraints were taken off of Jensen’s wrists.

“Look, I’m sorry-“ Jensen started.

“I get it, Mr. Ackles. I was out of line. If I was in your shoes, I would have done the same thing.” The officer reached out to shake his hand. “Don’t rub your wrists too much.”

“Have you heard anything from your team?” Danneel spoke up.

“There was a Corolla in the driveway of the house. That’s all I know right now, ma’am.”

————

“Wake up, sleepyheads!” Susan stomped down the basement stairs. The two kidnapped victims turned to face her. YN sat up.

“Why are we here? Where is Terry?”

“Shut up, YN!” James whispered.

“Lets just day that I was a bit jealous of you and him. He liked you. Terry is with the boys for the weekend. It’s my turn with you. James is just collateral damage. Breakfast!” The older woman threw a few strips on bacon on the dirty cement floor. Without another word, she exited the room.

James scooped the food off of the floor, blew the germs away, and handed them all to YN. Knowing he was trying to sacrifice for her, she took half out of his hand and gestures for him to have the rest.

“I thought he was at the park! So how are we getting out of here?” For the first time, they could see more of the room. With it being morning, sunlight rays lit the underground space.

“I know there is a deadbolt on the basement door. And there isn’t anything to help us with that down here.” James sighed. “Umm. Oh! Come here!” He grew excited. “No, wait! I forgot about your ankle. Let me just check something.” The older teen walked over to the small window that came down from the ceiling. It was in the shape of a tiny square, so he jumped up to see through it. “We may be able to get through. I see a latch, but it’s hard to reach. I’m tall, but i ain’t that tall,” James sighed.

“Come pick me up. I can reach it if you give me a piggyback ride” She opened and closed her hands, motioning for him to pick her up off the mattress.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” James’ protective nature showed through.

“You wanna get out of here or no?” YN snapped. “He could come back and find us here! We got this, now pick me up!” She extended her arms again.

“Fine, YN. I’m going to pull you up on your strong foot, and then I’ll put you on my back. Ready?” He crosses the room toward her.

“Yep.” She made sure her strong foot was flat against the concrete. Having lost her shoes in one of the scuffles with Susan, she took her time trying to even put her weight on her bare foot. Keeping her right ankle off the ground, she accepted James’ help to stand up. He made sure she was balanced before he faced away from her to lift her onto his back. “Wait, that’s not high enough. I need to be on your shoulders.”

“It’s too dangerous!” James pressed. “Don’t try to play superhero. You’re already hurt.”

“A broken body is much better than you telling everyone I’m dead! Besides, if I died, Jensen and Danneel would kill me,” she smirked.

“Don’t talk like that,” James groaned. “Fine.” He put her down to regain his balance. Hold onto the side of the steps. I’m going to step under you and lift you up.” He crouched down between her legs and balanced her rear in the back of his neck and shoulders. “1, 2, 3,” He said as he stood up, groaning. As he did, YN’s ankle hit the side of a step.

“Argh,” she bit her hand to hide her cry. Her eyes glistened from tears rolling down her face.

“Sorry, kiddo,” James whispered. “Let’s get out of here.” He walked both of them over to the wall with the small window at the top. YN reached, but couldn’t quite touch the latch. “Let me get closer.” She used her thoughts on his shoulders to reach a longer distance. As her hand touched the latch, they heard a noise.

“What are you-“ Susan swung the door open.  Upon realizing what the teenagers were trying to do, she threw a bowl of ingredients for her lunch at them, but she fell down the stairs with a scream. The bowl  hit YN in the chest and shattered, but James stabilized her. He didn’t even notice the shards of glass embedded in his own body. YN cried out.

“James Kellam? YN LN?” Over her screams, the two teens heard a man’s voice.

With YN still on his shoulders, he replied, “Yes,” to a tall, distinguishable man in a black uniform.

“Call a bus!” The officer screamed. “I’m going to cuff her, and then you guys can go upstairs, okay?” He looked at James and YN. “I can’t move her, because she has been shot.”

YN stayed quiet. Watching this unfold, she cowered. She was lost in all of the commotion of officers and EMTs everywhere.

“Yes, sir.” James slowly put YN back on the ground. He tried to ignore the yelling and chaos around them. Their captor was being subdued but not moved because of her bullet wound. The oldest teen wrapped his arm under both of YN’s arms, along the length of her waist, noting her now-ripped shirt and lack of concentration. He saw the fright in her eyes, mouth open in shock.  “I got you. Look at me,” James’ eyes pulled hers from the scene in front of them. “I’m going to carry you out. Close your eyes. It’s scary, but don't look. I’ll keep you safe,” He soothed. “Jump on my back again.”

YN did as asked. Making sure he could see her eyelids shut, James was cleared by the officer to take YN upstairs. As they exited the house, gurneys met the two of them at the front entrance. Firefighters assisted James in laying YN’s broken body onto the moving contraption. “She got hot with the axe and her ankle is broken.”

As she was taken away, she thought she saw the silhouette of the man she hated the most.

“He-!”

“Sweetie, it’s okay. We’ll take care of you,” a sweet officer spoke to her. “No, I-“ her speech slurred. As she entered the ambulance, an emergency specialist told her that he was administering some medication. YN soon fell asleep.

“You’re coming too, son,” an EMT said calmly. In his role as defender, James forgot that he had suffered a concussion. The sunlight made him look away quickly. “I can tell you have a concussion, maybe some internal bleeding from the looks of your stomach.”

James looked down. His shirt was torn, and he could see that his midsection had swelled.

“You were knocked out and have been running on adrenaline. We need to make sure you are okay.”

With all of the instructions and flurry of activity, James was tired. He couldn’t think for himself anymore, so he followed the directions of the EMT.

“We’ll get you and your friend  taken care of, Mr. Kellam.” 

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[speckofglitter]

crush culture - crs

- requested by @animejaem -

Word count,, 2k

Genre,, fluff, not that angsty but still kinda emo i guess

You absolutely hated crush culture. Every single one of your friends had spent the majority of their teenage years hung up on a guy or a girl that they thought was ‘the one’. Ultimately none of those relationships ever lasted. You didn’t understand why people would waste their time trying to make someone else fall for them when they would have to deal with heartbreak sooner or later. Having to be in a romantic relationship with someone just felt too suffocating anyways. In short, you didn’t understand everyone’s obsession with romantic love, forcing chemistry when they knew the equation wouldn’t add up in the end. You were content with your love for your friends, family, role models and hobbies. You didn’t mind feeling lonely once in a while.

You throw on a yellow hoodie, blue jeans and converse on, grabbing your bag as you get ready for another grueling day of college classes. You were majoring in visual communication. As soon as you got to class, you looked for your friends chaeyeon and eunbin who usually saved you a seat. You spotted them in the middle of the lecture hall, sliding between seats to reach them. On your way, you accidentally bumped into someone.

‘Oh i’m so sorry’ he immediately apologized, reaching down to pick up your fallen belongings.

‘No worries.’ you smiled at him, walking off to go join chaeyeon and eunbin. You greet them, taking out your notebook. Throughout the entire lecture, you noticed someone kept giving you looks. As you turned to your right you saw the same boy you had bumped into immediately put his head down, blushing furiously. You giggled, amused at his shyness. Chaeyeon immediately poked your leg with her foot.

‘Hey, what are you laughing at?’ she smiled at you, taking a sip of her iced coffee.

‘Oh nothing, it’s just that i bumped into this guy earlier and i saw him staring at me. What a cutie.’ you laughed, looking back at him to see him eagerly taking notes. You had never seen someone look so interested in a marketing lecture before.

‘I’m pretty sure everyone would agree that raesung is cute you’re not special sis’ she retorted following your eyes as she shamelessly winked at raesung who just smiled back.

‘Wait, you know him?’ you tilted your head, confused.

‘Oh my god y/n you must live under a rock. Raesung is well known on campus. He has a youtube channel and he posts covers. He’s an amazing singer, rapper and dancer. In conclusion, you just met an icon and it seems like he likes you.’

‘We just met, i highly doubt it. Besides i’m not interested in dating anyone. I will check out his channel though’ you retorted, turning away from chaeyeon’s nosy ass to pay attention to the lecture again.

-

You were in your bed about to go to sleep when you decided to search up raesung’s channel name ‘gongjuboi’. You had no idea what that meant but as soon as you listened to his music, you realized the name didn’t matter because damnn this boy was talented. You stared out of your dorm room window, wondering if you would ever be this talented. You had decided to study visual communication against your parents’ will but you didn’t seem to be improving much since classes had started.

-

The second time you met raesung was at the campus bookstore. You were looking through the racks of books on visual communication for your next assignment when you both grabbed a book at the same time. He immediately took his hand off, apologizing.

‘I’m so sorry you can take it’ he muttered.

You recognized him immediately, ‘you know, for a youtuber you’re really shy in real life huh? It’s really fine you can have it raesung. I’ll probably illegally download a pdf or something’ you commenting. You waved at him before walking away, your platform doc martens clunking away.

Raesung’s heart was beating so fast he could probably use it as a beat for his next song. You had watched his videos.

Raesung was the complete opposite. He was a hoe for romantic love. All of his songs had been inspired by someone that he either had feelings for or at least a crush on. He was the type of person who went to sleep and dreamt of falling in love. It was now happening all over again, because of you.

-

Raesung was at the studio, dark lighting looming over him as he finished up a song. It was about you. He had been producing the track for 2 hours and writing lyrics for 1 hour. He recorded the track, immediately uploading it onto his youtube channel.

Meanwhile, you were in your room getting ready for bed. Fridays were usually the start of the time of your life. For you, that meant eating pizza in your bed as you caught up on the latest episode of grown-ish before falling asleep. You mindlessly scrolled through your subscription feed as you got a glass of water. Your finger came to a stop as you saw the raesung’s username appear on your phone. You immediately clicked on the video, curious to see what magic he had made.

The song was slow and sensual, his voice giving you chills as he sang the words. The lyrics dripped off his tongue like honey.

‘Let’s take our time tonight girl, above us all the stars are watching.’

You heart was beating fast as the song came to an end. You were completely unaware of how you had gotten into this mess. You thought you were loveproof. Maybe you had thought wrong. It wasn’t just physical attraction. You had always known raesung was attractive. He was tall, he had a charming smile and an athletic body. But now… now it almost felt like there was a gravitational pull between the two of you. You had never felt this way before. A fire was brewing inside of you and there was nothing you could do about it.

‘There's no reason to hide, what we're feelin' inside’

Those words resonated in your mind the entire night. That night, you fell asleep with someone on your mind for the first time.

-

The next morning you decided to act like last night had not happened. You got dressed, getting your camera and strolling out of your dorm, steps bouncy as you looked for a target. You had an important assignment for your advertising class and you were determined to make it amazing. You were thinking of going for a vintage style ad. You went around the city, taking photographs and videos of various things. As you walked in the art building, you came across an old television with a broken screen. It looked nothing like the perfect and ideal image that a vintage ad would want and yet you decided to take a picture of it. It reminded you of yourself.

