#I asked one of my volunteer teammates what his preference was for when I did the written version of the interview we're going to do together

[tmae3114]

most days I feel like most of what I do in terms of trying to accommodate other disabled people is just. the bare minimum. even though I know that I do stuff that other people don’t, it doesn’t feel like I’m putting in any particular effort beyond just... basic decency and compassion. it feels like the people who don’t are failing to perform basic decency and compassion, y’know?

and most of the time the responses I get feel in line with that. just other people recognising basic decency when performed. a nod, a “thank you”, where appropriate, mostly just unacknowledged because it’s not something that needs acknowledged. it’s the same kind of response I tend to give

but sometimes I get a response that’s just heartbreaking and that always pushes me to keep paying attention and keep trying to do more because if so many other people are going to fail at basic kindness then somebody’s got to pick up the slack and if I don’t, who will?

#this is mostly a vent post but you can reblog if you want #if I get bothered by reblogs I now have the option to Simply Turn Them Off #this post was prompted by the fact that a couple of weeks ago #I asked one of my volunteer teammates what his preference was for when I did the written version of the interview we're going to do together #would he prefer I transcribe his speech exactly as he said it with his stammer included #or would he prefer I write it as the questions are written in our notes? #and he gave me the WIDEST eyed look and went ''you can DO that?'' #before saying he ABSOLUTELY wants it written exactly as he says it on the day ''if that's okay'' #and I just. that should NOT have been the response. that should NOT be such a surprise to him #writing a transcript of his speech exactly as he said it should be the STANDARD EXPECTATION #I knew it wasn't that's why I ASKED but it should not have been such a shock to BE asked #and I think about when I was in college and got accomodation for my auditory processing issues for the first time #and the way I felt when I realised that this was me FINALLY for the FIRST TIME on even footing #and just. the way that that felt. #and I'm not saying that every single form of accomodation is simple or basic or easy #some is difficult and requires significant effort and not everyone is in a position to do it #but being patient and respectful and /ASKING PEOPLE/ THEIR NEEDS AND PREFERENCES #should not be something that so often seems to be a rare treat for the recipient #an untrained twenty-three year old should not be a more conscientous guide for a blind teenager than her professional school aide yknow? #hhhhhhhhh it's two am and I'm having Feelings

[true-blue-sonic]

Some thoughts I had about IDW's Duo/Mimic and the New Diamond Cutters below (perhaps an unpopular opinion?):

With Evan Stanley confirming Duo!Mimic specifically has been made to look almost exactly the same to Slinger the Ocelot, I must say I am rather surprised Whisper does not express any kind of recognition or sense of worry about how familiar Duo must look to her. After all, not only does he look 90% the same to one of her dead friends, there is also the issue that...

...Duo's fur colour is exactly the same as Mimic's body. I am really surprised that Whisper just does not notice these similarities or shows anything akin to recognition (and the suspicion that comes along with it), and I really find it a shame! Because I did really like these bits of justification Duo gives for wanting to join:

Mimic knows exactly what to say to endear the entire trio to him at once. He's preying perfectly on the values each individual finds important. For Lanolin, he points out that they need volunteers* and how he wants to make a difference, fitting with her desire to ensure no-one would ever be harmed or terrified again by Eggman's attacks alongside tackling the limited manpower and means of the Restoration. Tangle loves the more adventurous life she lives after meeting Sonic and co. and greatly cherishes the new friends she has made; Mimic points those things out verbatim. And Whisper has greatly suffered under losing her old crew and is a highly serious, if not the most serious, member of the New Diamond Cutters, thus Mimic states he knows the work is dangerous and he will ensure to take it seriously and be reliable. It covers all facets of what the trio finds important in a teammate (dedicated and helpful; fun and adventure-loving; reliable and taking it seriously), which is why I don't like how Mimic manages to pull off such a clever bit of manipulation (if that is the correct term) despite the fact there is no way Whisper should not be suspicious of him with this extremely paper-thin disguise. We as readers of course should know that this is indeed Mimic, but that gets shown literally three pages afterwards anyway and is discussed between Mimic and Clutch beforehand. And since Duo is shown on the cover of issue 67, I heavily doubt that anyone (other than perhaps Silver, who I am 100% certain is not going to be believed anyway, based on the contents of the solicits for issue 63 and 64) is going to notice this. I really would have preferred it if Mimic's disguise wasn't this obvious; it would have made the Diamond Cutters (and especially Whisper) falling for it hook, line and sinker a lot less eyebrow-raising on their part. Mimic's words and reasoning are cleverly done to gain the trio's trust, and yet it should have fallen through immediately the moment Whisper laid her eyes on him, in my opinion.

(*That is another thing I found striking about this issue: the new Diamond Cutters are discussing about how they need new volunteers, and literally two seconds later Duo comes cruising in like "Hi I heard you need new volunteers". And no-one questions how strange it is that he knows that? There is no way he could have, since the concept of recruiting more people has clearly been discussed only between the three girls mere moments prior! Yet Tangle asks him if he wants to join, he says "Yes, I heard you were accepting volunteers", and no-one bats an eye at exactly when he heard it. Again, also this part makes the Diamond Cutters inadvertently come off as far too trusting and simply idiotically gullible to me.)

#hmm I don't know if tagging this with all the respective characters and the name of the comic would be impolite or not #but yes Mimic *at least* should have been a different colour than his usual octopus self and then I would have found it a lot more likely- #-already that nobody (especially Whisper) questioned anything about his appearance‚ colouration‚ and similarities to Slinger

[fangirlovestuff]

More Than Meets The Eye - Steve Rogers x reader

a/n - hey lovely people!! this one is for @s1utforfictionalcharacters​, who asked for a Steve x reader enemies to lovers a while ago. thank you so much for bearing with me and being patient, and i hope you enjoy!!<3

Summary: Between figuring out what was the Tesseract doing at a Hydra base and if it even is the Tesseract, you need to navigate your relationaship with one annoying, broody Captain. Honestly, you might prefer the Hydra thing. 

this isn’t set in the mcu timeline, but takes inspiration from a few mcu movies. it’s not canon compliant and everyone’s alive:)

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: lowkey angst and some tension, maybe a curse word or two? tell me if i missed anything!

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

"Rogers!" you heard Tony's voice over the comms, "Where the hell are you?"

"Babysitting," you heard Steve's irritated voice, not only over the comms but also behind you, right before you saw him dashing past you to punch the Hydra agent you were fighting square in the jaw.

"Well, get America's ass over here, now," Tony grunted, clearly mid-fight himself, "we need backup."

"Go!" you yelled at him, spinning to take out another agent that was coming up behind Steve, "I got this!"

"You sure?" he asked, his tone sarcastically degrading, jumping while kicking two agents simultaneously. Showoff.

"Yes," you resisted the urge to roll your eyes, "I can handle them, go help the others!"

"Alright," he grunted as he pushed off another agent before running back in the direction he came from, towards the rest of the team.

"Cap, you coming or what?" Natasha spoke on the comms, calmer than Tony, but it was obvious she's just as in need of backup as he was.

"Coming!" Steve replied, before it went relatively quiet.

You finished up disarming the rest of the agents in your wing of the building. No one was calling for you on the comms yet, so you decided to make another round in the perimeter, make sure you didn't miss anything.

God knows captain know-it-all is gonna be on your ass about it if that's the case. And honestly, you have more than enough of that as is.

As you were walking down the hallway, you noticed a strange, glowing light coming from under the doors. Upon finding it was unlocked, you opened it to reveal a room that was entirely filled with the same blueish light you had seen, and it was all coming from a desk in the middle of it.

Approaching slowly and letting your eyes time to adjust, you got closer and closer, realizing the shiny object was a peculiar blue cube. A cube you knew well, perhaps even too well.

"Guys, if you're done over there, you might wanna come to my wing. There's something you're gonna want to see."

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

"Okay, we have to keep looking, maybe they left some blueprints or anything that can indicate how they were planning on using it," Steve commanded, "or already have."

"Wait," you said before everyone split up to follow his orders, "as important as the why they got it is, I think the first question we should be asking is how the hell they got it. I thought it was locked away in the Asgard safe?" you looked at Bruce, who out of all of you had the most contact with Thor.

"It was, the last time I checked," he frowned. "I'll see if I can contact Thor, see if he knows anything."

"You do that," Tony interjected, "the rest of you, follow Cap's order while he and I have a little chat. Shall we Rogers?" he pulled a frowning Steve aside, while you all split up to try and find any information you could salvage.

In your search, you ran into Natasha. As you were both scouring the same desk for clues, working together like a well-oiled machine, you asked, "what did Tony want from Cap?"

"Probably to ask him where the hell was he when we needed his backup," she said matter-of-factly. "Or, you know, where the heck he was. We all know Steve's proper like that," she smiled, and you let out a chuckle at her words.

"Well, that’s good," you remarked, "since he really should've been there for you guys. I don't know what was that all about," you scrunched up your nose. "Nothing here," you added, closing the drawer you were looking through.

"Yeah, here too," Natasha closed her own drawer, "let's go."

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

Later that day, you were all having dinner together as you went over some papers the others found at the Hydra base. Since you were already in the same place, you split the takeout, taking caution not to spill any of it.

"Cap," you asked, seeing the saltshaker was too far for you to reach, "Can you pass me th-" your words were abruptly cut by him planting it in your hand, going back to whatever it is he was reading.

"Thanks," you muttered, going back to your paperwork as well.

This might be the place to mention that pretty much ever since you joined the team, Steve exhibited a certain… coldness to you. Arrogance, indifference, call it what you want – from day one, Steve Rogers made sure you knew he was better than you.

And considering he was literally Captain America, it's not like you thought you were ever better than him in the first place.

You blended in with the rest of the team seamlessly, fighting and training among them. I mean sure, there were jokes about you being "the new kid", but it was just that – jokes. No one, or at least no one but Steve, seemed to view you as inferior.

You still fought well together, it was your job. Hell, he just passed you the salt before you even finished asking for it. Being attuned to each other's actions and attitude in that way made it all the more obvious how much he seemed to covet his leadership position, his place of dominance.

It got on your nerves. So. Much.

You see, if he were like that to everyone else on the team, so be it. But the absolute majority of it was directed towards you – the new girl. And it was clear that's all he ever saw you as. A girl.

Even that salt thing – he handed it over so impatiently, so suddenly, like one would handle an irritating child.

You had hoped he'd get over it at some point, but so far, that didn't seem to be the case. Well, you're not planning on going anywhere, so you'll both have to get over yourselves at some point.

"Hey!" Steve snapped his fingers in front of your eyes, shaking you from your reverie. "C'mon, listen up. Tony found something."

Oh well, that "some point" is probably not today.

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

"So, Hydra wanted to use this," Natasha gestured at the Tesseract, "To power up a weapon they've designed?"

"That's the gist of it," Tony confirmed. "But from the looks of it, this thing is a lot more powerful than it seems. They planned on powering up a whole armored aircraft, plus all of their rifles using this cube. If that's possible, and by the looks of it, it very well might be, it's a lot stronger than you'd think."

"Wait, what do you mean their rifles as well?" you asked, your brows furrowing, "like, split this thing into pieces?"

"No, it looks like they were planning to project its power somehow, like…" Tony trailed off, struggling to explain.

"Like… Bluetooth?" you suggested.

"Yeah," tony snickered, "pretty much."

"Okay, but they didn't do that yet, right? We stopped them?" you looked around to the rest of your teammates before looking back at Tony.

"Seems like we did," Steve answered instead. "Bruce, any update on how they managed to get it?"

"Didn't hear anything back yet," the man in question shook his head, "I'll try again."

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

When Bruce ended up getting an answer from Thor, telling him to come to Asgard, you immediately volunteered to go with him. It was partially because you've never actually been there, and you were very curious as to why Thor would ask Bruce to come.

But also, you could use a break from a certain Captain.

You tried to ask Bucky and Sam what his deal with you was, several times, but they just shrugged and gave you vague, unhelpful answers. You even considered trying to convince Wanda to just tell you what he thinks about you, but you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of bothering you so much that you'd stoop that low.

So lately, you've been just trying to avoid him, which usually worked just fine, since it's not like he was that adamant about being around you either. That is, until you said you'd go with Bruce.

"No way," he immediately objected.

"Why?" you asked, "Bruce might need some backup, and I'd like to visit Asgard. Win-win."

"We need you here, going over the papers."

"C'mon Cap, I think we both know I do better out there in the field than I do with all the blueprints. Tony's way better with that, he's the only one who does it anyway."

"So what, you're just gonna go on a field trip?" he sneered.

"No, I'm going to look out for my friend and teammate." It took everything in you to keep your voice level.

"That's nice. Cause it would be a shame if Banner had to watch your back while you went on vacation."

You scoffed. "Where did you even get that idea? I said I was gonna give Banner backup. That's the first thing I said, cause that's the most important thing. End of story."

"Fine." Steve shrugged.

"Fine?"

"Yeah, if Banner's willing to take you with him, go."

"Good," you nodded.

"Great."

Somewhat awkwardly, you shuffled out of the room to tell Bruce to count you in.

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

Natasha was the one to send both you and Bruce off to Asgard, the rest being otherwise occupied.

"Be safe," she told the both of you, holding each of your shoulders with one of her hands, before stepping away.

"We will," Bruce promised and you nodded, and just in time the Bifrost came down, taking the both of you where you needed to get.

Thor was the one to greet you, taking you both in for a warm hug before his face became serious.

"I didn't call you all the way here for nothing," he said, "come with me to the palace."

As you were on your way, he explained. "When you told me you encountered the Tesseract in Midgard, I immediately checked in our vault. Sure enough, there's still a Tesseract there."

"A Tesseract? I thought there was just the one," you frowned.

"We did too," Thor replied, "which is why I wanted you both to come see it for yourselves. Maybe you'd be able to point out some differences."

Getting to the palace, you wasted no time going down to the vault. And there it was – the Tesseract.

"How…" you trailed off. It looked completely identical to the one you had found on earth, the same blue tinted glint lighting up its surroundings.

"That's what I was hoping you might have an answer for," Thor sighed, his brows furrowing. "You said the one you encountered was previously in the possession of a group called… Chimera?"

"Hydra," Bruce corrected him. "And yes, we found it in one of their bases."

"Is it possible that the one we found was a fake?" you asked, lifting your eyes from the Tesseract. "Or maybe this one is the fake? Is there a way to know?"

"The only way to know is to try and use them," Bruce sighed, "but trying to wield the power of an infinity stone can be dangerous and destructive to the one who tries. It's something we should try and avoid."

"Okay," you thought, "can't we try and take this one to earth? See if maybe Tony could run some tests on them both, find us a lead as to which one's the real one?"

"That sounds like a good idea," Bruce agreed, "or at least the best one we've got. Can we take it?"

"Of course. I trust you to guard it," he looked at Bruce fondly.

"Thank you," Bruce's eyes and smile are sincere as he shakes Thor's hand.

You pick up the Tesseract tentatively, putting it in your bag and looking back up at Bruce, whose handshake with Thor was still lingering. You hated to interrupt, but you two needed to go back to earth to fill your friends in if you wanted to solve this mystery.

"Shall we?" you asked, somewhat softly.

"Yeah," Bruce shook his head slightly, "Let's go."

You trailed behind Bruce and Thor as you made your way back to the Bifrost, thinking it over.

If the Tesseract you found on earth was the fake, then why would Hydra have a fake? And if the one that was currently in your bag was the fake, then why would they just leave the real one lying around while the Avengers stormed their base? And at any case, how did they manage to make such an accurate replica?

"Thank you, Thor," you said sincerely once you reached the end of the Bifrost. "We're going to figure this out."

"I know you will," he said, and touched your shoulder affectionately.

You said your goodbyes, and then, you and Bruce started to make the journey home, until suddenly you felt a force push you out of the Bifrost, and before you knew it you landed on dirt, rolling a few times, Bruce landing a few feet away from you.

Hurriedly getting up, you helped Bruce to his feet as well, before the two of you looked around to find yourself in the middle of what seemed to be a desert, but it was like nothing you've seen before.

The sand was orange, red, much darker than it was in deserts you've been to. You and Bruce landed in some sort of valley, surrounded by large dunes of the dark sand, creating a perfect circle around you.

"Have any idea where we are?" you asked, trying to keep your cool, "Or how we got here?"

"I-"

His words were cut off by the sound of a gun cocking behind you. Instinctively, you crouched down and spun around, sending your leg out, taking the man down with a kick to his ankles.

But it wasn't enough. Before you could fully get back up, you and Bruce were already surrounded by agents, and the fight quickly escalated into a hand-to-hand one, having to take on multiple agents at a time. At some point, Bruce hulked out, but even then, you were still fighting them all simultaneously.

You barely managed to take in the glint of a knife from the corner of your eye before the felt the sharp sting of it on your ribs, your hand automatically going to hold the wound. The man started running in the other direction, which was when you realized you weren't the objective of this attack.

Your bag was.

"Bruce!" you yelled, trying to get his attention, as you started trying to run after the agent.

But before Bruce could even notice you, a deep rumble sounded through the air, the prominent crackling of thunder. You turned around just in time to see Thor coming down from the sky, Mjolnir clad tightly in his fist, sending bolts of lightning at your enemies.

You turned back and tried to keep running, but you couldn't do it fast enough, the wound in your ribcage still bleeding, and soon, the agent disappeared from sight.

You were panting when the battle died down, a mere few minutes after Thor's arrival. You didn't turn around, even as you sensed Bruce and Thor approaching you from behind.

"I lost it," you said, still unable to meet their eyes.

"They took it," Bruce said gently. "Now, let me take a look at that wound."

Well, you thought, that's not how Steve's going to see it.

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

"You lost it?" Steve asked, his disbelief clear. His eyes were trained on you, a frown on his face.

"She got hurt trying to protect it, Steve," Bruce answered before you could. "We'll get it back."

Steve's eyes didn't waver from yours, even as Bruce spoke.

"I'm sorry," you said, your voice coming out smaller than you wanted to. You cleared your throat, continuing stronger, "I did everything I could."

"I told you, you shouldn't have gone out there," he sighed, frustrated.

"Really, Cap?" you asked, "is this the time for 'I told you so's? for a hundred-year-old that's really fucking childish," you said through your teeth.

"Watch it," he snapped, "next time, maybe if you listen to me you won't get hurt."

"If I'm that bad of a soldier, Captain," you spat out, "am I not dispensable to you? Why do you even care if I get hurt? I bet it would've been just the same to you if I died but you still had the Tesseract."

Your words rendered him speechless, and you turned to walk towards the med bay. Bruce offered you his arm, but the look you sent him made it very obvious you weren't interested in company.

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

The wound healed well. You and Steve were… civil, to say the best.

You'd admit your words that day you were back from Asgard were harsh. You'd even admit that to his face, if he'd change his attitude towards you. Which he didn't, so really, maybe he deserved to hear them.

Anyways, a few days after the Asgard thing, the wound was fine, and you had an idea.

"Hey," you asked Tony, who happened to be next to you at the moment, "what if we go ask Strange?"

"What?" he looked up from the robot he was currently tinkering with.

"What if we went to Strange to ask him about the Tesseract?" you repeated, "he'd probably know more than us about this stuff."

Tony wasted no time in calling a team meeting, in which you told the others your idea about reaching out to Strange.

"That's a really good idea," Steve said.

Taken aback, you opened your mouth to speak, but before you could, he continued, "I'm coming with you."

Yep, it was way too good to be true.

"Why?" you asked, frowning. "I thought Tony would come, since he's already had a run-in with him before."

"Yes, but I think we can agree he's not the most diplomatic person out there," Steve smirked.

"I'm right here," Tony remarked dryly.

Steve paid him no mind and continued, "And besides, he's pretty much the only one except Bruce that knows enough to figure out Hydra's blueprints, and we still need all hands on deck in that front.  So, I'm coming with you," he finished in a tone that left no room for argument.

You considered objecting anyways, but knew whatever you'd say would sound childish and tactless, so you simply nodded at him.

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

Since the Sanctum Dr. Strange usually resided in was in New York, there was no need for Steve and you to take the Quinjet, but you did take a car from Tony's collection, which Steve drove. The car ride was filled with quite the uncomfortable silence, but at least it was better than arguing, right?

Small victories.

When Steve parked the car about a block away from the Sanctum, you both got out swiftly, blending right in with your civilian clothes, and making your way to the doorstep.

There, Steve knocked on the door hesitantly. You both listened, but there was no answer. You held onto the handle and managed to open the unlocked door easily. You exchanged a look with Steve, both of you on high alert, and entered through the door, Steve closing it behind you.

You both silently stood in the threshold, contemplating your next move. Eventually, you took a tentative step forward, and just then a red object whipped right in front of your eyes, making you stumble backwards, right into Steve. You quickly turned around to apologize, but before you noticed it the red fabric was wrapped tightly around your arms, holding them tight against your torso. Steve was in a similar predicament, and since the cape wasn’t that long, you two were left tied face to face and extremely close to each other.

You tried to wiggle out of the fabric's hold, but it was almost like it tightened with your every move, adjusting itself accordingly. You struggled against it, trying to move even the slightest bit, but it wouldn't budge. You sighed, looking up at Steve.

Oh my god, he was way closer than you'd realized. His wide frame towering over you, you swallowed dryly before you whispered, "What now?"

Before he could answer, the sound of footsteps carried through the halls, and soon enough, Dr. Stephen Strange was descending down the stairs of the New York Sanctum to greet you.

"Hello," he said, his face indifferent, "I wasn't expecting you."

"Well, we weren't expected to get so… tied up, so that makes three of us," Steve remarked, prompting you to chuckle.

"Hello, Dr. Strange," you introduced yourself to him, "the Captain and I were wondering if you could help us with some… Tesseract trouble."

"Sounds awful," he smirked slightly. "Follow me," he started going up the stairs again and you exchanged a look with Steve. "Oh right," he gestured with his hand, and the red fabric detangled itself from the two of you, and turned out to be a cloak as it wrapped around Strange's shoulders. "I almost forgot," the man chuckled, "Now come on."

You and Steve exchanged another look as you rubbed your arm where the cloak dug into it a little, before following Strange up the stairs and into the library, where he offered you two chairs to sit in before sitting down in front of you. In the air. He was sitting down while floating.

Still less weird than the cloak, in your opinion.

"So," he started, "what, uh, Tesseract trouble are you having, exactly?"

Steve and you took turns explaining the situation to him, from finding a Tesseract in a Hydra base to losing the one that was previously in Asgard. Steve, to your relief and wonder, said nothing about it being your fault, but just said it wasn't in your possession anymore.

"So," you summed up, "we were wondering if you knew how anyone could manage to replicate the Tesseract this well, and how can we tell which one's the fake one. Without using them, of course."

"Well, those are great questions. I don't know of another way to determine if an infinity stone is indeed real besides taking the risk and trying to use it, so I can't help you with that. But as for the fake, I believe opening the Tesseracts will provide a good enough answer. You see, the Tesseract isn't that hard to fake. Might be a little expensive, sure, but some lights and plastic and you're set, and from what I understand Hydra isn't exactly struggling financially. But," he sighed, "you can’t fake an infinity stone. For most people, once you'll come in direct contact with it, you'll feel its power, and also its destructive properties."

"So the only way to know if an infinity stone is real is to risk touching it?" Steve asked.

"As far as I know of, yes," Strange nodded.

"Thank you," you said, "for your help. We sure get back to the compound, but we'll let you know if there are any big developments."

When Steve and you got back to the compound, everyone was already waiting for you, and you told them what Strange told you. Together, you all went to open the tesseract you had found in the Hydra base.

"Be careful not to touch what's inside," you warned, and Tony put of his Iron Man arm before breaking the side of the glowing cube, opening it to find…

A bunch of wires and lightbulbs. They didn't even try to make it look like an infinity stone.

"Well, the one in Asgard could've also been a fake," Natasha shrugged. "This doesn't really tell us anything. C'mon guys, we'll continue the search tomorrow," she touched your shoulder comfortingly before slipping away.

You were about to do the same when you saw Steve fidgeting with his sleeve, around where the cloak was wrapped around him. You walked up to him.

"You okay?" you asked, expecting him to brush you off.

"Yeah, I just think this cape held on a little too strong," he chuckled, removing his hand to reveal a stain on the fabric of his right suit sleeve, on you knew all too well was blood.

"Oh my god," you frowned. "C'mon, I'll help you clean it up," you gestured towards the med bay.

The walk there was brief and silent, and when you got there, you told Steve to sit down before ripping his sleeve enough to see the shallow wound.

"You don't have to do this," Steve said, as you looked for some gauze pad and wet it with water.

"I know," you said, "but since I'm the reason we needed to go there in the first place, I am doing this."

"You know it's not your fault, right? You couldn’t have known he'd have a magical cape that ties up people."

"That's not what I was talking about," you mumbled, before cleaning the wound gently.

Steve sighed. "I guess I do owe you an apology for the Asgard thing. I acted like a jerk. I'm sorry."

"No, you were right," you chuckled bitterly, "it's my fault we lost what might've been the real space stone to Hydra. You were just the only one willing to admit that."

"Well, I hope you know what you said about me then wasn't true. I care. You know, if you get hurt. And I wouldn't want anyone to die so I can have anything."

"I know," you said dryly, "you're too perfect for that."

You finished cleaning the wound and started bandaging it.

"That's not- god, I really do have a way with words, don't I? you probably hate me by now."

"I don't hate you, Steve," you looked up from his arm to his eyes, and he smiled at you. "Relax, it doesn't mean I like you all that much either," you smirked, prompting him to laugh.

"Yeah, that's fair, I guess. Thank you," he gestured to his now bandaged arm.

"Sure," you sent a small smile his way before walking away.

Maybe Steve Rogers wasn't that bad after all.

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

Okay, scratch that, Steve Rogers was the worst.

The conversation actually started out civil. Nice, even.

"Hey, Cap," you started, "do you know if Bruce found anything on the wiring in the fake Tesseract yet?"

"Nope," he turned to face you.

"Oh. Well, thanks," you smiled, "I'll just…" you gestured at the exit, but he stopped you.

"Wait. Actually, I wanted to talk to you. Can you…" he gestured at the empty chair in front of him, and you sat down.

"About the whole Tesseract thing," he started, "I think you should consider sitting this one out."

"What?" you frowned.

"I just…" he sighed, "I think it might be better if you sat this one out."

"Steve, I found the Tesseract in the first place," you said, getting angrier by the second, "I'm not backing down from this."

"You found the fake Tesseract," he corrected, "and lost what might have been the real one."

"I thought you said it wasn't on me."

"It's not, but still."

"I don't get it, a few days ago you were telling me it wasn't my fault and now you're benching me because of it?"

"I just… you're clearly very invested in this-"

"Which is why I deserve to stay on this mission," you cut him off, fighting to keep your voice level.

"Which is why I think you should sit it out," he ignored you, "because you don't need to get yourself hurt for this."

"I'm an Avenger just like you," you snapped, "you might get hurt as well. So might everyone else. I don't get why I'm any different."

"I told you, because you're too emotionally invested," he insisted, his tone rising.

"Oh, you're benching me cause I'm 'emotional'? really? That's your excuse?"

"That's not an excuse, I-"

"No, tell me, Steve, what's your problem with me? Just spit it out, clearly you have one. What have I done to you to make you hate me?" you were yelling now, exasperated at his flawed logic.

"I don't hate you."

"That's all you have to say?" you scoffed. "You know what? If you're letting whatever your problem is with me to get in the way of the mission, maybe you're the emotional one."

The charged atmosphere was interrupted by Natasha's frame showing up in the doorway.

"Hey guys," she started, before looking between the two of you. "Is this a bad time?" she waited a second before shrugging, "Doesn't matter. There are sightings of suspicious activity midtown, we think it can be Hydra. We gotta move, be down in five," she stated, before walking down the hallway, leaving Steve and you alone once more.

"I-" he started.

"Let's go," you said at the same time, before simply turning away to go and suit up. You had a battle to win, no matter what he thought.  

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

"So," Tony started once you were all on the Quinjet, "Here's what we know – Hydra is probably in the possession of the real Tesseract, since we just got word of people seeing a big aircraft over midtown. My guess, they wanted to test the new weapons out before using them on a larger scale," he said, "which is why it would be the best thing to stop them now."

You split up into groups, Tony, Wanda and Sam going after the aircraft, Bucky and Steve go one way on the ground, you and Natasha the other. Thanking every god you knew you weren't paired up with Steve, you and Natasha ran and turned into a large square, starting to point people away from the steady stream of Hydra agents that was coming your way.

You and Natasha were both fighting off the agents together, most of the civilians already cleared from the area, when suddenly, they just… stopped, all in unison.

"Avengers," a voice with a heavy accent boomed through the air, presumably from the aircraft, magnified by speakers, "I know what you're here for," the voice chuckled. "Come and get it."

All at once, the Hydra agents in front of you pulled out something from their bags, or the pockets of their jackets, and it took you a second to realize what it is – exact replicas of the Tesseract. Dozens of them, maybe even hundreds.

You looked over at Natasha, who was just as exasperated as you were. "We gotta break these things," she said, and you nodded in understanding, charging at the men and women with renewed energy.

Because this was your chance to fix what you broke, to make things right. To show Steve you're better than your mistakes.

That was the mantra that was going in your head, as you smashed Tesseract after Tesseract, even as you found nothing but wires, you kept repeating it – fix what you broke.

Slowly but surely, you and Natasha tackled and defeated more and more agents, moving closer towards where they were coming from – the aircraft, that was lowering more and more, sending out more agents, in a wave that seemed never ending.

Expect when you got closer, you noticed that there was a staircase going down from it. A staircase that at the top of stood a small an in old fashioned army clothes, holding, how not, a small, glowing cube in his hand.

Your vision zeroed in on him. You had a target.

Barely stopping to disarm the other agents, you quickly made your way through the crowd of agents surrounding you, until you were right at the bottom of the staircase. You looked up to see the man still standing on top, smiling at the chaos unraveling at his feet.

You decided to take advantage of the fact he hasn't seen you yet, and climbed the staircase from the bottom side, hanging on to creases and bumps, to keep the advantage. When you got to the top, you tried to swing yourself over the rails. You would've fallen down if a hand wouldn't have reached out, catching your arm and throwing you back on the staircase, right side up.

"Ah, the new kid," the man snickered above you, "I've heard about you. Were you really the one they sent here?"

"No one sent me," you hissed as you got up. "Now hand over the stone and it'll be much more pleasant for you."

"So much spite," he laughed, "but alas, I don't think I will, sweetheart."

"Whatever you say," you delivered a poignant kick to his knee, "sweetheart."

You tried to punch him, but this time he was quicker, avoiding your blow and landing one of his own on your shoulder. You shrugged it off and continued to try and pry the stone from his hands. The struggle was drawing attention, and Natasha yelled at you to watch out just in time before a Hydra agent from down there shot at you, only missing narrowly.

You continued to fight the man, who was stronger than he let on, considering he was fending you off with only one hand, but you also had getting shot to worry about, which was in his favor.

At last, you managed to knock the Tesseract out of his hand, and it fell to the ground in a shattering sound. Out of the broken pieces, there were no wires to be seen, only a stone.

Bingo.

You heard Steve shout something at you from far down, but you weren't paying attention, instead diving for the stone, grasping it in your hand, along with some shards of glass that cut you, but you couldn't care less, because this was it.

Fix what you broke.

You concentrated with all your might of the stone, its power almost physically throbbing in your hand, along with the excruciating pain, but you didn't care.

Fix what you broke.

Your breathing became labored, the pain near insufferable when you finally did it – opened a portal. You didn't know where it led, but the important thing is, it wasn't here. You threw the stone away with all the power you had left in you, praying it would reach so far you'd never see it again.

Fix. What. You. Broke.

Just in time, the portal closed, and you sighed gratefully. The pain was starting to take over now, your mind dancing on the edge of consciousness when you heard voices coming towards you. You wanted to tell them you were fine, but you found yourself falling to the ground, registering the pain of the fall before everything went black.

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

When you woke up, your first thought was that the light's too bright. It felt almost like a hangover, but way worse, and

"I didn't even drink anything," you said, before breaking into a dry cough.

In a second, Steve was there by your side with a glass of water, holding it to your mouth. You took some small sips until you calmed down enough to remember that while no, you didn't drink anything, you did wield the power of an infinity stone, which means it's a miracle you're even alive.

So really, you should be thankful all you ended up with is an awful hangover. Of sorts. A magical hangover.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked, breaking you from your reverie, and making you meet his gaze with yours.

"As much as I can be," you replied, your gaze falling to the blanket that was laid on you. "how long was I out?"

"About 18 hours," he said solemnly, "we didn't… we weren't sure if you'd wake up," he admitted, his voice dropping below a whisper by the end.

"Can't get rid of me that easily," you joked. Despite everything Steve put you through, for some reason you couldn't stand to see him this devastated.

"No, don't-" he sighed, "no one wants to get rid of you. Least of all me. Hell, thinking I'd lost you and it was my fault… hurt more than I could imagine."

"It wouldn't have been your fault, if I, you know," you shrugged, "that was my choice. I had to fix what I broke."

"No, you didn't," he insisted, his eyes snapping up to meet yours once more, "because you didn't break anything. None of this was your fault, and yet you fixed it, alone. You risked wielding the power of an infinity stone to keep earth safe, alone. You shouldn't have been alone."

"It worked out just fine. Besides, what difference would it have made, one more injured person?"

"If I was quick enough… I don't believe the stone could've taken both of us down."

"Us?" you smirked, "I didn't know we were an 'us'. But it's fine, I can deal with that, I guess," you shrugged, and Steve chuckled. You couldn't tell if you were imagining it, but it looked like the slightest of blushes was sprinkled on his cheeks.

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

As a part of getting you back to normal, you started training again, moderately at first. But as you regained your strength, your training was almost as intense as it was before. Or maybe, even more intense.

You see, before that, you weren't training with Steve.

Since you didn't really get off to a good start, you'd always train with the others – Nat, Wanda, Sam… other non-super-soldier humans with a very human self-discipline, meaning that you could take breaks and chat in between reps.

Alas, those days were far behind you. I mean, not that far, that's just kind of dramatic, but you get it; you trained with Steve way more often and it was a nightmare.

You didn't know what standards Steve held for his other friends, but if he's like that with everyone then maybe it was better off not being his friend.

"What was that?" Steve asked, his eyes not moving from the timer, which looked comically small in his large hands.

"I said," you repeated between labored breaths and fast push-ups, "if you're like this with all your friends maybe I was better off not being one."

"Who said you are?" he shot back with a smirk, "and… time!"

You collapsed on the training room mattress, letting out a deep breath. "how much was that?"

"98 pushups in one minute," he stated, "not bad."

"Okay, Mr. captain super soldier," you breathed. "You know, maybe I should go back to doing these with Sam. A human being with normal people achievements," you sighed, faux-dreamily.

"I thought you wanted to get better?" Steve chuckled, extending his hand out to help you off the mattress.

"I'll tell him you said that," you smirked and took his hand, letting him help you up. Your touch lingered for the briefest of moments before you let go of his hand.

"Be my guest," Steve shot back, before taking a couple of sparring staffs off the wall, handing you one. An unusual technique in battle, but you found that practicing them with Steve provided a decent challenge to you both, since you were better with it than he was.

With both of you getting into a fighting stance, you started the match by dashing forward, trying to land one on his shoulder, but he quickly spun to the side, accompanied by a move of his staff that, fortunately for you, was a bit poorly aimed, thus only hit you in the arm.

You continued this back and forth for the next few minutes, one graceful move answered by a steady block from the other side, almost like a delicate dance. After a while, you felt yourself getting a little tired, and knew if you didn't end it now, he'd win.

And well, you just can't give him that kind of satisfaction.

You quickly planted your staff on the ground, using the momentum to jump up and wrap your legs around his neck, using your weight to push him down onto the mattress. You'll have to thank Natasha for that move.

His staff fell from his hand as he hit the floor, and you used your advantage to pin his arms above his head, making sure to lean enough of your weight on his torso so he couldn't move. You were both panting from the exertion of the fight, and you could feel a bead of sweat traveling down your back.  

He smirked up at you. "Did Nat teach you that one?"

"Maybe," you raised your eyebrow in amusement. "But I executed it to perfection."

"You sure?" he asked, and before you could answer he broke free from your grasp, flipping the both of you so your torso was pinned below him, catching your arms the same way you did to him moments ago.

Breathing heavily, your tongue darted out to wet your lips. "Well, maybe not perfection," you murmured, "but I'd say I did pretty well. You're in nice shape for a hundred-year-old," you slowly grinned up at him.

"Just nice?" he mock pouted, not moving from his position above you.

"Yeah," you smirked, "from what I've seen."

"Well, maybe you've seen nothing yet," he suggested with a quirk of his eyebrow, his head lowering even closer to yours.

"Maybe," you said softly, standing your ground. His eyes were boring into yours, you could hear the shallow sound of his breath, feel it even.

Closing the distance between you was almost more impulse than an actual aware decision. Your lips met his soft ones, his momentum pushing you back against the mattress, your head hitting it with a soft thud you paid no mind to. One of his hands left yours, coming to cup your cheek as his tongue hesitantly entered your mouth, continuing eagerly when you let out a hum of approval, one of your hand sneaking around his neck and tangling in the hair on the nape of his neck, pulling slightly.

When you finally parted, your breaths were once again labored, but for an entirely different reason now.

"Okay, maybe you are in good shape," you rasped, shrugging as well as you could.

He chuckled before his eyes met yours. "You don't hate me," he stated incredulously.

"I already told you I didn't. I take it back, maybe old age is getting to you," you giggled.

He groaned lightly, making your laughter grow stronger.

Okay, so Steve Rogers wasn't the worst. Final verdict.

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

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#chris evans x reader #steve rogers x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #Steve Rogers x Female Reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers angst

[professorspork]

superhell fic prompt: JAUNE RUNS INTO PYRRHA

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5]

It doesn’t occur to that she’s allowed to talk to them until Torchwick reveals himself to Neo. And even then, well-- Roman Torchwick isn’t exactly a shining paragon when it comes to setting a good example of what’s allowed.

But the idea refuses to stop hounding her footsteps, once it’s come. Once she’s seen it’s possible, without consequences. Still, she waits, and keeps her distance. There’s no sunset, here on the island, no night, but there are shady places beneath the towering roots of the Tree; eventually, they all bed down, and Jaune-- as she’d known he would-- volunteers to take first watch. It’s a heartening display: Yang and Blake twined together like ivy on a wrought iron gate, but each clinging to the hands of their teammates, chained together by grasping fingers. Otters in a stream, unwilling to be separated.

She doesn’t know why she’s surprised to hear her own voice when she approaches.

...I know this can be frustrating, and it can feel like so much effort to progress such a small amount, but I want you to know that I'm proud of you. I've never met someone so determined to better themselves...

“You’ll drain your battery,” she cautions, reaching out with her mind to press the off button on his scroll. His head whips up, expression aghast, and she smiles at him softly. “I’d have thought you’d have it memorized by now anyhow; you haven’t seemed to need it in some time.”

She expects disbelief, perhaps, or shock. Joy would have been nice, but she’d have understood anger. So she’s surprised and---bizarrely proud, actually-- when instead his eyes narrow in suspicion and the first thing he says is, “Your Semblance works.”

“Well, yes.”

“Why does your Semblance work?”

“Because I’m where I’m supposed to be. A soul knows when it’s in the right place. Or the wrong one, as the case may be.”

“Or I’m dreaming.”

“Or you’re dreaming,” she agrees, keeping her voice mild, but feeling it like a punch to the stomach when his shoulders relax at the idea. Does he... not want her here? Goodness, but she’s out of practice. She’d forgotten it was like this; how talking to him had been both the easiest and the hardest thing in the world. “Would you-- prefer that? If I weren’t really here?”

“The real Pyrrha would know better than to ask me that.”

Despite herself, she laughs. “Oh, I wish that were true. I asked myself that every day. Every class, every glance, every study session on the roof. I’m afraid I was never as confident as I should have been.” It’s an embarrassing admission, but an effective one; the walled-up caution behind his eyes dissipates... only for tears to well up in its stead.

“Are you-- can I touch you?”

“I hope so.” (She’d left Torchwick and Neo behind before they’d gotten that far, for obvious reasons.)

“I--” He scrambles to his feet and crosses the distance between them, enveloping her in a crushing hug. It doesn’t feel like she remembers, but then, that’s no surprise-- he’s taller than he used to be, and her body isn’t exactly a body, per se. She’s grateful, even so. Happy just to have the chance to hold him up. She keeps quiet at first, letting him get it all out as he sobs incoherent apologies into her shoulder--

(IloveyouImissyouIloveyouImissyouI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry)

--and contents herself with playing with the short hair at the nape of his neck. Eventually, he calms.

“I like the haircut,” she says, when he pulls away. “It’s handsome. You look so grown up.”

“You look so young,” he croaks in response, and-- she supposes she must, to his eyes. It’s strange to think that she’s the same age as Ruby now; that they’ve kept going on without her, and they’ll continue to do so, once she’s led them out. “Are you--? Have you--?” He wipes at his eyes, laughing at himself a little. “I don’t know what to say. I don’t know where to start. I just-- I can't believe you're here with me.”

“I'm always with you,” she assures him, unable to suppress the urge to thumb away a tear he’s missed. She keeps her hand there, at his cheek, as she she speaks: “Even when you can’t sense me, I... oh, Jaune. I’m so proud of you. You’ve come so far.”

He sighs and steps out of the circle of her arms, hanging his head to stare at Crocea Mors where it rests in its sheath. You’d never know it to be broken, just by looking. The scabbard hides the damage-- giving him the appearance of being armed and ready though all he carries is a shattered hilt. “Yeah, maybe. I-- I thought I had, but...” He swallows, face filled with shame.

She starts to reach for him again, unwilling to waste even a moment of their time not touching him, but forces herself to relax and drop her hands to her sides. It has to be his choice, doesn’t it? “Tell me. You can tell me anything; you know that.”

His voice falters terribly when he finally speaks: 

“I mean, I feel like you already know. For the longest time, I wanted to be this... I dunno. This warrior, or whatever. And it never fit, no matter what I did, or how hard I worked, and I just-- I resented it so much. Being...” He shakes his head. “I just felt useless. But when I unlocked my Semblance, I had to let that go. And it was hard at first, it took time, but for a second there it finally started to feel like... like I knew my place. Where I belonged; what everyone needed from me. I was good at it. But then Penny needed--” He chokes on a sob, and has to stop and take several deep breaths before he can continue. “Nothing’s changed. I’m still useless. The idiot stuck on the wrong side of the glass, out of his league and forced to watch because someone else has to be the Maiden now and there’s nothing he can do about it. Only this time it’s worse, because this time I actually-- I--”

Unable to hold herself back anymore, she reaches for his hands; he squeezes her fingers tight, like a lifeline. “I understand,” she soothes, voice heavy like a vow. “Did you think I wouldn’t? I don’t think I have to remind you that I’m the only other person who knows what that feels like. To have been the one who killed her.”

He lets out an awful, cynical noise; a parody of a laugh. “Depends on who you ask,” he says in explanation, looking askance towards Ruby. Pyrrha sadly follows his gaze. Ruby’s shifted in her sleep, curled under her cape to be as small as possible with her head nestled in the crooks of Yang’s bent knees. Her arms are wrapped around Yang’s shins in a death grip, as though she fears her sister might fly away at any moment. Pyrrha’s heart aches for her; for the responsibility she carries. Weight Pyrrha could have helped shoulder... if only she’d been a little faster, a little more clever.

She shakes off the feeling; now’s not the time for regret. “But things have changed,” she says, bringing Jaune’s hands up to her mouth and kissing the knuckles. It will be a long time, she knows, before he believes there isn’t blood on them; maybe this small act can help. And if it doesn’t... she has other options. Maybe even a little levity, for once. “You’re not useless. You’re amazing. You’re a licensed Huntsman now; you’re accomplishing things you’d only dreamed of. All the mothers of Mantle adore you. You even got to go on a date with Weiss!”

He boggles at her, wrenching his hands away. “What?! That wasn’t a date, we were just hanging out with Oscar, we--” His jaw falls open, suddenly, and his eyes narrow once more. “Wait a minute. Are you teasing me?”

She grins, sheepish and caught. “I figured it was now or never to give it a go; I didn’t want to waste my last chance to try it. Nora always said it would be good for me.”

“To make fun of me?” he squawks, indignant.

She laughs. “To remind myself it’s okay to be a novice sometimes; that there are things I won’t instantly be good at.” She bites her lip, unable to stop her grin. “...And also to make fun of you, yes.”

He surges forward, then-- wrapping a hand around the back of her neck and pulling her closer, pressing a fierce, grateful kiss to her forehead. Then he does it again; then once more, at the bridge of her nose. And then a final time, against her lips. Quick; intense. Filled with meaning.

She’s got not breath in her, and still she’s breathless.

“I miss you so much,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut and resting his forehead against hers. His fingers thread themselves into the hair at the back of her skull, tangled into the base of her ponytail. “So much. I think about you all the time. Every day. Wondering how different things would be, if only...”

“I know,” she says, because she does. There’s more that she should say, probably-- that it’s good that he’s started to move on; that none of them can hold onto her forever. But she can’t quite bring herself to voice the words.

“It’s not fair,” he mutters, then sighs at the sound of it. “I mean, none of it is fair, but-- I feel like a jerk, I guess. That I’m the one who gets to see you, of all of us.”

“You’ll tell them I love them, won’t you? Ren and Nora. They...” They’re doing things she never did, is the thing. Maturing in ways she’ll never have the chance to. Learning that responsibility doesn’t mean putting it all on your own shoulders; that love doesn’t mean giving all of yourself away. It’s overwhelming, how proud she is of them for that. “They were on the right path, in Atlas. Don’t let them convince themselves otherwise.”

He nods, the movement of it levering her own head in shared agreement. “Anything else? Anyone else you’d like me to...?”

So many; too many. But one rises above the rest. “Tell my mother to stop leaving flowers,” she murmurs, wishing she had more to offer than that. “Tell her they belong in the garden; that I like to watch them grow. That’s-- the way it should be.”

“Okay,” he says, and relief rushes through her. “Okay. I will.”

Slowly, they both become aware once more of the gaggle of Huntresses sleeping just a few yards off. Pyrrha could leave dozens of messages with Jaune, if she wanted, but the people she most needs to speak to are right here, within arm’s reach. They need her guidance; it’s selfish not to provide it. She’s taken so long already. And yet...

Jaune beats her to voicing the thought: “I know we should probably wake them, but-- can it be just the two of us, for just a little longer? Please?”

She smiles, and brings a hand up to caress his cheek. “I thought you’d never ask.”

#Anonymous #arkos #jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #rwby #fic what i wrote

[urimaginespimp]

Happiness (This Love pt 7)

Bucky x Reader (elemental witch)

Set during TFATWS (mostly ep 3)

Note: Angsty confrontation ahead, and some references to Mr. Perfectly Fine because its a bop.

previous part

——–

Bucky and Sam were trying to hide it, but they were fascinated with the amount of collectable expensive cars surrounding them, which Zemo claimed to be his.

“I spent years hunting people HYDRA recruited to recreate the serum. Because once it’s out there, someone can recreate an army of people… like the Avengers.” He stated, peeking out from the car where he was slouched down taking stuff, he needs for a trip.

“I ended the Winter Soldier program once before. I have no intention to leave my work unfinished. To do this, we’ll have to scale a ladder of lowlifes.”

“Well, join a party. We’ve already started.”

“First stop is a woman named Selby.” Zemo stated, now walking out with his stuff, before pausing to face the two men’s way again.

“But before that, it would be way safer for us if you get one of your old teammates with us. Preferably the witch.” He explained.

“We haven’t been able to reach Wanda for some time now.” Sam admitted.

“That’s unfortunate to hear, but I meant the one James was so enamored with.” Zemo clarified nonchalantly.

Sam’s lips twitched, trying not to crack a smile as Bucky glared at Zemo.

“We haven’t been in contact with her too.” Bucky answered in a low voice. He was getting irritated at the fact that Zemo even suggested to bring you into this.

“Actually, I have.” Sam spoke up. “But new Asgard is not a drive away.”

“That won’t be a problem.” Zemo grinned as he led them out to his private jet.

The entire way over to New Asgard, Bucky was quiet. He hadn’t told anyone, even his therapist, but the look in your eyes when he outright rejected you back in Tony’s Lake house was the last thing he sees every night before he falls asleep.  The same set of eyes that would’ve loved him for a lifetime.

Would you even be glad to see him? He couldn’t help but feel anxious.

——–

It was already dawn when they arrived at New Asgard. Val greeted them having received a message from Sam as well after Y/N was unresponsive.

“Well, you, I expected.” she nodded at Sam. “Can’t say I’m pleased to see you, Mr. Change of Heart.” She looked at Bucky as if assessing him fully and Sam snorted at what she just called him. “And you I’m unsure of because I’ve never seen you before.” She nodded at Zemo.

“Val, it’s really great to see you, and holy smokes, Asgard looks rich as hell.” Sam was temporarily sidetracked. From what he last heard, New Asgard was a fishing port.

“This isn’t even half of how the old Asgard really was, but this is all actually because of Y/N’s effort.” She answered proudly.

“Where is she, anyway?” Sam asked. Bucky and Zemo simply assumed you were still sleeping given the time. But the light-almost silent steps on the pavement approaching behind them made all three men look behind.

Bucky felt his throat drying up when he saw that it was your form walking towards them. Here you were, lips red, hair even longer, in a small black strap dress, holding your heels on one hand, as you walked home. Your attention was set on your feet, as if they were the most fascinating thing you’ve seen, as they walk bare along the pavement. And he couldn’t help but note that there was a strong energy around you.

“Dude, stop staring. You’re gonna embarrass yourself.” Sam whispered at his side.

His low voice caught your attention, making your head snap to finally look up and slowdown from walking.

Sam was already smiling at you, undoubtedly glad to finally see you again, and you returned the grin. Then beside him, stood the man you’ve been trying to get over all these months.

His hair was shorter, reminding you of the James you’ve met when testing the time portal. Only difference is that while James was eager to talk and see you, this one in front of you wasn’t even looking up.

Looking at the third man with them, you stopped in your tracks.

“Sam, what the hell is this man doing out of prison, and on Asgardian property?” That was the first thing to come out of your mouth. Sam lightly hit Bucky on the arm to explain.

“We need him to help us find this group of super soldiers.” Bucky answered, finally looking up to meet your eyes. Turning your attention to him, he was surprised you didn’t even offer a small smile.

“Wakanda will get word of this, Barnes.” you told him, not breaking eye contact. You were mad. Wakanda owed him nothing yet they took him in and helped him. Now he was saying they not only broke their king’s killer out of prison, but is also working with him.

Behind the three men facing you, Val was standing with her arms crossed on her chest, close to losing it. She mouthed Barnes at you.

You sighed and walked up to Sam, exchanging a hug, a silent conversation of how much you’ve missed each other. Breaking away from him, you started walking past them, ready to get it over with and head to your house.

“What do you want? As you can see, I just got back and I’m in need of rest.” you asked, still walking.

“Look, you can go back to your parties right after, but we really need you for this. Please.” Bucky spoke up once again. Of course, he’d think you were merely partying your way through nights. But you were just too tired, and frankly, you didn’t feel the need to prove anything to him.

Turning to face them again, you were ready to turn them down but Sam was looking at you with the same pleading expression. How could you turn down someone who’s been nothing but nice to you? And you do feel guilty for not checking up on him as frequently as before.

Sighing, you faced Val and gave her a small nod, indicating to her that you were going. She raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“Fine. Just let me get ready.” heading into your home, you took a deep breath. You thought seeing him again would just make you feel like the pathetic, desperate woman you once were, but this time you couldn’t shake the feeling of hostility creeping up your chest every time you met his eyes.

So maybe you do kind of hate him now.

——–

You were across Zemo, catching up on the sleep you’ve missed on his private jet.

Bucky was seated just across from your left, and he couldn’t help but look at your sleeping form. You looked at peace, and it reminded him of the nights you both had in Wakanda where he’d ask you to stay with him after a nightmare, and the rare times when you’d fall back asleep first.

Then something he picked up from the conversation earlier started to cloud his thoughts. You had kept calling him Barnes. He had never heard you call him that until earlier. It sounded so… strange coming from you. It almost made him hate his own last name.

“You know, I’ve always found her of impeccable beauty.” Zemo spoke in a quiet voice to not disrupt your sleep. Bucky clenched his fist while Sam raised a brow at him. “Now, I never said I’m attracted to her. My heart is forever for my family, but I’m not blind.” he clarified, and noted the former winter soldier’s reaction.

“James, judging from your reactions every time I talk about her, I’m guessing you’re very fond of her.” He took a sip of his drink, waiting for a response – one Sam gladly provided.

“Oh yeah, if kissing her, then pushing her away and leaving her after a funeral is what you’d consider being very found, then by all means, Bucky’s crazy for her.” Sam glared at Bucky, making him uncomfortably shift in his seat.

“Now why don’t you tell us about where we’re going?” Sam shifted the conversation.

“I’m sorry. I was just fascinated by this…” He opened a book on his lap. “I don’t know what to call it, but I see Y/N’s name in here, and oh this part seems important… who is Nakajima?” and before Sam knew it, Bucky was up on his seat, with his metal arm on Zemo’s throat.

The act made you stir on your sleep, and sure enough, your eyes fluttered open, only to see Bucky threatening Zemo.

“If you touch that again, I’ll kill you.” He said in a low voice.

“What the hell is happening?” you broke the silence, making everyone turn to you. Bucky finally let him go, and returned to his seat, not looking at you. He felt almost ashamed that you had to see him act that way. He could only hope you hadn’t heard Zemo say your name was on that notebook.

“I understand that list of names. People you’ve wronged as the Winter Soldier.” Zemo stated, but then unexpectedly turned his attention to you. “I just can’t seem to understand why her-”

“Don’t push it.” Bucky cut him off.

“Miss Y/N. If you don’t mind me asking. How did the avengers manage to bring everyone back? We hardly get enough news in prison.” Zemo asked you with genuine interest.

“The simplest answer is through a time machine.”  you nodded at him.

“Well that I know, but how did you know it would work?”

“We had volunteers to test it out. As a matter of fact, I was one.” Sam and Bucky were now looking at you in interest. They didn’t know about this part. “The first one was Clint, and he only had a few minutes to a timeline of his choosing. When that was successful, it was my turn to go and stay a little longer to make sure we wouldn’t experience any complications if we do so.”

“Where did you go?” Bucky found himself asking, and you turned your attention to him.

“I…” you couldn’t tell them you actually went to his time as a soldier in the camp. “I don’t want to talk about it.” you shut the conversation down and excused yourself to the restroom, leaving them confused.

Opening the door slowly to get out, you paused when you overhear Bucky saying something. “I uh… I went on a date for the first time.” he told in a low voice. You decided to remain behind the slightly ajar door. You hated how it made you feel a little pang in your chest.

He was getting his life back out there while you’ve only managed to only push the hurt deep down instead of addressing and getting rid of them. Maybe once you get back home, you’d give in to Val’s pestering about online dating.

“And?” You heard Sam asked in deadpan tone. It was only followed by silence.

“How about Miss Y/N? You would’ve been perfect together.” Zemo commented.

“Shut Up.” You heard him retort.

“No, let him speak. I mean he has no idea about what happened between you, but I kinda want to hear this.” Sam interjected.

“It’s just that judging by the wandering looks you’re failing miserably to hide, and her being so… uncaring towards you, I could only assume you did something that cost whatever bond you had.” Zemo carried on.

You couldn’t listen to them any longer. You knew what he was going to say next – that he just didn’t feel the same. So you slowly shut the door close again and decided to splash a little bit of water on your face.

When you got back, they were now in entirely different conversation. “Do we want to live in a world full of people like the Red Skull?” you heard Zemo ask, followed by a quick pause. “That is why we’re going to Madripoor.”

“What’s up with Madripoor? You guys talk about it like it’s skull island.” Sam asked confused.

“It’s an island nation in the Indian archipelago. It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s.” Bucky answered him.

“It’s kept it’s lawless ways, but we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves.” Zemo explained further before looking at Bucky. “James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone.”

You could see he was dreading having to do so. And normally you would’ve already assured him that everything was going to be fine, but this time you opted to be silent and look out the window, missing how he and Sam also turned to your attention, surprised of your seemingly lack of concern.

His heart dropped.

——–

You came in Madripoor acting as the Smiling Tiger’s most trusted henchwoman. When he had to act as the Winter Soldier and follow Zemo’s orders to attack, you had to look away, and only hope that he was fine.

You were now in Sharon’s place after she unexpectedly saved your asses while on the run.

“Here. You can use my room to get ready. There’s hot water in the shower and feel free to use anything on my vanity dresser.” She handed you a black jumpsuit similar to what she had on, only that this one didn’t have sleeves like hers.

Taking it from her, you said thank you and turned to where she pointed her room is.

“I suggest going red on the lips.” She added just before you were about to close the door.

“You’ve read my mind, Sharon.” You smirked.

——–

Sam just promised Sharon he was going to try to get her name cleared, when you stepped out of her room and into where they were, now all ready for the auction party.

“You look beautiful, Miss Y/N.” Zemo raised his glass to you.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Why, thank you punk. Been loving the coat you got on.” Everybody looked great. Bucky was looking dignified in a well pressed suit, and it was taking everything in you to not ogle.

Bucky was gripping the couch hard. How could you converse with Zemo so freely, when you haven’t even uttered a word to him save for a few quick glances. But hew knew Zemo was far from wrong. You were breathtaking.

“Val’s told me you’ve been going out every night. You dance often?” Sam asked you.

Taking your position next to Zemo, you smiled and decided to tell them what you’ve been working on.

“Well since I’ve secured New Asgard’s future already, I’ve devoted my nights to going about the nightlife nearby. Yeah, I dance every now and then, but that’s only when I know the rest of the night will be free of any trouble.”

“What do you mean by trouble?” Bucky couldn’t help but ask.

“Any trouble, really; robberies, killings, but the most common ones are assault. So, I go out dressed just like the others to blend in, but I rarely take part in the partying.” you explained to him.  Sam gave you a smile. He was proud of you.

“Well for the rest of tonight at least, you’ve got nothing to worry about. Go dance.” Sharon smiled at you before getting up to start welcoming guests. “Lay low, blend in, enjoy the party.”

——–

The party was in full swing. You had no idea where the others have gone among the swarm of intoxicated dancing bodies in the room.

“May I get you a drink?” a man asked, appearing in front of you. He was tall, had pretty green eyes, dirty blonde hair, and a charming smile.

“You may… if I get your name first.” You smirked, which he returned.

“I’m James.”

“You’ve got be shitting me.” you found yourself whispering.

“I’m sorry?”

“Any other name I can call you, handsome?” you reached over to act like you were fixing his collar.

“How about Jay?” he smiled at you.

“Jay works just fine.” smirking, you let him lead you to the bar.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky saw the whole ordeal. He couldn’t make sense of the feelings that kept creeping up on him, but all he knows for now is that he didn’t like what he saw one bit. And with all the smirks that’s graced your lips, he begins to realize he hadn’t seen your usual winning smile.

“Don’t break your teeth with all that clenching, Buck.” Sam was now standing beside him. “Come on, even Zemo’s dancing. What’s gotten that robot brain of yours all mad?” he pat Bucky’s shoulder.

When he was unresponsive, Sam followed the direction where he was glaring at. And sure enough, it was where you and the guy that approached you were standing close to each other, enjoying a drink and conversing.

“Okay, let me ask you something.” Sam started. “Do you, or do you not have feelings for her?”

It took him a while to answer. “I don’t know.” He finally muttered, still glaring your way. “I’m robot brain, remember?”

“Okay, fair enough… But man, you know she would’ve understood if you told her that you want to figure your feelings out first. You didn’t have to be all so casually cruel to her like that. Rhodey said she spent the 5 years during the blip mourning and waiting for you.”

The last part of what Sam just said caught Bucky’s attention.

“What did you just say?” He was caught off guard.

But before Sam could repeat himself, Sharon came with the information they need.

——-

Arriving in Riga Latvia, you got a few cuts and bruises from the fight that ensued while you joined Sharon in keeping an eye out as the guys talked to Nagel. The four of you were now walking to Zemo’s place when you spotted the first bead. You knew whom it belongs to. Glancing Bucky’s way, he was already looking at you. He must have seen it too.

“We’re gonna go on a walk.” He spoke to Sam and Zemo and nodded at you.

“You guys good?” Sam asked in concern.

“Yeah, we’ll see you guys in a bit.” You assured him. Turning away to look for other vibranium beads, it didn’t take long for Bucky to be beside you.

“It was just a matter of time, Barnes.” you said as he picked up another one placed by the corner.

Turning into an empty alley, Bucky called out into the open while holding the bead in between in thumb and index finger. “You dropped something.”

And you felt a presence behind you. Turning around, you smiled at an old friend.

“I’m here for Zemo.”

——–

“He’s a means to an end.” Bucky explained. And you remained by the corner as they conversed.

“Eight hours, White Wolf. Then we come for him.” Ayo stated. Turning to you, she offered a friendly smile. “The princess misses you. She said you’re in need of some…” She glanced Bucky’s way “…comforting.”

“You’ll be expecting a visit from me soon. I’m bringing you and Okoye some Starbucks.” you promised. You’ve been in touch with Shuri through chats, and she knows all about what happened between you and Bucky.

When Ayo left to go back with the other Dora Milaje, it was only you and Bucky left in the Alley.

“Y/N we need to talk.” he said before you could even turn to head back to where Sam and Zemo were.

“Barnes.”

“Would you stop calling me that?” you could see he was irritated.

“What?”

“Quit calling me Barnes. You never called me that. It was always Bucky.” He snapped at you. “Call me Bucky.”

You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself. “I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?” you could hear the frustration in his voice.

“Like you’ve said that day. We can’t start fresh when we’re constantly reminded of something we’re trying to forget. Calling you that would just bring about memories and feelings I’m trying to get rid of.” you answered honestly, looking him in the eye.

Hurt flashed on his eyes from what you’ve just said, but he couldn’t blame you. “Fine. Then call me James.”

You gave him a pained smile. “That won’t do.”

“Why?”

“I actually met James.” you finally told him. Looking at his reaction, one could tell he wasn’t expecting that.

“When I said back in the plane that I volunteered to be the second test subject for the portal, Nat and Steve got me in an old war nurse’s uniform underneath the suit and sent me back to a time where you were just rescued by Steve… and you actually got me to talk to you.” This was the first time you were talking about it. You didn’t even tell Steve what happened on your time there. All he knew was that you met and spent time with Bucky.

“They suggested it because they knew how much I was hurting from losing you. And I came there with the intention to leave with closure. But I ended up promising James I was gonna wait for you.” you tried to blink the tears that was threatening to spill away.

“I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say. He hadn’t even thought about what you had to go through after losing so many people when the blip happened. It was merely a few seconds for him.

“I don’t need your fake niceties. I pulled your body into mine every goddamn night when you had nightmares. I gave you almost two years of my time just helping you get back on your feet. I loved you, and I didn’t expect anything in return. I just wanted to let you know.” You harshly wiped a tear that escaped.

“But then you just had to fucking kiss me and for once, make me think we could be something…” you chuckled bitterly. Bucky remained quiet, just listening to you. “… only to tell me right after it was a fucking mistake and that you want to start fresh alone. How do you think that made me feel?”

“Y/N I’m sorry. Please let me make it up to you.” He started to walk towards you, and stopped when he was only one to two steps away.

“I fucking hate you, Barnes.” You found yourself saying unexpectedly, wounding him further inside. But then you shook your head. “No, I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry, I can’t think straight through all of my fury.”

“It’s okay. I wouldn’t blame you if you do.”

You took a deep breath, realization hitting you. “You know what, I don’t think I could make this all go away by making you a villain. I’m still hurting, yes. But I guess it’s the price I pay for being delusional for what, seven years? I could’ve stopped at one. And now I’m just trying to face reinvention.”

“I didn’t realize -” you cut him off for once.

“I heard you went out on a date for the first time. I’m proud of you.” You genuinely smiled at him. “And I realized that I want to seek happiness too.” There was a glint of relief in your eyes, maybe from finally letting it all out.

For the first time since seeing each other again, Bucky saw the old you come into the picture – soft, caring eyes, and an infectious smile with a hint of mischief behind them.

And for the very first time, the feelings that kept creeping inside him every time you were around had made themselves known.

So imagine his horror when he heard the next thing you said paired with a gentle smile.

“I’m letting you go, Bucky.”

He was in deep trouble.

——–

tags: @eternalharry @iheartsebandchris @lizzarooni @the-ayo-lit @tanyaherondale @knowyourworth-sellyoursoul @eliwinchester-barnes

#bucky barnes #bucky #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes masterlist #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #bucky fic recs #bucky fluff #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #the falcon and the winter soldier #sharon carter #zemo #avengers #avengers au #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fic

[starryeyedweeb]

Valentine’s Day with Haikyuu

*DISCLAIMER*: As I’m over eighteen, I write all underaged characters aged up to eighteen or older.

Contains: Copious amounts of sickly-sweet fluff, gender neutral reader

Characters Included: Sugawara Koushi, Kageyama Tobio, Tsukishima Kei, Tetsurou Kuroo

A Valentine’s Day with...

Sugawara Koushi

For Valentine’s Day, Sugawara wants to go beyond buying you the average box of chocolates.

He wants to make you a box of chocolates, and to make it even better, he wants to include you in on the activity.

And of course, he does it in the most adorable way possible, buying heart-shaped molds, Valentine’s sprinkles, edible glitter...