After a few more hours of the same ritual, you decided to head home and start editing your project. You settled on a completely different vibe, using the television as a background as you edited the words ‘crush culture’ in a retro font on top of it. You were really liking how it looked but it was definitely not enough to impress your professor. You needed audio. You thought of what would fit the concept, your mind immediately wandering to raesung’s voice. You placed your head in your hands, ruffling your hair. You were frustrated that you would have to see him but it was the obvious choice. You decided to call him before you could change your mind.

He picked up after three rings.

‘Hey, who’s this?’ he asked brightly.

‘Um hi, this is y/n. I just wanted to ask you a favor if that’s ok with you…’ you trailed off.

‘Oh y/n? um yeah sure whatever you want.’ he coughed out.

‘So i have a project to do for my advertising class and i would love it if you could narrate my ad. I listened to your music and i think you have a beautiful voice’

Raesung paused for a second, shocked. He wished you could feel how fast his heart was beating right now.

‘Thank you.. And um i’d love to narrate your project. Do you have like a script or something?’ he questioned.

‘Well i have an idea but i wanna know how you feel about it. How about we meet up at 5pm at the campus café?’

‘Sure, see you there y/n.’

-

When you got to the café, raesung was already sitting down, scribbling intensely in a notebook as he sipped what you assumed was a matcha latte. When raesung wrote, he had a special kind of hunger in his eyes. His fingers moved fast, almost like he was typing. You sat down across from him, waiting for him to notice your presence. You peeked over at his notebook.

‘The girl with the heavy steps’ you cocked your head, reading aloud.

‘OH MY GOD YOU SCARED ME’ he yelled out, rushing to close his notebook.

‘I’m so sorry you just looked so focused.’ you laughed heartily.

He smiled, scratching his neck nervously.

‘So… my concept is about crush culture. I’ve never really understood the concept of dating. I feel like i’ve been surrounded by couples that had their relationships and were happy for a while but they all eventually ended. I feel like love is so temporary that i’m not sure there even is a point in dating at all. All this love just seems so suffocating. I want to express that idea in my ad.’ you explained, taking a sip of your black coffee.

Raesung listened attentively as you spilled your guts out to him.

‘Well, i had no idea you were so skeptical of love. I don’t personally agree with everything that you said but i think i know how i can make the audio for the ad. Is it okay if i take you to my studio?’

‘Of course.’ you jumped up from excitement, sliding your bag over your shoulders.

-

Raesung got straight to work as you arrived at his studio. He sat in one of those rolling chairs, scribbling a few notes in the same notebook while you got your laptop out working on the editing. A short 30 minutes later, he was finished.

‘Ok, i’m gonna sing the song i wrote for the ad, just let me know what you think’ he explained.

You nodded, sitting patiently as he got in the booth, ready to record. You fell into a trance as you watched him sing. You literally couldn’t take your eyes off of him.

‘I’m not falling for you, cause this baby is loveproof.’

You slightly shivered as he glanced at you while singing this particular line. As the song came to an end you smiled, clapping loudly.

‘That was… everything i wanted and more. Thank you so much.’ you complimented, excitedly grabbing raesung’s hands.

‘Thank you. So i’ll send you the recording and we can look at the final product.’ he replied, blushing as he realized you were still holding his hands. He looked down at your hands on top of his. You followed his gaze, promptly putting his hands down.

You watched the final product together, the both of you amazed at how good you were at your different art forms. Your vision had finally come together.

‘Thank you again raesung. I’m positive this is one of my best works and i couldn’t have done it without you. Especially since the message behind it was kind of personal…’ you mumbled nervously.

‘No problem. I love working with you. But i just wanted to say, love isn’t always temporary. I hope you find someone who can make you feel like you deserve to be loved everyday.’ he gently stated.

‘Like you?’ you whispered.

‘HUH? ME?’ he yelled out, confused at your sudden question.

‘I mean, you’re the only person who’s ever made me feel like romantic love was worth it. I’m sorry if you don’t feel the same, that would just be confirming my original hypothesis anyways.’ you sighed out.

‘No no i do feel the same. That’s why i was so surprised. I’ve liked you since i met you. Since you walked away from me with your loud ass boots. Since you laughed at me in marketing class.’ he chuckled.

You smiled up at him, squishing his cheeks before you leaned in and kissed him. Raesung was your first kiss and it was a lot better than you had expected. He held you like a prized possession, lips sweet like cherries. Kissing him felt like summer. You weren’t used to feeling like this. You’d never felt so alive.

-

heyo hope you guys like it 🎀🌹love you all 💖✨

••

masterlist - requests are open !!

- ya girl tiyi 💖

[snarkyystarky]

hockey, skating, and other bad decisions

also on ao3!

summary:

Tony is an infamous figure skater, and Steve is a retired hockey player. After getting paired up together for a reality TV show, Skating with the Stars, the two need to learn how to work together, for the sake of their reputation. Will the two look past their differences and win the competition?

Chapter 1

Tony landed an axel, gliding backwards on one leg as he spread his hands open. The harsh notes of Back in Black blasted in the rink, and Tony continued to skate on the ice, bobbing his head to the song.

The music suddenly paused, and Tony skid to a stop, confused. He turned around, and next to his set up was Pepper, a displeased look on her face.

"You know, I've been standing here for about..." She checked her watch. "fifteen minutes. And as great as practicing is, you had a meeting. Note the word had."

Tony flashed Pepper a smile as he sat down on the bleachers, mopping his face with a towel. "If it was really that important, they would've called me."

It was true. Even if these people were offering everything that Tony needed right now, Tony had a schedule. Or something. He needed to practice, just like Pepper said. Their show, it's called Skating with the Stars, or some bullshit like that. It was your regular reality TV show, with all the unnecessary drama and whatnot. These celebrities are paired up with professionals, and the 'stars' have to be taught a dance routine every week. At the end of the week, there will be four judges to see who is the best that round. At the end of the show, all the points from the previous rounds will be added up, and the final two will go to the finale. Tony liked watching these types of things, not to be a part of it. But he knew that this was his chance to be out to do actual, professional, competitions on ice again.

"Tony, being present is important. They finally assigned you a partner for you. And if you were there-"

"Hold up. They picked my partner without me being there?" Tony paused as he looked up and stared at Pepper. "You met them, right? Who are they?"

"Tony, you would have seen for yourself if you came to the meeting. I had to show up there, without you, and explain that, no, I wasn't lost, and yes, Tony Stark stood you up."

Tony slipped off his skates and put them next to him, wiggling his toes around. "Pepper, I'm sorry. I'll buy you a new pair of heels. The ones that you have currently are looking kinda tired, if you ask me. Don’t think that I saw you eyeing that black pair when we were window shopping the other day. Though you have at least three other pairs just like that. But it’s fine!" Tony clapped his hands together and laced on his shoes. "So now that's dealt with, who is it?"

Pepper ignored Tony’s apology and his attempt at bribery. "Tony, you need to start caring about this. This might be your revival! Just being on this show can help you get back up top!" She sat down next to Tony, carefully moving his skates. "I understand that you feel the need to practice, but I just need you to put a little effort, alright?"

"Alright. I'll... go to the stupid meetings. Only for you, Pep."

And considering that his whole career relied on this stupid show, but that didn't matter. Tony sighed, taking a gulp of his water.

Pepper put an arm around his shoulder. "You'll be fine, Tony. Come on," She stood up, a mischievous grin stretched across her face. "You can take me shopping, like you need to. A red pair, this time."

Tony smiled back, gripping his skates in one hand and his water bottle in the other. "A red pair, huh? Is Miss Potts finally showing her true, rebel self?"

Pepper rolled her eyes as she helped gather the rest of Tony's stuff. "One day, you'll run out of quips to say, and that day, I'll laugh in your face."

They left the ice rink and after buying Pepper her desired heels, she dropped him back at his house. Tony stepped out of the car and then turned around. "Hey, Pep. You still haven't told me about my partner."

She had an amused look on her face, both her hands gripping the steering wheel. "Oh, yeah. It's the hockey guy, you know, Steve Rogers. Okay, I'm leaving now. Remember, I rescheduled the meeting that you were supposed to go to today to tomorrow. Don't forget!"

Pepper drove off laughing as Tony stood there in shock. He called after her car, "Steve Rogers?! Pepper...!”

~

Steve Rogers was once a world wide known hockey player, nicknamed Captain America from his teammates. Tony didn't know if it was because of his patriotic ways of expression or something else on the field, but he was famous. He was the captain of the Avengers with many other players like his best friend Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson, otherwise known as the Winter Soldier and Falcon. Tony never understood the need for hockey nicknames, but whatever floats their boat.

Steve had been injured in the Olympic finals, as well as Barnes, who was banged up so badly that they had to give him a prosthetic. Steve on the other hand, was lucky. Just a mild concussion and a broken arm. After not being able to play for a few months, Rogers shocked the United States by announcing that he was going to retire from the team. He'd been off the grid for a year or so, and now he's joining this competition.

Tony closed the file that an eye patched man named Fury in front of him handed to in the beginning of their meeting. Of course, Tony had known everything before hand, because it was fucking Steve Rogers. Everybody knew who he was.

Fury seemed to be the director of the whole shebang, though you wouldn't have known it unless somebody told you. He looked like the type of guy to yell at 'hooligans' from his front porch, not direct a fucking reality show.

"Well? Does he meet your standards, Mr. Stark?" Fury gave him a stare, and Tony was sure that if he said no, Fury would flip the table that he was sitting behind.

"It's not like I have a choice," Tony mumbled as he stood up and handed the folder back to Fury. "Now, are we getting started? Where's the rink? Are we going to have separate rinks for every couple? How's this going to work?"

Fury placed the file back onto his desk as he got up and escorted Tony out of his office. "All your questions, Mr. Stark, can be taken up with Maria over here."

The door slammed behind Tony. Jesus, he acted like he had a stick in his butt. A brown haired girl greeted him, a clipboard in hand. "Mr. Stark. I'm Maria. Follow me, I'll take you to meet the other competitors."

"Does he always act like that? He's like a humanized version of an angry bear." Tony mused as he walked behind Maria, glancing at the rooms they passed by.

Maria didn't respond with anything but a curt smile, stopping in front of one of the identical rooms in this long hallway. She opened the door, inviting Tony to walk in. "Go on in. Everybody's already in there."

Tony entered the room and was surprised to find it nicely decorated, a few couches in the corner of the room and a round table on the other side. All the people in the room turned to look at him. Tony gave them all a wave of his hand, giving them all a smile. It was fake, but he hadn't smiled genuinely in a while. So what did they do to deserve a real one? "Hey, everyone."

Tony turned around to ask Maria all of his rejected questions from Fury, but saw that she was already half-way down the hallway, speaking into her little earpiece. Alrighty, then.

Tony cleared his throat as he sat down on one of the couches, taking a cookie from the coffee table situated in the middle of the room. Everybody's eyes were still on him. God, this was weird. Was it really because...? Yeah, probably.