When you arrive for the date, he’s waiting behind the kitchen counter for you, wearing a frilly pink apron over his clothes

“What do you have on?” you laugh, approaching the workstation.

“Do you like it?” He pulls a duplicate out and slips it around your neck. “I got you one, too.”

“Oh my god, you’re too cute!”

“I’m cuter when I’m not hungry,” he replies, tapping your nose. “Let’s get started.”

You volunteer for the task of melting the chocolate to be poured into the molds solely for the purpose of sneaking a taste

Or three

Meanwhile Sugawara is behind you, readying the decorating supplies

“I’m done here,” he announces a few minutes later. “How are you doing? Do you need any help?”

“I think I’ve got it covered here! It’s almost ready to be poured.” you answer, turning around to grab the molds

But Sugawara bursts into laughter when he catches sight of your face

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Just look at yourself.” He opens his phone camera and you discover your mouth completely slathered in chocolate. “You’ve been sneaking tastes, haven’t you?”

“Oh, this is embarrassing.” You go to wipe your mouth, but Sugawara catches your wrist.

“No, I’ll get it.”

And he leans in and gives you a long, wet kiss that leaves your head spinning.

“There. All cleaned up.”

Once the chocolate is in the molds and the two of you are waiting for it to set up, you share the task of licking up the chocolate left in the bowl

And when Sugawara gets some smeared across his cheek, it’s your opportunity to return his favor

Which turns into a long makeout session on the kitchen counter, the two of you only coming back to reality when you accidentally knock the (thankfully sealed) container of sprinkles onto the floor

“Um,” you pull back and clear your throat, Sugawara’s face still only centimeters away from yours, “do you think the chocolates are ready to be decorated now?”

Upon returning to your task and finding the chocolate set, the two of you station yourselves side-by-side, decorating the little candies with each other’s preferences in mind

“Shall we taste-test?” Koushi suggests once the two of you finish, and you each pop a chocolate into the other’s mouth

“How does it taste?” you ask, watching his face for his reaction.

“It’s sweet, just like you.” He breaks into an almost childish grin.

“You’re so cheesy.” You reach out and squeeze his chin. “I love it.”

He swoops you in for another tender kiss. “I love you, too.”

Kageyama Tobio

You had known for a while that a traditional Valentine’s Day with Kageyama was off the table due to the fact that he had a game scheduled on that day for weeks

But he did his part in trying to make sure you were together for the holiday by getting you tickets to see the match

To you, that was a great way to spend Valentine’s- you absolutely loved the pride you felt in people knowing that the extremely talented Kageyama was yours.

Even if his teammates did tease him a little bit every time you were in their presence

He made time to see you before the game started, and you were able to give him your traditional miniature pep talk

Which he always swore he didn’t need, but he never failed to play better when he’d had one

“Well, good luck,” you say just before he goes to meet his team, wrapping him in a hug. “Don’t let me distract you too much.”

“I don’t get distracted, dummy,” he mutters back, but ruffles your hair and sends you an assured smile as he strides towards the gym entrance

You find your seat, which is right in front of the cheer squad, who welcomes you enthusiastically

And as Kageyama takes the court, he catches your eye and raises a hand in a small wave

You blow him a kiss in reply, mouthing “Good luck!”

The match begins, and it becomes clear early on that you weren’t going to have the intended experience of watching your boyfriend play in a fun match, for it turns out to be quite a struggle

Your nails are soon chewed to the quick and your voice is hoarse from shouting encouragements

But when Tobio glances at you during every time-out, you do your best to look completely assured, and send him big smiles

The match eventually reaches the point of a deuce on the third set, and you’re leaned over your legs, looking at the court through your fingers, and someone on the cheer squad is patting your back comfortingly

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous about this,” you admit, laughing at yourself. “It’s just a game. But I want Kags to be happy.”

Kageyama comes to serve at match point, and you can’t help but to stand from your seat in anticipation

And when he scores the winning point with a service ace, you scream in delight

As the team celebrates on the court and the cheer squad celebrates behind you, you sprint out of the stands and burst through the gym entrance

Kageyama spots you immediately and dashes towards you

You launch yourself into his embrace, and he hugs you so tightly that your feet dangle off the ground

“I’m so proud of you,” you cry, tears spilling from your eyes

“I’m sweaty,” he murmurs against your shoulder, his voice almost drowned out by the happy commotion still echoing throughout the court

“I don’t care,” you mutter back, holding him even tighter.

When the team goes for their celebratory dinner, they allow you to come along

You sit across from Tobio, watching his bright expression as his teammates excitedly recap the events of the game

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” he eventually asks, his mouth full.

“Nothing,” you reply, chuckling. “I just love seeing you so happy.”

“Does it bother you that we couldn’t do something different for Valentine’s Day?”

“Not at all. This was perfect. I’m so happy, I feel like I was on the court with you!”

“Well, I’m not a completely terrible boyfriend. I did do something.”

“What do you mean?”

Kageyama motions for you to look behind yourself, where you spot the waiter holding a tray with a miniature cake, the words “Happy Valentine’s Day, y/n” written on the plate in icing, a candle lit on top

You gasp in delight as the plate is placed in front of you, and you take a moment to make a wish before blowing out the candle

You share the cake with Kageyama whilst half of the team makes fun of him for the romantic gesture and the other half complains because they’re not getting any cake

His cheeks turn pink in response, but from the way his lips twitch, you can tell he’s fighting a smile

“So, what did you wish for?” he asks after offering you the last bite.

“That I get to be there every time you win.”

Tsukishima Kei

Tsukishima was honestly not looking forward to Valentine’s Day

He didn’t really have any idea of what to do that wasn’t the same old stuff, but was coming up empty on any alternate ideas

So it came as a relief to him when you suggested going to see the new museum exhibit that had come to town

The bonus was that it was reminiscent of your first date, which had been a visit to the local natural history museum

Which was when you learned that, as prickly as Tsukishima was, he was also a massive dork

On the fourteenth, the two of you meet on the steps of the museum, looking like an absolute dark academia dream together

The exhibit you bought tickets to was a special Valentine’s Day event, which featured pieces all centered around love, dating from the prehistoric period to modern art

The two of you follow each other around and take those artsy “Look, I’m looking at art,” photos of each other, but as museum-goers, the two of you like to watch the other people just as much as the artwork

In most of the rooms, you sit on the bench that’s placed in the center, observing the people that come in and predicting which piece will be their favorite

And then you guess which piece is each other’s favorite

You keep a tally of how many you both got right, with the agreement that the loser would have to buy snacks afterward 

But the two of you know each other so well that you end up perfectly tied

The last room of the exhibit is a digital project, where couples step into a booth and take a photo together to be displayed in a massive collage on the screens lining the walls

“Come on, Kei, please?” You tug on his arm. “Let’s do it.”

“I won’t do any stupid poses,” he warns.

“Do you really think I would make you do that?” You pull aside the curtains and wave him into the booth. “Just do something that feels natural.”

After Tsukishima sits down on the bench and you close the curtain, he stretches out a long arm and presses the button for the photo to be taken.

“Wait, Kei, I’m not ready!” You shriek as the three-second countdown begins, and he responds by pulling you down onto his lap

Your photo turns out completely adorable, with your laughing expression obscuring half his face, only his smiling eyes showing over the top of your head, and enough of your bodies visible to show his arms wrapped tightly around you, your hands laying over his

To your delight, the booth then prints out two copies of the photo so that you could each take one home

You exit the booth and go to find your photo on the wall, discovering a girl standing in front of where it had shown up

She turns when you approach, realizing that you’re the couple in the photo, and makes a pouting expression.

“You two are so cute.”

When you and Kei leave the exhibit, you stop for coffee in the museum’s cafe, discussing your favorite pieces of the night

“That last one was pretty cool,” he admits, hiding his expression behind his cup. “How they made it interactive, you know.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to admit why it’s your favorite,” you tease, reaching across the table and patting his hand. “I know why.”

At the end of the night, Kei walks you home and gives you a sweet parting kiss, waiting to make sure you’re safely inside before turning to walk back to his place

Though he makes a quick pit stop to buy a small picture frame

Once he’s back in his room, he pulls out the photo the two of you had taken in the booth and slips it into the frame, setting it on his nightstand

When he climbs into bed, he angles the frame to face him, staring at your laughing face and feeling warmth spread across his chest

“Love you,” he mutters to himself, turning off the light and drifting off to sleep.

Tetsurou Kuroo

Kuroo’s objective for Valentine’s Day was to do something that would get your heart pounding and bring the two of you closer, so he browsed some ideas until he landed on one that seemed interesting: an escape room.

He reserved one that was meant for pairs, but the booking came with a disclaimer.

While he’s reserving your time slot, he glances up from his computer with a dangerously blank expression

“You’re alright with being handcuffed and blindfolded, right?”

“Excuse me? Where did that come from?”

“I’m making plans for Valentine’s Day.”

“What the hell kind of plans are you making?” you demand, not sure whether to be frightened or amused, and his refusal to answer doesn’t abate your anxiety

You trust Kuroo, but you’re beginning to wonder if that trust is a poor decision.

When Valentine’s Day arrives, it comes as a relief when he walks you up to the escape room’s storefront.

“Well, your earlier question makes a lot more sense now.”

“Are you disappointed that it didn’t turn out to be something different?” He teasingly raises a brow, and you shove him playfully.

The experience starts with the moderators instructing you to choose one person to be blindfolded, and one person to be handcuffed

You and Kuroo decide through rock-paper-scissors, and the result turns out to be you in the blindfold and him in the handcuffs

The moderators lead you into the starting room, which is only about the size of a closet, and lock the door behind you

Your bodies are pressed right up against one another, making the first challenge of getting out of your blindfold and handcuffs quite a difficult one

You would think that you could just reach up and slide the cloth off of your eyes, but the room is so small that you can’t even lift your arms up.

“Well, this is nice,” Kuroo comments, his breath tickling your ear. “Should we just stay like this?”

“I think it would get very sweaty very quickly.”

“All the better.”

“Later, babe. I’m interested in this now. And there’s got to be some sort of other door around here,” you conclude. “I just need to find some way to get my blindfold off so I can look for it.”

“I can help you get it off.”

“How? You’re handcuffed.”

“Just hold still.”

You feel something gently scrape against your face, and when your vision is unobstructed, you see the blindfold dangling from Kuroo’s mouth.

“Did you use your teeth?”

“I couldn’t think of any other way.”

“Well, I’m not going to lie, that was hot.” You notice the outline of another door behind Kuroo. “Hold still. I found the door.”

In order to reach it, you had to wrap him in a tight embrace, your arms brushing against his hips as you reach for the doorknob.

And you start to realize exactly why this particular scenario was meant for couples.

“Okay. Now use your ass to open it,” You instruct, and Kuroo complies with a smirk, revealing the next chamber and a million clues, which you can’t resist checking out immediately

“Aren’t you going to help me get out of these handcuffs?” Kuroo complains, and you fix him with a smirk.

“I think I like you better that way.”

After a playful stare-off, you reach around him and pull the key off the hook behind the door. “Here.”

Once Kuroo is free, the two of you dash around, quickly solving the clues already laid out and uncovering new ones

The both of you work amazingly well together, and with Kuroo’s intelligence, you’re able to escape the room in a record-setting time

Which would’ve been even shorter had you focused the whole time and not found something to laugh at or tease each other about every five minutes

Banter truly defined your relationship

Because you set a record, the staff wanted to take your picture to put on their wall

But as you’re getting in position in front of the themed backdrop, Kuroo announces that he forgot something, and runs in the direction of the lockers, leaving you staring after him in confusion

But when he returns, he presents you with a bouquet of roses, a little cat plushie poking its head out the top

“I wanted to do something traditional,” he explains, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Kuroo! I love it. Thank you, baby.” You take the flowers and stretch up to show your gratidue through a kiss, and when your lips lock, out of the corner of your eye you see the flash of a camera

And when the staff member offers to show you the photo before it gets printed, you discover that it’s the most adorable picture of you and Kuroo that you’ve ever seen in your life, and you immediately ask to take a copy home

As you’re leaving the escape room, your attention is so completely focused on the printed photo that Kuroo has to take your arm and guide you in the right direction, steering you away from wandering straight into traffic

“Why do you keep staring at that picture?”

“It’s just so cute, don’t you think?” You angle it towards him. “Don’t freak out by me saying this, but it almost reminds me of a picture of a proposal.”

Kuroo averts his gaze forward, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards. “Well, I guess we have plans for next Valentine’s all figured out.”

#apparently i was going for a photo theme this time #sugawara imagine #kageyama imagine #haikyuu imagine #tsukishima imagine #kuroo imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu preferences #haikyuu #sugawara koushi #sugawara x reader #sugawara koushi imagine #kageyama tobio #tobio kageyama #kageyama x reader #tsukishima kei #kei tsukishima #tsukishima x reader #tetsurou kuroo #kuroo #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #haikyuu fluff

[undercover-trio]

Summer Rose x GN reader

De request

Yeah, first I’m not sure what kind of request you do. Specific scenarios in mind or no, but I guess head cannons of a Summer x reader in which the reader gets into Team STQR as a sort of student exchange. Summer of course being the person who she was gladly volunteers for you to be on her team with the relation of the two developing.

✨✨✨

Ah, I see, just for future reference I’m fine with doing most things except for NSFW, this is based on the main mods request and my super cheesy self. You’d be cringing over how basic my writing would be.

I try not to be biased as heck with characters but there are just some I can’t help but want to choke to death.

Hopefully you never find out which ones

;)

Anyways, onto your request

o(-`д´- 。)

-Mod Pengie

——————————————————

Summer Rose

——————————————————

Summer’s a pretty positive person, the moment she heard the potential to make a new friend through this student exchange she immediately was all for it

Summer had just been boredly sitting during her leadership class, it was specifically for leaders. Suddenly she perked up at the mention of an exchange student, immediately she raised her hand and volunteered her team.

“As for the exchange student Y/N L/N, which team would be willing to-“

“My team will do it!!!”

The professor stared blankly at the girl who was practically about to fall out of her seat from excitement. With a sigh he nodded in agreement.

“Team STRQ it is.”

If she was excited about you being on her team she must’ve overloaded on serotonin when you met the team

Summer heard a knock on her dorm door, Raven and Qrow were on their beds as Taiyang was reading comics. With a quick little prep dance she opened the door, there you were, in all of you slightly nervous glory.

“Nice to meet you Y/N!! I’m Summer, this is Qrow and Raven!” Summer introduced quickly, giving you minor whiplash with her energy.

“Hey! What about me-“ Taiyang complained.

“And that’s Tai.” She finished, interrupting the blonde making him pout.

You gave a small smile as you put your suitcase down to formally introduce yourself.

“I’m Y/N L/N, it’s nice to meet you.”

Everyone on the team was pretty nice, a little iffy with Raven but Summer would be keeping you company throughout out the whole day

You entered your dorm room with team STRQ, you had a free period now and was totally going to study. As you walked in you immediately made eye contact with blood red eyes, with a minor pause you gave a slight smile.

“Hey Raven.” You greeted, she merely hummed then proceeded to ignore you, with a small pout you noticed the other person in the room.

“Hey Sum.” This time you had a genuine smile, she immediately bolted up from her bed.

“Hey Y/N/N!!!”

You really did appreciate how she made you feel at home.

It was quite obvious you two clicked, the rest of team STRQ noticed this pretty quickly

You and Summer were walking down the hall together, not noticing the rest of your team was behind you, observing.

“I will say- I make some pretty good chocolate chip cookies.” Summer bragged with a smug pose, you merely looked amused.

“Cookies are pretty great but I prefer making macaroons, takes an experienced baker to make em.” You teased, slightly dissing her baking skills. Her eyes widened as she huffed and shoved you with her shoulder, you were surprised but shoved her back only seconds after.

Then you both started having a shoving war as you walked to you next class.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, Qrow and Tai were placing bets as Raven added 25 lien towards you confessing first.

As you guys hung out, the two of you couldn’t help but notice certain things about the other. Cute things.

You and Summer were at a bakery, in between you two were macaroons and cookies. You took a cookie as Summer took a macaroon, she bit the macaroon first.

You observed her as she chewed, her face in a pout you couldn’t help but find cute.

“It’s good, not amazing like cookies but it’s edible.” She murmured all salty.

With a smug grin you took a bite of your cookie, unlike Summer you were mature enough to admit you liked it. As you had a blissful look on your face she couldn’t help but smile.

You could be pretty adorable sometimes.

Summer’s a pretty dense girl, it wasn’t surprising you realized your feelings first

You glanced at Summer from the corner of your eye, she was sitting right next to the window. You couldn’t help but admire how the autumn background suited her.

It wasn’t a secret you thought Summer was pretty, her red hair tips were beautiful. You liked how rosy her cheeks were, and don’t even get started on her eyes.

You smiled a bit.

You liked Summer a lot.

Then your smile dropped.

‘I like Summer?’ You thought, your face quickly turning beet red. You gave one last glance towards Summer.

She looked perfect to you, even as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

‘Yep..I like Summer’

You decided to go to your teammates for advice, good advice? Who knows?

“Listen Y/N, all ya gotta do is start with minor flirting, she’ll start noticing your affection before flirting back.” Qrow advised as he looked you up and down, you had the looks, he was positive you had a chance.

Then Tai came in.

“No no no, Y/N don’t listen to him, just last week he got slapped by this girl from Team LOVE for his stupid pick up lines.” Tai shook his head as Qrow grumbled, way to take away his cool lone wolf image.

“What you need to do are special things, like being extra nice. Open doors for her, get her things from the weapon store, help her with her studies, all of that jazz.” Taiyang grinned, only to see Qrow looking at him all confused.

“What?”

“Nothing, just questioning how I got stuck here with you.”

As the two argued, you merely stood in the corner pensively. You thought their advice was good yet for some reason you didn’t think it’d be best to use on Summer.

After trying to follow your advice, even with doubts, it seemed your worries were right. Summer. Could. Not. Take. A. Hint.

You and Summer were once again walking down the hall together, you speed walked ahead of her to open the door for her. She seemed confused but let you do your thing.

“Uh thanks Y/N, but what was that for?” She asked, slightly befuddled. You could only wince as you realized why Tai’s advice wouldn’t be the best.

Summer is a hardworking person, who likes doing things for people instead of people doing things for her.

You panicked as you tried to follow Qrow’s advice, using the pick up like he said was a must.

“Erm...did it hurt when you fell from heaven.” You couldn’t say the pick up line with a straight face, your face was red as you looked down at the ground. Summer couldn’t hear you very well given that you were mumbling but she got the gist of it-is what she thought.

“Of course it didn’t hurt when I fell in initiation, I’m a huntress in training after all! A little launch from a cliff doesn’t even faze me.” She pridefully bragged, you couldn’t help but think it was cute.

Didn’t stop the migraine you got from thinking of how you’d confess to this dense girl though.

So you tried your own spin on things, a blunt confession for a dense girl

“Hey Summer, can we talk?” You shyly asked, Summer quickly nodded. Both of you were alone in your dorm, Summer at the moment was worried you were being bullied since this seemed serious.

“What’s up Y/N?” Summer asked, her face looked slightly worried as you looked nervous.

“I was wondering..”

Summer beckoned you to continue.

“If you’d like to go out on a date with me.”

Summer nodded but then immediately froze when she realized what you asked. She looked at you in surprise, her heart melted when she saw how you were fidgeting with the sleeve of your uniform.

“I- I would uh- love to.” Summer croaked out, she too was getting shy now, in a burst of bravery she kissed your cheek before making a tactical retreat.

Your face exploded in a blush as she left, you could practically feel the happiness coming off of you.

And just like that you two became the most awkward couple, at least until Qrow kicked you out of the room every time you made him cringe

Summer heard a knock on the dorm door, she smiled slightly as she remembered how much this reminded her of you two’s first meeting. She smoothed out her red dress and white cloak as she opened the door.

There you were in all of your shy glory.

You two merely stood there in silence before you coughed to get her attention.

“Ready to go?” You asked.

“Yeah.” She nodded, another moment of silence went by before Summer was shoved out the room and the door slammed.

“I’m cringing just watching you imbeciles, don’t come back until you can actually socialize!” You two could hear Qrow shout through the door.

You both merely chuckled, he certainly helped break the awkwardness. Then you both headed to your date spot.

Finally you two became one of the bearable and sweet couples

You rested your head on Summer’s shoulder as she read her textbook, her sitting in between your legs. This was how you guys relaxed together now, not noticing Tai, Qrow and surprising Raven in the corner with lien.

“You two are heartless” Tai sobbed out as he gave them 50 lien, Raven took the money then headed to her bed to relax. Qrow stayed and threw his arm around Tai’s shoulder.

“Y’see Tai, on the bright side those two romantic abominations got their feelings through.”

Tai could only nod as he proudly looked at you and Summer.

“All in a day’s work.” He spoke, wanting to say a cool one liner, of course Qrow had to ruin it.

“More like a few months but okay-“

“Hey!”

—————————————————-

And the request is doneee

o(🔥`д´ 🔥。)

As always I hoped you liked it

The theme of this request is

✨Adorkable✨

Hoped you liked it my ✨anonymous✨friend

As you guys know, I barely follow the headcanon format but here dis thing is

Have a swell day you simps and see ya next time

-Mod Pengie

#mod pengie #rwby #rwby x reader #tagging still sucks #fluff #gender nuetral reader #summer rose #rwby summer #team strq #qrow branwen #rwby taiyang #rwby qrow #rwby strq #strq #raven branwen #im tired #rwby raven #shy reader

[gladerwolfstarkimagines]

Mako x female water bender imagine

Imagine volunteering to be Mako and Bolin’s stand-in water bending teammate for a few pro-bending matches and Mako strongly opposing the idea, telling you flat out you’re not good enough. You and Mako have always had a rocky relationship and you figure his dislike for you is why he won’t let you compete but it’s more the opposite. He’s refusing to let you compete because he has feelings for you and doesn’t want you to get hurt.

Part two here

Your POV

You could tell the training session had gone badly from the second you heard Mako and Bolin’s footsteps on the approach to your shared loft. If they’d had a good session Bolin would always come bounding in but the footsteps were slow and heavy so you knew they’d had another hard time. “Hey y/n” Bolin said pushing the door open dramatically and you frowned “that bad huh?”. Bolin nodded his head “we sucked and Hasook quit!”. “He quit?” you asked surprised, you knew their water bender team mate was flaky but to quit right in the middle of a season? “But why?” you asked  “you’ve only lost a few matches you have pleanty of time to turn the season around”. “He doesn’t care” Mako sighed “he’s never really cared and now he’s just abandonned us”. “I still think he’ll come back if you maybe just apologise...” Bolin started and Mako spun on “I will not apologise! I meant what I said, he’s not even a good probender we can find someone else”. “But by tomorrow?” Bolin asked “Mako we don’t have any reserves”. “I know but I was thinking we could try poaching one from another team”. “We can’t afford that” Bolin cried “we can barely afford me and you!”. Mako sighed “well we’ll think of someway...”. “How? Mako if we don’t find someone and soon then we’re toast, we’ll be kicked out of the league, out of the loft..”. “Don’t you think I know that” Mako cried and you coughed awkwardly. “I could do it?”. Mako and Bolin paused mid argument and looked at you. “I mean until you find a professional replacement, I could fill in temporarily”. Mako frowned but Bolin grinned "seriously? You’d do that for us?". You shrugged "i mean yeah why not? I’m not a bad water bender, I could do it until you find someone more qualified". Bolin cheered ready to celebrate when Mako ruined the mood with one word.  "No" Mako said without even considering the idea and you felt your excitment plummet. "Why? I know all your plays and both of you well, plus i’ve helped you out at practices before and if you don’t have someone by tomorrow you’re out for the season". "Exactly" bolin nodded "y/n’s the perfect fit". You grinned as Bolin wrapped an arm around you and both turned awkwardly to Mako waiting for the final verdict. He seemed in a worse mood than ever and rolled his eyes "you’re not qualified, you'll get hurt and be a liability, you’re not doing it" and walked away. “A liabilty?” you called after him but he didn’t reply. You turned to Bolin furious “a liability?”. “He didn’t mean that he’s just angry, I’ll work on it I promise”. You frowned and went to follow Mako to argue with him but Bolin caught your arm “no y/n why don’t you both cool off? I’ll start a nice meal and then when we’re all calm, rested and fed we can discuss it properly, yes?”. You sighed but nodded “okay”. “Great” Bolin cried “you go relax I’ll call you when dinner’s ready”.

Your stomach growled and you frowned at the door. It had been 2 hours and still no call from Bolin, how much longer did he think you needed to calm down? You sighed before realising you couldn’t hear any noise from the kitchen, if Bolin was cooking surely he’d be making noise. You opened your door and found the loft empty, Bolin and the food nowhere in sight. Actually that wasn’t right, the ingredients were all there but that was as far as Bolin got apparently. You sighed shaking your head and started making the food instead. Five minutes later Mako’s door opened “Bolin how much longer is the food going to take i’m starving” before stopping when he saw you. “Bolin didn’t get past taking the ingredients out of the fridge so you’re going to have wait a while” you said coldly and Mako nodded. “Well if i help it’ll get done quicker” and grabbed some vegetables that needed peeling. As Mako joined you in the kitchen you realised this was probably a set up.  You suspected Bolin had done this on purpose and sighed. Mako stood next to you but made no effort to talk or even look in your direction. It was uncomfortably tense and you couldn’t not saying anything. “So you changed your mind yet?” you asked and Mako shook his head “nope”. “You realise you’re being stupid don’t you?” you asked “there’s no reaon why I couldn’t atleast try!”. “Yeah well I’m the leader and I say you’re not doing it”. You scoffed and threw the pan you were holding down leaving the kitchen. “Y/n” Mako sighed “I’m not doing this because I want to, I’m doing it for you”. “For me? because I’m so useless I couldn’t possibly be of use to you?” you yelled and Mako sighed. "Y/n I’m not refusing to let you play because i think you’re useless". "Yeah well calling me a liability really proves that" you scoffed and Mako glared. "I’m trying to apologise". "Ow really?" you asked "because usually that starts with i’m sorry y/n or i was wrong or i was a dick, not i don’t think you’re completely useless y/n". "I didn’t say it like that you’re twisting my words!" Mako cried and you rolled your eyes "whatever i’m going out". "You are? But y/n it’s late" Mako said worried considering the neighbourhod you lived in. You didn’t care though and ignored him slamming the door hard.  

Mako’s POV

Mako was furious, you were so infuriating when you got angry! You were so stubborn and never listened to him. It was dark and late, you shouldn’t be going out into the streets alone, you lived in an awful neighbourhood. Not to mention considering the three of you used to be associated with the Shady Shin’s gang all the gangs around here know who you are. He waited ten minutes before following you, his anger overshadowed by his worry for you. Mako had an idea of where you’d go. Although you’d left Shady Shin’s gang with Mako and Bolin you still held the gang in a positive view and had the ridiculous notion the gang members were simply *old friends* and treated them as such. Mako told you not to, he told you the gang didn’t care about you anymore but would you listen? No. Mako entered the gang’s chosen bar and looked around for you. He couldn’t spot you but knew you’d be here somewhere. "Mako?" someone called and he turned to see an *old friend*. "Thought you’d gone straight" the man smirked "you finally come crawling back realising that life doesn’t work for guys like us?" the man asked and Mako resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "No i’ve just lost something and thought it might be here". “Your brother’s girl? She’s here". Mako forgot how much he hated that, everyone at the gang assumed you and Bolin were a thing just because you obviously got on. "Y/n isn’t Bolin’s girl" Mako spat and the man smirked raising an eyebrow "ow yeah forgot you were sweeter on her than him even though she’s with him more...that’s gotta be annoying, her prefering him". "Where is she?" Mako asked through gritted teeth and the man smirked as Mako grabbed him. "She’s back there, in Shadys Shin’s private box, guess one of his men’s taking a liking to her too, i’d hurry if i was you". Mako pushed through the door quickly and scanned the room for you. He spotted you sat with the only other girl in the room, some girl you still classed as a friend, Shady Shin not far away from you. Everyone looked up as Mako entered apart from you. The girl beside you nudged you and you looked up and paled seeing Mako.

Your POV

"Hey y/n thought you said none of your loser boys would be here" one of Shady Shin’s men called. You grimanced and glared at the speaker "he’s not mine and i didn’t know he’d be here". “Well get rid of him before we do” Shady Shin snarled. You saw Mako get ready for a fight and stood up “fine alright i’ll sort it”. You reached Mako and tugged his arm towards the door. As soon as you were out of ear shot Mako launched into a lecture "why are you here?" he cried "y/n these are bad people and you came alone! I know you think they care about you but they don’t, not like me and Bolin do!". "Bolin sure" you nodded "you only ever tolerated me, you let me hang around because i was good at being sneaky, because the rent 3 ways was cheaper, because Bolin wanted me there not because you did". "You know that’s not true" Mako said "you know i like you". "Ow yeah how have you proved that?". "So what just because i’m not like Bolin and don’t wear my heart on my sleeve i can’t like you? I’m just not emotional like him y/n! I don’t do elaborate gestures to prove i like you". "So what do you do?" you cried and Mako glared. "I pretend i’ve split the food three ways when i split it two ways between you and Bolin, i get into fights with shady shins men over them waiting outisde our apartment for you, i change my training schedule or Bolin’s so one of us can finish at the same time you finish work so you don’t have to walk home in the dark alone, I come in here knowing i’ll have so many targets on my back but i do it anyway! I make you so angry at me by refusing to let you compete in the tournament because i’m terrified of you getting hurt y/n! It’s my worst fear something bad happening to you or Bolin...that’s why I can’t have you in the ring with us! I know Bolin can take a hit but I can still protect him to an extent but if you were both there...I can’t protect both of you and if something happened to you in the tournament...i’d rather get kicked out then let that happen". "You...that’s why you didnt want me competing? you don’t think i’m useless?". Mako shook his head "no i actually think you’d be a good fit but i’ve seen the best taken out by rogue disks or a slap of water...i don’t pro-bend because i enjoy it! I do it because it gave me, you and Bolin a home, a way to escape the gang, i did it to keep you safe not to put you in danger". You paused and looked at Mako "why didn’t you just tell me all this? Why make yourself out as the bad guy?". "I don’t know because it’s easy to sell? I’m used to being the stick in the mud so it’s easy. Because it’s easier to act like i don’t care or be rude than admit that i do? Because i’m scared of what you'll think of me if i do...if you know how much i care". You smiled "Mako..." you started but he carried on. "But i’m sick of that, I’m tired of seeing you look at me like you hate me when you look at Bolin with so much fondness. I’m sick of Bolin getting all your affection, all your smiles and you think i’m just some cold prick who doesn’t care about you but i do care y/n a lot and i want to show you that! I want affection from you! I want...well you". You paused surprised but smiled "you do?". Mako nodded and then seeing the way you were looking at him crashed into you. Mako was in such a rush it was messy and a bit harsh but you didn’t care. The kiss was good, really good. This was why Mako was so popular with girls you figured wrapping your arms around his neck. Mako seemed genuinely surprised you would kiss him back but that didn’t stop him making the most of it. He pushed you back against the door hastily and you smirked at his enthusiasm. "And all this time I thought you hated me" you breathed and Mako shook his head breaking away from you long enough to look you in the eye "never, more of the opposite". He kissed you again and you smiled getting more and more lost in the feeling when the police showed up. Sirens blared and you and Mako jumped apart. "We can’t be spotted here" Mako said grabbing your hand "if we get caught we won’t be allowed to compete tomorrow, we have to go!". You nodded and followed as Mako dragged you away from the noise. You scrambled over fences and across rooftops until the sirens died away and you neared your home. You were still hand in hand as you ascended to your attic and Mako paused outside the door "y/n...". "You said we" you smiled "when the police showed up, you said if we can’t get caught because we won’t be able to complete tomorrow, we not you, does this mean you’re letting me join the team?". Mako sighed but nodded "i can’t protect you forever, if you want to do this i’ll support you". You grinned "even though you like me?". Mako nodded swallowing nervously "yes, you're not mine to tell what to do even if i like you". "Good answer" you smiled and went to open the door but Mako stopped you "erm y/n...you kissed me back, atleast I think you did, does that mean...do you like me too?". "You tell me" you shrugged leaning up to kiss him again. This time you made it slow and deliberate instead of the heated kiss from before. You lingered and took your time and when you pulled away Mako was breathless. "yes?" he asked and you smirked "yes Mako". Mako grinned and unlocked the door in a daze. You smiled as he lumbered into the room glancing at you every so often. The air was tense between you again but now in a good way. Bolin burst in suddenly and picked up on the tension immediately "Hey what happened in here, it feels weird". "We sorted it" you replied looking to Mako who smirked "yeah y/n’s competing with us tomorrow". "She is?" Bolin asked "you agreed to that?". Mako nodded "if y/n wants to do it who am i stop her?". You shot him an approving smile as Bolin hugged you "yay y/n this is going to be so cool!". Bolin crashed you into a hug again and you smiled but looked over his shoulder at Mako. Knowing all you knew now it was like looking at a completely different person. Now when he looked at you, that familiar intense serious look, it made you blush, made you feel cared for and protected. When you saw his lips twitch you knew he was trying not to smile and he turned away cheeks slightly red. If only he’d told you sooner...but it was okay, you were good at making up for lost time.