Finally, a red-headed girl spoke up. "I'm Natasha. Nice to meet you, Tony." She stuck out a hand.

Tony shook Natasha's hand, wincing as she squeezed his palm tightly. "Thanks," Tony managed to let his hand free from her grip, shaking the pain from his hand. "You really got a... firm shake there, huh?"

"Yeah, we call it the death grip," A lanky boy grinned back at Tony. "Don't worry, it means she likes you. I think. I'm Clint Barton. Maybe you've heard of me?"

"You're... you're the archer. Didn't you win gold in the Olympics?"

"Sure did. It was a hard competition, but I crushed the other opponents," Clint's smile grew as he flexed his arms. "These bad boys hit bullseye every time."

Natasha rolled her eyes as she slapped Clint's arms away. "Ignore him."

Soon enough, there were people left and right introducing themselves, shaking Tony's hand. Tony recognized many of them from his TV screen and competitions from the past. If they knew about... what happened, they didn't mention it.

Tony swiped the cookie crumbs off of his shirt. There was someone missing. "Hey, have you guys met Steve Rogers yet?"

The curly haired boy, Bruce, piped up. "Yeah. I'm pretty sure he's at the rink across from here, where the show is going to be held."

"Oh. Okay, I'll be back soon."

A chorus of goodbyes rang out from the group, and Tony was just... didn't understand. They were all so nice to him, like they didn't care about his background or the fiasco...

After wandering around for a few minutes, Tony managed to find a large rink, bleachers surrounding the ice. It looked like a regular ice rink, besides the cameras and other set up in the back. There was somebody there, sitting down. That must be him. He opened the glass door and stepped down the stairs, the cool air meeting his skin. Tony stopped in front of whom he assumed was Steve, leaning on the glass enclosure around the ice. "Hey."

The man looked up, straightening his back, and the first thing that Tony noticed was that yes, this man was definitely Steve Rogers. The second thing that he noticed was his stance. His posture, stiff and alert, reminded Tony of a military guard, or a soldier.

"Sorry, I didn't know if I could come here yet- wait, are you...?" Steve's eyes flashed in recognition and his calm but strong demeanor shifted, his eyes boring into him.

Tony tensed, a wave of defensiveness running up his back. He didn't like the way Steve was staring at him, judging eyes shifting from his face back down to his water bottle in his hand. He had hockey skates on, and his cheeks were red. Tony assumed that Steve had been doing a few laps around the rink before this. Steve stood up and stuck out a hand.

"Steve Rogers."

Tony took his hand and shook once. "Tony Stark," He let go and turned away from Steve, looking at the glittering ice in front of them. "Decided to join the dancers, huh? Who knew."

"Didn't have time before, since I was the captain-"

"Of the hockey team who won gold, yeah, yeah, I get it," Tony eyed the blue logo in the middle of the rink, Skating with the Stars, in cursive swirly letters. "No need to boast, Rogers."

The atmosphere immediately changed, and Tony could feel Steve's glare burning into him.

"Says the cheater."

Tony whirled around, meeting Steve's hard gaze. "You keep up with the classier sports, captain?"

"The sport is classy, but the people?" Steve shrugged, a shit eating grin on his face.

"There are higher, more advanced words to describe us. Not that you would understand any." Tony shot back.

"Oh please. You only skate for yourself. To win, for fame, for money. You don't care about anything else besides that fact. You would cheat for it."

"At least when I'm skating for myself I have more wins than losses. Without any help, unlike your team." Tony's voice was rough, scraping against his throat. "Plus, I would be a better captain than you, letting one of my players lose a complete arm."

Tony could tell that he hit a nerve with that one. "We still won gold, even after that. Because we're a team, and in this world, you need allies to survive." Steve stepped forward, and Tony had to tilt his head to meet his eyes, which angered him even more. Stupid.

"Well, look where I am now."

"You're here on a reality TV show just so you can put your name back out there after a year or so of hiding away from the press. You hope to win the show, so people can see that you have so called 'talent' underneath all of the lies." They were inches from each other now.

Tony was fuming. "Oh yeah? What are you doing here, Mr. Perfect? Admit it. You just want to be in the spotlight again, and this is the perfect opportunity. Does retirement bore you, old man?"

"Come on. Put on your skates and we can race a few rounds. With those skinny legs, you won't stand a chance."

"It seems like you two met." They both whipped their heads toward the source of the voice. Fury was by the doorway, his arms crossed.

Tony stepped backward, grumbling under his breath. He didn't want to work with this fucking asshole.

Steve seemed to have the same idea. "Fury, maybe we could switch out partners or something? I don't think that we're exactly suited to work together."

"No switching. You keep the same partner that you have."

"Fury, he's a hockey player! He won't be able to keep up in a routine, let alone an event!"

"What does that mean?" Steve cut in, his voice sharp.

"In baby talk, it means that you're an amateur, Rogers. Or do you not know what that means either? It means-"

"I'm not an amateur!"

"I bet you've never even worn figure skates, have you?"

"I have! Once!"

"Once?" Tony snorted. "Definitely an amateur."

"You're the one who desperately needs a partner, so it wouldn't exactly be a good idea to throw me out just yet."

"Desperately? I-"

"And, I'm not a cheater. Maybe you'll actually have a chance to win this time."

"I think I will take you up on that race, Rogers," Tony glanced down at Steve's beat up hockey skates. "If you're able to keep up with me on figure skates, I'll back off."

Steve sat down and started to unlace his shoes with fast and nimble fingers. "You're on.”

[soaringlanddormitory]

Title: Shots

Summary: After making a deal to protect someone, a specific Yakuza gang head had to follow some orders. It was a mystery to him on why the order was given to him, but he had to accept it. He had some shots to try and be close to the group, and he wondered if it would work.

Word Count: 3731

Notes:

I finally got to write this up because I have no classes today and I’m really happy that I got to write this!! Also god, all the Yakuza AU stories are connected to each other because kjfdbg this one takes place after The Beginning!  It also has an exposition because... It seems better that way [it’s also pretty long i apologize gjkdfbg]

Emile/Canción belongs to @polar-star-dorks!!

Hanako/Lotus belongs to @polar-stars!!

It was pretty odd that he was told by the Isshiki clan head to be nice to a gang he was meeting. He wasn’t the type to completely despise someone on first sight and annoy them to bits after, so he never really understood the reasoning of the male. But... he can’t really deny that request since that was the only request he gave. That damn clan head didn’t even tell him to protect him with his life! 

He would be able to tolerate a presence of almost anyone- unless it was the fucker named Eizan Etsuya or the person he was completely jealous of who was Tsukasa Eishi.

 Eizan was nothing but a greedy shit who cared about money, he probably did not think of any morals- as long as he gets what he wants, he’d do it. He doesn’t fucking care about the consequences! 

Then Tsukasa... that damn bitch always got what he want because he was rich- he didn’t deserve to get all the attention, he isn’t risking his own damn life for anyone! He’s just being protected! Nothing is special about that him!

So why should he be so kind to a random gang that he never heard about, if he literally never hated anyone besides those two people?

“But you have to know, this is only the beginning.”

This woman... If only she knew that he’d been through so much already. He was determined to be a part of the Yakuza gang ever since he was born. He was trained by his own family members, he had shot people dead, he had some men following him around at his command and he even had to train with the worst person in the world and Stupid Red Hair Clips for several months... What did she mean that it was only the beginning?

He didn’t respond verbally, but he gripped the gun that was given to him some moments ago, a grin popping on his face. She probably didn’t know who she was talking to. She seemed to notice this little reaction, because with one look- her face already darkened before she looked away from him. 

“This is Gaia.” Aroon gestured at a woman with black hair and red eyes. “She’s our assassin. She notices even the smallest of details. So don’t do anything suspicious.”

He remembered that the gang leader said these lines specifically about her. Gripping a gun and grinning out of nowhere seemed suspicious to her, huh? Then she probably would try and slice him up if he lifted a gun and pointed it at her head. He would have done that for fun if Isshiki didn’t tell him to be friendly. She already proved her worth and she probably started the Greedy Shit with bringing down the targets so easily, so she was already at his good side. He only wanted to test her out.

“We’ve heard from Canción and Lotus... that it isn’t only 10 gangs aiming for the current clan heads present.” She finally spoke up. “In fact, it’s 20... and increasing. Some gangs are large, some are small... There are even lone hitmen who want them dead for the price of money.”

“Didn’t the first deaths of the Kinokuni family only start two weeks ago?” The woman with glasses suddenly brought up, her eyes narrowing. “How did it get so many in such a short amount of time?”

“Miss Cranky Face.” Kuga chuckled. “Damn, you’re a woman with glasses. I thought you were smarter than that!” A glare was shot at Kuga from the female he called and he only ended up laughing. “Are you serious about that question? Then let me answer it for you-”

“She does’t fucking need your answer. I’ll answer it instead.” The man who was beside the next Kinokuni Clan head was surely annoyed with Kuga, and he felt likewise. They never enjoyed each other’s presence. “The higher the bounty, the more people aim for the target. It’s as simple as that. It must mean that whoever is giving the deal, they must be offering a lot.”

Nene absorbed that information, but she started to get confused on why there was someone who wanted her clan dead. What would they get if the whole clan died? They’d get nothing but dead corpses, nothing else. Is murder something to be proud of inside the Yakuza life?

“People from the Yakuza life is irrational.” Those were the words she came up with. “They won’t get anything for murdering my whole family. It makes me wonder what they want from us.”

“Misses Eizan.”

“Do not call me that. I am not married with him yet.”

“... Miss Kinokuni.”

“What is it, Gaia?”

“I wouldn’t be able to answer why they want your family dead. All I know is that there are gang who find murder as their “trophies”.” She explained, a dangerous aura emitting from her body. “They want to kill someone, display it in the news... and threaten the whole world that this could happen to them... It gives them some bonus points since they can brag about who they killed.” Her voice shrunk, getting even softer. “Especially if they’re rich.”

The whole room got quiet, and no one was able to speak. The people inside the life already knew how cruel the life of the Yakuza can be, but the other two who never knew about this didn’t know how to capture everything.

But there was something about her... She seemed to take it to a whole personal level. Kuga was able to read this from her, from her movement to expressions.  He may have specialized more in distraction and surprises, but he was good in reading people sometimes.

Suddenly, a brunet hopped to her before ruffling the hair of the girl. “Are you okay? Should I explain it instead? I’m used to talking to people, I can tell them everything else instead, if you want me to!” The brunet had a tiny smile which was stored with worry and concern. “I don’t really mind!”

“It’s fine, Canción. Thank you.” She did appreciate the offer, but since she was told to do this- she wanted to do her own task. She quickly gripped the hand of Canción, and gave it a firm grip so she could reassure him. 

“If you say so, mi amiga! Just tell me if you need any help!” With that, the male went back to his position, but he turned to Isshiki once his name was called.