----

So i’m planning on maybe doing a continuation of this with them being teammates who live together, train together and compete together all while dating and trying to keep it a secret from Bolin all at the same time but i’ll see :)

#mako #lok #lok mako #avatar mako #avatar #mako imagine #lok mako imagine #mako x reader #lok imagine #legend of korra #legend of korra mako #legend of korra imagine #bolin #fire ferrets #pro bending #water bending #shady shin #lok bolin #avatar bolin

[gagmebucky]

hiiii i wrote this awhile ago but took it down because i was 👉🏼👈🏼 embarrassed about it (because i do not have the skill to pull off peter parker) and sorta still am but everyone’s been so nice to me about it i thought the best way to repay the kindness by posting it for those who did like it 😅 (originally inspired by spider man 2 with andrew garfield but loosely set in the 2018 issue of the amazing spider-man.)

in which the guys are making fun of peter and accidentally see a video of him fucking you. (includes avenger!peter x girlfriend!you, peter’s pov, voyeur!steve and voyeur!bucky, a sex tape featuring d/s dynamics, bondage, praise kink, exhibitionism, unprotected sex.) 

do not repost.

—

Despite being twenty-one years old; a proper adult who lives with his high school sweetheart, a photographer doubling as a seven-year veteran vigilante in the dangers of New York, Peter Parker is still considered as a super-powered amateur to his seasoned peers. 

Nonetheless, given his success in countless battles in the state, country, world and even galaxy-wide, he more than qualifies to hold the title of Avenger; it’s official now. A laid-back induction ceremony and his very own identity card: a sturdy rectangle, shiny with full clearance and all. Yet, as an official member, his teammates still treat him like he’s that same goofy, out-of-his-depths sixteen year old.

To be fair, yes, his style of heroism isn’t the most serious. He favors levity in the face of danger, a cheeky flare with smart quips and an infuriating grin. Even after taking a beating from the worst of foes, his demeanor never wavers because in the end, he wins. The villains are slayed and the people are saved, even comforted by the boyishly confident way he works. 

But beyond that persona, he has grown into a skilled warrior. On that note, he wants to be regarded as such—at least, to a certain extent. The jokes and teasing, poking fun at his age or the shenanigans he gets himself into, don’t bother him. No, his playful wit handles it with relative ease, and he’s a good sport about it. The only thing that he’d want to see change is some recognition that he isn’t a naïve kid anymore and is fully capable of taking charge when needed.

With his recent acceptance into the gifted pantheon, he’s intent on making that known. The jesting can continue but he wants it to be with an understanding of his capabilities. Luckily, a perfect opportunity has presented itself to showcase his abilities: a training session. 

He’s late. And yes, he knows that’s probably not a good impression to make.

In his own defense, it isn’t technically his fault. He forgot that you, his personal alarm clock (amongst other things), left early this morning because you volunteered to help his aunt move. Four years of mornings and nights, he’s gotten used to—and prefers—your languorous wake-up call.

Without your reminder, he regains consciousness fifteen minutes after the scheduled time and ends up scrambling to the compound. In a flurry, he throws on his suit—unknowingly backwards, he realizes later—trips at least three times over his own footing before he finally springs out of the balcony with webbed bursts.

When he reaches his destination, Captain America and the Winter Soldier are unimpressed; mid-simulation, it powers down. Both super-soldiers whirl around to face him, fixing raised eyebrows at his disheveled arrival.

He adjusts his now front-facing suit and shuffles forward into the space with as much confidence as an interrupter can have. “H - hey, guys,” Peter greets sheepishly and manages what he hopes is a charming smile, absentmindedly fidgeting with his phone. “Lookin’ good for a couple of geezers.” 

Unfortunately, Steve Rogers is not charmed or disillusioned from the tardiness. “You’re late, Parker.” His arms fold, and he shakes his head when punctuating his disapproval with an echoing, “Again.” 

Thankfully, to his right, more relaxed and cool, Bucky Barnes steps up. “C’mon, Stevie. Y’can’t be that surprised,” he chimes in matter of factly, contrasting against his friend with amusement sparkling in his blue eyes. “What’d you expect with Parker?” He gestures at the younger superhero. “Kid’s gonna be late to his own wedding.”

(Beside the point, but worth noting, he will not be late to meeting you at the altar. That is, of course, if you accept when he pops the question. Which is going to happen relatively soon, considering he has the ring in his nightstand drawer.)

The consult seems to relax him. “Yeah, I guess you’re right and—Peter, you—seriously, man?!” Steve sputters the last bit when he glanced over to see him blatantly check the notification that’s vibrated in his hand (on the device that is ruled to be stowed away during training). “Now the phone?!” 

Even though he shouldn’t, being on thin ice with Cap and all (pun not intended), Peter’s gaze flickers down to see your contact name appear on the screen, and he can’t resist. While Bucky guffaws a laugh at his audacity, he’s swiping up to pull up your text thread. 

> you 😛❤️🥰, 10:37AM: spider boyyyyy you’ll never guess what i found in a box labeled ‘peter’s junk’ ;;;)

peter, 10:37AM: those magazines are NOT mine and i don’t know how they got there.

> you 😛❤️🥰, 10:38AM: not quite but close, naughty boy

> you 😛❤️🥰, 10:38AM: for a man who depends on keeping secrets and a penchant for home movies, you might ought to keep a lock on your phone unless you want someone to see me like this...

> you 😛❤️🥰, 10:38AM: (video attached)

Immediately, he recognizes the pornographic thumbnail. One glance, and he’s remembering the first couple of times you guys explored the exhibitionism side of things. It was at the end of his freshman year of college and taped on a phone he thought he had lost. But he must've forgotten it at his aunt’s house, and she tossed it in the box until you came along. 

Although there’s been plenty more made, he recalls that one being a shared favorite, his especially. When long-distance duty calls, it was his go-to media. The angles, your face and body beneath the lights, the sounds it caught, you once asked if he considered switching to cinematography instead of photographer

Subconsciously, his teeth run over his bottom lip, feeling that blazing spark of desire igniting in the pit of his gut, partially at the memory and partially at what’ll happen once you guys can re-watch it together; his thumbs start typing away with that message.

“Peter!” Steve’s exasperated voice snaps, but to no avail—the real gall of the youngster, or the effect of you. His weight shifts toward his best friend, and he nudges him with his elbow. “Kids these days!” The hundred-something year old’s gaze cocks a brow back over. “Is that why you were late? Blowing off training to text your girlfriend?”

The text delivers with an audible bloop. Finally, his concentration gives, and he can look up, though his expression is clueless from the last minute. “Huh?” His brain registers what he missed, and he winces. “Sorry, Cap. My bad.”

Bucky chuckles. “Give him a break, Steve,” he faux comes to his defense, a teasing quality underlying his tone. “He’s young and in love. It’s not his fault he’s pussy-whipped.” He cracks him an antagonizing grin as Peter rolls his eyes. “He can’t go an hour without sending those little weird pictures with heart eyes, or she might not know he’s thinking about her.”

“As if you know anything about romance, old man,” he fires back and presses past them with squared shoulders, correcting him quite seriously: “And they’re called emojis, by the way. But that’s not what I was doing, if you want to know so bad.”

The brunette tilts his head thoughtfully, and small hackles arise for reasons he doesn’t understand, or pay attention to. “You know, I do want to know really badly,” Bucky decides and poses a question to his left, “Wouldn’t you, too, Steve? Aren’t you curious what his girlfriend sent that was so much more important than training?”

The blond mimics his actions and clicks his tongue. “Yeah, I am.” 

Peter’s eyebrows pinch while his skin tingles and the hair on the back of his neck stands straight up. “What—” Before his senses process it, one of the super-soldiers plucks his phone out of his hands and darts back beside his best friend. His jaw drops as he tries to follow after him. “Bucky, you asshole—”

“Some spidey senses, huh?” The Winter Soldier lifts it high over his head, utilizing his six-foot stature against his five-ten like elementary school bullies do and older siblings to their juniors. “Haven’t ‘cha heard about sharing with the class?” He laughs and practically stiff-arms him to squint up at the screen. “Aw, he can’t wait to see her. What’s it been, more than two hours since you two saw each other last?” 

Conceding to the height difference, Peter stops his physical efforts and diverts it to someone reasonable. “Cap, you gonna help me out here?” he addresses the entertained onlooker in the most friendly voice he can manage. 

“The kid’s got separate anxiety not just from his girlfriend but phone too, Buck,” Steve drawls with a lopsided curve of his lips. He side-steps Peter to stand next to Bucky, and for a second, he thinks he’s on his side despite the tease, but he simply adds a stern, “So be careful. You don’t want to break it, or Parker will have a fit.”

Peter crosses his arms and scowls. “Ha, ha,” he retorts dryly, only somewhat amused by their banter. He tilts his head up at them, and the duo look thoroughly pleased with themselves. “You know, you guys are kind of dicks.”

“No, we’re your mentors, kid,” Steve corrects with a wink and rests his arm on his friend’s shoulder. “This is a lesson. No phones—” He jabs his thumb back in reference to the device’s unlocked screen: “—when you’re supposed to be training.” 

“Yeah,” Bucky chimes in upon glancing up from his phone. “And a little advice, women don’t like clinginess. Try being a little more stern and see how that works for you. If you’re able to manage that. But I won’t hold it against ya if you can’t.”

“Uh-huh,” Peter patronizes with a bob of his head, biting back a response pointing out the hundred-something year old’s inexperience. Instead, he focuses on the electronic readily loaded up with some private content. With that, he decides to do the rational and mature thing and ask nicely. “Noted. So, uh, can I have my phone back now?” 

To his shock, Bucky merely flashes a smirk and his thumb scrolls half-heartedly over the thread. Thereafter, he leans toward Steve and raises his cell for him to see. “Oh, look, it’s a video,” he teases. “What could Y/N send that would take priority of training?” 

There’s an unspoken let’s see then a metal finger taps the play button. Before Peter can think, much less react, Captain American and the Winter Soldier are watching how he effortlessly renders his pretty little girlfriend into a cute nonsensical yet eager mess— 

In his point-of-view shot, the ratio holds in portrait view in a bid to capture every bit of you. Above you, the camera focuses on you and your beautifully debauched state beneath warm lighting where it’s unalienable that the camera was made for you. 

Your eyes are dilated brightly, desperate with desire as your lashes flutter up at him. A sheen coats your features and glistens like glitter at the highest points of your face while the shape of your face is framed by your stretched arms. 

Your wrists are bound over your head, splotched with expertly sprayed strong, white webs. The mesh sticks them together in a criss-cross, comfortable but nearly impossible to break out of, fixed in place atop his headboard. The tautness tugs a mild strain on your figure so your breasts are jutting out like an offering, and it’s obvious he’s taken advantage of it. Darkened marks adorn your glowing complexion, peppered across your décolletage with imprints of his teeth; including your nipples, sucked swollen and tender. 

The angle trails down until it reveals the sight of him mercilessly pounding inside of you. His better-than-average girth is sliding in and out of your tight channel; slicked in shared translucent essence, creaming around the base, your inner walls visibly clinging to his cock with every backward stroke. His hand splays on your mound, using his thumb to abuse your engorged clit. He easily keeps the sensitive nub pinned under his control despite your wildly twisting hips. 

Like the display, the soundtrack is equally obscene. Loud, your stuffed depths gush and squelch as skin slaps rhythmically. Your breathy, wanton moans overshadow both, drawn out whimpers, almost nonsensical other than the syllable of his name. A melody of neediness, you sound so fucking pretty, (depraved, like a whore, you once told him during your little film marathon with a sly smile), and for him specifically.

The frame pans upward and confirms you look just as good. A perfect mess, unhinged by the skilled ministrations of your boyfriend. Passion beads on your forehead like reflections off of a diamond. Panting, your lips are plumped from kissing parted with mewls of pleasure. 

“P - please—I need to—can I - I please—” You’re begging like the sweet little thing you are, incoherent babbling the result of his excessive edging. Of course, you know better than to give into the sensations ravaging you; instead you ignore your visceral desire and ask him for your release. “Peter, please!” 

A deep chuckle vibrates behind the camera as his big hand slides into view, trailing over your jiggling tits to the slope of your throat. “Maybe,” he says breathily and grasps the line of your jaw between his fingers. “Open your mouth first, babe.” 

No more preamble necessary, you follow his direction, your pink tongue flat over your Cupid’s bow. Immediately, a long string of his saliva drips into view and onto your taste buds; the vulgar act is accepted with a swallow and a quivering moan of, “T - thank you.” 

“Good girl,” he praises huskily, and the voiced approval has you visibly shivering. “Alright, then, pretty girl. Make it good for me, and c’mon—”

Before your otherworldly reckoning washes over you and his teammates can watch your bliss immortalized in film, Peter snatches his property back. 

Not much force is necessary as Bucky’s grip has been stunned loose. A dark expression permeates on young hero’s face but not because of embarrassment; if he was still nineteen or eighteen, he would’ve been mortified that his titular superiors caught a depraved glimpse of his sex life, on both his and your behalf. Rather than, there’s just a flit of annoyance when he folds his arms.

“Shit,” Bucky is the first to speak, exhaling the swear raggedly. His blue pupils have widened in obvious attraction, dilated dark, blinking rapidly as if it’ll help calm him down from the clip of you, his innocent seeming girlfriend, all ruined and begging. “Parker, fuck, I - I didn’t know you got down like that.” 

There’s a swell in his chest, pride beating steadily while he remains reticent-faced. He prefers you keep your bedroom activities secluded there. Yeah, he likes to be in control and you like to be controlled but it’s only in a sexual nature. Yet, their reactions—stunned, embarrassed and viscerally affected—surges smug satisfaction he’s never known before through his veins. 

Even the prestigious Captain America is bothered, though he may try to hide it. He clears his throat, a flustered pink coloring his cheeks. “Peter, uh,” he says, barely maintaining the confidence to look him in the eye after witnessing his girlfriend like that. “We - we shouldn’t have invaded your privacy like that.” 

“Uh-huh,” is Peter’s response, a hint of a smirk curling on one side of his lips. “Why don’t you guys call me after you’re finished with your cold showers, and we can actually train. Until then, I’m gonna go to my girl who’s more than eager to handle mine.” He pauses. “Maybe if you guys ask nice enough, I might let her show you how well I’ve trained her.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #marvel smut imagines #spiderman x reader smut #marvel smut #heh I am going to pass out #I.. #goodnight im off me ass sjdjjsxj

[ohshitmomitsawritingblog]

Aight my friend I'm here to give you your first post I got you For the Alphabet Soup: Obito, Madara, Deidara, Kakashi, Zetsu, Kisame, Sasori. You ofc do not need to do all, just given some variety; pick and choose, also choose whatever letters you want, my brain can't comprehend so many letters rn Have fun ily

Puca bless u this first post is gonna be a Fat One Folks

Deidara

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Deidara wants to do new stuff all the time, full stop. He’s perpetually uncomfortable with a distinct routine, which he’d consider being stagnant. With his S/O, he’d be down to do anything once - maybe the one bit of consistency in their relationship is his need to be around his partner on a pretty regular basis.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

He thinks complaining to his partner is a good excuse to tell them about his day.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Surprisingly pretty understanding! I’ve always seen Deidara as being incredibly independent and assumes others feel similarly, so it’s not like he’ll ever be overly dotting, but he will be considerate. In pain? Go lay down. Need help with something? He’ll lend a hand. That being said, he can be a little egotistical so while he anticipates his partners physical needs often, he can be apt to not check in with them emotionally and sometimes doesn’t consider their views on things. Youth, ya know?

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

‘Hey, you!’

Lmao, he’s a little rude and not the type for being publically sweet to his S/O - in fact I think he’d see it as a kind of weakness or source of embarrassment - so he’d probably come off as a little gruff when addressing them, as if subconsciously compensating for how sweet he really is on them.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Decent. He’s not overly passionate, but he gives surprisingly comforting kisses. But. There’s a learning curve. His first kiss with his S/O involved a lot of knocking of noses and clacking teeth. He takes their face by the chin when he kisses.

Kakashi

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Kakashi probably likes his S/O because they’re tenacious and on the ball in terms of their own goals - of course he 100% supports them doing their own thing, and he deeply believes that they’ll achieve whatever they set their mind to. So much so that it doesn’t cross his mind that they could fail.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

Their name. Kakashi nearly passed out reading very innocent phrases from Icha Icha, I think he’d actually choke on his own tongue if he even attempted calling his S/O something like ‘dear’ for like. Years. That’s reserved for the bedroom. 😌

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Reading! Exploring the village! I get the impression that Kakashi and his S/O are partial to late night dinner and drinks with friends - especially on cool, smokey nights. Going to obscure bookshops is a big second, and I can see Kakashi enjoying quiet, laid back art scenes - that giant ass painting in his apartment speaks of a taste for impressionist scenery. I feel like Kakashi likes washing the dishes or cooking dinner with his S/O best! They talk about their days, or they just enjoy the silence of working together.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Sitting next to them. Existing in the same space. If his partner is the type to clearly need physical affection during a crisis, I can see Kakashi being the type to sit next to them and press his shoulder to their’s, or to rub small circles on their back. If they’re crying or are generally on the shorter side, he’ll press his mouth and nose into their hair. It’s his way of telling them ‘I see you, and I’m not turning your pain away’.

Furthermore, Kakashi struggles with himself and what his needs as a person are, and isn’t sure how to relate to his partner beyond being a solider or comrade, and desperately doesn’t want to invalidate his S/O’s feelings, as his own have in the past. He also has no idea what to say, other than going off his his own desperate attempts to make sense of his grief, anxiety, and sadness, but often feels like that doesn’t cut it. The pain may, at the root, be similar, but his S/O’s suffering his their own, so he tries not to say anything at all. I think he especially deeply reflects his S/Os feelings when they’re feeling hurt or sad and it shows in those small physical cues.

To quote Cole from Dragon Age: his hurt touches their’s.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Yes. Yes. Yes. Kakashi kisses are electrifying - he’s so soft and sweet but so intense. Lots of pecks are his style versus one long kiss. When he first kisses his S/O, it’s almost a little sad, though they can’t place why at the time. He cups his S/O’s face in his hands when he kisses them.

Kisame

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Hiking! Swimming! I feel like Kisame would be the type to like to distance himself from civilization during his scant bits and pieces of free time, and would genuinely enjoy the experience nature would offer, any time of year. When he feels restless, I could see him wondering away from his campsite and just exploring the area. Alternatively, I can see him enjoying the stillness of it all. I can see him enjoying a deserted stretch of beach with his S/O, not a soul around but them, watching the spring grey clouds or the washed out blue waves and just taking it all in. Very zen.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Kisame makes it a policy to have zero secrets from his S/O. He doesn’t, by nature, have a taste for lying, but his work and duty have dictated that he lie or, at best, stretch the truth more times than he can count over the years, and now he despises. If it can be destroyed by the truth, it deserves to be destroyed. That being said, Kisame is human, and I think there are things he’s done that he elects not to volunteer unless directly asked.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Kisame understands his partner and their needs well - I don’t think he rushes into relationships (in fact I think he shies away from anything more than casual interactions more often than not) and I don’t think he wouldn’t take his time truly understanding how his partner ticks. He doesn’t pry, but Kisame is a good spy and a smart man and he observes what his S/O says and does (and reads between those lines) on a consistent basis.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

If Kisame’s partner is female, I feel like he definitely calls her by ‘woman’ affectionately. He’s a little old fashioned like that and I can picture him growing up around adults who referred to their own partners like that. Kisame is one of those men who expresses his affection for his partner through the way he speaks (low pitched voice, soft and just loud enough for you to hear, for instance) versus what he says, so nicknames aren’t really his thing.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

He kisses tenderly, and is kind of stiff - but the more he does it, the more he falls in step with his partner and their likes and dislikes. Not good or bad. The first kiss with his S/O was a simple press of their lips, nothing super passionate, and a little awkward.

Sasori

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Absolutely does not like his routine messed with, and, presumably, neither would his partner. Sasori seems like one of those people who are absolutely adverse to any kind of change and isn’t too thrilled with the idea of ‘spicing things up’. He’s there, he’s present, that’s enough right?

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

One of the simplest, most profound expressions of love for Sasori is acts of service - particularly putting a blanket over his partner if they fall asleep without any covers. He’ll never admit it, though.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

That’s a big ol’ no from me dawg. Sasori is just set in his ways and kind of a prick when it comes to anything messing with his plans and how he views the world. If his S/O did slowly influence or help him overcome anything though, I think it would be his consistent rejection of intimate relationships. Like, Sasori has spies, Sasori has informants, Sasori has Akatsuki teammates and associates, but hardly any of them see his ‘true form’ and even less actually like him. He’s a hard man - whose hard on others - who very ruthlessly destroyed his relationship with his sole living relative AND single handedly threw his birthplace into chaos by murdering the third Kazekage.

For him to even toy with the idea of having an S/O, he’d have to really, REALLY like them. He’d have to put aside a lot of subconscious fears and complexes and decide, at the vert least, that he wants them. That’s a huge change, for him, and not one he can fully commit to 24/7. Basically, his S/O changes him before they even get together. Good luck trying to squeeze anything else out of him.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

‘Woman’/‘brat’/‘boy’. Sasori is kind of a dick and he definitely means it as half a put down, half letting anyone in the vacinity know who his S/O belongs to.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Noooope. Sasori doesn’t do affection well, isn’t super inclined to kisses even when he has a human body, and as a puppet, he’s kind of stiff. The first kiss with his S/O is a quick press of the lips to the head or temples - not much of a kiss at all, but for Sasori, it means a lot.

Madara

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Have you watched Naruto?

Yes. Absolutely. Madara has lost so much, and when he connects with someone enough to presumably fall in love with them and pursue a relationship, it’s for the long haul. Madara’s love means Madara’s protection means Madara’s almost obsessive worrying he hides under twenty layers of coo cool, smooth boyfriend material. Worst case scenario, Madara will kill a man for his S/O, and won’t feel bad about it. Worser case scenario, he’d endeavor to create a false dream world where there’s no strife, war, or death, and no choice. ☺️

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Physical activities! Hunting, rock climbing, falconry, hell, even cleaning - i can see Madara’s idea of a relaxing time being cleaning out a shed or re-organizing his office! Presumably his S/O would either be similarly inclined or would indulge him. It does need done after all! There’s something about these all consuming, mentally stimulating activities that i can see Madara truly enjoying. He’d come out feeling refreshed. When feeling less adventurous, or maybe even, gasp, lazy, I can see Madara and his S/O playing board games, practicing calligraphy together, or painting.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

In a long term relationship? Madara definitely sees a future where his S/O is Lady or Lord of the house, deeply involved with clan matters, and maybe, if they’re wanting and capable, with some kids running around. Keep in mind I imagine large families were common amongst the Uchiha pre-Konoha merge, so his idea of ‘some’ probably means five at the least. He has no real expectations of how his S/O would orchestrate themselves - beyond well, that is. He likes them for them, and doesn’t deign to even toy with the idea of putting them in a box, even in his head. The bottom line is: they’re together, and they’re strong together, and the world they build together is sturdier than the one they came into.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

 A repeat question, but on the more emotional side: I think Madara, for the longest time, genuinely wishes for a future in which he and his S/O live quietly, and well. It’s in that bittersweet way though, the way someone wishes when they don’t necessarily think it’ll ever come true.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Not well. Madara is naturally inclined to pinning and has some intense separation anxiety - which no one would ever know because he’d rather die than show just how much he misses his S/O. Madara, paraphrasing John Mulany, stuffs all his feelings deep deep deep down, and he plans to die like that. He just doesn’t cope, and the longer they’re apart the grumpier he gets. He pouts when alone, almost - but not quite - spaces out during meals, and busies himself with the finer details of cleaning equipment. Anything to shake the creeping dread that digs up his spine. Around his S/O’s return, he presses kisses to the nap of his S/O’s neck, just at their hairline, when they’re finally alone; if still around people, Madara has a habit of watching their neck and mouth, but says nothing that gives himself away.

Obito

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

Going under the assumption that he has an S/O during the canon timeline? It’s not the sweetest confession in the world. He’s very to the point: his S/O is his. I can’t ever see him saying the world love, even if his body language expresses it loud and clear. He’ll run his fingers over their cheeks, press his forehead to their’s, and his stare? His stare could peel wallpaper, kill, and undress his S/O all at the same time. He’s just real intense and tongue tied at the same time.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

As a kid? Obito is painfully obvious. As an adult with all the maladjusted neurosis boiling under that hood of his? It’s not at all obvious. Obito is a busy man, what with the stirring of many pots and scheming and LARPing as Tobi, local terrorist cell’s local idiot. If he does show his love for his S/O, it’s like a leaking faucet; he doesn’t mean to touch their hand with the back of his, but he does it anyway. He doesn’t mean to look at them as they retreat from a meeting, but he does. It’s the little, tender things that hemorrhage from his cold half dead little heart.

Bonus: if this is a post ‘canon’ au where Obito lives and is the weird, kind of unstable, under house arrest for international dream crimes uncle of the Boruto gen, I can see him being much more open. Super clingy - prone to mood swings where he can become his old, cold self, but that’s just the package deal - a little pouty, and incredibly sweet on his S/O. He’s all hugs when they gets home, his hand pressed firmly to their lower back as they walk the village (probably breaking all kinds of rules in the process) and way more inclined to agree with you or go along with your plans. Everyone knows he’s his S/O’s man because he’s proud and loud about it.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Their relationship is deeply important to Obito. I would say in terms of importance, only the moon’s eye plan trumps his S/O - how he reconciles with these two deeply potentially conflicting facts? He doesn’t. He just assumes they’re on board. Other than that, he will put his partner above everything and everyone else, with an emphasis on their physical safety.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Dominate, even in a post-canon-I’m-alive! AU. Obito has an unhealthy relationship with control, and while he’s not one to want to dominate his S/O’s will, he would almost expect his S/O to follow his lead.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Very very romantic and cliche, although Obito reigns in his more dreamy impulses (flowers or picnics, stuff he daydreamed about as a kid) well. His direct displays of affection or ‘dates’ are few and far in between, and very lowkey. He’ll bring his S/O something he’ll know they like - a string of dried flowers grown only in a particular a temple from the land of Fire, a polished, perfectly oval turquoise rock from the land of Wind. He’ll mail them to his S/O or, more likely, leave these little gifts in places he knows they’ll find them. His idea of a good time, of a happy time with his S/O, is quiet nights where plans and identities are put aside, and they can rest or talk about nothing or go for a simple walk. His biggest daydream he still toys with as an adult is getting caught in the rain and kissing his S/O while they’re both soaked.

Zetsu

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Well Zetsu is an alien prince(?), and a plant, and generally kind of weird. That being said, I think he’s very upfront about his S/O and their relationship! There’s definitely a gap in time where he talks nonstop about his S/O and uses any chance to bring them up. Obito toys with the idea of offing them just to get him to shut up. In terms of kissing or physical affection in front of others though? He’s a nervous wreck/directly dismisses the idea.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

Honestly, I feel like his S/O would have to confess to him, rather than the other way around. They casually mention liking him, he scoffs, only for them to insist, and it ends with a very vaguely embarrassed plant ‘accepting’ their feelings.

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

What can you do with a plant man? Probably spying, or exploring various places - he isn’t particularly in awe of nature like Kisame, but he likes the quiet and having his S/O all to himself. I can see him liking cards, too.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

‘Babe’ comes to mind - he doesn’t quite get the whole ‘affectionate nickname’ thing humans do, but he likes the sound of babe in particular.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Nope! Zetsu is just happy to have his S/O present, even if they’re presumably just another human who eventually will be swept away in his mother’s plans. He still loves them, and he’s willing to do whatever they’d like in the time they have together.

#obito uchiha #sasori #kakashi hatake #madara uchiha #kisame #zetsu #naruto imagines #obito x reader #sasori x reader #kakashi x oc #madara x reader #kisame x reader #deidara x reader #deidara #zetsu x reAder #fluff alphabet

[aquietwritingcorner]

Embers of Revelation

Author: RealityBreakGirl/aquietlearningcorner Word Count: 11883 Rating: T Prompt: FMA Big Bang 2021 Warnings: Child abuse/neglect Characters: Riza Hawkeye, Roy Mustang, Jean Havoc, Heymans Breda, Vato Falman, Kain Fuery, Black Hayate Pairing: Royai Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Family Chapter: 4 of 7 Summary: Tasked by Fuhrer Grumman to investigate a suspected alchemic incident, General Mustang’s team finds themselves stranded in Hawkeye’s hometown. Needing a place to stay, they find themselves taking shelter in her childhood home. However, her past can’t stay buried there, and as revelations come to light, they also bring embers of danger with them. Sequel to Embers in a Wounded Heart AO3 || ff.net

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Chapter 4

The next few days continued in a similar vein, with steady rain, but with no lightning storms. Just buckets of rain falling each day. How this was happening and how the storms hadn’t rained themselves out yet, no one really knew. It just rained constantly, and everything was getting flooded and soggy.

Everyone stuck pretty close around the house and to each other until, once again, they were running low on supplies. A trip to town would have to be made, pulling the cart and walking in the rain and mud. No one really wanted to do it, and so they had stretched their supplies to nearly their limit, before even Hawkeye said that there wasn’t going to be much else, she could do with the food they had. Reluctantly, they had made plans to go into town to check on things and replenish their supplies.

Mustang was going to go, of course, because he needed to make some phone calls into Headquarters to report in, and see just what was going on, Havoc was sure. Falman was, as expected, anxious to see if there were any archives in town where he might find more information on Hawkeye’s house. He was certain that there had to be an entrance somewhere, he just had to find it. To no one’s surprise, Breda was going because he said he was going stir crazy being locked up in the house all of the time, and getting out, even if it meant getting wet and muddy all over again, was preferable to staying put when the opportunity to go presented itself. Havoc hoped he still felt that way when he was busy demucking his boots.

The rain had actually slowed down a little bit, and Fuery felt safe enough with that and the lack of thunder and lightning for the past few days, to work on connecting the phone line. He thought about going with everyone else, but this seemed like a better use of his time, and Havoc found he couldn’t argue with that. Havoc’s legs were still hurting him, and he honestly didn’t want to walk all the way into town at the moment, so he volunteered to stay behind with Fuery. Hawkeye frowned at that and decided that it would be a good idea if she stayed behind, if Fuery was going to be up on the roof working, and Havoc was going to be in the house. She could keep an eye on both of them and help out if needed.

The plan was agreed upon, even if Havoc could see that Mustang didn’t exactly look thrilled with leaving Hawkeye behind. After last time, everyone wanted to be more careful, something that everyone could agree with. They had all stayed armed since that day, Havoc making sure he had a backup gun on him too. Hawkeye was, of course, armed the most out of all of them, to no one’s surprise. They were about as safe as they could be. Still, Havoc kept watch on Hawkeye, especially after the other left.

Hawkeye and Fuery got straight to work, Hawkeye showing Fuery the best route to get to the roof and told him of the sturdiest trees if he needed them. Wanting to make himself useful. Havoc went to work in the laundry room, taking care of the clothes that were in there, figuring even if his legs were hurting him, he could still do something. He could hear Hawkeye working on cleaning, apparently still having standards for this old place, although he had no idea why.

For a few hours everything seemed to go well. They all worked on their own thing, Hawkeye going out every so often to check on Fuery. The rain seemed a little lighter than it had been, giving them, all hope that it would ease up soon. Havoc wasn’t sure if the sun he saw was real, or wishful thinking, but he definitely wanted things to dry out so repairs could be made, and they could get out of here.

It was fairly quiet, the light rain pattering, and the radio playing softly when suddenly Havoc heard what sounded like a cry and then the sound of something crashing down. His eyes widened and he rushed out of the laundry room, Hawkeye just a little bit ahead of him. They both bolted out of the door and looked around, until Hawkeye cried out “Fuery!” and started at a dead run, Havoc hot on her heels.

Fuery was laying on the ground, not moving, an arm clearly not laying right. They rushed up to him, Havoc’s heart clenching as he feared the worst. Riza knelt by him, headless of the muddy ground and felt for a pulse.

“He’s alive,” she said, “and he’s breathing. That arm is definitely broken.”

Havoc looked up. The tree above them had a few broken branches and he could see rips from Fuery’s clothes on them. “Looks like he tried to catch himself, or at least slow his fall.”

“It probably saved his life,” she said. “that’s not a small fall.” She was running her hands over him, checking him over. “I don’t think there’s any damage, but we still need to be careful. We need to get him inside out of this rain.”

“Alright,” Havoc said. “Where to?”

“The couch. It’s the closest and I don’t want to risk stairs,” Hawkeye said.  “We need to do our best to make sure that his neck and back stay straight. The ironing board. Go get it.”