“Did something happen to her?” This was the question that got the attention of the negotiator.

“I can’t tell you. Personal lives should be kept... but maybe she will say it herself someday!” Canción smiled at the male who asked. “I’m happy that you’re worried about mi amiga, it shows you do care! I’m glad to be allies with you!”

Kuga was right. she reacted like that because something personal did happen. He’d rather not force the information out of her though. 

After a few explanations of what was going on, some possible hiding places and the alike, she closed her mouth before walking off from her position. “Lotus, it’s your turn.”

Lotus gave a quick nod and she began doing her part. “I’m assigned to tell everyone about the plans I have made.” She began explaining, and she gave the newcomers an ear piece. “Also from what I’ve heard, the bounty placed on each of the Clan heads are...”

“A million of euro.”

“... What the fuck?! Okay yeah, I met several people with such high bounties but holy mother of god- A million?! EURO?! Who the hell will give this much money for someone’s corpse?!”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this...” Eizan hesitated before he continued. “But I have to agree with... the midget.”

“You don’t need to call me that now, Greedy Shit!”

Lotus coughed to attempt and make them stop. “Both of you, for a small moment- please be quiet.”

The two looked at her, but they had to respect her words because she gave the effort of speaking to them about this. 

“Lotus, you really are brilliant.”

“Thank you, Kinokuni Nene.” Lotus gave a nod to her, before she became serious again. “Anyway, these are the plans...”

After her explanations, the four of them felt safer because everything she said seemed that it could save their lives, or be useful to them in the future. “So that’s all. Thank you for listening.”

Someone from the group clapped. “That’s our flower, pretty and intelligent.” It was no other than Aroon. “This is why we need such a great planner like you.”

Hanako smiled slightly, appreciating his comment. “Thank you, leader.”

Aroon winked at her before moving from member-to-member to thank them for their efforts and ruffling their hair... it was a weird sight to see him tip toe to try and reach for the large man’s head, but the image could be easily forgotten.

“But for now, that’s all. We’re all going to talk about this more later. It’s late. We met at 8, we finished talking at 9:30, we had to escape some minutes later and now it’s 11. Your minds won’t be able to process everything at this time- so we can train tomorrow morning, with your new guns, of course!” Aroon crossed his arms, a spark of amusement in his eyes. “It will be hella fun to train with you guys. So let’s all save that for tomorrow. For now, you all may rest.”

“And where the hell will this woman rest?”

“Ohoho, Eizan is more worried about the girl? Fuck yeah, I am becoming a godfather!”

“Shut the fuck up, Aroon. I’m being serious. I have to ensure she’s in a safe area or else her death will be the end of the deal.”

“Geez, just admit that her charms caught you in the first week...” He rolled his eyes before shrugging. “Room 6. She’d be there. The password is 4962. Be sure to click enter 2 times, place in the number and close-open the cover thrice before pressing enter again. It’s going to open after that. It’s safe, don’t worry. There’s even a security camera, and also a trap in case there’s someone unidentified that enters.”

“Thank you.”

“Welcome, but you’re sleeping with her.”

“Excuse me?”

“Room 7 is for Isshiki and Kuga. Room 8-10 have several... stuff in it. Some people slept over a couple of weeks ago and we haven’t fixed it yet. So you’re all paired up for now.” 

“Is this one of your plans?”

“No, but remember it’s not time to have kids, Eizan.”

Bang!

A bullet was shot, but he quickly avoided it. Luckily, it was hit by a target.

“I fucking hate you.” 

“Haha. I was kidding about the kids part. But seriously, you don’t need to be this conscious. The room has 2 separated beds each, and even a shower room. So you don’t need to think about sleeping beside each other.”

After a few bickering, Nene went to her room with a pissed off Eizan, and Kuga and Isshiki ended up going to their room as well.

After settling a few things, Kuga opened the door so he could go elsewhere. “Kuga, where are you going?” Isshiki asked, a bit curious. He knew resting was optional, but he did think it was best to rest, so they could train early tomorrow.

“Nowhere, Mister All smiles.” The blonde grinned. “I’m just going to train in advanced. I want to be ahead of that loser.”

Kuga thought it was best to train a bit earlier, and he didn’t feel like resting. He wasn’t contented with what he did on that day, so he wanted to do more. He opened the door of the training room and he only saw a shine of red eyes and the sound of gunshots. 

“No. Gaia means you can train each other here.” Sukiru corrected. “You’ll find her mostly here, so don’t be surprised if you spot two red orbs floating when you come in the room. She sometimes trains in the dark.” He warned and the girl only went in the room. “Respect her and her territory.” 

He was lucky that he recognized these lines, and he only places his hands in his pockets. “Hey there, Gaia!” He waved at her, but there was no response, and she only continued shooting. How could he be so nice to a person who acted like he didn’t exist? “Pst... are you listening to me?”

He took a couple steps closer and he noticed that she turned her head. “... I am.” She quickly replies, and with one shot- the lights were open. “I heard you completely.” He spotted that even if it was dark and the targets were moving, she was still able to hit the target.

“Damn, you really deserve your title.” He grinned a bit and she only kept her gun away, still carefully eyeing me. “Wow, being so careful despite being an ally! You don’t need to worry about me. If there’s one person you should be wary off, it should be that man with glasses. He’s an asshole.”

“I know that, I’m well informed. But because I should be more concerned for him... it doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be cautious around you, Kuga Terunori.” She replies, but she didn’t mean to offend him. “I’m not trying to say that I hate you, but I do think I should still be... careful.”

“Understandable. I get your point.” He did try to accept the situation they’re in. It’s not a surprise that she didn’t trust him. “But all I wanted to do was train. And since it’s your domain and you’re present... should I ask you first?”

The girl did not expect what he asked, but she shook her head. “I... You don’t need to ask me first. You can go here whenever you want, all you have to know is that you shouldn’t try and steal anything here.” She stepped away from him before going back to her previous location. “That’s it. You can train whenever you want, I don’t particularly care.”

Kuga did realize now that she might be the hardest person to bond with in the group. He was rather close to Aroon,  Canción seemed nice, Lotus seemed pretty chill, Sukiru was described as the dad friend but... Gaia, she didn’t seem like she wanted to bond with anyone at all. Yet he was told he should try and attempt to get closer to her.

“Noted!” He flashed a grin, trying to hide his thoughts. “But should I ask you permission if I want to train with you specifically?” Maybe he’d be able to at least be closer to her through training.

Gaia spun around to face him again, her expression looking astonished with what he just asked, and she started blinking a couple of times. “Train... with me? That’s...” She quickly gripped her other hand. “... I guess you should ask that. But why would you? Aroon is the best with guns in our group, so I don’t see a reason why you’d want to train with me for this.”

In his head, he pointed out the fact that she did look rather flattered yet surprised when he asked this question. He couldn’t completely read her just yet, but he did like the tiny details he got to realize. “I couldn’t find him.” He lied, he saw Aroon talking with Lotus as they went upstairs just a couple of minutes ago. “And plus what you did with your knives to prove something to that Greedy Shit... It was rather amazing, I’d totally love to learn from you! I want to catch that fuck off guard!” But this was the truth.

Gaia quickly backed away slightly, her hands clasping together and her entire body shaking. Oh god, did he do something wrong? Did he say something wrong? “Fuck! I mean if you don’t want to teach me, then it’s really fine! Ah shit-” Did he actually fail the request of Isshiki already. 

“... No. I’m happy someone appreciates my skills outside of my gang. I’ve trained hard to get this far.” She was still trembling, but her heart was now clutching her own chest. “I tremble when I get too happy sometimes. Especially when I try to hold it back.” 

“You don’t really need to hide your happiness, y’know?” At least she told him this- he wasn’t as worried anymore. “Nor do you need to hold back a smile. It’s completely normal for people to show all the feelings they’ve got.”

“I only smile at my fellow gang members...” She looked for words to say. “Because if people see me smile, I’m afraid they might recognize me.” Her voice became very quiet, and he had to move in closer to hear. “And I don’t want them to recognize me.”

There was something up about this girl. He already knew this the moment she talked about how the Yakuza is with their “trophies”- but now she’s trying to hide something? “Trust me, even if I saw you before- I’d probably not realize it’s you with a single smile. I don’t recognize anything about you.”

“You sure you won’t?”

“Of course I won’t! and if I do, I’d do nothing about it... I mean if you still feel like you don’t trust the rest, I’m going to tell you this- you can smile around me whenever. If you don’t smile, you might end up like Greedy Shit and the woman he’s with... Cranky fucks.” A smile appeared on the face of the girl he talked to, and suddenly his face lit up. “Yeah! That’s a whole lot better!”

“Let’s get that topic away for a moment... I’m supposed to train with you, right?” The smile vanished from her face in an instant the moment she spoke about training. “Then come here, bring out your gun. I’ll train you a bit.” She turned out to be in her serious mode again, but he didn’t mind it at all. At least he knew that he was already on her good side. “So, normal training or do you want a one vs one training? You against me?”

He didn’t think this through. At first he only wanted to test out his new gun and train, but since she was there- his whole motive may have changed. He also wanted to see her skills and go against it, but at the same time... He didn’t really know what he could possibly do. “What way would you want it, Gaia?” He asks, a smirk on his lips- it wasn’t a threat to her, nor was it to piss her off- he only find her pretty amusing. “Because I’m down with any method, as long as no one ends up dead.”

Gaia blinked before she brought out her gun again, reloading it with bullets. “One VS One then... but...” She threw him a case which was filled with wax bullets. “Of course, don’t aim for any dangerous areas. Maybe an arm and leg can do...”

“Wax bullets. Not that lethal until we’re up close, huh?” Was she being serious about this? “Even if it’s not as dangerous compared to metal bullets- are you willing to risk an injury or two? Because man, I won’t be holding back in this training!”

“Neither will I.” She displayed a rather taunting smirk. “Bring it with all you’ve got, Kuga Terunori. It’s bold of you to assume that an assassin like me will allow myself to get hit.” She heard him reload his gun, and she immediately knew that he was already accepting the challenge.

“Alright. Let’s do this, and what are the mechanics?” He did want to see how skillful the gang of Kaoru was, and this will be the first time he would train with one of them... He couldn’t lose the opportunity. 

“It’s as simple as this. Each of us has only 10 bullets each. You can shoot 10 times, but once you lost all the bullets- you lose. If both of us lose it at the same time, it’s a tie. To win, you have to shoot your opponent- it’s something like one shot, you’re dead.” She explained and she pointed the gun at him. “You’re not supposed to hit any fatal parts is one of the rules, so if you do hit one... You also lose. The point of the game is tactics and accuracy.”

“It’s quite interesting you call this kind of training a game. Seems like you’ve never lost this before.” He laughed before he also pointed the gun at her. “Have you?”

“Maybe only to Aroon.” She replied before she began stepping a bit further. “He’s the best in guns, after all.” She placed her gun away for a moment, to make sure that he was ready. “Are you ready?”

“Hell yeah I am! Right after this training, I’d probably be able to shoot that fucker dead.” He was fired up, he did believe that he might be able to match her, and if he did- he’d be proud of himself. If he would win, he’d be proud. If he lost, then he’d try again to improve. It was a win-win no matter what.

“Alright if so, give it your all and don’t waste your shots.”

What he knew was that a couple of shots of a gun would be able to bring someone down. But he didn’t know he only needed a single shot to be in good terms with her.

“I promise you, I’ll do my best and I won’t waste it.”

[all-i-need-is-food-and-fanfics]

What do you want? (1)

words: 2200(ish)

triggers/warning: mention of death, graphic violence, blood(nothing too graphic or explicit yet), curses(because it’s Bakugo).

summary:

Katsuki works alone, he hasn’t need anyone’s help before, why would he need it now?

Well it wasn’t really an option anymore.

Or a Buddy Cop AU

a/n: Okay so this is completely based and inspire by @soyunpochoclin hcs, because i’m weak and it was a great idea. I hope I made it justice. I did it while I was traveling on my notes for the most part, which is why it’s kinda short...i’ll make the rest of them longer(i’ll try).

Anyway sorry if there are any mistakes, I tried correcting any but English is not my first language, and thanks for reading :D.

2nd part-->

***

"I don't fucking need a partner.'" Katsuki sneered, his face deepening into disgust, "Never have before, and don’t need it now." He turned around, walking into the door, hands deep in his pockets.

"I wasn't asking Bakugo," Aizawa declared just before Katsuki could kick the door open, "I was only telling you." In one leg Katsuki turned his right hand out and already twitching. "It's not a suggestion, it's an order."

"Huh?" He lets his right hand fall into the dark wood of the desk, disturbing the empty cups of coffee and pencils around it, "An order?" His voice loud and rough, demanding.

Aizawa sighed, he tried to smooth the frown in between his own eyebrow, but it seemed to be engraved with the rest of the few wrinkles in his face. When he looked back at Bakugo, he pushed back the two pieces of his hair falling on his face.

"Bakugo, you are good at your job-"

"The hell I am!" Katsuki jumped quickly, "Which is why I don't need a damn partner!" He stood back straight, or as straight as he usually would, lifting his hand to the ceiling finally letting a few sparks from it.

"But if you can't follow an order I'm afraid I'll have to let you g-" Bakugo open his mouth to complain even before he finished until a knock cut them both.

It took less than second after Aizawa lets them in for, what Katsuki could only describe as fucking blinding, person to pull his head from behind the door. His red bright hair was slick back with a blue and white bandana to match with his uniform eyes lined and twinkling, big and bright, surprisingly sharp, smile. Too fucking bright.

“Good afternoon!” He bowed to both of them, “I'm looking for Bakugo Katsuki?" He asked, once back standing, scratching the back of his head with the hand free of a folder.

Katsuki sneered and put his hand back in his pocket to stare back at Aizawa. "Is this really what I'm being paired with?" He clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes, “Tsk.”

"Bakugo." Aizawa spat a warning, "Play nice."

Immediately the guy turned to Katsuki, not even reacting or minding Katsuki’s comment. “My name is Kirishima Ejirou, nice to meet you.” Bakugo only looked down to him and sneered.

“I work alone, I don’t need a partner.” Bakugo insisted one last time, talking one step to the desk, leaving Kirishima behind and without an answer.

This time Kirishima did notice, did mind; he frowned at Bakugo. It was clear to Ejirou that this guy didn’t care at all. By the untamed nature of his hair, the lack of order on his uniform, his shoulders down and relax and general slouch way of standing in a way that probably would gain Ejirou a hit in the back of his neck from his mother, it was easy to tell. Why was he assigned a case this important to someone like him?

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kirishima-san.” Aizawa finally stood, bowing just slightly to Kirishima, “Inspector Aizawa Shouta.”

“A pleasure, sir.” Kirishima caught up next Bakugo.

“Now,” Aizawa turned back to Bakugo, “It isn’t a request Bakugo, you’ll have to work together or you are fired,” Bakugo looked away, clenching his teeth, “Understood?”

“Aja aja” He agreed finally turning away, tucking his hands back to his pockets.

Aizawa sigh, sitting back down, “He is a good cup, you just have to be patient, he is just…just hard to work with”

“Yeah…I can see that…” Kirishima stared as Bakugo walked away. It took him a few seconds to react and finally go after Bakugo.

As the door close behind him, Aizawa could only pray nothing went too wrong. It had been too long since Bakugo last had a partner. Not since…not that it was that different back then, from today. He had never interested on working with other people, or interested in other people for that matter. The difference now is that his loneliness isn’t only based on the indifference on people but something else rooted on him, that’s what Aizawa feared.

***

Bakugo didn’t stop until he was on his desk, even though he could hear the guy calling him behind. Instead, he sat down and turned to organize the papers on the desk until Kirishima finally caught up. He looked down to Bakugo’s annoyed face. As he laid the papers down, Ejirou noticed how neat the rest of the desk was.

He shook his head, focusing back on what he had to say. “Are you familiar with the case?”

“What the fuck makes you think that?” Ejirou took a deep breath in.

“Well, please do, there’s a lead I need us to check out tonight but you need to be familiar with the case,” Kirishima rested his body on Katsuki’s desks, his hips falling just next to Katsuki’s face, “It shouldn’t be so hard, there’s no a lot to go on.”

Katsuki stood up, avoiding Ejirou’s face, a turning to the exit. “Then you’ll have to give me a summary.” He sneers walking down the door.

Ejirou doesn’t like this dynamic of chasing him whenever he exits a room.

***

When the case was first given to Ejirou, he was shock rather than anything else, even though he was warned before entering the storage unit. There were nothing but bodies in every state, from cut and deform to completely untouched but a number of holes from a syringe, but what worried Ejirou more were the dry patches of blood with no source or the ones with only ashes on top. Even more, though, there was nothing aside from the bodies. No trace left to follow after, no trace of who was there before and what was going there.

The storage unit had been abandon by a close factory a couple years ago, which only meant that the activity was recent, also confirmed by the states of the bodies found on the factory. Although that didn’t really give any trace or the perpetuators.

“Tsk, so there are basically no leads then?” Katsuki pushed the door, with a ring following them.

“Well…” Ejirou is almost ashamed to say so, not with Bakugo looking at him as if it was his fault, “There’s an eye witness of a girl walking outside the storage unit, and well I thought on searching on the cameras from stores around here, maybe…”

Bakugo clicked his tongue and walked directly to the casher, “Oi!” He hit the table, calling for their attention. The person on the cashier jumped to the sound, and then again when they saw Bakugo.  Bakugo let his hand sparkle on the table, smiling(almost too much in Ejirou’s opinion) asking for the footage. He presents himself probably not necessary, the person looks so scare they just might have give it to him without Bakugo identifying himself.

The person walked to a corner, behind the large counter at the end of the store, to a small computer; relieve of leaving Bakugo on the other side.

“So have you seen anything strange or out of place around here?” Kirishima finally talked, turning around, leaning into the counter.

“The other day, there were a lot of cups around the old fabric, but I’m guessing that’s why you are here…” They laughed, just slightly, nervous.

Ejirou hummed in affirmation, looking around. The store was small, with only one costumer at the moment. Only four shelves, two each side leaving the entrance directly in front of the cashier, the fridge on the left wall for vegetables or frozen foods, and empty on the other side.

“How about a…” Ejirou opens his notepad, and tried to read his own scribbles, “…a blond, a small girl, school uniform?”

“Oh yeah!” They answer immediately, pulling the memory up fast, “She usually comes once a week, buys food for at least…7 people maybe…” They hesitated, once Kirishima asked for more information, “She’s kind of hard to forget…she has wide smile as if it belonged permanently in her face…” They stopped using the computer to use their hand to mimic a big smile with their hands, as if pulling the ends of their thin lips, “…but not like happy, it’s like she’s mocking you…”

Kirishima turned to the door as soon as it rang. It’s more than a second after when he calls her, “Miss, excuse me!” And half of second before she stars running. Less than that Kirishima it’s already behind her, “Bakugo, it’s her!” He announced only when he was pushing the door.

“Shitty hair, what the fuck?!” He heard Bakugo running behind him.

Ejirou locked his eyes on the girl running only a couple people in front of them. Quickly she was three people up front, then four. Bakugo had caught up to him, firing explosions to the sky, possibly to keep away people out of their way, which honestly Ejirou thanked. It was clear why she had chosen this hour if she planned to run away. Even with Bakugo yelling, it’s still hard running with those just standing.

They only caught up go her when she reached a street with cars running too fast for her to cross. This leaves her trapped in a circle of shocked people.

Kirishima turned to Bakugo for a second, his eyes locked on the girl, determined. Hands tense and ready to blow her up. The girl also notices and laughs. Like she’s mocking, Ejirou remembers.

“Stop!” Kirishima ordered, but she only laughed covering her mouth. Her yellow eyes resembled those of a cat in the street, unaligned and wild. Small hands and long nails reached for something in her back. “We just want to talk!”

He heard Bakugo sneer, “As if.”

The girl throws a syringe in Bakugos direction, he is quick to avoid it, let it fall to the ground and lift his hand, tense and itching. “Bakugo, no!” He turns to the warning and Kirishima signals the people.

“Huh? You don’t want to play?” Her voice was high pitched, sickeningly sweet, as she threw another 2 syringes to Bakugo.

He jumped with a small explosion to the floor, before they hit him. He hit the wall of the building next to him. “What are you doing?” Katsuki turned to the people next to him, “Run!” The line of people against the building started running away, some using their quirks, others as fast their legs let them to do so. Bakugo run to start of it, to change directions of any syringe that were to hit any civilian.

“You go for her! I’ll take it.” He hears the guy’s voice next to him. When he turned, Bakugo found the soft curves of his face had been replaced with sharp edges. He doesn’t have to tell Bakugo twice, by then he was already flying with his hands stretched behind his back.

Katsuki smiled, finally a way free way.  He impulsed himself forward, avoiding the syringes that managed to make his way to him. Just as he was about to reach her the cars stop. She started running again. She turned into an alleyway. Even if the power distributes when he uses both of his hands, it’s enough to impulse him in a few seconds to the other side of the street, with a explosion from his right he turns, straight to the entrance. He stops. The victorious smile falls. He turned and there was no one that even resembles the girl running just moments before.

It took Ejirou a minute to catch up to Bakugo. He finds Bakugo standing of a bleeding man, on the floor. Noticeably angry. He sprints to kneel next to the man. Still breathing.

He sighs. “Bakugo, he nee-”

“On their way shitty hair.” He answered in between his teeth, still looking around.

“How did she manage to get away?” It wasn’t meant to be answered but he swore he could hear Bakugos clenching his teeth even harder at the question.

“I don’t know.” He mutters as if the words were forced of his throat.

Kirishima looked back to the man in silence.