“Right,” Havoc said, and took of inside after it, returning only moments later with the stiff board in tow.

Following Hawkeye’s directions, they worked together to roll Fuery into the board and get him inside the house and to the couch. The man didn’t stir while they moved him, which was more than a little worrying to Havoc. He headed after the first aid supplies, Hawkeye telling him exactly where they were. Of all the people on the team, she had the best medical skills, and he stood ready to assist. She checked Fuery’s eyes, kept a watch on his pulse, and splinted his arm as best she could. But it was clear to Havoc that she was still worried about him.

“He needs the doctor, but we don’t need to move him.” She looked up at Havoc. “You need to go to town, get the doctor, and get the others.”

“Will you be alright?” he asked, skipping past the part where he protested leaving her alone and she reassured him that she would be alright, and he mentioned that Mustang wouldn’t like it, and she countered with Fuery’s life being on the line. They all knew where that argument would end, and there was no reason to even start it. It was better to just move on to the practical.

“I’m armed,” she said. “I have at least three guns on me at all times, you know that. You’re the fastest of us, and I have the most medical experience. Take Hayate with you as extra protection and go—we have no way of knowing if Fuery has any internal injuries.”

“Right,” Havoc said, serious. He reached to make sure he was armed, called the little dog with him, and headed off like a shot for town.

Havoc had always been the fastest on the team. His long legs helped him out a great deal, and he could take long, lopping strides. He was good at sprints, and he was good at long distance. That had, of course, changed, when Lust had stabbed him through the spine, but ever since regaining the use of his legs, he had been working on building it back again. He had gotten quite a bit better. He wasn’t sure if he could beat Hawkeye right now or not, but what he did know was that she was the best bet to be with Fuery if something went wrong.

So, Havoc ran, headless of the mud, Hayate at his side and his gun in his hand, towards town and the doctor.

He had no idea what the others had found in town, or what he had just left his teammates too.

A soldier running into town, mud all up his uniform, with a dog at his side was sure to gain a few looks, especially when he was clearly heading somewhere with a purpose, but Havoc paid the townspeople no mind. He remembered where the clinic he had seen was, and headed towards it, passing my old Mr. Nelson who tried to wave him down. He ignored him, instead heading straight for the clinic and pretty much bursting in the door. There were a man and a woman in there who looked up at him in surprise. Havoc leaned heavily on the door, soaking wet, muddy, and with an equally wet and even muddier dog by his side.

“Need… your help, Doc…” he said, gasping for breath. He really needed to lay off the cigarettes more. “Man fell… from roof. Unconscious…. The Hawkeye place…”

The doctor wasted no time in grabbing his coat and hat, taking his bag, and telling the nurse to bring the wagon after him, just in case. He was clearly taking his horse, and he wasn’t going to wait on anyone, which was fine by Havoc.

“You can ride back with me,” the nurse said. “We’ll get there quickly. The buggy is made for quick travel.”

He nodded. “Fine by me.” He was still out of breath.

“I’ll go prepare it,” she said, grabbing her own coat and bonnet and heading out the back door.

Havoc stood there, panting, and felt about ready to just sit down where he was, when a hand landed heavy on his shoulder, and he jumped. It was Mustang, which explained why Hayate didn’t make any noise, and he was looking at Havoc with concern and alarm.

“What’s happened?” he said.

“Fuery fell… off the roof, sir.” He said, still panting. “Hawkeye sent me for help.”

Mustang’s eyes widened. “His condition?”

“Unconscious. We got him inside. Arm’s busted.” Havoc said.

Before more could be said, Breda and Falman came hurrying up to them.

“What’s going on?” Breda asked, knowing that something had to have happened for Havoc to be there looking as out of breath and muddy as he was.

“Fuery fell off the roof,” Mustang said. “Hawkeye sent Havoc for help.”

Both Breda and Falman looked alarmed.

“Doc’s on his way…” Havoc said, just starting to regain his breath. “The nurse said we could ride in the wagon with her.”

“You might want to get a horse instead, sir,” Breda said. “Falman discovered something.”

“I looked through the archives that they kept at the library,” Falman explained, “and the archives at city hall. There was an outside cellar door there at one time. Right here, near where the man that the captain hired showed us the strange marks.”

“Wait—” Mustang said. “You mean there might be a way in there? And if whoever it was stole the papers from the file, that means they either want information or are trying to keep it from getting out. And—”

“And Hawkeye’s there, all alone with an injured Fuery.” Havoc finished.

Breda cursed, but Mustang didn’t even waste the time. He headed off towards the livery stable, and Breda rushed after him. Havoc moved to, but stumbled, Falman barely catching him.

“Whoa—you alright, Havoc?” he asked.

Havoc cursed. “I’ve pushed myself too far.” He shook his head. “No, go. I’ll catch up on the wagon.”

Falman shook his head. “We’ll catch up on the wagon,” he said, already hearing it coming around the corner. “And if we need to, we’ll pick up Breda and the General too.”

The nurse let them both climb aboard, as well as Hayate, and headed out of town as quickly as she dared. Breda and Mustang were only a little way in front of them having gotten horses. Breda fell back to ride alongside them for a moment, telling them that Mustang was going to go on ahead of the wagon and try to catch up with the doctor in case something was wrong. Breda was going to do his best to catch up to the General. Falman and Havoc would be the backup that came a little bit behind them. Both men nodded. They understood. Breda asked the nurse, who was still driving the buggy at astonishing speeds, if she was alright with this.

“I’m a nurse,” she snapped back at him. “My job is to save lives, and there’s a life that needs saving there—maybe more than one when this is all over. I’m going.”

Breda nodded, and then sped up, chasing after Mustang.

Although the buggy was going at a good pace, it was still a buggy and it took longer than a horse. Havoc wished he had some way to make it faster, but he didn’t. All he could do was hold on and wait. He rubbed his legs, trying to work any cramps in them out. He was determined to be at his top game, or at least as close as he could be.

When they rolled up to the house, the front door was open, prompting both he and Falman to unholster their guns. The doctor’s horse was tied to a post, but Mustang and Breda’s horses were loose in the yard. Falman jumped down out of the wagon before it came to a stop, and Havoc wasn’t far behind him. “Stay here,” he said to the nurse, “until you’re given the all clear.”

“Right,” she said, keeping a grip on the reigns.

Havoc hurried in the door, not hearing any shots, or shouts, but kept his gun at the ready. When he came inside, though, what he heard was Fuery’s voice. He made his way into the living room where he saw the doctor near a slumped shape on the floor. Mustang and the others were gathered around it, listening.

“I’m sorry, sir…” Fuery was saying. “I tried… he came in here… out of nowhere. He threw something at Hawkeye… it smelled sweet. I think it was a gas or something.” His breath hitched in pain. “She tried to fight, but it got to her… I tried… I tried to stop him… I’m sorry. I couldn’t get any further. I’m sorry!”

“Which way did they go?” Mustang asked, a growl in his voice.

“…out the back…”

Mustang wasted no more time, up and heading out the door.

Havoc followed, calling back. “Falman, tell the nurse to come in here! Stay with them!” he said. He followed right behind Mustang, who had stopped at the backdoor, looking around.

“Where did they go?” he growled out, his eyes scouring the ground.

It took Havoc a moment to realize it, but it had stopped raining, and that would, hopefully, make it easier to track them. If Hawkeye was even a little bit conscious, she would be fighting for all that she was worth. Riza was a fighter, after all.

Hayate nosed at Havoc’s knees, and Havoc got an idea. “Breda—go grab something of Hawk’s. Hurry!” he said.

Breda, who had just come out to join them turned headed straight back into the house, coming out nearly immediately with something from the washroom. Havoc took it and knelt down, holding it out to Hayate. “Hayate—track” he said. “Find her. Find Hawkeye.”

Hayate snapped to attention, sniffed the piece of clothing, and immediately turned to track. Within a second, he had her scent, it seemed. He sniffed around a little more, and then headed off in a particular direction, clearly on the trail of something.

“I hope this works,” Breda muttered.

“It will,” Havoc said, stuffing the pieces of clothing in his pocket. “She’s not been out long, and the rain would have taken care of other scents. Whatever he’s got now, it’s got to be recent.”

“Let’s move!” Mustang snapped out. His gloves were already on, and he was clearly ready to fry whoever it was that took Hawkeye.

Havoc couldn’t really blame him.

As Hayate started hurrying along, Havoc could see signs someone of coming through—and signs of a struggle. Hawkeye, as predicted, clearly wasn’t just giving in. But there wasn’t as much struggle as he expected to see, and that worried him.

It worried him more when they came across a place where they found her guns lying on the ground. Mustang cursed but bent to pick them up. “Hurry,” he said. “We don’t know how far he went or how much of a head start he has on us!”

And we don’t know Hawkeye’s condition. That was the unsaid but prominent thought in all of their heads.

They went through a patch of woods, where the signs of a struggle were easier to see. Hayate moved faster than they did through the underbrush and the bushes, but the three men forged through, trying to make their way through the woods and keep up with the little dog. He was focused in on tracking Riza down, and Havoc couldn’t blame him. He loved her just as much as they did, that was for sure.

Finally, they emerged into a clearing, and almost immediately, Havoc spotted her. She was being half-drug across a field full of grass and marshy-looking land. The man who had her was pulling harshly on her, trying to tug her through the muddy land. Hawkeye was clearly not herself, not doing any actual fighting as much as basic resisting. If she was completely with it, the man clearly wouldn’t have had any chance at all. But he must have drugged her like Fuery said, because she wasn’t fighting to the fullest extent of her ability.

He had one of her arms thrown over his shoulders, and a hand around her waist, gripping her belt. He was trying to pull her along with him, but she was stumbling and throwing them off balance. He hauled on her, trying to get her to come along with him, and she resisted, managing to half wrench free from him. He kept a hold of her arm, but finally fed up, he backhanded her across the face, hard. She dropped, limp, at the same time Mustang roared out her rank.

“Captain!”

Breda cursed beside Havoc, drawing his gun, and Havoc whipped up the rifle he had picked up in the washroom earlier. Surprisingly, Mustang didn’t do anything but tense up. The man—his hood had fallen away now—looked up at them in shock, revealing himself to be the groundskeeper that Riza had hired to look after the place. He ducked down into the grass even as Breda fired off a shot. The grass was tall, and it hid him and Hawkeye both from view.

“Why didn’t you hit him with fire?” Breda asked, all of them tense as they tried to watch for any sign of the man, Johnson, or of Riza. It was too risky to try to shoot at them without knowing if they were going to hit Hawkeye.

“I can’t,” Mustang said. “This area is swampy. There’re gasses under the surface that don’t react well to fire. The rain’s helped to bring them up. They’re in the air, and an explosion would not be a good thing.”

Havoc winced at that. No, that wouldn’t be a good thing. The ground was saturated, and everything was soaked, but an explosion was an explosion, and it wouldn’t be a good thing at all. It could just as easily hurt Hawkeye or come back and hurt them.

“What about some of that Elric-type action?” Breda asked. “Make the ground move or push the ground up or something?”

“Between the water table being too high right now and the trapped gasses, it’s too risky.” Mustang said.

Their options limited, they all fell quiet listening for any sort of clue as to where the two might be. There were small movements in the grass, and Havoc kept an eye on them, looking through the scope of the rifle to try to get a better view.

“Do I have your permission to shoot if I see something?” he asked quietly.

“Granted,” Mustang said just as quietly

They waited, and nothing happened. Just the wind blowing through the wet grasses. Finally, tired of it, Mustang called out. “Johnson! We know you’re there! Come out! Let the captain go!”

There was a little movement, and Havoc shot near it. The grass near it suddenly skittered away and then there was nothing for a few seconds, at least until Johnson suddenly popped up, Riza held tightly to him, a knife at her neck. She only looked partially aware, and all of the men tensed.

“Don’t make another move!” Johnson said. “If you do, I’ll kill her!”

Riza was just with it enough to bring her hands up to his to try to pull them away, but not able to get any strength to them. Through his scope, Havoc had a good look at her face, and he could see the terror in her eyes. He wanted nothing more than to shoot Johnson right then and there, but he wasn’t as good a shot as Hawkeye was, and he wasn’t sure he could avoid hitting her, especially if Johnson moved.

“Let her go,” Mustang said, “and surrender. If you do that, this will all go better for you.”

“No,” he said, gritting his teeth. “She’s my ticket into what I need. Or at least, her back is.”

Havoc cursed.

“So, I’m not going to let her go!” Johnson continued.

“Hey—where’s the mutt?” Breda muttered, but Havoc didn’t have time to think about where Hayate was now.

He glanced over at Mustang, who looked both horrified and incensed.

“How does he know that?” Havoc asked, unsettled by this knowledge.

“…He must have heard the story,” Mustang said. “He was in the house then! And none of us realized it.” There was anger and loathing in Mustang’s voice, but it was clear that he was not going to focus on it now. Instead, he kept his eyes fully fixed on Hawkeye and Johnson.

“If you do anything to her,” Mustang called out. “I promise, you’ll get an up-close demonstration of Flame Alchemy.” It was clearly a threat, and one that anyone with any sort of sense would be able to see Mustang was ready to act on. This was no bluff.

Johnson shook his head, already starting to back away. “No. This is what we’ve been looking for! The key! The key to it all—and you’ve had her right by your side this entire time! We knew she had to be connected somehow, considering who her father was, but we never dreamed that she was the key to the whole thing! Just imagine, you had the source of flame alchemy right next to you! And there’s more isn’t there? There’s something more to this that you’re not telling. Not that it matters. With what her back will tell us, we’ll be able to reconstruct everything fully and once we do, the full power of flame alchemy will be ours! And I’ll have brought it. I’ll have brought the key! It will be all because of me!”

The man was clearly cracked, but he was letting out some important information too. “We,” “us,” words like that, that were pluralled. He was part of some sort of group. And it appeared to be a group that was after flame alchemy. Havoc guessed they had been pursing it for a while, trying to find the key to the power and going through Riza to do it. Chances were, he wasn’t someone very high ranking. But this was going to definitely put him on the map, and he was banking on that.

Unfortunately for him, they weren’t going to let him do that. Not only was Mustang ready to take him down, but after seeing Hawkeye’s breakdown and the lengths she had gone to, to ensure that no one was ever a flame alchemist again, at least not by her father’s work, or her own hand, neither Breda nor Havoc were willing to let this happen either.

That was about the time that Havoc realized that there was movement coming up behind Johnson, and he remembered Breda’s comment asking where Hayate was. Hayate was a trained military dog, and highly loyal to Riza. This man was clearly threatening Riza. It seemed that the little dog had decided to take matters into his own hands, or paws as it was.

Or, perhaps more accurately, into his own teeth.

Johnson was still waxing on about how he was going to be praised for bring the key to flame alchemy to whatever this group was when Hayate burst out of the grass, jumping in a high leap straight for the arm that held the knife. His teeth sunk into the man’s arm, and the man screamed in pain. It loosened his grip on Riza just enough for her to manage to slip away, although she did little more than fall that they could see.

Johnson was trying to shake and beat Hayate off of him, and that was when Havoc took his shot. It wasn’t a clean one, but it did manage to get Johnson in the shoulder. He jerked back, and Hayate let go, his growls clearly heard. The three men rushed forward. Johnson, panicked and injured, took off, fleeing the scene.

All of them wanted to pursue, but Riza was their top priority now. They rushed to her location, where she was collapsed in the mud, her face half-buried in it, trying to sit up. Mustang lifted her out of it, brushing the mud away from her face, getting it out of her nose and mouth so she could breathe better, and wiping it away from her eyes. It was mostly covered by the smell of the mud, but the scent of some sort of chloroform or the like could be sensed under it.

“Riza! Riza!” Mustang was holding her now, Breda standing guard over them while Havoc canvased the area to try to make sure that Johnson wasn’t going to pop back up.

“Want us to run him down?” Havoc asked.

Mustang shook his head. “No. I don’t want to send one of you alone, and we need to get Hawkeye back to the house. We’ll have to go after him later.”

“How is she?” Breda asked.

Havoc risked a quick glance back. Her eyes were fuzzy and not focused well, but her gaze was on Mustang, and it hadn’t left. There was deep emotion in her eyes, and it looked to Havoc that a large part of it was fear. No, they couldn’t just leave her here with one of them while two went looking for this guy. He was too dangerous. They needed to make sure that she was protected, especially after everything that he had said, even though that was also a problem.

“I’m not sure,” he said. “Let’s get her back to the house, have the doctor check her over, and head into town. We’ll get the sheriff and then go after Johnson.”

“Right,” Breda said. He holstered his gun. “Here. Put her on my back and we’ll get going.”

Carefully Mustang and Breda maneuvered the half-conscious Hawkeye onto Breda’s back while Havoc kept his gun at the ready, covering them. Then, once she was settled and Breda had a good grip on her, they set out back towards the house at as quick a pace as possible. Havoc kept his gun at the ready, and Mustang his gloves, but they didn’t encounter any problems as they traveled.

As they drew closer to the house, Havoc could see a few men gathered around it, most of them armed. Not sure what they’d just come back into, Havoc stood ready with his rifle, just in case, even as Breda and Mustang tensed as well. But one of the men turned and, seeing them, waved at them calling to them.

“Mustang! Do you have Riza?” the man called.

“Thompson?” Mustang said in surprise.

“Yeah. Saw Doc riding out towards this place, and then you and your men after. Figured something was up, so I got some of the men together and we rode out here.” Thompson said.

Mustang had kept moving, so Breda and Havoc had as well, heading straight for the house. Thompson met up with them, opening the door so that Breda could carry Hawkeye inside.

“Good. We’re going to need your help,” Mustang said without preamble

“Whatever we can do,” Thompson said.

Another man directed them towards the living room. “Doc’s in there. She hurt bad?”

“Dunno,” Breda said.

“Up the stairs,” the doctor had appeared. “I’ll look her over in her bedroom.”

Breda headed up the stairs with Hawkeye, but Mustang stopped to talk to Thompson, and Havoc stayed close.

“Do you know Bennett Johnson?” Mustang asked

Thompson nodded. “Yeah. Squirrely guy. New. Doesn’t talk much.”

“He’s been stalking us in this house. He’s gotten some information that he shouldn’t have and found out some personal information about Hawkeye.”

“And that’s why he kidnapped her, got it,” Thompson said.

“We need to stop him,” Mustang said. “He indicated that he was working with someone else. We need to get to him before he can get that information out.”

Thompson was nodding. “We can get some men out to his place. But it didn’t look like you were coming from the direction of his place.”

“Where does he live?” Mustang questioned.

“The old Steadman place,” Thompson said. “It was up for sale, and he took it.”

“The Steadman place is in the opposite direction,” Mustang said. “He must have another place somewhere he uses as well.”

“I’ll send Dave Macken back to town to get the sheriff and some other men. The rest of us will accompany you and your men to see if we can’t track him down,” Thompson said. “John Stitue and Bert Oslow can stay here in case he doubles back.”

Mustang nodded. “Just be warned, we’re pretty sure he had an interest in alchemy and may already be familiar with some forms of it.”

“Gotcha. Let me tell the others.” Thompson said.

He turned to leave, and before Havoc could ask anything of Mustang—or comment on how well Mustang seemed to know the area—Mustang was already moving on to the next order of business.

“Falman!” Mustang called out.

“Sir!” Falman replied.

“Stay here. Hold the fort. Keep an eye on Fuery and Hawkeye. Breda!”

Breda was already coming down the stairs. “Yes sir!” he responded.

“You and Havoc, you’re coming with me.”

“Yes, sir!” both Havoc and Breda responded.

Havoc desperately wanted to know how Fuery was doing, and an update on Hawkeye, but there was no time for that. It was too important for them to find Johnson and stop him. Within minutes they were heading out, Thompson already having instructed the other men. He and a group were ready to head off with all of them, and Havoc welcomed the back up. Mustang took point, Hayate still with them. The little dog was clearly ready to work, and clearly angry that Hawkeye had been wounded. Breda kept giving the dog the side eye, but Hayate only seemed concerned with staying by Mustang’s side.

Mustang didn’t even stop to see who all was there. “This way,” he said, and led the way. Havoc and Breda were right behind him, and the men of the town followed. There were about fifteen all together, and they all headed off in the direction that Johnson had gone: Back across the field, through the patch of forest, and into the other field.

“I forgot how much land the Hawkeyes owned,” Thompson said.

“This is all still the captain’s land?” Breda asked.

“If you mean Riza Hawkeye, then yeah,” Thompson said. “Her family has been here for generations. They were really prominent once, owned most of the stuff around here. But over the years they declined. Most things have fell into ruin, but none of them ever sold any of their land. Looking back at it now, I have no idea why Berthold didn’t sell parts of it. It would have more than kept him and Riza fed and in good money.”

“Because he was a neglectful, abusive man,” Mustang said, “and all of us were too stupid to really realize it until we were grown.”

The men in the group fell silent for a minute, until Thompson finally responded with a “…yeah. I guess that’s true,” and Havoc had to wonder at the backstory there.

They stopped in the middle of the field, right where they had rescued Hawkeye. “He got this far before we managed to catch up with him,” Mustang said. “Any idea where he might have gone?”

The men murmured among themselves, and a few ideas were thrown out, but no one seemed to have any sort of solid ideas. Most of them were discarded fairly quickly, especially considering that a lot of the land around here still was Hawkeye property and there was no one who really knew much about it, as it had been private for years.

“This is useful,” Breda muttered.

“Whatcha gonna do, Boss?” Havoc asked.

Mustang knelt down next to Hayate. “Hayate,” he said. “Attention.”

The little dog barked and stood straight and stiff, still and ready to take a command.

“Track.” He said. “Enemy. Find.”

Hayate gave a bark and began to sniff around.

“Ya sure this is gonna work, Mustang?” one of the men said. “He doesn’t look like a tracking dog.”

“Yeah, and the ground is saturated,” another pointed out.

“Black Hayate is a highly trained and decorated military animal,” Mustang said. “Captain Hawkeye trained him herself, according to military standards, and he passed top of all time. On top of that, he’s extremely loyal, and Johnson hurt Hawkeye, his owner. He’s determined. He’ll find him, if it’s possible.”

Hayate let out a little bark, as if to prove Mustang right, and headed off through the grass. The men followed behind, trailing slowly behind the pup until he seemed to catch something stronger. Then the pup gave another bark, and took off, the men hurrying after him as fast as they could. He seemed to have something hot, at least if Havoc’s experience with tracking dogs meant anything, following it around across the rest of the field, and then through more woods until finally they came to a small clearing where a small cabin stood.

Havoc didn’t like the looks of it. It was ramshackle and didn’t look terribly sturdy, but it was definitely defensible, and that possibility was a problem. Hayate had stopped just before the clearing, and the men all crouched in the bushes there too. Thompson looked at Mustang. “Alright—you’re the military man here. What’s the plan?”

Mustang was looking at the shack. “Havoc,” he said.

“Sir?” Havoc responded.

“Get around to the side. Get in a good position to be able to take him out if he comes out and it’s needed.” Mustang said. He looked at Thompson. “You got any who could do the same from the other side?”

“Yeah,” Thompson nodded. “Ersist, Neason, Ford, Caspian—you guys surround it too.”

Four men nodded.

“You’ve all got a minute to get into place,” Mustang said.

“Yes, sir,” Havoc said, and he headed out, the other men taking off as well. Havoc found himself a good place and got settled in and made sure that he spotted the others so as not to catch them in any crossfire. Then, he waited.

Mustang and Breda stepped forward.

“Bennett Johnson!” Mustang called out. “Come out and surrender peaceably! We know that you’re in there!”

There was a beat and then—

The ground rose up and came straight at Mustang.

Havoc kept his eye on the doorway, but out of the corner of his eye he watched. Mustang didn’t even flinch, he just clapped his hands, knelt, and a wall of his own rose in return, overwhelming and stopping the ground that had just been sent out. He clapped his hands again, and the ground went down.

“You think your second-rate alchemy can stand against mine?” he said. “Don’t kid yourself. Come out before you get yourself killed.”

The door slammed open, and Johnson came out, gun at the ready. Mustang snapped, and the air in front of Johnson exploded, sending him flying back. Havoc moved, Breda moving at the same time, the other men a beat behind them. Breda slammed into Johnson, slamming him into the ground and pinning him to it. Havoc joined in, holding him to the ground. Someone shoved some rope in their faces, and they quickly worked to tie Johnson up. The man was screaming at them the whole time, demanding, insisting that they would fall, and state alchemists would fall the farthest.

“Shut up!” Breda snapped at him, handing him over to the men who pulled him out of the cabin. He looked up at the cabin then and froze. “Boss,” he said. “You wanna get in here.”

Havoc looked up and his jaw dropped. All over were reports and instances of alchemy, with a focus on flame alchemy. Pictures, reports, all sorts of information that he couldn’t begin to understand were all over the walls. All of it was related to Alchemy, that much was clear to see.

Mustang stepped in, looked around and frowned, eyes narrowing. He clearly wasn’t happy about this, and Havoc could understand why. But he didn’t say anything else, not with all of the civilians around. Thompson walked in and looked around, whistling.

“Woah. You weren’t kidding about him,” he said.

Mustang turned abruptly around, clearly blocking Thompsons’s view. Thompson, for his part, didn’t try to see around him, understanding that he wasn’t supposed to see what was there.

“I need something else from you,” Mustang said. “From someone you can trust.”

Thompson nodded. “You need someone to guard this place,” he said. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. And we’ll get this guy to the sheriff too.” He put a hand on Mustang’s shoulder. “You wanna get back to Riza, I know.”

“I have lots of responsibilities,” Mustang said. “This is one of them. But if it can be guarded then we can come back and properly look through it. Especially when we’re… less muddy.”

Havoc glanced down at himself, at the mud on his boots, pants, and even shirt, and then looked at the others. They were all covered in mud.

“Right,” Thompson said, looking back up from his own muddy clothes. “That makes sense. I’ll take care of it. Seriously, Roy, go check on her.”

Mustang gave him a nod. “Breda. Can you stay?”

“I’ll secure it,” he said. “You two go on back.”

“I’ll take care of making sure Johnson gets to town,” Havoc said, knowing that it was something else Mustang would be concerned about.

He seemed a bit relieved and nodded. “Alright. When you’re both finished, report back to the house.”

“Right.”

“Got it.”

They left the shack, Havoc stepping over towards the men who had Johnson while Breda started talking to the other men about some items he needed. Havoc watched for a moment as Thompson took a second to talk to the other men, and then he and Mustang both headed back towards the house.

The rest of the men split up, and Havoc walked with the group that was heading towards town with Johnson. It was quite a long walk back from where they were, especially if they wanted to take the paths and roads and not just cut through the land itself, which would make everything more muddy and more difficult. Johnson kept trying to resist and kept talking most of the way. Eventually he stopped both, seemingly growing tired, and apparently figuring out that it would be better for him to shut up rather than to keep talking and give away more information. Havoc was grateful not to hear his crazy rantings anymore, but it was too bad that there wasn’t more intel to easily grab from the guy.

The Sherriff had made his way out to the Hawkeye place by the time Havoc and the other men got to town, but one of his deputies was in. He took official custody of Johnson, locking him in the jail and using the dusty and obviously not often used handcuffs that would keep an alchemist from doing alchemy. Satisfied, Havoc left him there, intending to head back to Hawkeye’s house. His legs were absolutely killing him by this point, though, and so he sat down on some crates for a moment to rub them.

“Hey, son, are you about to make your way back to the Hawkeye place?” a voice called out to him.

Havoc looked up to see Mr. Nelson standing there and gave him a grin. “Yeah, just taking a breather.” He looked at his legs ruefully. “Just an old injury acting up. The past few days have been hard on it.”

Mr. Nelson nodded. “I understand. Well, you’re welcome t’ ride with us. The Misses is insistin’ on takin’ some food over there and checkin’ on everyone. We’re gonna take some supplies, too. I’m sure you’re all runnin’ low.”

Havoc nodded. “I’d be much obliged, sir, to ride with you and your wife.”

“Good. Give us ‘bout ten more minutes. Come inside the store ‘nd have some coffee while you wait.” Mr. Nelson said.

Havoc got up, albeit a bit painfully now that he had sat down and followed Mr. Nelson into the store. He followed his directions back to the home behind it where Mrs. Nelson was in the kitchen, bustling around, packing up dishes. She smiled when she saw Havoc, waved him to a seat, an in a matter of moments had a cup of coffee sitting in front of him before she went back to packing up the food.

“Can I help you?” he asked her.

Mrs. Nelson waved it off. “No, no, dear, you just rest up. I saw you come runnin’ into town earlier, heard the hullabaloo that followed, saw the men running off, saw you come back. You need to rest. Just take a few minutes to rest your body, dear.”

Havoc knew a losing battle when he saw one, and so he acquiesced, watching her make her way about the kitchen. From the looks of it, he would just be in the way if he tried to help anyway. This was a woman who was a master of her kitchen, and to help her without knowledge of how she did things was to just be a hindrance.

They were ready to go within the promised ten minutes, and Havoc rode up with them while Mr. Nelson drove. He filled them in on the barest of details of what happened: How they had discovered that someone was sneaking into the home, how paperwork had gone missing, how Johnson had overheard sensitive information and personal information about Hawkeye, how Fuery had fallen off the roof, how Johnson had kidnapped Hawkeye in what they believed was an attempt to get more information, how they had rescued her and then gone after Johnson, how they had captured him and found his hideout with information in it they needed to go through, and how he helped to bring Johnson to town.

Mrs. Nelson just became more and more determined to look after everyone there as he spoke. Havoc could see it in her eyes. His own mother frequently got the same look in her eyes. Mr. Nelson’s jaw was set, clearly not happy about what had happened, and he had a few strong opinions about it.

When they pulled up to the house, it seemed to Havoc that more people were there. Havoc got down, anxious to check on everyone, but not sure at all what was happening here. Mr. and Mrs. Nelson shooed him on, saying they’d take care of what was in the wagon themselves.

Havoc made his way inside, where Mustang was talking with the Sherriff. Fuery, it seemed, was not in the living room anymore, and Hawkeye wasn’t there either. Falman wasn’t in the room, but Havoc could hear voices from out back that sounded like they were doing some sort of work. Breda was standing near Mustang and the sheriff, obviously back from securing the location. They turned to look at him. As he got closer.

“Havoc, report,” Mustang said.

“Got the prisoner back to the jail. Handed him over to one of the deputies who locked him up. He and a couple of others are going to process him, make sure he doesn’t have anything on him that’s dangerous.” Havoc said. “Mr. and Mrs. Nelson are also outside, about to bring some food and supplies in."

Mustang nodded. “Good. Breda’s got the location of the shack secure, and the sheriff has drafted some men to be guards. We’re also got guards around the house Johnson was living in.”

“Falman’s out back with some of the men, digging to see if they can find that entrance,” Breda said. “If they can, it’ll answer a lot of questions.”

Havoc nodded, and then his voice softened. “How are Hawkeye and Fuery?”

Mustang took a breath in and let it out, running a hand through his hair. “The doctor says that Fuery was lucky. It looks like he broke his arm in two places and has a concussion. It’s going to take some time to heal, but overall, he will recover. He wants to get him back to his practice, though, to give him a more thorough look over, just to be sure that there aren’t any problems with his neck and spine.”

Havoc nodded. That made sense. A fall like that could kill a man, easily. If Fuery walked away with only a broken arm and a concussion, then he was getting off easy. Havoc was, understandably, quite worried about Fuery’s back. He knew what it was not to have the use of his legs, and he didn’t want that for the young man. They were fresh out of philosopher’s stones to heal him with.

“As for Hawkeye, she’ll recover as well. She has a nasty bruise from where Johnson hit her face and swelling as well, and some other injuries from resisting. He used a powerful sedative on her, although it didn’t knock her out as much as he wanted it to. She’s going to be groggy from that for a while. She’s mostly got to sleep it off.” Mustang said, and there was a note of relief in his voice. “All in all, it looks like they’re both going to be fine.”

“That’s good to hear, sir,” Havoc said, although he knew that it didn’t touch half of what all of them were really concerned about. They had all seen how she had reacted to being in the basement. They all realized the lengths she went to, to keep her tattoo a secret. They all saw how much it had affected her to show it to them. And now a stranger had knowledge of it and had tried to kidnap her for it. That wasn’t going to put her in a good place emotionally or mentally. And, if her father had drugged her before to put on the tattoo, was this drugging in conjunction with getting the tattoos secrets going to leave her with some issues too?

Havoc wouldn’t doubt it.

“Do you mind if I got up to check on them?” he asked. “Or do you need me to do something?’

Mustang shook his head. “No, go on. It’ll be good for them.”

Havoc nodded and headed for the stairs, trying not to hobble up them. He could hear more voices up there, sounding like the doctor and the nurse, and maybe a few others too. Seeing as they seemed to be coming from Hawkeye’s room, he decided to check in on Fuery first and see how he was doing.

The young man was lying in a bed, his head and neck stabilized, and Havoc had an uncomfortable remembrance of that being done to him as well, before they knew for sure what was wrong with him. His eyes were closed, but his face was in pain, and he didn’t seem to be sleeping.