So…

***

“…we are back to cero!” Bakugo yelled, clenching all the notes of the case in his hand, standing up from his desk.

“We know the syringes are the ones that cause the holes in several of the bodies, she is related to the case.” Kirishima reminded from the borrowed chair they had moved next to Bakugo’s desk.

Bakugo turned, clenching the papers even more. Red eyes fired up. “That would’ve been useful if we would've caught her idiot!”

“Hey, dude, calm down we just need to-” His eyes fall down to his notepad. The notes. “You don’t buy groceries from a neighborhood you just moved.” He takes the notebook.

“What the fuck are you mumbling hairs for brai-?”

“The cashier said she usually bought groceries there, and she came back today.” Bakugo stared confused as Kirishima stood up, “You are not going to buy groceries from a neighborhood you don’t live in, besides she was walking there, not driving...That means…”

“They haven’t left the area.” Bakugo finished with him, “That’s fucking genius Kirishima!”

[medleyofswag]

You know those videos of [ first kisses - social experiment ] between strangers on YouTube? There are a million of’em so this link is just a random one.

Well I really like’em and I imagiened Sam and Rafe in one while I made this edit. So. Naturally. I drabbled it- hope ye dig! 

Safe as Strangers. 

A sweet woman pointed him toward a spot in front of lights and cameras. There were soothing tunes in the background, which accompanied the two shots of rum nicely, to calm his nerves. If you’d ask him this very moment why he’d sign up for this experiment, he couldn’t say. Some extra merit, some experience, something different? Who knew.

If you ask him why now, about five seconds later, he wouldn’t know what to say becuase he simply didn’t care. A tall man, ruggedly handsome, brown-haired, frankly gorgeous stranger walked up to stand with him in front of the cameras where they were to be recorded. Or already were being recorded that very moment. Who knew, who cared, look at this man.

A minute of staring seemed appropriate enough, and he stuck a hand out for the stranger to take. Who eagerly took it. Cool. “Hi, I’m Raphael. Or, Rafe.” The smile wouldn’t stop pushing up, so who was he to try and push it down. “Hey. Hi Rafe, I’m Samuel. Or Sam.” The handsome stranger mirrored, displaying pearly whites.

“Hi Sam” Rafe let his smile loose, then.

Another second passed. His hand was so warm. Comfortable.

“You’re very tall.” The smaller man observed intelligently, chuckling with nervous waves in the sound, he started letting go of the other’s hand reluctantly. Sam all but wheezed with similar nervous levels. “Thank you, yes, I’ve grown all by myself.” Both grinned and shuffled slightly, seemingly unable to stand the hell still. Rafe knew exactly what he was doing there. He was there to be recorded while kissing a stranger and see what happaned. He knew, yet it struck him just then that this handsome length of hunk was who he had been assigned to kiss. He watched Sam looking at him, seeming equally aware. And equally pleased. Cool. Cool.

“So…” Rafe smiled still, while pushing his hands in his own back-pockets, tilting his head to the side. “Ever kissed a guy before?” He swayed a little back and forth forming his lips into a line. Sam chuckled shyly before pulling a hand up to scratch his neck. “Ah, well uhm, yeah. I dated a guy. Long time ago.” He shrugged at the information. He didn’t think that telling this, earily beautiful stranger that he usually only had flings and one-night stands and that his relationship-count could amount to about, three serious ones.

“It was actually the first guy I came out to as bisexual, and uh..” He clicked his tounge, glancing from his shoes to Rafe. “Yeah, we were pretty young. It was good, but he moved away.” He felt like every word came out flimsy and like this story had no relevant red string what so ever. Might be the very mezmering, distracting eyes, gazing at him curiously. “I get that.” The shorter man suddenly acknowledged, nodding.

“I came out to my best friend, as gay” He gestured toward himself as if self-explanaroty. “who replied with ‘me too’, though she’s a girl, so nothing more exciting happaned with that info.” He huffed a laugh. The tall man chuckled deeply, giving a few nods of his own. This guys was so easy to talk to. Huh.

“Uh, so, uh,” Sam fumbled a little. He turned to some of the crew, just a couple that payed attention to them, while the rest went around and about doing stuff to make the situation feel more natural. “How uh,” Sam held a thumb toward Rafe to gesture between them. “How much are we allowed to talk? I mean, do we ruin it if we talk to much?” One of the people behind the camera simply shaked their head and waved toward them, telling them to have at it, let it feel natural.

“So, it’s your first time in a.. stranger’s experiment too, I’m assuming?” Rafe continued, pulling up his hands, clapping them a little. “Uh yeah, yeah I- I mean I’ve met a lot of people, strangers, through work, which involves documeting a lot, but uhm,” He threw a look towards the machines filming them. “This is very different.” He huffed in laughs again. “Yea, I know what you mean. I meet strangers for a living but..” He dropped his hands to his thighs, smacking lightly.

Sam suddenly watched him with wider eyes, something looking like shock. Then it hit Rafe, who threw a hand up to his mouth to cover it in realization. “Oh god.” He muffled through the fingers. Sam started showing teeth again in an slowly-growing amused manner. Both of them felt blood rushing, faces easily heating and giggles hard to surpress when minds flew head-first towards innuendos in the company of a stranger.

“I’m in antique-sales business,” Rafe voice pitched, sounding defeated. “I mean I meet a lot of strangers and I have to find a bond with them in order to- I, oh my god” He flailed with both hands while speaking, though giggling the whole time, hands eventually stopped to rest and cover his whole face.

Samuel looked down at the smaller man shaking in snickers, adapting the happy shaking to his own shoulders too, his arms hanging at his sides until they moved up to cross his ribs. “I mean, I suspected but I don’t actually judge, so” His grin left his jaw ajar after speaking. Rafe dared to look up, and let go of his face. He sniffed and wiped under an eye. “Well that’s great, becuase I’m making a great impression here.” Even if he had been working in any type of escorting business, that would be a weak way to introduce it. The taller looked at him still grinning. Expression full of fondness. Rafe let his hands stay under his chin, fingers twirled together, looking up at Sam. 

He cleared his throat, licked his lips.

“So uh, what do you do?” He let his hands fall down, fingers still twirled. “Well, Hey- ironic,” Sam gave him a look and his mouth made small smack after swallowing. “I’m somewhat of an archaeologist, not fully-licensed yet, but finding antique stuff isn’t unusual for me.”

Rafe let a looped grin fall into place. Meeting someone his won age who understood anything at all about his own work was extremely rare. “Wow.” He managed. “Yeah, I… I’ve been doing it, pretty much my, uh, whole life. It kinda runs in the family.” Sam managed to continue, a little lost of words from looking back at Rafe like that. Rafe tore his eyes away eventually and threw a look to the crew again, then tried whispering. “..you think they did this on purpose?” He gave the taller a suggestive look, pointing inbetween them. “Well to be fair, I really wouldn’t mind if they did, either way.” Sam raised a brow in a suggestive look of his own. It made the shorter snort lightly. “Me neither.”

They shuffled and fidgeted a little more. A little lulled from the high of letting a stranger know they were allowed to kiss you. A stranger who made you feel safe, for some reason.

“Uh, am I allowed to ask how old you are?” Rafe suddenly looked puzzled. “Not that it matters, but uhm, curiousity.” “I think so,” Sam threw a look to the people around but noone payed any real attention to them right now. “I’ll be a rebel and tell you anyway,” Sam winked, which made Rafe’s face tint a little. “I actually turned 30 last month.” Sam let his under-lip push a little pout, unintressted in his own age. All he recieved at first was a blank face at that. It took Rafe a moment. “I don’t know wether to congratulate you or call you a liar, 30, really?!” Rafe looked next to bewilired. “You look like 26, atleast.” He shook his head in disbelief. Sam threw him a side-look. “Is it a compliment if I say you look about 26, too?” Sam leaned back a little and made a braced face, cranking a wink. The other man just snorted again. “Yeah, why not. I’m almost 25, so looking older than I am is still kind of a sexy thing. Or irrelevant, you know, whichever.” He shook his head again, not actually minding who thought he looked like what.

“Almost 25 huh, I’d say 'that’s a great age’ but that makes me sound like 60, so..” The taller ended with a 'pffft’ sound.

The shorter man made a face at him, smile reaching his eyes. “That is kind of a grampa-thing to say.” “My little brother does more-or-less call me a grampa.” He frowned, shifting from looking at Rafe to the roof in thought. Rafe chuckled again, it was a great sound. Beautiful. It made Sam look at him with that fondness again, grinning in success for helping that sound leave those lips.

And he kept looking. Rafe looking back. A beat went by.

“Your laugh is amazing-” “Your eyes are gorgeous-”

Both stopped in their tracks, catching up what the other had said and broke out in grins. Rafe tilted towards the floor again.

The taller man licked his lips and moved to take a hold of Rafe’s hand. His thumbs caressed softly. The action made the younger look up. Sam met his eyes with much more intent now. Not that he hadn’t been watching him carefully this whole time, but his eyes held a deeper meaning suddenly. He was visibly leaning. There’ wasn’t any confusion to being here. He knew what he was looking for, what he was doing. He was on a mission, searching. “You know you’re eyes are, insane.” He announced in realization. “Like- stunning. Insanely stunning.” Mission complete. Now he’s free to admire his finding. In fact, finding it impossible to look away.

Rafe looked like he’d just seen a star fall for the first time. Or a winter-wonderland. Or a red moon. Or a clear double-rainbow in a rainforrest or something equally amazing to put him in awe. 

He inhaled, taking a step closer. It caused Sam to streach his back up again, and it almost entirely closed their distance, just half a foot remaining inbewteen them.

Air started to come a little shorter.

Rafe reached slowly toward the older stranger. 

“Uh, I,” Rafe whispered, a hand hovering over Sam’s ribs. The latter reached in return towards Rafe’s hips, guiding him to come closer. In response Rafe did, and let his own hands rest on each side of Sam’s ribcage.

The shorter man let out a little sound when their bodies nudged. The scent of cologne, something like gasoline from a vehicle and a hint of smoke suddenly very strong. Very alluring.

“Do you, uh…” Rafe tried again, looking down to the man’s colorbones. The hands on his hips were gentle. Inviting. Distracting.

“You smell very good.” Rafe finally breathed. Finally daring to look up at him again. Sam met Rafe’s eyes. “So do you.” He tossed a glance to his lips. 

“I really wanna kiss you.” He said quietly. Voice steady. A beat. “Kiss me.”  The other whispered.

His tummy felt tight from fluttering. That exciting kind, like when the roller-coster is about to send you flying down after feet upon feet of rolling upward.

Sam leaned in. By instinct eyelids closed just before the first touch. Almost nothing but a tickle, followed a second later by a soft, gentle push. 

The flutters in Rafe’s tummy released into a million pieces, now all bouncing around in there. 

He inhaled through is nose. One of his hands automatically pulled up instead, behind Sam’s head, holding his breath until he felt the taller man move again. The kiss pulled off slightly, lips never completely parting before pushing close again. A tounge carefully pecking, as if asking if a visit was okay. Rafe parted his lips along with his own tounge darting forth in search of the new companion.

Sam made a sound when they met.

He tasted sweet, but not too sweet. A tad bit of coffee. A hint of ciggarette and, something minty or citrus-y. Maybe from gum.

Bodies pressed closer, movements grew more freely, quiet grunts and breaths let out. Sam held Rafe tighter around his back when the kissing resulted in Sam practically dipping him. The following kisses lingered. They slowed down. Parting to get air became essential eventually. Even if they didn’t part more than an inch or two at first. They stood up properly, still flushed close together.

Maybe they were shaking a little. Maybe their shaky breathing gave it away. Maybe they would need a moment, or several, before they could fully part.

“… uhm.” Rafe breathed. “So,” Sam started, smiling lazily, dazed from the man in his arms. “Call me?” Rafe asked with a hopeful tone. All inhibitions be damned. “Friday?” Sam lit up brighter than a ray of summer sun. “Yeah!” Rafe nodded, pleased and excited. 

Flutters going wild in his chest.

In retrospect, if the whole studio had gone quiet or not during their encuonter, the two men who’d been recorded would never be able to answer. Atleast that’s what they told them three years later in an interview for the experiment-partaking couples who are still dating.

[randomnotesofmyown]

Psycho-Pass (7-8)

Episode 7 - Symbolism of Bletilla Striata

Ouryou visited her bedridden father. She thought to herself, "Everyone here is the same. They don't notice anything. They don't say anything. And they don't think anything. They are merely a shell of their former selves and soon they will disappear like the melting snow. This epidemic leads innocent people to their death. And yet its pathogen will never be eradicated. This is a disease called serenity, a form of death that people have wished for."

Ginoza, Kogami and Tsunemori at the park where the "artwork" was found. Ginoza decided to take Kogami off the case because he couldn't allow a detective who was not able to put aside his preconceived notions to be a part of the initial investigation. Kogami walked away. Ginoza then ordered Tsunemori to keep an eye on Kogami so he wouldn't do anything stupid.

Ginoza and the others discussed the similarities between the artwork case and the specimens case while Tsunemori watched Kogami doing his combat training.

After the training session was over, Kogami and Tsunemori started talking about the specimen case, enforcer Sasayama and the circumstances of his death. Kogami said the it looked like the culprit intended to send a message

Tsunemori asked if any leads from the specimen case could be of use to the new case, Kogami said yes and showed Tsunemori a pixelated photo of a man named Makishima.

At Oso academy, more students had gone missing. 

"Ouryou Rikako. Okubo was really crazy about her, right? Rikako seemed to show some interest in her as well. If you ask her, she might know something."

Ouryou in her bedroom reciting a quotation from Kierkegaard that her father liked, "'Because man is superior to animals, in other words, because man is the self, and the spirit, man can be in despair.'" Then, she went to give her own reflection. "Unless you know despair, you cannot know hope. My father used dismembered bodies as the subject of many of his drawings. That's because they symbolize the contradictory nature of the self. I had great respect for my father. He was aware of his obligation as an artist and continued to focus intently on using his creations to enlighten people. I think even now that he was indeed a great artist. Especially because of that, I really can't forgive him for abandoning that duty halfway through. Yesterday, my father passed away. He's been as good as dead for a while, but finally even his heart gave in. But I'm okay. I'm not sad. I' his daughter, will carry out my father's duty together with you guys. Don't you think that's wonderful? It's exciting...right, Yoshika?"

Makishima in his house having a conversation with his guest. They talked about the benefits of stress before psycho-pass check was introduced. "For some time, it's been understood that moderate stress has beneficial effects. For example, it stimulates the immune system. As they say, it's a motivation in your life. You can even call it a reason for living. However, once Psycho-pass checks became routine, people have found their sense of stress numbed so much that patients who can't even recognize stimulation itself started appearing. Once that happens, they're the same as living corpses. Soon their autonomic nervous system stops functioning on its own and their vital functions shut down."

Makishima continued to point out Ouryou Rikako's father also suffered from eustress deficiency and discussed his works.  "He was a genius in drawing cruel, vivid nightmares using girls' bodies as motifs. However, he himself was a man of quite strict morality. Well, it's not uncommon for there to be a disconnect between the creator and the impression their creations give. But in Rouichi's case, there was a firm ideology there. According to him, by becoming firmly aware of the cruelty that's hiding in the dark depths of the human heart, humans can foster the common sense, ability to reason, and goodwill that can control that cruelty. He defined his creation activities as enlightening people about that. However, the spread of psycho-pass assessments ended this role that he had decided for himself. People don't have to control themselves anymore. Instead, they can now maintain their mental health through machine assessments. I heard...that Rouichi welcomed this technology. Whatever the means was, his ideals of humans having a healthy and sound mind has been realized. As a result, though, his mission had ended and his life lost its meaning."

He became addicted to the stress care technology. "As a result, he became a living corpse who couldn't even sit up on the bed, huh?" Makishima's guest pondered.

"It's as if Ouryou Rouichi was killed twice. First, his talent was killed by science and technology. And then, his soul was killed by society." 

"I hope she finds some meaning beyond revenge, though."

While Makishima and his guest made this long conversation about Ouryou Rouichi and Ouryou Rikako, the music played in the background was identified as Beethoven's 9th symphony - Ode to Joy. And there is this entry at Wikipedia describing this music as a protest anthem through the years.

Ouryou Rikako called Choe Gu-Sung. Then she packed and went to what appeared to be a lab and entered. She started creating her third artwork with Yoshika's body.

The second artwork was found in a park.

Ouryou Rikako was painting as Kawarazaki Kagami asked her about Okubo Yoshika. Kawarazaki walked over to Ouryou and saw her painting

Ouryou stood up saying

And she injected something to Kawarazaki

The girl instantly collapsed to the floor.

When Kawarazaki came to, she found herself tied up and gagged, lying on the floor facing the naked body of Okubo Yoshika in a glass container filled with chemicals.

Ouryou appeared behind her. "A touching reunion with your childhood friend. It's an emotionally stirring scene, isn't it? It really makes me cry. I want to reenact this moving scene in a place more and more people can see it. Having such thoughts may indeed be the fate of an artist. "

A desperate gagged scream.

End of episode 7.

Episode 8 - And then, silence

Makishima and Ouryou Rikako talked about the targets she chose, the education policy at Oso Academy and where Ouryou would display her artwork next.

The agents were gathering evidence at Oso academy.

Tsunemori and Kogami discussed their take on the spiecemen case and the artwork case. Tsunemori thought the culprit would be the same person but Kogami thought otherwise. Kogami explained that in the spiecemen case, the victims's bodies were dismembered in ways to convey messages, and the locations they were found varied. But this time, both bodies were found in a park. The setup is boring. 

Kogami concluded that they lacked something critical: originality.

"To Toma Kouzaburo, murdering people was just about preparing materials. Up to that point, it's the same in the current murder case. But from that point, the ways they worked on the bodies are totally different. I get a totally different picture of the culprit. He's highly intelligent and is assigned to a job with a high income by Sibyl's judgment. But he's quite young, or he's someone whose mental age is young. Considering the bodies didn't show many indignities of a sexual nature, we can guess that he wasn't abused as a child." Kogami ended his profiling of the culprit and then requested to go out, Tsunemori said she would have to come along.

Kogami and Tsunemori headed to Tokorozawa Correction and Rehabilitation Center (所沢矯正保謢センタ－) to talk to an artist inmate. He showed the inmate photos of recent artworks. The inmate commented that they looked like works done by Ouryou Rouichi. The two agents had no clue who Ouryou Rouichi was. The inmate showed them one of the artwork by Ouryou Rouichi that he had in his collection.

And added that they sold for good money because they contained firm fundamental themes.

Kogami thanked the inmate for his help and turned to Tsunemori, asking if the name Ouryou brought up anything. Tsunemori found that a student at Oso academy had the same family name. 

Kogami headed straight to the Oso Academy, located Ouryou and pointed a dominator at her.

The teacher who tagged along Kogami tried to stop him from firing and Ouryou seized the opportunity to run. She escaped.

The agents inspected Ouryou's drawings. Kagami's friend saw it and identified her friend.

The agents gathered at the control room, checking footages to locate Ouryou Rikako. Ginoza asked how Kogami found out about this suspect. "The culprit this time decided where to exhibit bodies based solely on whether or not it catches people's attention."

The retrieval of footage with Ouryou Rikako done, and Kogami spotted one image of the girl that was on her own, unaccompanied by others.

After hearing the reply that the camera was at the garbage disposal facility behind the dorm, Kogami headed to that location immediately. The other agents followed him.

It was completely dark inside. Then someone switched the lights on and they saw another artwork.

In the teacher's room, Makishima replayed the recording of Kogami's deduction and was impressed. Makishima's colleague approached, addressed him as Mr. Shibata, and asked if he was interested in music as well. Another colleague rushed in and told everyone in the room that students' bodies were found. Everyone ran out of the room, leaving Makishima alone. He tempered with the CCTV recordings.

Kogami realized it. Yet he managed to reconstruct the audio part of the damaged footage.

Ouryou was still on the run. She asked Choe Gu-sung if the route she was on was the right one. No reply. She looked back, and found no one. Then she got a call from Makishima. "Just in case, I'd like to ask you a question before this is all over. Ouryou Rikako, do you yourself realize how you came to disappoint me? " Ouryou had no clue. "Well...if you don't realize it, then I guess you can't even reflect on it. As I suspected, it seems that I can't expect any more growth from you. It's unfortunate. At first, I thought you had a bright future. " Ouryou asked what Makishima meant by that. "I think this is a line by Tamora, the Queen of Goths. 'So should I rob my sweet sons of their fee. No, let them satisfy their lust on thee.'" Ouryou's mobile phone network died.

"'The hunt is up, the morn is bright and grey. The fields are fragrant and the woods are green. Uncouple here and let us make a bay.'" Makishima continued quoting the Queen of Goths. 

"'They told me, here, at dead time of the night, a thousand fiends, a thousand hissing snakes, ten thousand swelling toads, as many urchins, would make sure fearful and confused cries.'"

Ouryou hid in the dark, relieved at the sight that the thing (electric hound) walked past without noticing her. She stepped right into a trap.  

"'Listen, fair madam: let it be your glory to see her tears; but be your heart to them as unrelenting flint to drops of rain.'"

Rikako tapped open her father's photo on her phone. An electric hound found her.

"'So, now go tell, and if thy tongue can speak, who 'twas that cut thy tongue and ravish'd thee. Write down thy mind, bewray thy meaning so. And if thy stumps will let thee play the scribe.'"

As Ouryou was being pursued and injured by the hound, Makishima's guest hummed the tune of Ode to Joy.

Makishima's guest appeared in front of Ouryou Rikako

The man said coldly that "you don't have to worry about that." Then he fired.