Havoc knocked lightly on the door frame. “Hey, Sarge, you awake?”

“Unfortunately,” came Fuery’s reply, and he opened his eyes to look at Havoc.

“How are you feeling?” Havoc asked him.

“Terrible, thanks,” Fuery replied. “My arm is killing me, my head is pounding, and my back hurts.”

“But you are feeling, right?” Havoc pressed.

Fuery opened his eyes again and focused on Havoc. Understanding dawned in the other man’s eyes.

“Yeah,” he said. “I feel everything. Hands, feet, arms, legs, all of it,” he said. “I definitely feel my broken arm.”

Havoc laughed “I bet you do,” he said, but he knew there was relief in his voice.

“Can you fill me in on what happened?” Fuery said, his voice going a bit soft. “No one will tell me anything—but I think that’s because most of them don’t have the information to tell me.”

“Sure thing, Sarge,” Havoc said, and he pulled up a stool alongside Fuery’s bed.

The younger man was still feeling guilty about not being able to do anything to really help Hawkeye, that much was obvious. He had risked injuring himself further by moving off of the couch to try to help her and stop the man, but he hadn’t been able to do anything about it, except point the others in the direction that she had been taken.

Havoc sat there and explained in detail what had gone down to Fuery. He was upset to hear how the man had hit Hawkeye, and the way that she had just gone down. He was, however, quite happy to hear that Hayate had gotten him, and that Havoc had shot the man in the shoulder. He was also glad to hear that Hawkeye was going to make a full recovery although he, like Havoc was clearly worried.

“And… how is she doing, sir?” Fuery asked, his voice soft.

Havoc glanced at the door, and then ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve not been in there to see her yet, but, even as strong as she is, this is going to be hard on her, I’m sure.”

Fuery frowned. “After what we found out and what she told us, I can’t help but be worried. It was like her worst fears coming true.”

Havoc nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “I can’t imagine that the drugging helped either.”

Fuery hummed. “Yeah, not when well, what she told us used to happen to her happened.”

Havoc let out a breath. “Something tells me it’ll be best to let the boss handle most of that one, but I think we’re still going to need to stand by her. We’ll need to prove to her that we’re still here too, and that we’ve got her back.”

“Yeah,” Fuery agreed. “I can’t imagine… It had to bring back some trauma.”

“You know it did,” he said. “And she’s carried it deep for a lot longer than we ever knew. Boss holds some guilt about it as well. So that’s where we’ll have to step in, to make sure they’re both not drowned in it.”

Fuery lifted up his good arm and held it out to Havoc. Havoc reached over, clasping it. “We’ll look after them both,” Fuery said. “That’s what a team is for.”

Havoc couldn’t help the determined grin that came over his face. “You know that’s true. That’s what we’re going to do.”

He stayed and chatted with Fuery for just a while longer, talking about what was coming next for Fuery. He knew that he was going to be transported back to the doctor’s office and that he was going to have other tests run on him to be sure that he wasn’t more injured than they realized. Fuery didn’t mind that so much, as he understood and really would rather be safe than sorry. But he also didn’t want to be away from everyone right now, concerned about Hawkeye and the whole situation.

Still, eventually the younger man did grow sleepy, the pain medicine that the doctor had given him trying to take over again. Fuery tried to fight it, but Havoc encouraged him not to. He needed all the rest that he could get, even if it was just his arm and head that were hurt. Fuery finally acquiesced, and Havoc left him falling asleep in that room.

Havoc made his way down the hall towards Hawkeye’s room. He didn’t hear anyone in there, now, and he knew that there was a good chance that she’d be asleep, but he needed to at least look in on her and see that she was whole with his own eyes.

He could still hear noise and talking from downstairs, although nothing sounded urgent yet. He was pretty sure he heard Mrs. Nelson’s voice sending everyone out of the kitchen and fussing about the amount of mud that they were bringing inside the house. Havoc smirked. Well, maybe she could help them clean it—or set the other men to work doing it. Even if she didn’t Havoc would make sure that it was clean for Hawkeye, even if he had to do it himself.

He stopped at her door. It wasn’t completely shut but left ajar. It was enough to be able to give her privacy, but to still allow someone to keep an ear on her, or to hear her if she cried out for anything. He knocked on her door, not too hard, but enough to be heard, and waited. Hopefully, she’d answer.

“Come in.” Her voice was groggy, exhausted, and sounded pained. Havoc didn’t like any of that, even though he expected it.

He pushed open the door, enough to look around it. “Hey, Ri. Up for a visitor?”

“No,” she said, but she beckoned him forward anyway with a slight smile on her lips.

She didn’t look good. She was a pale, except for the side of her face that was already changing colors and looked a bit swollen. There were cuts on it, near her eye, and he could only guess that it came from the hit that she took. That alone was enough to make his blood boil, but there wasn’t much that he could do about it now. He had already shot the guy in the shoulder. Part of him didn’t think it was enough, but that was personal feelings and knowing the whole story.

“How ya feeling?” he said as he came in, sitting himself down on the edge of her bed, although he did it very gingerly. He wasn’t sure how she was feeling, but he also didn’t feel like he could keep standing for long periods of time, at least not without moving.

“Pretty bad,” she said. “My face hurts a lot. I’m sore. I’m… drugged. And…” she hesitated. “…I’m… upset.”

It was clearly an understatement, and he knew it. But neither of them was going to talk about it too openly with so many people here.

“Yeah,” he said. They were quiet for a moment, and then, he stood up, went over to her door and closed it. “Riza…what happened?”

She was quiet for a moment, emotion playing over her face. It was always harder for her to keep her mask up when she was drugged or addled. It wasn’t the first time that she, or any of them, really, had been a bit compromised, but it was still hard to see.

“After you left, Fuery started coming around. I was trying to tend to what I could on him, telling him to stay still when I heard footsteps behind me. He must have spent a lot of time in this house, because he knew how to make his way past the creaky places. Fuery’s eyes widened, and that was when I knew that someone was behind me. I turned around, pulling out my gun as I did, but he threw something at me, a capsule of some kind, and it exploded. I stepped backwards, but the fumes were already on me. Whatever I was, it was fast acting, because I started to feel the effects nearly right away. And Jean,” she paused, meeting his eyes. “Things like that, they don’t affect me quickly or at normal doses. Whatever it was, it would have knocked anyone else out immediately.”

Havoc’s face tightened at that. It wasn’t a good thing, that was for sure, and he didn’t like the implications of it.

“Things are a little hard to put in the right order after that. I felt woozy and off balance. I couldn’t react well or fast. I couldn’t think. I tried to shoot at him, but he knocked the gun out of my hand. It must have landed near Fuery, I think. I heard him calling out as I tried to fight back and failed. The man grabbed me around the arms and pulled me away with him. All I remember was confusion and noise and shouting for a few moments there, and then I was being shoved outside onto the muddy ground. He picked me up, and started pulling me along with him, dragging me by the arm.”

She paused, shifting, trying to make herself more comfortable, but obviously not succeeding. She settled back down again, but she pulled her arm out from under the blankets. “I think he bruised me there too.”

Havoc reached over to her sleeve, and gently pushed it up, looking at her arm. There were traces of a forming bruise there, and he frowned. He didn’t like it, and he knew that Mustang would be furious.

“I managed to regain some of my senses when we were halfway across the field, and I stared trying to resist. He pulled on me harder, pushing me and prodding me along. I made it as hard as I could for him, but I wasn’t able to do much. At one point I ripped off the mask he was wearing and saw that it was Johnson. I think I asked him why, because he started ranting about… things.”

She looked back up at Havoc, and her eyes were scared. It made Havoc’s heart twist inside of his chest to see her look at him like that, and he couldn’t help it. He gave her hand a squeeze.

“I don’t remember all of it, not clearly. But Jean… he knew about my tattoo. He knew about flame alchemy. He said he had seen the tattoo and the burns, and that he would be praised for bringing me back. He saw me as a prize, and clearly wanted to use me to further himself. He said… he said that there were people who would be able to reconstruct the circle.”

Her voice had a shake in it, she was clearly rattled and upset by this, and Havoc found that he couldn’t blame her in the least. This was something important. Even if it wasn’t, just the emotional distress that it brought because it was important to her meant something to him.

“Yeah, he was talking something about how taking you with him was going to be a good thing for him too, when we caught up with you,” Havoc said. “But more on that later. What else happened?”

Hawkeye gave a slight shake of her head. “He just kept pulling me. I tried to go for my guns, but he stripped them off of me, threw them down. I used the woods to resist more, pulling on trees and bushes and whatever else I could to try to slow us down. By the time we got to the field, I was digging in my heels, and he must have gotten tired of it, because I remember him hitting me so hard that I think I blacked out for a moment.”

She let out a breath. “When I came to my senses again, he was pulling me up, a knife at my neck, and all of you were there.”

There was an extra fear in her eyes, and Havoc could understand it. Hawkeye had been extra protective of her neck since the Promised Day, and no one could blame her, really. Having it sliced open and bleeding out to force the man you love to sacrifice himself would be traumatic for anyone, really. Havoc was sure that she was going to be extra guarded for the next little bit.

“I remember you all appearing, and I remember being brought back here, although it’s all rather fuzzy. The doctor was already here, and I think Breda took me upstairs? But after that, I have no idea what happened.” She looked at him, anxiety in her eyes. “What happened to Johnson?”

Havoc could hear the unspoken questions in that one question. What happened to Johnson really meant did anyone else know what he knew, was anyone else listening to him, how many people knew about her tattoo now?

“I managed to shoot him in the shoulder,” Havoc said, “after Hayate surprised him into dropping you. He ran off, and we didn’t know just how dangerous he was, so we came back here. Apparently, our hasty exit from town had caused quite a stir, so there were men from the town already here, to see what was going on. We explained that Johnson had been skulking around the house, gotten his hands on some sensitive information, found out some personal information about you, and had kidnapped you, although we weren’t sure of the ultimate purpose of that.”

Hawkeye had been looking a bit nervous, but she seemed to relax a bit as his words. It seemed that the excuse they and given was good enough for her. She nodded at him to continue. Havoc did, filling her in on how she had gotten back and what was currently going on, as well as Fuery’s condition. At one point, when talking about Hayate, he heard a thump thump thump from the other side of the bed and realized that the little dog was in there, guarding his mistress. That honestly made Havoc feel better about leaving her up here alone.

He finished, and she sighed, still looking anxious about the whole deal. He couldn’t blame her, but it still pulled at his heart. Havoc reached up and gently brushed her bangs away from her face. “Hey, Ri. Listen, no matter what happens, we’re here with you, okay? We’ll do our best to make sure it’s all okay.”

“I know,” she said. “But I still can’t help but worry.” She paused. “It scares me, Jean. It scares me to my bones. It scares me so deeply that I can’t even—”

She paused and took in a shaky breath, not quite able to find the words to continue.

“I can only imagine,” he said, and he leaned over to give her a kiss on the forehead. “We’re here for you, though. We’re not going to let anything happen to you.”

Riza bit her lip but nodded. “Thank you, Havoc,” she said. ‘I really do appreciate it. I’m sure Fuery does too. You’ll keep me updated on what’s going on?” she asked him.

Havoc nodded. “Me, or someone else,” he said “But we’ll make sure to keep you two in the loop as much as we can. Fuery’s gonna be a bit harder, unless he got that phone connected. Though.”

“I heard someone on the roof earlier,” Hawkeye said. “So, you might check and see if someone else managed to get the phone working and hooked up. Someone in town has to be able to do it, after all, and maybe whoever it is came along and took care of it.”

“Yeah, or someone sent for him,” Havoc said. “After all, having a phone would be a great asset to an investigation.”

“Always is,” Hawkeye agreed.

“I’ll check on that, then,” Havoc said, and slowly stood up, wincing as he stretched out his poor, overused legs. They were killing him, and they would only get worse as the day went on. He was lucky that the rain had stopped, though. That would have made all of this unbearable, he was sure. He stretched, and then noticed a little something and reached for it.

On her dresser, that stuffed yellow rabbit was sitting. He picked it up, and then reached over to her, tucking it into bed with her. “There you go,” he said with a grin. “Between this guy and Hayate,” there went the tail thumping again, the little guy clearly paying attention to things, “you’ll be well protected.” He reached down, putting a hand on Hawkeye’s head again. “You need anything? I can bring you something if you do.”

Riza shook her head. “No,” she said. “I think that I just need to sleep this off,” she said. “It’s starting to get to me again.”

“Then rest, Riza. I’ll be back later to check on you, or someone from the team will.” He said, taking his hand back.

She gave a light hum and nodded slightly, and he left the room, leaving the door ajar, as he had found it.

Havoc ambled back over to Fuery’s room before he went downstairs, to check on him and see if he needed anything. The young man, who appeared to be sleeping, was apparently just dozing, because he asked how Hawkeye was doing. Havoc gave him a brief update, both on her physical and emotional state. Concern shone in Fuery’s eyes.

“I should have grabbed her gun and shot him,” he said, lamenting not being able to stop Johnson from taking her. “Or done something. Anything.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it. Honestly, she’s feeling guilty because she’s afraid you could have hurt yourself worse trying to save her,” Havoc said. “You two are going to worry yourself in circles about each other. You did what you could, alright? No sense in beating yourself up over what could have been.”

Fuery gave a noise of agreement. “Yeah, I suppose.” But Havoc could see in his eyes, that he wasn’t letting go of it just yet, and he couldn’t really blame him. Havoc wouldn’t be able to immediately let go of it either.

“I’m going to check out what’s going on downstairs. You need anything before I go?”’ he asked.

Fuery tried to shake his head, and then stopped, his neck still immobilized. “No, I’m good. The doctor doesn’t want me moving around much, so I’m trying not to eat or drink a lot because I don’t want to deal with the bathroom right now,” He pulled a face, and Havoc laughed.

“Can’t blame you on that one,” he said. “Alright, I’ll check on you later.”

“Keep me updated!” Fuery said.

“Will do—oh. Not that I expect it, but before you fell did you manage to get the phone hooked up?” Havoc asked, remembering just before he walked out the door.

“I was pushed,” Fuery said, “that I remember, and no. I was almost there, but before I could finish connecting the line I had run from the inside, someone, I’m guessing Johnson, pushed me off the roof. I’m just glad it was in the direction of the tree, because I tried to catch myself on it as much as I was able to. The doctor said that probably slowed my fall and helped keep it from getting any worse.” Fuery paused. “As much as I don’t think Johnson would have cared if I had died, I also don’t think he was actively trying to kill me.”

“That actually makes sense,” Havoc said. “If you were dead, I wouldn’t have run to town for the doctor. I’m not sure what we would have done, but Hawkeye and I wouldn’t have split up. But with you injured, someone had to stay here to look after you.”

“Yeah,” Fuery said, and looked a little pale at the thought.

Havoc reached over and put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re still with us, Fuery,” he said, wholeheartedly meaning every word.

Fuery gave him a smile back. “Me too, sir.”

Havoc withdrew his hand and moved back towards the door. “Alright. I’ll come back later. Yell or something if you need anything.”

“Will do, sir.” Fuery responded.

Havoc left the room, leaving the door ajar like he had Hawkeye’s. He stood there a minute, taking a breath. He hadn’t had a breather since Fuery fell, or, rather, was pushed, off the roof this morning, and he could use a minute to himself.

It had been a crazy day and it was a lot to process. The day wasn’t even over yet. He still needed to find out what was going on outside, see about the phone, and, at some point, clean Hawkeye’s floors for her. She would not be happy to see the muddy state they were in. It was a silly thing, maybe, but it was something concreate that he felt he could do for her. There was precious little he felt like he could do for her right now anyway. Not with her secret on the line.

And what was going to be done about that? Even if he didn’t tell the townspeople, there was a good chance it would come up in investigations. He was sure that Breda and Mustang both had already thought about this. After all, Breda was their strategist, and Mustang was, well, Mustang. He was always thinking steps ahead of the game, even when he didn’t have all of the information or pieces. Honestly, the biggest screw up that Havoc could remember him taking was when he tried to see if General Raven was on their side and instead exposed their whole team to the council and Bradley, which resulted in them being split up. But to be fair, who could have anticipated that? Havoc didn’t think that anyone could have, so he didn’t really blame Mustang for that one. It was totally and entirely unexpected.

And yet Mustang had still found a way to turn it all around for them—with a little help from Havoc himself. He wished he could have seen the look on Mustang’s face when he heard his voice over the phone that day.

With a soft sight, Havoc pushed himself up from the railing that he was leaning against and turned to amble his way downstairs. There was still work to be done, obviously, and no one was getting to either Fuery or Hawkeye with this many people in the house. Not that they wouldn’t all be keeping an ear out anyway, but still. Besides, he could hear the nurse in the bathroom, clearly running water and preparing something, so they would both be looked after.

#fullmetal alchemist Big Bang 2021 #FMA Big Bang 2021 #Fullmetal Alchemist #fma #royai #riza hawkeye #Roy Mustang #Jean Havoc #Heymans Breda #Vato Falman #Kain Fuery #black hayate #fan fiction #fanfic

[starkzam]

I have a prompt, if you're interested: "Completely ordinary" Metropolis reporter Clark Kent is in Fawcett to do more research on a recent Superman & Captain Marvel team up to fight Dr. Sivana that took place in Fawcett. He runs in to an amnesiac orphan who can only remember his name: Billy. He ends up taking in Billy & is trying to be a good parent. Unrelated, the Justice League is scouring Fawcett for Marvel, as he went missing after he was shot with a mysterious ray gun that Sivana had built.

OH, MY GODS. THIS. THIS IS EXACTLY MY CUP OF TEA RIGHT HERE. Something that feels somewhat convoluted with hijinks and identity porn thrown in there--

YESSSSS I LOVE THIS IDEA. I also love that it’s reminiscent of the Shazam/Superman movie.... :3

Might post a longer vers. on my Ao3 But for now...

Clark thumped the pen between his fingers rhythmically on the table in front of him, chewing the inside of his cheek in thought. 

After practically begging Perry White to let him do a story on Superman and Captain Marvel’s fight against Dr. Sivanna in Fawcett, he’d come to the quaint town, checked in to a hotel, and set to work.

It’s just too bad he’d come up with nothing so far.

Not the story, no, that was going just fine- he had more than enough information, as well as witness accounts and data (not that Perry needed to know that just yet). 

No, what Clark was struggling with was something else entirely. The reason he’d begged Perry to assign him this story in the first place, allowing him to focus his attention on Fawcett City- that was what was giving him trouble.

Captain Marvel was missing.

The battle that he and the Captain had partnered on had gone somewhat smoothly, all things considered-- Sivana was a cackling lunatic that easily slid into the classic ‘mad scientist’ archetype, and had built some kind of death ray or something. 

To be honest, Clark hadn’t really been paying attention to what the man was saying, especially since half of the things that came out of his mouth made no sense to him and sounded more like an inside joke between the bald man and Captain Marvel.

Not to mention he’d been busy trying to fight off a giant, mutated octopus- which, really, gave him so many questions. Where had he been keeping this? How was it just fine to walk-or, uh, suction-cup around the city? Why did it spit acid of all things?

The reporter rubbed a spot just below his shoulder at the thought, wincing in pain as his fingers grazed sensitive skin. That acid had hurt. He really wished Arthur had been with them, it would have made things much easier- but the truth of the matter was that he hadn't been, and the creature had found Superman a wonderful target.

Regardless, while he was busy with Octo-zilla, Captain Marvel had taken on the mad scientist. Sivana had set up shop atop a radio tower, cackling and ranting on about something or other before taking aim at Captain Marvel when the man cracked a joke about his plan. 

The demigod had redirected a lightning bolt from the sky towards the ray-gun and destroyed it- but not before Sivana was able to shoot him, launching him backward through the sky and sailing through the air as his lightning blew up Sivana's device. 

Superman had managed to get the mutated calamari to submit after while and had detained Sivana quickly there-after- but Captain Marvel never returned. 

At first, Clark thought the man would catch up with him at the Watchtower when he went in to give a report. When Captain Marvel never showed, he got worried. Bruce told him to give the guy a day or two, so he did- no word ever came. 

The Justice League held a meeting, hoping the man would show and explain what had happened to him.

Captain Marvel hadn’t shown up.

To quell the worry running through his teammates’ heads, Clark had volunteered himself to look for the demigod- he'd wanted to help clean up from the battle anyways, and trying to find their missing demigod would help to silence the worry in his own mind as well.

So now, here he was, in Fawcett City as Clark Kent, trying to find his missing teammate.

The raven-haired reporter sighed, rubbing the skin between his eyebrows in frustration as he continued to thump his pen against the table. The diner was small, plain and quiet, run by an old woman and her daughter- the coffee was fresh and warm, and the people were nice. 

Clark had always preferred mom-and-pop places like this to chain-brand places- there was a certain personal touch to a diner like this.

"Need a refill, sir?" a voice asked, pulling the man from his thoughts and causing him to glance up at the woman holding a coffee pot out for him. The daughter, he thought off-handedly, blinking at the soft curls in her hair that reminded her of Lois when she got dolled up.

"Oh, uh, yes, please. Thank you," he said, sliding his half-empty mug toward the woman with a small smile.

She poured the dark liquid into his mug and he gave her a smile, lifting it to his mouth before sudden movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He furrowed his brow, glancing out the large window of the diner as a small boy with a mop of black hair ran past him, eyes wide and full of fear as he stumbled over his own feet, crashing onto the sidewalk.

Clark furrowed his brow at the boy, tensing and standing up as the boy clambered clumsily to his feet, ignoring the scrapes on his skin and continuing to run like his life depended on it. 

A few moments later, a pair of teenagers came running past the window. 

Clark didn't need to see anymore- he could tell when someone was in danger. He shuffled out of the booth, slipping a couple of dollars from his wallet before pocketing it, his note pad, and his pen, grabbing his jacket, and taking off out of the diner.

He ran in the direction the children had gone, eyes sharp, and looking for any sign of danger. He didn't slow down until he heard soft, almost inaudible sobs coming from an alley. Clark slowed to a walk, glancing around to see if anyone else was in the area before ducking into the alley. 

He moved slowly, vision suddenly cutting through the various objects in the alleyway- he saw through dumpsters and abandoned boxes, large, plastic trashcans and- 

A small bit of movement caught his eye from the opposite side of a dumpster. He saw a small skeleton sitting on the ground, legs pulled up to its chest, and shaking like a leaf. Clark's hand curled into a fist at the sight of a fractured rib. The Kryptonian closed his eyes and shook the X-Ray vision away, blinking and crouching down slightly as he walked. 

"Hello...?" he said slowly, hearing the small figure's heart skip a beat.  

Clark came a bit closer, leaning forward to look around the dumpster. The small boy with a mop of black hair he'd seen before sat on the ground in front of him, trembling against the wall and staring up at him with terrified, icy blue eyes. "Are you okay, son?" Clark asked gently, putting his hands out placatingly and crouching down further. He made no move to get closer to the boy, and the child just stared at him silently. 

"Do you need help?"

The boy just continued to water at him with wide eyes and a fear that he'd be attacked- or worse. Clark let out a short breath, looking around the alley. They were the only ones there- those teenagers must have taken off after hurting the boy. 

"Are you hurt?" he asked gently, even though he knew the answer. 

The boy reacted to that, bringing his knees in a little closer and hugging himself- something that made him wince in pain. "Careful-" Clark said, reaching out a hand. "Don't- don't hurt yourself worse."

"Look, i'm not gonna hurt you, I promise," the Kryptonian said slowly, scooting a bit closer to the boy. "My name's Clark. Can you speak?" 

The boy nodded slowly. 

Good- good. So he wasn't mute, just scared.

"Can you tell me your name?" 

The small raven stared at him for a moment before chewing on his bottom lip- an action that, surprisingly, felt familiar to the Man of Steel. He furrowed his brow slightly at the thought but shoved it away. This kid was more important right now. 

"...Billy." 

"Okay...well it's nice to meet you, Billy. Do you have a last name to go with that?" he asked. Maybe Bruce could look the kid up and he could get him home to his parents. When the boy began to tear up, Clark felt like he'd said something wrong somehow.

Billy was shaking his head, tears beading in the corners of his eyes. 

"You- you don't have a last name?" Clark asked in confusion.

"I- I don' remember..." the boy mumbled, tears falling down his cheeks. 

Clark felt a cold chill go up his spine. Amnesia. That in itself would be trouble enough, but this was a kid with amnesia- it made things much harder. It had to be retrograde since the boy couldn't remember his last name- he'd have to get him to Bruce so he could run a facial scan. 

"Well, Billy..." he said, coming a bit closer. "Do you mind if I take you to get help? You're hurt, and I wanna help you- but I can't if you don't let me," he said, holding out a hand to the boy. "Will you let me help you?" he asked, looking into the child's icy blue eyes. 

Billy stared at the man's hand, and Clark could almost see the cogs spinning in his mind. He furrowed his brow, meeting Clark's gaze before letting out a shaky breath and nodding. "O-okay," he said, reaching a hand out to grab the reporter's.

Clark gave the boy a soft smile, coming closer to lift the boy into his arms. Billy was tense at first, but he slowly settled into the man’s arms. “Okay, I think I have a friend that can help us with your injury,” he said, glancing towards the entrance of the alley.

Things just got a tad bit more complicated.

#shazam #captain marvel #billy batson #starkvenger #prompt #prompt fill #dc #dc comics #justice league #clark kent #superman

[flowerfan2]

The Whipped Cream Incident

McDanno, 3k, A03, M

Summary:  Pretty much what it says on the tin... the story of the whipped cream incident, as referred to in Risky Business (although you don’t have to have read that story to enjoy this one).

Steve’s had just enough whiskey to feel comfortably warm, when for some inexplicable reason, he blurts it out.

 Danny’s eyes go wide, and Steve kind of forgets what he just said.  Danny’s eyes are crazy blue right now, picking up the color of his shirt.  He takes Steve’s breath away.  

 Danny moves closer to Steve, poking him with a finger until he focuses.  “Steven. What are you talking about? Slowly, this time.  Like a human.”

 Steve aims a serious look at Danny. He loves it when Danny pretends Steve is a Neanderthal.  It’s charming.  “I just said I hadn’t done it before you, that’s all.”

 Danny narrows his baby blues at Steve. “Done what?”

 “Sex with a guy.”  Steve doesn’t understand why Danny looks so surprised. He’d thought it had been pretty obvious, what with being completely closeted for so many years, and most of those in the military.

 Danny abruptly stands up.  “You maybe should have mentioned this,” he says, waving an arm around.  “We’ve been together for weeks.  Months-”

 “One month, three weeks, two days,” Steve corrects him.  “If you count from that first kiss in the hospital.  If you count from when we got to Kono’s-”

 Danny glares at him.  “You should have said something.”  

 “Why?  Does it matter?”  Steve pushes down a pang of hurt.  

 A look that Steve absolutely cannot interpret flashes across Danny’s face, and then Danny shakes his head and sighs.

 “No, of course not.  Of course not.  But we will be talking about this later.  When we are less…”  Danny waves his hand around, apparently indicating their general state of inebriation.

 Steve grins, nodding.  Fine with him.  Danny grabs Steve’s hand and pulls him upright.  Steve presses himself up against Danny’s muscled chest and is rewarded with a long, whiskey sloppy kiss.

 “Mmm,” Danny says, briefly going boneless against him.  “Let’s go upstairs and lie down before we fall down, sound good?”  

 Steve drapes an arm around Danny’s waist as they make haste towards the stairs.  “Aye aye, sir.”

 *****

In the morning, Steve wakes early and goes for a swim, as he usually does.  Unfortunately instead of clearing his mind, it gives him too much time to think.

 He doesn’t really believe Danny could be mad at him for not being experienced with guys.  But it could be something related, something about identity, and that’s always a hard subject, especially for Steve, who has avoiding thinking about it for most of his life.

 Although Danny has always played it close to the chest too.  As far as Steve knows, none of their friends or teammates knew that Danny was bi until he and Steve got together.  

 Danny has told Steve about how he dated a guy in college, and he and Danny spent one memorable evening on the beach talking about their male celebrity crushes, but Steve has never volunteered many details about his own sexual history.  There’s not much to tell, at least not where guys are concerned.

 When Steve gets back to shore Danny is there, smiling softly as he hands him the towel Steve left on the sand.

 “Morning, handsome,” Danny says, stretching up to kiss Steve’s damp face.  

 Steve feels a rush of warmth, and bumps his shoulder against Danny’s as they walk back to the house.  Danny’s not mad, of course not.  Although the fact that Danny’s already got breakfast laid out on the table on the lanai may be a signal that they’re about to have a <i>talk.</i>  Steve figures he might as well head it off, so they can get back to enjoying their weekend.

 “I’m sorry if you got the wrong idea, but it’s true.  I’ve never had sex with a guy before.”

 “Okay,” Danny says mildly, sitting down at the table and stirring some sugar into his coffee.

 “Why did you think I did?”

 Danny stretches out his feet in front of him.  “I’ve been trying to figure that out.  I think it was when we were at Kono’s, one of those first nights, sitting outside in her backyard.  Remember?”

 Steve thinks back fondly to the misty garden behind Kono’s little Seattle home.  “Yeah, I remember.”

 “We were kissing,” Danny says, “and you said you forgot the feel of it.”  Danny leans over and rubs Steve’s cheek with the back of his hand. “Stubble, you said something like you forgot what it felt like to kiss someone with stubble, but you liked it.” Danny cups his hand around Steve’s jaw and smiles.  “So we kissed some more.”

 Steve feels himself blush.  “I did like it.”  He takes a sip from coffee that Danny has left black, just as he prefers. “And I have kissed guys before. Two, actually.”

 “But you never went any further, is that it?”

 Steve nods.  “Yeah.  One was in high school – just a make-out session under the bleachers, very cliché. He wouldn’t give me the time of day the next morning in class, and then I moved to the mainland not long afterwards.”

 “And the second?”

 Steve shrugs.  “Another teams guy.  Years and years ago.  We actually probably would have gone further, we were drunk and stupid with it, but we got interrupted.”

 Danny looks concerned.  “Did you get into trouble?”

 “Nah, no one saw anything.  But it put the fear of god into me, you know? I couldn’t let DADT ruin my career.”

 “So you stuck to women.”

 “Or, you know, just doing my job.”

 Danny looks sad for a moment, and Steve braces himself for another round of <i>poor Steve, he doesn’t let anybody in, too focused on his work to find someone to love,</i> but Danny doesn’t go there.

 “But you, um, you like what we’ve been doing?”

 Steve hears it then, the slight echo of insecurity in Danny’s voice.  Danny hadn’t realized he was leading this charge, that it had been on him, to the extent such a thing was even necessary, to make sure they did things right, and now he’s worried.  Classic Danny.

 He gets up and pulls Danny out of his chair, winding his arms around Danny’s fantastic shoulders.  “I love <i>everything</i> we do together,” he says, letting his voice rumble low into Danny’s ear.  “I wouldn’t have picked anyone else to take my boy-virginity.”

 As intended, this makes Danny laugh out loud, and Steve ducks in to kiss him while his mouth is still open. Danny responds enthusiastically and starts to tug Steve inside.

 “What about the pancakes?”  Steve asks, trying to keep kissing Danny while stumbling into the house.

 “We can reheat them,” Danny says.

 “Hypocrite,” Steve gasps out, as Danny shoves Steve’s swim trunks off his hips and tosses them onto the couch. “You never want to microwave pancakes.”

 “Is that really the conversation you want to be having right now?”  Danny asks, looking up at Steve from where he’s crouched down on the floor, sliding his hands enticingly along Steve’s bare thighs.

 “Just saying,” Steve insists, even as his breath flies out of him in response to the heat of Danny’s mouth on his cock.

 Danny rolls his eyes with his mouth still busy, which is quite a sight, and Steve lets the banter go in favor of letting out a nice, long moan.  He loves when Danny sucks him off, and loves sucking Danny off.  And Danny seems to love it too, giving and receiving.  It’s a sucking off love fest.

 Afterwards, lying on the floor in the living room while the air slowly heats up with the morning sun, the rug underneath them slightly scratchy against Steve’s skin, Danny rolls towards Steve and props himself up on an elbow.

 “I have a confession to make,” Danny says.

 Steve mirrors Danny.  “Oh?”

 “I assumed, you, um, had more experience with guys than I did.”

 “Well, I don’t,” Steve says, wondering why they’re going over this again.

 “No, I mean…”  Danny flops over on his back and throws an arm over his eyes. “I honestly don’t know if I can even say this.”

 “Because words are usually so hard for you.”

 Danny kicks a foot in Steve’s direction, and Steve pins it with his leg.  He rolls over and flops on Danny’s chest, sticking his tongue out to taste the sweat trickling in between Danny’s well defined pecs.

 “Are you trying to distract me?” Danny asks.

 “Maybe you’re distracting me.”