After Rikako died, Makishima made a request that information about Kogami be gathered, adding that Kogami's insight and ability to grasp were quite interesting.

End of episode 8.

Comment: Episode seven: It seems Makishima's view was that the technology had become all-encompassing in every aspect of human life that humans no longer have to make decisions on their own, that since everything had been taken care of, humans got reduced to living things only. And he wanted to rebel against that system, he wanted to see how humans cope without that system, maybe that's why Ode to Joy was used as the background music when Makishima made that long speech about Ouryou Rouichi's art and how he lost his life's meaning to science and technology.

Episode eight: Makishima spent a great part of episode eight quoting Tamora, a villain from Shakespeare's Titus Androinicus. I googled and found that this villain was very consumed with the thought to revenge against Titus Abdroinicus, the general who captured her. And she made elaborate plans to carry out her revenge on everyone mattered to Titus. So it seems a major theme on Makishima's mind was revenge. And as with Mido, when Makishima got bored with Rikako, he discarded her without mercy. And he's guest, a hunter with two electric hounds, hunted Rikako down, injured her, and then killed her with a shot to the head. Merciless, manipulative, vengeful, with utter disregard of life, such are the components of Makishima's personality.

[sanerontheinside]

Cliche AU fic prompt: do you write Codywan??? Because I have a sudden need for some fluffy Codywan fic. I'd love a Celebrity AU or a Cops AU, but really anything, I'm not picky!!

jawejf;aoiejr I ran out of steam on this I’m sorry but anyone’s welcome to pick up? Or you can throw it back into sw’verse and make Obi-Wan Space Anderson Cooper, that would actually be fantastic. 

@aidava and I would be glad to see it 

especially “if you can incorporate the ‘the less anderson cooper is wearing, the more dire the reporting situation’ joke”, as aidava says :D

oh yeah! so basically since ‘sharing a cab au’ landed on that prompt list twice I figured I’d feel free and make another. so I smashed together cops au and celebrity au and got bodyguard au so uh there u go

Cody checked his watch as he popped the cap of the cheap coffee he’d picked up at the bagel shop near his apartment complex. It was quarter to six and raining, a cold, wet, and absolutely miserable start to the day.

Not that it was the start of the day for him—no, that had been at two in the bloody morning, waking up in a cold sweat and shaking with adrenaline, tangled in his sheet on the floor. It wasn’t the worst he’d been in the last couple months, but it did smack a bit of irony that now, when he finally had a job to focus on, the nightmares immediately came rushing back to ruin his first day.

All he had to do was drive some famous person around, possibly keep admirers off them from venue to vehicle to home. Not that he was currently parked and and waiting in an area that screamed ‘famous people’, but hells, what did he know. Rent-controlled apartments, Jewish community—apart from the synagogue he’d driven past, there was no mistaking the dark overcoats and hats. Cody hadn’t exactly been keeping up with the latest news and entertainment, but for the life of him he couldn’t imagine who it was he was meant to be chauffeuring. He knew where Maria Callas used to live—hello, odd bits of a past life’s study at Julliard—and he knew one of his professors’ assistants lived in this area. That didn’t give him any clues to go on.

Although, now he thought about it—Maria Callas hadn’t lived far from here, closer to West Side Highway. He tried to imagine providing security for a musician of her calibre, and couldn’t. It was too far out of the realm of his typical assignments.

He grimaced into his coffee, which got only less tolerable with every sip—he’d seen the new guy manning the coffee machine at the bagel place this morning, so he really should’ve known. At least the liquid had burned away half his tastebuds while it was still scalding.

Out of the corner of his eye, Cody caught a glimpse of something that must have been unusual. He looked up—yeah, the leather jacket and messenger bag were certainly a bit out of the ordinary, for what he’d seen so far. The man looked good, though, Cody thought—especially when he turned and started down the street in his direction. Right at that moment the windshield wipers sluiced off a generous bit of water and gave him a better view. It took two seconds for Cody to put a name to that face, and then connect it to the direction he’d taken. He choked and nearly spilled his cup of morning poison.

He knew exactly what his assignment was.

Obi-Wan Kenobi dropped into his backseat with a huff. “Good morning. I’m sorry, I thought I told Depa I didn’t need a car this morning.”

Cody swallowed. “Well, Ms. Billaba wanted me to let you know that she’d be covering expenses for as long as she thinks it’s necessary to keep you safe.”

Obi-Wan flashed him a wry grin. “Understood. I’ll direct all complaints to her.”

Cody felt his neutral working mask drop down, and put the lid back on his coffee. “We make every effort to provide satisfactory service to all our clients.”

“Oh, I have complete faith in your abilities,” Kenobi said with an absolutely disarming grin. “I’m just worried you’d be wasting your time with me, that’s all.”

Uh-huh. “Yes, sir.”

As far as celebrities went, Kenobi wasn’t exactly the first name that came to mind. In his own words, he’d been ‘uncomfortably thrust into the limelight’ about a year ago. He’d been a correspondent for a secondary paper—one that had recently gone bankrupt—enjoying his semi-anonymity. As Obi-Wan had said in interviews since, the loss of this anonymity was just about the worst thing that could have happened to his career in investigative journalism.

By all other accounts, though, it had only been a matter of time before Kenobi made a name for himself entirely without anyone’s assistance. He had a gift for finding a story, which was another way of saying he had a gift for getting into trouble.

The story that made him famous had barely even seen the papers. Kenobi certainly hadn’t penned it. Instead he’d turned around and testified in-camera against one Sheev Palpatine, then CEO of Empire Security—which is to say he went and stirred up trouble, and the fame was an unintended side-effect.

Palpatine, with what influence remained to him during the trial, had allegedly spent a hefty sum of money to ferret out a suspected whistleblower. His investigators ran up against several walls and a general or two before they finally grew an imagination and looked outside Empire’s employees, at civilians. From there it might not have been more than two short and easy steps to a bright young reporter by the name of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Palpatine then tasked his best people with running an ugly smear campaign, with the sort of virulence typically reserved for a Senator who wouldn’t vote his way. But, as Kenobi was neither a politician nor running for office, he shook off much of the resulting noise like water. He was charming, earnest, always effusive about his love for his work. (Cody thought it probably hadn’t hurt that the man didn’t seem to have the faintest idea when he was flirting, and would likely have had chemistry with a wooden block, if it came to that, but never mind.)

Obi-Wan also left the country not long after the trial was over, vanishing into Africa to cover an ongoing conflict—aftershocks of a civil war long over. That report had gotten him hired literally within days of his return, as it turned out.

By now, Cody thought, there couldn’t be a cynic left alive who hadn’t already been aware, at least on some instinctual level, that Palpatine was bent. Palpatine’s company wasn’t particularly improved for the fact that it shared a name with a flooring company. The average citizen had never even heard of it, for the most part, and yet Empire handled a startlingly large percentage of Defense contracts. Cody’s experiences with Empire’s mercenaries had been unpleasant at the best of times.

He was beginning to see why Depa worried. Especially given that Kenobi had recently been offered a book deal for exactly the story that had landed him in the public eye, and Palpatine in prison. Particularly when there were rumours that Palpatine might get an early release.

He did stay close, though, when those nebulous rumours coalesced into verifiable news of an impending hearing. Cody watched Obi-Wan, in particular, when that bit of news crossed his desk. His smile thinned, his expression became pensive more often than not. There were more tense phone calls that week than usual, more late hours at the cramped, dark office, more takeout dinners. Cody half expected him to start sleeping at the office, though he didn’t want to know what the short couch there could do to a person’s back.

By then, Cody knew Obi-Wan’s routine so well he could almost sense the moment Obi-Wan needed his tea refilled. He’d taken it upon himself to do so anyway, having quickly realised that without someone putting a plate or a cup of tea in Obi-Wan’s general vicinity, the man would plainly forget to eat. Cody hadn’t figured out getting him to sleep at regular hours yet, but in his defence he’d never been particularly good at that himself. At least trying to keep up with Kenobi actually exhausted him to the point that he slept without nightmares—for the most part.

Cody was just passing Obi-Wan another steaming cup when he shoved the laptop aside with a heavy sigh and rubbed fiercely at his eyes. He eyed the mug blankly for a moment, then smiled.

“Oh, bless you, Cody,” Obi-Wan sighed, hunching forward and all but wrapping himself around the cup. “Your timing is impeccable.”

Cody grinned, a warm feeling creeping through him as he sat down beside him on the ragged couch. “Pressing deadline?” he asked, nodding at the laptop.

“Of a sort.” Obi-Wan sighed heavily. “You know, when I testified against Palpatine I thought that should be enough to bury him, for good.”

Cody shrugged. “He’s rich, he’s powerful, he owns three senators and their penthouses. What were you expecting?”

Obi-Wan shot him a politely abashed glare. “Pardon me for daring to be occasionally optimistic,” he said wryly—apparently completely unoffended. “In any case, I might be able to push the book out for an early release. Though, I’m beginning to suspect that was a bit ambitious of me.”

“I did wonder about that,” Cody admitted. “His trial didn’t get any publicity. Last year, no one seemed to know who he is or what he was arrested for.”

“They wouldn’t have, if he hadn’t drawn attention to me in the first place.” Obi-Wan scowled at his tea as he viciously toed off his shoes and put his feet up on the almost comically small coffee table. “It’s interesting, actually—the paper I worked for went bankrupt, and most of the places I submitted my stories to in the last year wouldn’t accept them, no matter how eager they when I pitched them. It was just starting to get a little easier in the last month or two.”

Cody barely stopped himself from turning to glare at the man. “Please tell me this isn’t why you thought I’d be ‘wasting my time’ watching your back.”

Obi-Wan seemed surprised. “Well, no, I mean—I’d just gotten a job here, and in a few months I’ll be temporarily replacing Jane as the anchor for the news. It’s not so much that I thought—oh, yes, all right. I thought it would finally stop. I got a job, I got an offer to publish the damn book. Logically, yes, I know, people like that never stop.” He huffed and buried his face in his hands, the mug resting mostly empty on the arm of the couch beside him. “Fuck.”

Cody sighed. “Daring to be occasionally optimistic, right.” That got him a faint snort.

“Honestly I just thought there had to be more interesting targets,” Obi-Wan mumbled. “I was abroad for a year, anyway.”

Cody couldn’t help himself and laughed softly, reaching out to grasp Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “If it’s any consolation, I’m here to be as pessimistic as necessary to keep you out of trouble.”

Obi-Wan huffed, collapsing sideways to rest his shoulder against Cody’s. “I trust you.”

They sat that way for another few moments, until Cody drained his own mug. It was only when he tried to put the cup down that he realised Obi-Wan had fallen asleep, and smiled fondly at the disgruntled sleepy mumbling. Not wanting to wake him just yet, Cody set his timer for twenty minutes and settled back, sighing. In twenty minutes, he would wake Obi-Wan up, take him home, and that would be the end of the night, yes…

Six hours later he woke up stiff-backed and with a faint headache, with faint snoring in his ear. “Shit.”