 Danny huffs out a laugh and slides a hand up and down Steve’s back.  “Okay, whatever, just…”  Danny takes a breath and then his words come out in a rush.  “I think I was sort of waiting for you to take the lead with some stuff, even though that’s dumb, but maybe you were waiting for me to do it, and I want you to be, you know, good with stuff, with us together, and, yeah, I don’t even know.”

 Steve peels Danny’s arm off his face and looks him in the eyes.  “Danny, I am absolutely good with stuff, with us.  If you’re worried that you’ve somehow pushed me into anything-”

 “No, that’s not it.”

 “Well, you haven’t.”  Steve squints at Danny.  “Is it the opposite?  Are you bored?”  Steve has been pretty satisfied with what they do in bed – or out of it – handjobs and blowjobs and various forms of rutting up against each other.  It’s always fun, and sexy, and he has no complaints whatsoever.

 Danny barks out a cackle, and then sits up, grabbing Steve’s discarded swim trunks and throwing them at his head. “No, you crazy person, I’m not bored.”

 “But you think I’m too vanilla?” Steve asks, loving the way Danny’s face flushes pink at this.

 “No, you’re not, what does that even mean, we’re grown-ass men,” Danny protests, his blush intensifying.

 “Grown-ass men can have fun, too,” Steve says, waggling his eyebrows.

 “I love how you think that face belongs in this conversation,” Danny says, but he’s smiling happily back at Steve. “And I didn’t mean you were too vanilla, whatever hipster meaning that has, but if you want to do other stuff, you know, we could, that’s all.”  Danny’s clearly more than a little uncomfortable about this conversation, but he’s powering through.

 Steve is intrigued, and more than that, ridiculously charmed by Danny, even in the middle of what should be an awkward talk about sex.  Every day he falls further for this guy.  “Come shower with me, I’ll show you how much fun grown-ass men can have,” Steve says, getting to his feet and reaching down to pull Danny up.  It’s the weekend.  They can mess around all day, if they want.  This is his life now, and he loves it.

 “Yeah?”  Danny asks.  “Okay. But only if we can take more than three minutes.  I’m not interested in one of your ridiculous Navy showers.”

 Steve grins and gives Danny a lecherous wink.  “I’ll do my best.  Age does have its benefits.”  Steve ignores Danny’s groan in favor of pinching his naked butt as they run up the stairs.

 ****

The next morning, Steve is in the kitchen putting away groceries when Danny comes downstairs.  Danny’s just finished his shower, and he’s naked except for a towel slung low around his hips.  It’s a really good look.  

 Steve grins to himself, checking to make sure that the supplies he selected are within easy reach, and turns to Danny.

 “Morning, handsome,” Danny says, walking right into Steve’s arms for a kiss.

 “Look who’s talking,” Steve rumbles into Danny’s mouth.  Danny is warm all over from his shower, and he smells great, clean and fresh but still himself underneath.  Steve spreads his legs and leans back against the sink, pulling Danny in close.  

 “Didja miss me?”  Danny asks, resting his weight against Steve and wrapping his arms around his shoulders.  Steve can feel the moisture from Danny’s damp chest through his t-shirt.

 “Always,” Steve says.  He nips at Danny’s ear, and Danny hums, pressing his towel wrapped hips enticingly up against Steve’s body.  “Wanna take this upstairs?”

 Danny tilts his head back and gazes up at Steve.  “I’m good,” he says, humor pulling at his lips.  

 Okay then, Steve thinks, looking around his sunny kitchen as all the blood in his body rushes south.  Might work better, anyway.  He twists to the side, which brings certain very interested parts of his body into even closer contact with Danny’s.

 “I bought something,” Steve says, or tries to, his breath catching as Danny sucks a kiss into the side of his neck.

 “Yeah?” Danny asks, still concentrating on Steve’s neck, sliding lower to get to the tender skin just under his collarbone before pulling back for a moment to strip Steve’s t-shirt off.

 The pause gives Steve a chance to reach into the bag on the counter, and he pulls out a bottle of whipped cream, presenting it to Danny with a smile.

 “Oh no, you did not,” Danny says, his eyes going bright with interest.  “Is that for…?”

 “Ice cream sundaes,” Steve replies, trying not to smile.

 “Right.”  Danny slides his hands up Steve’s chest, his fingertips giving extra attention to his pecs and nipples.  “Sundaes.”  Danny flicks at a nipple, and Steve gasps as Danny quickly soothes it with his tongue.

 “Danny,” Steve breathes out, one hand sliding down Danny’s body as Danny turns his attention to his other nipple. Soon he’s sucking at one while he flicks rhythmically at the other.  Steve shudders.

 “You like this, don’t you?” Danny whispers, his breath hot on Steve’s skin.  Steve doesn’t answer, but he figures the way he’s practically panting and trying to worm his way into Danny’s skin probably does the trick.

 Steve gives in to it, head tilting back, body on fire.  He’s not sure what Danny is trying to accomplish, but he definitely likes it. He whines a little as Danny straightens back up, his mouth tracing kisses up Steve’s chest.

 “Fuck,” Steve says.  “Danny…”  The towel around Danny’s hips slips to the floor as Steve gets a grip on Danny’s ass, giving him a squeeze.

 Danny grunts his appreciation, then leans back as his hands fall to Steve’s waist.  “Let’s get rid of these.”  He tugs at the denim.  “I think they’re in the way.”

 Steve nods and Danny goes to work on Steve’s jeans, popping the button and easing the zip down until he can get his hand on Steve’s cock.  Damn, that feels good.

 “So,” Danny says, almost conversationally, as he strokes Steve, “what are your plans for the whipped cream, hm?”

 Steve has pretty much forgotten about the whipped cream bottle he’s still gripping in his right hand, and he struggles to get the top off of it as Danny continues to palm his dick and whisper low and rough into his ear.

 “Gonna spray it somewhere?” Steve sucks in a breath as Danny’s hand twists a little as he comes up over the tip.  “Gonna spray it on me, and then lick it up?” Danny growls, licking a stripe up Steve’s neck as if in anticipation.

 Steve hasn’t really thought through what, exactly, was going to happen with the whipped cream, but spraying it on Danny was the general idea.  He can’t get the right angle on the bottle, though, not while Danny is doing <i>that thing</i> to him that makes him shake, but he’s trying, holding it behind Danny’s shoulders so he can get both hands on it.

 “Or maybe I should put it on you,” Danny says, his hand slowing, just holding gently now.  Steve groans and thrusts up into Danny’s hand, not wanting him to stop.  “I could put a little dab just here,” Danny runs a finger along Steve’s length, and then suck you down-”

 Just then, three things happen in quick succession.

 An all too familiar voice shouts in surprise from the doorway.

 Danny’s hips thrust hard against Steve’s.

 And Steve sprays the kitchen, and a very shocked Junior, with whipped cream.

 By the time they regain their wits, Junior is long gone, shouting “I didn’t see anything, oh my god, sirs, I’m sorry, I saw nothing, I’m leaving!”  They hear the front door slam, and stare at each other, before breaking out into uncontrollable laughter.  Danny slides his hands out of Steve’s pants and sinks to the floor, curled up over his stomach as he gasps for air, and Steve falls down next to him.

 “You’re naked,” Steve finally says, sucking in a breath, and Danny looks down at himself, sitting on the floor starkers, and cackles.

 “I know!”

 “Junior saw you-”

 “I know!”

 “With the whipped…”

 “I know!”

 There’s a clinking sound and they see Eddie, who has cornered the bottle of whipped cream up against his water bowl and is licking it clean.  There’s whipped cream on the kitchen island, and on the floor, and a little bit in Danny’s hair.  Steve reaches out a finger and wipes it off, Danny glaring at him and then grabbing Steve’s finger and sticking it in his own mouth.

 Steve grins, and then reality sneaks back in.  His attempt at taking the lead and spicing things up between them didn’t exactly go as planned.

 “I’m sorry, Danny,” he says ruefully.

 “For what?”  Danny has found a splatter of whipped cream on Steve’s shoulder and is smearing it with his finger.

 “I’m sure you didn’t exactly want Junior to see you, all, you know…”

 “Butt naked and jerking off my boyfriend?”  Danny asks, grinning at Steve.  “It’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

 “You’re not upset?”

 “Do I seem upset?  Why should I be, ‘cause Junior saw my ass?  I have an awesome ass, and an awesome boyfriend. Junior’s gonna be jealous, but I can handle it.”

 Steve catches Danny’s gaze, and sees nothing but fond amusement and steady love.  “You’re really okay with this?”  Steve waves his hand, indicating the general state of disaster that is the morning’s attempt at sexytimes.

 “Are you kidding?  This is the most fun I’ve ever had.  And-” Danny stretches over and retrieves the can of whipped cream, “if you don’t mind a little dog spit, I’m pretty sure the can isn’t empty.”

 Steve laughs again, batting the can out of Danny’s hand, and planting a fierce kiss on his boyfriend’s lips, which taste deliciously of whipped cream.  It’s the most fun Steve’s ever had, too.  And he doesn’t think it’s anywhere near over.

#mcdanno #H50 #H50 fic #Hawaii Five-O #steve mcgarrett #danny williams #sexytimes

[imperialstark]

choke on me—chapter four

breathe me in (prequel fic)

chapter three

chapter five

a/n: this is a pretty chill chapter, and chapter five is going to be the exact opposite so have fun with this one while you can ;)  also for my bilingual readers, if i have any, please excuse my shitty Italian in this chapter, i'm literally just working off of google translate

rating: pretty gen...this time

warning(s): n/a

—————

Carmen couldn't have picked a better day for a carnival; It's not too hot out for it to be August nonetheless. A slight breeze ruffles Tony's ungelled hair, sending his bangs into his eyes. He smooths the hair back with a huff. So much for keeping it casual today. His brief irritation dissipates when he looks, truly looks, at his surroundings. 

The scent of cotton candy and funnel cake and something smoky, no doubt barbecue, carries on the wind. There are two long lines of booths, rides, and rest places alike stretching for a good yard. The other volunteers are zooming about, dressed in bright red tees like the Avengers, finishing up last-minute preparations. 

"She doesn't half-ass anything, huh?" Clint says. He sounds impressed and…a little excited. Tony can't lie...he's excited too.

"I'll say," Steve says, and there's no hiding the awe in his voice. "I can't believe some of these rides even exist." 

Out the corner of his eye, Tony sees Thor lean down to whisper something in Bruce's ear, blue eyes dancing. Whatever he said makes Bruce laugh, a real one, not the sharp little chuckle that's usually full of self-loathing or sarcasm or both. 

They're off to a good start. Even Natasha looks pleased, or as pleased as she can be, with her arms crossed in front of her. She's taking in their surroundings too, but Tony knows that a part of her isn't doing it for fun. She's looking for enemies, escape routes, any possible threats to her and the others. 

"You can take an agent out of the field," he thinks. He hopes that maybe she'll loosen up by the end of the day, preferably without anyone getting hurt. 

"Where's Solomita?" she asks. "I want to know what we’re doing.”

"I know where she is," Tony says and leads the way, picking out Carmen's chirpy voice, throwing out orders and praise with a megaphone, Jesus Christ. 

"Make sure you're at your booths in ten minutes! The kids are going to be arriving soon!" 

She's crossing things off on her clipboard when Tony and the Avengers following behind him pull up in front of her. 

She hasn't changed a bit since Tony's last seen her. She's still tan, still short, shorter than Tony. Her dark wavy hair is pulled back into what she used to call her "business braid" for when she had "shit that needs to be done." 

Tony clears his throat, and Carmen looks up, her big brown eyes going wide before a grin breaks across her face and—

Carmen pounces on him, full-on throwing her arms around Tony's neck. Tony catches her no problem and—Carmen's mood is so infectious—gives her a little twirl before setting her down.

"Jesus Christ," Clint says under his breath. "She almost took him out." 

"Did not," Carmen says, and Clint has the good sense to look bashful. "This is normal for us. Especially when someone hasn't reached out in two. Years," she says, slapping Tony on the arm twice for emphasis. 

"Ouch," he says, rubbing his arm. "I've been busy."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Save the world a few times, and suddenly you have no time for your friends," she says, grinning, so Tony knows she's joking. She turns to the Avengers, who've all been standing there awkwardly like they're the new kids in school. 

"All jokes aside, I'm thankful for you guys, all of you," she says. "Who knows where we'd be without the Avengers." She sticks out her hand for them to shake and for a split second, nobody moves. Maybe it was the genuine gratitude in Carmen's voice, or the others were still trying to process Carmen's everything, but the smile on her face starts to waver at their hesitation.

Steve is the first to act, taking Carmen's hand in his own. "Thank you, ma'am," he says. "I know I speak for everyone when I say that we're glad the team exists, and we'll help out any way we can." 

"Thank you," Tony mouths to him, and Steve gives him a slight nod, letting go of Carmen's hand.

Thor steps up next and, in true princely fashion, bows, bringing Carmen's hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of her palm. "A pleasure to be here, my lady," Thor says.

Carmen's face is red when Thor straightens back up, releasing her hand. After that, it's like the others shift into gear. Clint apologizes for his comment. Bruce offers her a kind hello until it's just Natasha who steps up until she's right in front of Carmen. Even though they're the same height, Carmen stiffens up, looking at Natasha like she's about to get chastised. 

Natasha simply...sticks out her hand. "It’s nice to meet you,” she begins.

Carmen takes Natasha’s hand slowly like she’s expecting some trick. 

“I’m actually a fan,” Natasha says. “I saw your work this February while undercover. Very nice.” 

"Thank you," Carmen says. If she blushes anymore, Tony’s going to start worrying about her health. "I was actually inspired by your suit. The leather and the bodycon silhouette paired well with Fall and Winter." 

"Oh, really?" Natasha says, raising her brows. Natasha looks her up and down, and Carmen, much to her credit, holds her gaze. "I have ideas for your spring collection if you'd like to hear them." 

And just like that, the Avengers have won Carmen over forever. And Tony didn't even have to make any threats. Maybe today won't be a disaster after all.

"Yes, please," Carmen says, her voice coming out high and reedy. "I mean since you're offering—" 

“Carmen,” Tony interrupts before she starts melting under the full force of Natasha’s undivided attention, “what’s the game plan for today?” 

"Game plan. Right. We're here to work." Carmen clears her throat, a flush still staining her cheeks, and flips through some of the pages on her clipboard. "Okay, Tony, you're easy. You're running the basketball booth." 

Basketball. He can do basketball. 

"Mr. Rogers," Carmen says. Natasha starts humming "Won't You Be My Neighbor" until Steve shoots her an exasperated look. 

"Sorry," Natasha says, not sounding sorry at all. 

"Please, call me Steve," Steve says. "She already has that song set as my ringtone."

"Steve," Carmen says. "I know you're an artist. Think you could do caricatures slash portraits?" 

Steve nods. "Easy enough." 

The rest of the assignments go quickly. Natasha gets the sharpshooting booth, Clint's over Ring Toss, and Thor and Bruce will oversee the sack race. Now that introductions and assignments are over, there's a thrum of excitement to the air. Or anxiety. Tony's not sure yet. 

"Nervous?" Carmen says to him. She's tucked her pen behind her ear. 

"Maybe," he says. "Maybe not. It could just be indigestion."

"Gross," she laughs, wrinkling her nose. "I'm sure it'll be fine. I meant what I said, you know. I'm glad you guys showed up. You know how much A Helping Hand means to me." 

Of course, he does. Carmen's like him...in more ways than one. She had been orphaned at nineteen when her parents' plane had gone down over the Atlantic. 

And at twenty-one, she had also found herself the sole heir to a family fortune and no family to share it with. She got the idea for A Helping Hand after Tony's own parents had died. 

Tony repeats what she had told him all those years ago. "Us orphans gotta stick together."

"Damn right," she says. "Siamo famiglia."

"Siamo famiglia," Tony echoes. 

"Congrats on your new additions, by the way," Carmen says. 

Tony's brows furrow. "What new additions?" he asks.

Carmen tilts her head at him like she used to whenever she thought he had said something stupid. "You're telling me that those five supermodels you call teammates just came here for shits and giggles?" 

"They needed a day off," Tony explains. "I offered. Nothing else to it."

"They came because you asked them, dumbass. They're your friends." 

Tony's not going to argue with her, mostly since the others have stopped talking amongst themselves and are looking right at them. 

"Anyway," he says pointedly, "can you point me in the direction of my booth?" 

*********

For the next three hours, Tony shoves Carmen's words from his mind and throws himself into teaching anyone who steps up to the basketball booth about physics. It wasn't cheating per se; Tony simply calculated the angle the kids would have to throw the ball along with the perfect amount of force. The looks of shock followed by unabashed glee after they made a basket more than made up for any guilt he was feeling.  

His break comes faster than he wants it to, but he has to take one eventually and decides the best way to do that is to take a walk. His fellow volunteer, a young man named Jake, says he'll be able to hold down the fort while Tony's gone. Maybe Tony will check on the others, see how they're faring. 

“It’s a great day to fly,” he thinks. The sky is a soft pale blue that soothes his heart. Cirrus clouds, like pulled apart cotton candy, lazily make their way across the horizon. Maybe after the carnival is over, he’ll take the suit out for a ride and cruise through the skies. 

He wanders without direction, letting his feet carry him wherever they fancy. Seldom does Tony get quiet moments to himself like this. There was always a fire to put out, a project to work on, kittens to rescue from trees, that sort of thing. Not that he ever doubted her, but maybe Pepper was right. Maybe he did work too hard. 

The sound of children squealing pulls him from his thoughts and brings a smile to his face. Carmen had spared no expense, not that he expected any less, as he takes in the Tilt-a-Whirl lifting its arms higher and higher. The riders throw their arms up in the air, their laughter carrying on the wind. For today, they would get to fly too. 

Tony continues on, the shouts and whoops and laughs fading into the background; he's made it to a quieter part of the carnival where they tucked off all of the arts and crafts booths. 

There's the finger painting table where plenty of toddlers and adults alike are flinging paint onto sheets of canvas. One kid rises from the face painting table with Cap's shield emblazoned upon his cheek and a booth over...there's Steve, drawing caricatures for the kids. There's a curve to his lips. Steve's biting back a smile at the little boy trying (and failing) to sit still in his chair as he draws him. Tony's heart jumps at the sight. He's tempted to slide into the line for Steve's booth himself, but something holds him back. It could be the look of contentment on Steve's face or the kid's near infectious excitement—Tony feels like he's intruding on something private. Someone else's life. Someone else's dream. 

His heart pangs in his chest as the little boy jumps as soon as his drawing is finished and throws himself into Steve's arms. Steve startles but recovers quickly, giving the kid a polite hug back. 

For some reason, Tony thinks of the kid he met not even a year ago when everyone thought he was dead: Harley. Tony didn't hug Harley. He didn't have it in him to hug Harley. The kid deserved it, though, for dealing with Tony's shit. Tony liked kids well enough, but having one of his own? He would never admit it out loud, but it scared him. And Steve...Steve deserved more than a coward. 

There's less energy in his steps as he turns around and walks right back to the basketball booth. 

He knows he still has time left on his break, but for some reason, he can't bring himself to care. 

He finishes his shift with little fanfare, the carnival-goers opting for the rides and fair food after loading up on prizes for the day. 

His head's all foggy like he just got up from a nap. He's so out of it, he doesn't even realize that the others are walking up to his booth. Tony blinks slowly, trying to ignore the pressure building in his forehead, a sure sign of a headache. 

"Hey," Steve says when they make it to his booth. "You about ready?"

Tony winces, prompting the others to look him up and down. 

"You okay? What's bothering you?" Clint asks. 

"Just got a headache," Tony says, stepping out from his booth, giving Jake a wave. Jake waves back, trying his best not to look starstruck at the sight of the other Avengers.

"Did you eat at all?" Natasha asks, and as soon as she says something, his stomach growls. 

"Guess not," Bruce says. 

"You must eat," Thor says gently. "A warrior such as yourself must maintain your strength."

He knows they're right, but being confronted by all of them at once has his hackles rising. Carmen's words are getting all tangled up with Pepper's, and he can't. Stop. Thinking. 

"I will," he says, aware that they're watching him more closely now. He hopes that he doesn't look as unsound as he feels. "But why leave just yet? Don't you guys want to check out some of the booths or rides before we leave?" 

Steve starts to object, but Natasha is one second faster. "I did want to beat Clint at Shoot 'em Up," she says with a smirk. 

Steve looks ready to protest, but Clint cuts him off. "Oh, you're on," he says. "Loser has to do the other's paperwork for two weeks." 

"Prepare to drown in files, Barton," Natasha says, catching Tony's eye. 

Tony nods at her. A Thank you. 

She flips her hair over her shoulder. You're welcome. He doesn't know when they learned to read each other so well. 

Clint and Natasha make their way to the sharpshooting booth, Thor and Bruce walking along behind them. 

"You sure you're okay?" Steve asks, scanning Tony from head to toe. Steve can see through him so easily, his skin might as well be made of glass.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Tony says. "Come on. Let's catch up before they kill each other."

*********

Natasha and Clint tie in Shoot 'em Up. Since Tony is on a team that consists entirely of children, they extend their competition to every booth in the carnival. Steve warms up as the day goes on, even joining in on their little competition along with Thor. Tony and Bruce are just content to watch. 

Thor ropes Steve into the strongman game, which attracts a crowd, but who would turn down the sight of two handsome, well-built men lifting heavy things and showing off their muscles? Tony certainly couldn't, and given the way Bruce eyes the bulge of Thor's biceps, neither could he. 

Steve rings the bell easily and wins, of all things, a Captain Ameribear for his trouble.  

"Aw," Tony says. "It has wings on its helmet too." 

"Are we just going to ignore the fact that it came with a shield pillow?" Clint asks. 

Steve blushes, but it's all in good fun. Thor, of course, breaks the game, the bell flying clean off the top of the tower. The game runner in awe (and a little bit of fear) gives Thor a prize regardless. Tony promises to compensate the man as soon as possible. Despite all of that, his headache has receded slightly. He needs to eat now, and that barbecue is starting to smell better and better. 

Tony's so caught up in drooling over a rack of ribs or some trashed wings he barely notices the others walking off to the next booth, Steve lingering behind to wait on him. 

"Sorry," Tony says. "Guess I'm out of it. You...you don't have to wait on me, you know." 

Steve shrugs. "No one's forcing me. Spending time with you isn't a chore. This actually works out." 

Tony smiles despite himself. "What are you planning?"

"Nothing," Steve says. "I just wanted you to have this." Steve hands the bear over to Tony, and Tony...Tony melts because Steve is so fucking cute and sweet, and how did the hell did he end up in Tony's life? 

Tony takes the bear, and maybe it's the lack of food in his system, but the urge to cry at Steve's kindness strikes him. The bear is cute with Steve's signature red, white, and blue suit and the shield to go along with it. "Thank you," Tony says. "You sure you want me to hold onto this?" 

Steve looks at him from underneath his lashes. "Tony," he begins, "it's a gift. I want you to have it." 

"Okay," Tony whispers, feeling like the air is closing in on him. It's hard to breathe when Steve looks at him like that, like Tony means something to him. 

"Besides," Steve says, leaning in close to him. "I'm gonna clean the booths out. I'm trying to beat the super spies. Can you keep him safe for me?" 

Steve's breath, cool and minty, washes over his face. Tony has to blink a few times, processing what just happened before he can even think about speaking. 

"Are you guys coming, or are you just going to gaze into each other's eyes?" Clint shouts from the next booth over. 

Tony jumps and hurries to rejoin the others, Steve right behind him, staring into his back.

True to his word, Steve cleans out every booth they touch,  until he's practically drowning in stuffed animals. They attract a crowd as they make their way to the food court. Tony's feet are aching, and his stomach is outright roaring for sustenance. He and Thor get the biggest plate of ribs they've got to offer. The meat's so tender it's falling off the bone and smoked to perfection. The sauce they used is homemade, all tang and smoky sweetness. He eats until his stomach is about ready to burst. 

Thor's singing the cooks' praises and their delicious Midgardian cuisine and rises to go get seconds, Bruce trailing after him.

Clint runs off to the bathroom, and something catches Steve's eye. Tony follows his gaze to the herd of children trying (and failing) to watch them eat without freaking out. Steve rises from the table, taking his prizes with him, leaving just Tony and Natasha behind.

"Sometimes, I can't believe he's real," Natasha says, breaking the silence. There's no need to wonder who's the "he" she's talking about. Tony thinks it himself sometimes. 

It's hard not to when kids start lining up single file for their turn to receive a stuffed animal from Steve. 

"Me neither," Tony says. "Howard...he'd tell me all these stories of Steve and the 'good old days'...Steve single-handedly storming a HYDRA facility. Throwing himself on a grenade to give others the chance to live. I always thought he was embellishing a little. Making war stories more digestible for a kid, you know? But seeing him, knowing him? You can't help but wonder how someone can be so good."

"He's not like you," Natasha says. He doesn't even have it in himself to be offended. She's right. Steve isn't like Tony and will never be like Tony. A little rough around the edges. "He's not like me, either," she admits, catching Tony by surprise. 

"He's the best of us," Tony says. He glances at her. Natasha sits forward, resting her head upon her palm. Her face is smooth, her cheeks still tinged pink from their rowdy tramping through the fairgrounds. She looks...raw. That's the only word to describe her. Raw and real and human. Not the robot switching personalities and names and appearances like most people change clothes. 

"You make him that way," she says, shocking him again. His stomach drops, and whatever peace between them quickly disintegrates. What does she mean by that? What could she possibly know about him and Steve and all the complexities of their relationship? 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Tony says, his voice coming out thin. 

Something in Natasha’s face softens, and she tilts her head at Tony. “I’m not going to pretend I know all of the details, but…you’re good for him. And I think he’s good for you. You’re both...softer. You look happy.” 

It’s like someone’s dumped cold water down Tony’s back; he’s so in shock he can barely register what Natasha is saying. He swallows. Natasha knows. Of course, she knows, and if it weren’t her job to gather intel and pick up on context clues, he’d be a lot more worried that the others knew. But she wasn’t blackmailing him or threatening him to stay away from Steve? She...approved of them? He remembers that debriefing after they had defeated Loki, what felt like a lifetime ago, and her casual dismissal of Tony and his relationship with Steve. He wants to bring it up, to confront her, but what’s there to confront? 

He brings it up anyway. “Still think he wouldn’t touch me with a ten-foot pole?” 

Natasha tilts her head at him again, and he hates how sweaty his palms have gotten, and the hummingbird beating of his heart, like his relationship with Steve hinges on her opinion. 

“No,” she says slowly as if to weigh her words. “He wants you too much. I don’t think he could give you up even if he wanted to.” 

As if summoned, Steve comes bounding back to their table looking boyish and vibrant in the evening sun before Tony can process her words. 

"What I miss?" he says with a breathless grin, holding onto one last stuffed animal. 

"Nothing much," Tony says before Natasha can say anything incriminating. His eyes dart down to the last stuffed animal in Steve's arms. It's an Iron Man bear, of course, all done up in the telltale red and gold of Tony's suit. "What's the deal, no one wanted him?" he says, nodding to the bear. 

Steve looks down at the Iron Bear, and what he says next might actually make Tony melt into a puddle. "Nah. Couldn't bear to give him up."

Tony ignores Natasha's pointed look and hopes that his face isn't as red as he thinks it is. 

“Clint, you’re riding with me on the Ferris wheel,” Natasha declares when everyone makes it back to their table, and Steve has successfully made Tony as red as his suit. 

“A Ferris wheel?” Thor asks, arching his brow. 

“It’s a carnival classic,” Clint says. “It’s a giant wheel that lifts you into the air. Perfect way to end the day.”

“It’s older than Cap,” Natasha throws in helpfully, smirking at Steve when he shoots her an exasperated look. 

“Your Midgardian traditions are so strange,” Thor says. “Interesting, but strange.” 

“I’m not hearing a no,” Clint says. 

“Hm.” Thor turns to look at Bruce, who looked surprisingly (and thankfully) content with himself. “Would you like to ride with me, Doctor Banner?”

Bruce reddens, and Tony doesn't feel so alone because it looks like Bruce has his own beefy blond problem he needs to deal with. "Sure, since you asked," Bruce responds, leaving just...Steve. 

Steve shares a look with Natasha, and Tony gets the sneaking suspicion that they planned this. Who knew that the fall of SHIELD would lead to one of the most dangerous alliances Tony had ever seen? 

"Tony," Steve begins, sounding like he's about to propose, he's so serious. "Want to ride with me?" 

His heartbeat quickens, and he's not sure why. It's not like it's a public declaration of love to ride with someone on a Ferris wheel. 

It'd look weird if he takes too long to answer, so Tony says, "Yeah. Sounds like a plan." 

They toss their trash and pick up their respective prizes they won throughout the day, Natasha with her light-up sword, Clint with his stuffed dog. Thor's lion hat from the strongman game sits proudly atop his head. Tony wants to make a joke about Hercules, but he also doesn't want to deal with the guaranteed headache he'll get when Thor replies with some mind-bending statement like he and Hercules are gym bros or other. Tony and Steve walk side by side, far behind the rest of their little group, bears in one hand, their free hands brushing with each step. 

Part of him knows that if he just reached over...if he took that extra step for Steve's hand...Steve would let him. It'd be so easy…

The line to the Ferris wheel isn't too long, and by the time Tony works up the courage to take Steve's hand, the volunteers are strapping them in. 

One of the volunteers lowers the bar over their heads, making sure that they're secure, and that's it. Tony's trapped. He's stuck on this Ferris wheel for the next ten minutes, and Steve is so goddamn close he can feel how hot his skin is from being out in the sun and—

"I'm not gonna bite, you know," Steve mutters when they start to ascend. He won't meet Tony's eyes. "I...I know you're afraid of me."

Tony swallows, his stomach twisting into knots at the thought of Steve thinking he feared him. 

"I'm not...Steve, I'm not afraid of you," Tony says. Steve's still looking down. He doesn't know where he gets the courage, but he cups Steve's face and makes him look at him. "You hear me? I'm not afraid of you." 

Steve's eyes have always been a weakness of Tony's, and right now, when they're so big and blue and so fucking sad, it doesn't do him any favors. They're almost at the top of the wheel. A stray breeze rustles a lock of Steve's hair, and Tony feels like he's on a cliff's edge. 

"Then why—" Steve begins, only to be cut off by Tony's lips. Tony closes his eyes and answers Steve the only way he knows how.

It's cliche, but Tony swears he can see fireworks going off behind his eyelids. Steve's lips are warm and soft and pliant against his. Tony deepens the kiss and slides one of his hands into Steve's hair, the other remaining on his face. He can taste the remnants of cotton candy on Steve's mouth. 

They break apart because, unfortunately, air is necessary to live. Tony has half a mind to invent a way for humans to survive without air if it meant he could spend the rest of his life kissing Steve. 

This high up, with the sun setting behind them, Tony wishes he had at least brought a jacket. 

Steve lifts his arm, "Here," he says. "Lean into me." Tony does just that and tucks his body into Steve's side, his arm is a reassuring weight around him.

The others are too far back to see Tony and Steve. It's easy up here, easy to forget that Steve's Captain America and Tony's a barely functioning former alcoholic with a slew of mental issues. 

He looks at Steve out the corner of his eye, takes in his features shamelessly and selfishly, the allure of being above everyone reeling him in. He loves Steve's face, the cut of his jaw, and his long, pretty lashes and those eyes. It's painful looking at him. Sometimes it feels like his heart's gonna swell up and pop right out of his chest when he looks at Steve. 

In that moment, he's glad they went to the carnival if only to forget the world for a little while.

#stony #stevetony #steve x tony #steve rogers #tony stark #marvel #mcu #stony fanfic #stony fic #stony fanfiction #superhusbands #my fic #my writing #imperialstark fic #choke on me

[kuriquinn]

Wait For Me

Blanket Fic Disclaimer

Original Prompt by: @toscafan

"Olá. Você poderia escrever uma fic onde após Sasuke voltar para a vila, Sakura vai em uma missão e é gravemente ferida. Então Sasuke percebe que seus sentimentos por ela cresceram quando ele a vê ferida no hospital. Talvez com um pouco de Naruto preocupado também. Eu imagino isso entre o período que Sasuke volta para Konoha e antes de eles partirem juntos em suas viagens. Suas histórias são maravilhosas :) eu sinto muito não escrever em inglês :( “

[Roughly:  Hello, Could you write a fic where after Sasuke returns to the village, Sakura goes on a mission and is seriously injured. Then Sasuke realises that his feelings for her have grown when he sees her injured in the hospital. Maybe with a bit of Naruto worried too. I imagine it between the time Sasuke returns to Konoha and before they leave together on their travels.]

Author’s Note: As promised during Evil Author Day, I am trying to finish some of my WIPs. I actually managed to finish this one (Prompt # 4), which is a total miracle given how I’ve been feeling lately. And the fact I think this one is like...two years old. So yeah, major backlog of stuff that needs writing. Enjoy!

Beta Reader: None but me and my editing software :)

________________________________________________________________

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

It shouldn’t have happened.

The words repeat themselves on a loop in Sasuke’s head, like a record player tossed asunder, skipping unerringly back over the same line in a song. In every momentary pause where the words begin to repeat, there is a breath, an extended moment of tension where his chest feels tighter and tighter.

She hasn’t been on active duty rosters since the war. Her field is medicine, not defense or combat or infiltration, and as strong and talented as Haruno Sakura is, she’s still human and prone to mistakes. Shinobi work isn’t like riding a bike. You have to continue to exercise your particular skillset daily, or mistakes can be made, leading to mishaps, leading to—

It shouldn’t have happened.

サスサク

When the call came in for a relief-force of medicnin, it wasn’t unusual. War or no, there are still major medical emergencies and disasters. In this case, reports reached Konoha of an earthquake 350 miles away. Though the village had barely experienced a tremor, the quake had apparently devastated the shepherding community living at the base of the mountain.

As a rule, Sakura should have stayed behind to coordinate everything from the village; with Tsunade on another of her gambling jaunts, she was the most senior healer.

But the devastated town was without its own medical corps, and the number of injured was overwhelming. Every able pair of hands was needed and naturally, Sakura volunteered herself for the mission.

“I can do the work of a dozen medics and they might need someone to lift debris,” she informed the Sixth Hokage when he seemed likely to protest. “I also trained the latest group of emergency medics going out there; they’re still relatively untested in the field. Better they take their orders from me than some random jounin that you assign.”

Kakashi knew better than to argue with his former student, but he was reluctant. For some reason, he was uneasy. There was little reason for it that he could discern, but after all his years as a shinobi, he had learned to heed his instincts.

“Please, Lord Sixth, there are many large families there, with children.”

Against that—with no concrete reason to give—he could not say no.

“Do you need anyone else beyond the emergency medics?”

“Any civilians with basic first aid training,” Sakura replied, pleased at the response. “Whichever doctors and staff can be spared. The general surgeons, perhaps, but no one with specialized training or technique that we would supper from losing.”

Kakashi nodded and made a gesture she recognized to mean an official granting of the request.

“Ideally, you’d send Naruto as well. He could use the Nine-Tails chakra to mass-heal the simplest injuries. It would make triage a lot faster.”

“That’s not in my power. I’m already on thin ice with the Elders for my executive order to pardon Sasuke. I doubt they’ll want him leaving the village any time soon.”

Sakura scowled.

Under normal circumstances she would argue—she had long ago made clear her dislike  and distrust for the village Elders—but every minute spent arguing was wasting crucial time.

“Can you try to convince them?” she asked as she turned to leave the office. “We should be sending out best for this.”

“We already are,” Kakashi said with ease, and there was a smile in his eyes. The one Sakura returned was only a little strained, mind already on her future patients.

サスサク

Sasuke was on a short, probationary mission at the time, in the complete opposite direction from the disaster zone. He didn’t even hear about the earthquake until two days later.

While handing his mission report to Kakashi, he may have been somewhat surprised to learn Sakura would not be around to greet him the way she usually did—and Kakashi’s eyes had a far too knowing gleam in them when he mentioned it—but it never occurred to Sasuke that she would be in any kind of danger.

At least, nothing she wasn’t capable of handling for herself.

For those two days, Sasuke carried out his usual routine, slowly acclimating to being back in service to the village. It still wasn’t his preference to be around so many people, and there was a constant sense of discomfort that lingered at the back of his mind. The sensation of eyes on him from all over, ANBU and civilian alike, heavy with judgement and fear. The only time that feeling abated, even for just a little, was when he was around Sakura, Naruto or Kakashi.

Still, he wasn’t willing or able to seek any of them out. They all have busy lives, and he earned that judgement and fear from the village. It would be an easy feat to leave and never return, but he didn’t deserve easy. Remaining here was part of his punishment, and so he would learn to live with it.

At home, when the constant surveillance became too much, he went to an empty training ground and put himself through various sword forms or engage in other exercises. In two years, he’s grown used to living and fighting with only one arm, but it’s the constant practice that keeps him lethal.

On the morning of the third day he is going through one of his complex sword kata in the training ground where Kakashi made them genin. He tells himself it’s coincidence and not sentimentality that brought him here this morning, even as the three posts stand vigil over his training like towers of memory.

Today he is working only on form and movement, not using any techniques requiring chakra, just trying to sharpen his movements into their usual lethal grace.

As he uncoils from a low final arc of his sword, returning to a resting position, there is a sudden cracking noise; his gaze snaps toward it, and he watches as—apropos of nothing—the wooden post to his far right splits right down the middle.

Sasuke immediately goes still, focussing his awareness around himself and the area, scanning for danger. There is no one in this place foolish enough to try something—even if he wasn’t lethal on his own, the ANBU escorts hidden in the shadows would have been alerted.

The wind continues meander, sending leaves rustling; the sound of birds and the distant crash of the river do not change. There is not threat that he can detect, nothing but a growing sense of foreboding.

And then the ground begins to shake.

As far as earthquakes go, it’s not the worst he’s experienced. He has no problem remaining on his feat as the ground roils and trembles. Even the trees surrounding him show no sign of shuddering.

It’s small and innocuous, nothing on the same level as the one Sakura was sent to help with.

His eyes drift, lingering on the cracked post.

Memory conjures an image of a gawky twelve year old with too-long-to-be-practical hair and luminous green eyes betraying strain and discomfort as she feeds their third teammate tied to the middle post.

It’s probably nothing.

But for some reason his focus on his exercises vanishes, replaced instead with a growing disquiet in the pit of his stomach.

It only grows with every moment as he returns to the village proper and, without knowing why, makes a beeline for Hokage Tower. All around him, people talk excitedly about the tremor, laughing it off and telling one another what they were doing when they noticed it. It’s just a facet of their day, something that—while uncommon—is not dangerous enough to merit panic.

So why does he suddenly feel uneasy?

サスサク

Sasuke arrives at the Tower at the same time as Naruto, a face which causes his inexplicable agitation to ratchet immediately higher, especially given his friend’s uncharacteristic frown and the absence of his usual joking greeting.

Without exchanging words, they enter Kakashi’s office and are immediately treated to the sight of their former instructor pacing by the window, a frown drawing his brows together. The coiled cord of the telephone stretches and relaxes with his back-and-forth movements. It’s so in contrast to his usual demeanor—lazily slouched in his chair—that Sasuke’s spine stiffens in response.

Kakashi eventually hangs up the phone and faces his students.

“There was a second earthquake,” he tells them gravely. “Right next to the refugee camp we set up. According to reports, about 180 million tons of mountainside have crumble down onto the camp. They don’t know if there are any survivors.”

Sasuke’s fist clenches and Naruto’s eyes blink into slits as he activates his senjutsu.

“I can’t sense Sakura’s chakra,” he says, a panicked note in his voice. “Usually I get a definite flicker from her, even at this distance…”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Sasuke tells him. “She masks her chakra when she’s on medical missions to avoid presenting a target.”

He’s not sure how he knows this, since he can’t recall if she mentioned any such practice in their conversations since he’s been back, yet he knows it to be true. Still, this knowledge brings no comfort with it, because the uncomfortable pit in his stomach remains.

“She would be healing everyone after a huge disaster like that,” Naruto protests. “I’d definitely sense that. But I can’t.”

Which, admittedly, worries Sasuke a little despite his unshakable faith in Sakura’s abilities.

Naruto turns to Kakashi, his shoulders squared as if in preparation for a fight. “I’m going to check on her. Even if she’s fine, they’ll need help digging survivors out. I can definitely help with that.”

“Fine,” Kakashi says. The fact he doesn’t argue or mention the concerns of the Elders is telling. “If you leave now, you should get there within—”

Sasuke doesn’t stay to listen.

He’s already climbing the stairs to the roof where there is more open space.

He is by no means an expert at using his Rinnegan yet—every day heralds a new ability or application—but he has more or less figured out how to travel between far distant locations instantly.

“Oi! Sasuke! Wait up!” Naruto shouts from behind as Sasuke focusses himself on creating a pathway. He glanced the coordinates he needs on the papers covering Kakashi’s desk, knows where he’s supposed to go—

The space in front of him crackles, displacing the air, and then rips open, forming a portal of swirling violet energy. On the other side, he can discern a giant wall of rubble.

He wastes no time slipping through, trusting Naruto to follow directly behind him.

サスサク

The sight before them is a grim one.

Sasuke hasn’t seen destruction on this scale since the war.

Mountains loom around them, the closest one looking misshapen due to the giant shelf that has vanished as if scraped off with a giant chisel. Its remnants spill out in front of it, creating a smaller mountain of churned earth and rock, uprooted trees and other debris.

People gather around, civilian and shinobi alike, covered in dust and digging frantically at the rubble. Likely the lucky few who were far enough away when the second quake hit to avoid the harm.

There are almost no Konohanin, medicnin or otherwise, that he can see, suggesting a grim truth to him: they are all underneath the remains of the mountain. Dead, most likely, or trapped and dying as the seconds pass.

But where is Sakura?

She could survive being buried under such weight, and should have dug her way out by now. Stone and rock are like cottage cheese to her strong fists.

“Naruto!”

The two newcomers glance up as a Konohanin scrambles toward them. As he gets closer, Sasuke recognizes him as the kid Sakura has taken on as an assistant. Ando something or other.

“We need help!” the kid gasps when he arrives in front of them, dust-covered and exhausted. “We can’t shift the earth using doton because it could hurt the people underneath.”

The jinchuriki is already forming the signs to summon up shadow clones. If this has to b cleared by hand, he’s the best man for the job. “Don’t worry about it, kiddo.”

“We’ll get through this without a problem!”

“Believe it!”

The clones are already spreading out across the landscape, like a sea of orange washing over the scene.

Sasuke stares down at the boy. “Where is Sakura?”

Ando goes pale beneath the fine layer of dust, eyes pained. “When the earthquake stared, she was trying to get everyone in the medical tents to safety. When she realized she couldn’t, she tried to create barriers to stop the worst of the damage using doton. But it was coming on too fast, and so she tried to slow down the avalanche—"

“Of course she did,” Sasuke murmurs to himself, teeth gritted.

“—but it wasn’t enough! The last I saw, she was destroying the rocks coming at her, but then she was buried.”

“And where were you in all this?”

There’s an accusation in his words that has made stronger men tremble, but Ando merely shudders and clenches his fists. No shrinking violets working with Sakura, that’s for sure.

“I was on water duty. The rivers here were all polluted by the first quake, and so I had to travel far. I saw it all from that cliff up there and hurried down here as fast as I could to help, but…”

He gestures ineffectively, clearly not knowing where to start.

“Sasuke!” Naruto yells all of a sudden, and Sasuke’s head whips toward where he is helping a woman with shredded clothing to climb from the rubble. She is remarkably stable on her feet, considering the situation, and Sasuke understands a moment later when he sees the white creature attached to her shoulder.

“Lady Katsuyu!” Ando cries and hurries over, followed closely by SAsuke.

“Where’ Sakura?” Naruto demands as the younger boy helps the quake victim to sit down. “Is she okay?”

“She’s at the very bottom,” Katsuyu says fretfully. “There’s an airpocket and she’ll still have air for a little while, but she’s gravely injured. Her entire lower body is crushed.” Sasuke’s heart constricts painfully. “I tried to help, but she insisted I attach myself to all the refugees, to keep them alive until help arrives. I fear she won’t be able to keep it up very long. Even my healing can’t save the people buried so long without oxygen.”

“Little fool,” Sasuke growls, the viciousness of the words surprising him more than the situation. Of course she’s more worried about the survival of her patients and the others instead of herself.

“We’re getting her out,” Naruto declares, summoning more clones. “We’ll get her and everyone else out!”

And Sasuke finds himself hoping this is another miracle that his friend’s mere presence and stubbornness will help pull off.

 サスサク

The task is arduous and time consuming.

Sasuke is bizarrely conscious of the speed at which the time passes—too fast. They continue dragging survivors out from beneath the rubble—all unharmed, but looking more and more shambled as the rescue efforts reach deeper into the rubble. Every so often, there is a red glow, and the unearth another person being Naruto has managed to sense and enfold in his healing chakra cloak.

Sasuke uses his snake summons for the first time in years, sending them from his sleeve to slither around and crush rocks blocking their path. He digs one-handed while Naruto and the clones make quick work of their chosen debris fields.

They have yet to find Sakura, or a person that as died of their injuries; all of them so far have had a miniature clone of Lady Katsuyu attached somewhere on their bodies.

Yet he can’t sense Sakura.

“Her chakra signature is everywhere,” he frets. “She’s channelling it through Katsuyu to keep everyone alone. I can’t get a proper read on her.”

“And you won’t,” Lady Katsuyu says in a tremulous tone. “The byakugou has disengaged—her strength has finally run out.” She shudders. “We’re too far away. There’s no way we’ll make it to her in time. And I can only linger here a few minutes longer without her sustaining me.”

“We’ll make it!” Naruto growls, tone and eyes harsh like that of a cornered fox. There’s a panic there, belying his words, because he clearly has no idea how they’re going to do that.

It’s that panic more than anything so far that makes Sasuke’s guts roil and a sickening nausea of fear well up within him. Because Naruto never gives up, he always has hope and he always has some kind of harebrained plan to fix a bad situation.

And if he doesn’t have one in this case, it means Sakura’s fate is sealed.

Which—

No.

“You have a clone with Sakura now?” he asks Katsuyu.

“O-of course,” the snail replies, almost surprised at being addressed so directly.

“You can share your chakra between one another. Can you share the chakra of someone else the same way?”

Naruto’s eyes widen as he catches on. “Yes! If I share my chakra with you and your clone, I’ll able to sense where your clone is and we can find Sakura faster.”

“We don’t have that kind of time,” Lady Satsuyu replies mournfully. “And besides, I can’t share your chakra, Naruto-kun. The chakra of biju is too volatile, and unless a blood contract has been made, like yours with the toads, it would become too volatile.”

“You wouldn’t need a contract with me,” Sasuke says. “My chakra is entirely my own.”

The slug’s head bobs to one side in consideration, and then she makes a noise of assent. “We can try.”

Sasuke holds out his hand, allowing Lady Katsuyu to inch closer, pressing herself up against his palm. There’s a beat of tense silence as they both concentrate, Sasuke infusing a burst of chakra in the tiny creature’s body.

She shudders from the force of it, her energy signature changing to a mixture of her own and his.

“It’s done,” she says, and he can feel a tiny twinge in his senses calling from far beneath the crumbled mountain.

Sasuke nods and begins to back away from the rubble. “Get beneath her.”

“I don’t understand,” Ando is saying. “How will that be any different from before? Lady Katsuyu was already able to direct us to Sakura.”

“He’s not just looking for Sakura’s location,” Naruto says with a grim smile. “He needs to know exactly where she is.”

“But why—?”

Sasuke tunes out the useless questions as he positions himself somewhere with a decent amount of clearance all around him. Bracing himself—he’s never tried this particular gambit before—he activates the Sharingan and reaches deep within his chakra reserves.

Instantly, violent purple energy manifests, bones and muscle and armor, as Susanoo encompasses him all around. The burning, ripping pain of it has almost become distant by now, and he focusses past it, still holding onto that shred of his chakra beckoning him from wherever Sakura is.

He turns his head, concentrating on the space in front of Susanoo’s empty right hand and activates the Rinnegan.

A portal twists into being from thin air, and Sasuke hardly waits before raising Susanoo’s hand and pressing the limb through the portal. He can distantly feel the weight of her against the flat of the hand as it materializes directly beneath her body, and then pulls her backward, shutting the portal immediately after extracting her to ensure none of the rubble baring down on her might follow.

As gentle as he can, Sasuke lays Sakura down upon the ground, Susanoo vanishing as her body touches the earth.

サスサク

Everyone is already kneeling around her when Sasuke touches back down, the chakra giant vanishing once more. Lady Katsuyu vanishes, no longer having Sakura’s strength to draw on, and Naruto is snapping something at Ando, probably to get help.

All of it washes over Sasuke in a meaningless, soundless wave as his eyes fall upon Sakura. His lungs tighten as he takes in her broken body.

Her legs are bruised and battered, crushed inward in some places and bones poking out of other places; it’s the same for her hips and several ribs. Her eyes are open and staring, a trail of blood leaking from the corner of her mouth and nose.

The sight is terrifying.

For a short yet eternal moment he is back in the streets of the Uchiha district, surrounded by the bodies of his family. Just as he was then, he is frozen now—inutile and incapable of doing anything.

“Naruto…” he begins, not knowing exactly what he’s trying to ask.

“This is bad,” Naruto says, voice strained. His eyes are slits once more, his sage mode active as a red film covers Sakura’s body. “I can heal the big stuff, but so much has been pulverized…” He swallows as if in physical pain; Sasuke knows the feeling. “She needs someone that can do surgery at the microlevel. If I heal her right now, like this, I could do a lot more harm then good.”

It’s a measure of how far Naruto’s come that he recognizes this, that he knows not to simply ram through his power and hope it helps.

Sasuke doesn’t know what will help now.

Scenarios and plans speed through a mind more suited for battle tactics than life-saving measures, as he tries to think of any way that he can help her and wishing for the first time in a long time that Karin were here.

Wishing he had ever taken the time to learn more about the healing arts than how to kill.

All the while, the sight of Sakura’s shattered limbs taunting him as her blood seeps into the sand.

Sasuke blinks.

Sand.

The memory hits him out of nowhere, the way many of his recollections from before do. Waking in a hospital, distantly hearing people talking about a fight—sand versus strength.

“Tsunade,” Sasuke says, remembering how the Fifth Hokage dealt with something similar. Right around the time she healed his mind from Itachi’s merciless assault on it, she saved Rock Lee from a life of paralysis.

Naruto is frowning, once again on the same wavelength as him. “No one knows where she is.”

“I’ll find her. Get Sakura back to Konoha—”

“No…”

Both of them jump at the pained, feeble voice and glance down.

Sakura’s eyes are closed now, clenched as tight as her jaw when she speaks through gritted teeth. “There are still…people…” She tries to raise a hand, gesture toward the rubble. “Naruto…stay and…help…”

“Sakura, no!” he snaps. “You’re in a mess right now, I need to keep you going until—”

“…Too much…damage…wasting your…chakra…”

“Sakura,” Sasuke says tersely, and her eyes shoot open toward him. Awareness flickers behind green irises, along with some surprise, as if she didn’t realize or expect him to be there.

“Sasu…ke…”

He shivers.

There has never been a time in his life when he and Sakura haven’t been aware of the presence of the other. The fact she didn’t notice him is telling in the severity of her injury…as is her not expecting him to be by her side.

After all, when has he ever been?

What has he ever done for her?

“We have to get her out of here,” Naruto says. “Do you have enough strength for another portal?”

Sasuke nods, though he isn’t sure; he’s used his abilities twice now in quick succession. But for Sakura, he’ll try.

The space beside them rips open, once more opening onto the familiar rooftops of Konoha as seen from Hokage Tower. All they need to do is step through, and so Naruto goes to pick Sakura up, only for her to scream in sudden sharp agony.

Sasuke’s heart stutters, his concentration wavering slightly, allowing the portal to shrink and contract worryingly.

“She’s too hurt,” Naruto says, panicked. “We need to keep her on her back or…I might sever something important.”

There are no stretchers here, no immobilizing aids to move her. If he had any idea where Tsunade Senju was, he’d seek her out and return her here instantly, but he doesn’t have that time and neither does Sakura.

“I’ll bring her,” Sasuke says.

“But—”

“You stay here. Help the survivors.”

There’s something on his face that keeps Naruto from arguing further, but Sasuke is no longer paying attention. Once again, he centers himself, trying to divide his power between the portal and call up Susanoo in just the right manner.

It takes searing concentration to manifest Susanoo’s hand in the space between Sakura’s body and the ground, letting the chakra fill in beneath her and keep her steady and supine.

Sakura’s eyes are wide, trained on him in something like desperation, before they roll back and she lapses into unconsciousness.

Sasuke’s lungs constrict, but he forces himself to work through it, to slide Susanoo’s hand straight through the portal until Sakura is no longer lying among the debris of the dead but in the safety of their village.

Sweat breaks out across his forehead and the back of his neck, and he tastes blood in his mouth, but he manages to retract the chakra within him. He’s about to step through when—

“Wait!”

He grits his teeth, eyes darting back to the kid—Ando—who has returned.

“Let me come too,” he says. “I can keep her stable, or—or go get someone from the hospital, or—”

“Go!” Sasuke snarls, half from effort and half from irritation the boy is taking up valuable seconds.

A terrified expression breaks over Ando’s face for a moment, before he throws himself headlong through the portal.

“Find Tsunade,” Sasuke tells Naruto as he follows. He doesn’t have to hear the response to know he will.

サスサク

He has no right to be here.

The intensive care wing of Konoha’s hospital is a flurry of movement as doctors and nurses and medic-nin rush in and out of the surgery where they are working on Sakura. He lingers outside the doors, his own self-recrimination keeping him out here more than the ‘Staff Only’ sign on the door.

He doesn’t deserve to be here, to hear news of her condition. He left—he’s always leaving—and she’s always waiting. She’s always here and he realizes with a sudden disbelief that somehow, somewhere along the line something in him has taken that for granted.

Ever since the War, ever since watching her blossom into her abilities and to demonstrate power that makes her neigh indestructible, he’s been thinking of her as if she is. As if she’s a constant that will never change, that will always exist.

Like she’s immortal.

Except she’s not, she can die like anyone else.

It’s something taken for granted in their line of work, but medic-nin die the same as anyone else in the service. And Sakura would be the first to insist she is no more important than anyone else, that her life is the same value as any of their comrades. He knows if given the choice she’d sacrifice that same life without any regret—hell, he watched her try to do just that today.

That knowledge—and the reality of what is happening behind that door in front of him, the image of the light in her eyes dying—steals his breath.

Will that be his last memory of her? A broken body pulled from a wreckage?

Very real terror grips him then, something he hasn’t felt in years. A close, clawing sensation and his lungs constricting as something jagged forms in his throat. Nightmares of blood in the streets, blood in his hands and the rush of a waterfall in the background, the chirping of lightning in his ears—

“Sasuke.”

His head jerks up, the world around him returning, senses no longer going haywire to stave off the incoming panic.

Kakashi is standing beside him—when did he get here?—eyes somber. There’s a beat before he reaches out, hesitant, and lays a hand on his shoulder.

It’s as if a current is going through him, memories from long ago, that same hand on his shoulder. It’s the first time Kakashi has reached out to him since he left Konoha as a child.

“I’ve had news from Naruto,” his former instructor continues. “He’s found Tsunade.”

And somehow with those three words, every bit of tension in Sasuke’s body evaporates. He realizes he hasn’t been breathing and tries his best not to gulp for air, forces himself to inhale slowly through his nose, to not lose his composure.

Kakashi, of course, is not fooled. “Sakura will be alright. She’s strong.”

Sasuke wants to reply that he knows, he’s always known, but his tongue is still frozen. Instead, he returns his gaze upon the door, trying to sense what is happening beyond it.

He feels Kakashi remove his hand, but the man’s intense stare remains on him.

“I should go,” he eventually manages to say. Yet his legs refuse to move.

“You should stay. You’re exactly where you need to be.”

“I’m not—”

“You’re exactly where she needs you to be.”

Sasuke’s protest dies before it was truly born, and he goes back to trying to breath. Inhale and hold; exhale and repeat. It doesn’t matter what he needs or wants, after all.

Why?

Sakura is Sakura. Yes, they have always had a connection, a bond, but it’s the same connection he’s had with the rest of his former squad. You can’t go on missions or into battle with one another without developing a synchronicity. Even if the connections are different.

With Kakashi it’s the kindred spirit of someone who has lost everything almost the same as he has, with Naruto it’s a bond that can never be replicated for the most complicated of cosmic reasons.

And yet…with Sakura, there’s something different there.

He always thought it was nostalgia, the last lingering remnants of a weak child desperate for whatever scrap of affection was offered to him after losing his parents. Every moment he’s ever spent with her, he pretended like it didn’t affect him at all; and yet, there was always that eagerness he had to tamp down, wanting to see the smile on her face because he knew he didn’t deserve it.

A smile he missed in the years training with Orochimaru, then wandering the world in penance. He knows she’s had feelings for him since they were children, and has has spent most of his last years hoping against hope that she’ll let him go and move on.

That she’ll find someone else, someone worthy of her, someone who will keep her safe and guard her heart against pain. Because that’s all he can give her is pain; tht, and a soul that will never completely heal.

Except it wont matter, will it, if she dies?

She’ll be gone, and he’ll be empty again. No matter where he goes, he’s always known that somewhere, Sakura is out there, keeping him in her heart. He knows that even if she does find another, there will always be a part of her that thinks of him, just like he will always have a part of him that thinks of her.

But if she dies…if she doesn’t make it through this…

Suddenly he can see it.

Years stretch out in front of him, bleak and empty and gray. Visits to a gravestone of a life that could have been. Regrets and pain and an endless void of existing instead of living.

More of everything he endured as a child, only this time, without the tiny ray of sunlight that Sakura willingly gave him.

And suddenly, he realizes he doesn’t want that.

A world without Sakura in it, is not one that he wants to be a part of.

He wants her—needs her—to be happy. And if her happiness is him…if he could ensure that happiness somehow…

Well, he’ll do whatever it takes.

Sasuke takes a shuddering breath at the realization.

It feels sudden, like a switch has been flipped with realization, and yet at the same time he knows it has always been this way.  

He’s in love with Sakura.

The world returns then in sharp focus, ignorant to the realizations he’s just made. Kakashi is still eyeing him with concern. Perhaps wondering if he’s going to have to talk him out of leaving the hospital, even though Sasuke knows that he’s not going anywhere until he can watch her open her eyes again.

Until she smiles at him again.

Maybe not even then.

“I’ll wait for her then,” he says, shaken but still somehow managing to control the timbre of his voice. He leans against the wall, eyes once more resting on the door in expectation.

I’ll wait for her forever.

終わり

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#sasusaku #ssm18 #ssm18day14 #prompt: wait for me #fanfic prompts/requests #kuriquinn #one-shot #sasuke uchiha #sakura haruno #naruto uzumaki #kakashi hatake #drama #romance #realizations

[heelwriting]

Do You Have Any Denim?- Orange Cassidy

Fandom: Wrestling, AEW

Pairing: Orange Cassidy/unnamed OFC

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff

Words: 3,137

Summary: OFC is forced to be in a team with Orange Cassidy.

A/N: Hi, this is the first fanfic i post here, hope you like it!

Masterlist | Buy Me coffee

When she arrived to the venue that day everything was normal, she went to the board to see if she had a match on the card, she wasn’t positioned as high on the card as Britt or Riho but had earned a place on AEW.

Kenny was writing on the wall the last few matches, the ones that were taped for DARK.

“Is this a joke?”

She asked him after seeing her name on the board, he looked at her and smiled.

“It’s true, people seem to connect with you, we thought it was the right spot for you, just take the opportunity”

“Thank you, it’s not that, just the name besides mine, how do you expect me to work with him?”

“You’ll find a way”

She was left without any options, she had to team with Orange Cassidy, they were facing Penelope Ford and Kip Sabian, they were a cohesive unit, and them, well, she never crossed paths with him, never even talked to him.

She wanted to have a plan before going out so she went to search for him, she didn’t found him, she asked around and apparently he wasn’t there, even Chuck and Trent didn’t know where he was.

She was getting frustrated, all she could do was get her ring gear on, makeup and hair ready, and mentally prepare for the match. Hours passed and she was freaking out, they didn’t have anything planned, she never found Orange, it was all out of her hands.

It was time to go out, Penelope and Kip were already in the ring.

“Is he even here?”

She asked Kenny.

“He is, he always takes his time”

“My music is about to play, I swear I’m going…”

“Hey! About time”

Kenny said looking behind her, she turned to see him, in full gimmick, glasses on, hair slicked back, not a care to give.

He gave her a nod.

“Let’s do this baybee”

She could have sworn he winked behind the sunglasses, either way, her knees almost gave out after hearing him talk, it took her music to play for her to finally respond.

“Whatever”

She played it cool, gave him a cold look and went out, she received a good response from the crowd, but she wasn’t prepared to hear the pop of her partner, people were crazy to see Orange Cassidy and even if she felt jealous of his popularity, she was crazy for him too.

He went inside the ring and gave her a lazy fist bump, surprisingly he started the match with Kip, but soon she was tagged in, the match went well, they teamed up at the end, him hitting a springboard splash onto Kip on the outside, while she hit a swinging DDT on Penelope for the win.

He went inside the ring, slowly making his way to the center, the referee took their hands up in victory, she was still catching her breath, he talked to the ref and was given back his sunglasses, he put them on and walked towards her.

“Good job”

He said, then he took her hand and raised it, when her hand went down he didn’t let go of it, their eyes crossed for a second, ultimately he released her hand, he started walking to the ropes but then went back and looked at her again, taking his glasses off, he put them on her.

She tried no to look surprised by everything he did, but she was taken back by the little details.

He left her inside the ring and she watched as he went to take pictures with the fans, his music was playing as the tapings went to a close, Kenny, Cody and the Bucks went outside to have a moment with the public, she stayed for the segment, Orange did as well, he and Kenny shared a look and she was confused, but didn’t put much thought in it.

The rest of the week went as planned, well, except she couldn’t stop thinking about Orange, normally she didn’t look up her own matches but DARK aired and she had to see it to be sure it was all true and not a product of her imagination.

The next set of tapings arrived and she once again found herself looking at the board, this time Matt was writing.

“Hey, I was just about to write your name”

“I’m just in time then”

She said smiling.

“Yes”

Matt said, as he kept writing.

She realized what he had spelled, her name was beside Orange Cassidy's, again, only this time she was his valet, his, that was a strange word to phrased it.

“What? Again? Last time he almost didn’t show up”

She complained.

“That’s how he is, just relax and do your thing”

Matt said, trying to comfort her.

“I don’t know how to valet, not for him at least”

Matt stopped writing and turned around to see her.

“Oh come on, you guys have great chemistry, people loved to see you two together, Kenny thinks this will evolve into a regular pairing”

He explained.

“Regular? Oh God”

Her hands went to her face, she almost felt like fainting, he put a hand on her shoulder.

“Look, we tried to think what suits your character best and this seems to be the way, just run with it”

He said and then went back to writing on the wall.

All her bosses sounded the same, she took it to heart, she had to make this work, even if Cassidy, like this character, didn’t put much effort into their business relationship, and even if she could barely concentrate with him around, she still couldn’t believe she survived a match having him that close, probably watching her wrestle.

It was her curtain call, she knew he would be late, he appeared walking slowly towards her, hands in his pockets, hair wet and slicked back, he took out a hand and ran it through the strands of his hair.

“We meet again”

He said, a small smile plastered on his face, she nodded and looked away, trying to not look uncomfortable in her skinny jeans, heels and leather jacket combo, she preferred wrestling, being a valet made her feel like eye candy, and she didn’t feel like she fit that mold.

They waited for commercials to be over, it was almost their cue.

“Do you have any denim?”

She turned around surprised by his question.

“No, I don’t”

He rolled his eyes and then he took off his jacket, took out the sunglasses out of the pocket and he put them on.

“Take off your jacket”

Her eyebrows frowned.

“What?”

“Just do it”

She did as he said, too shocked but doing it anyway because they were next, she handed her jacket to one of the production people, Orange’s music started playing as he put his denim jacket over her shoulders.

“Much better”

He gave her a thumb up, and walked outside, she went a step behind, receiving the pop from the crowd first hand since she walked with him, she cheered him to a victory over Shawn Spears.

After the match, she went inside the ring to raise his hand, feeling shivers as their hands touched, he looked at her for a second too long, she felt the blushing on her face and then almost ran to the back, wanting to be as far away from him as she could, her feelings were clouding her judgment.

“It was in character” she told herself not wanting to raise her own expectations too high.

 “Where is my bag?”

She said out loud in the locker-room, someone took her bag, she was thinking who could have done it, she was new but not new enough to be a prank.

“Dustin came for it earlier”

Leva Bates answered.

“Dustin?”

She was confused, she didn't have anything to do with him.

“Yes, Chuck Taylor”

“Thanks”

She ran and asked around for Dustin, someone saw him leaving for the parking lot, she ran and actually found him, Greg and Orange.

“Good, you're here”

Dustin said smiling, she was still catching her breath, her hands were forming fists.

“Why did you take my bag?”

Dustin looked at her, then at Orange and back at her, her arms crossed, there was a bit of panic between the Best Friends.

“You said she knew”

Dustin yelled at Orange.

“In my defense, she ran away before I could say anything”

Orange said.

“About what?”

She asked confused, Orange took a few steps forward, trying to appear more calmed, seeing she was upset.

“Ride with us to the hotel?”

“Oh”

Her arms got loose instead of crossed, she was taken back by his proposal, never thought she would be in that situation, one thing was being teammates in the ring, this was more personal.

“If you want to”

He added, seeing the gears turning in her head.

“Yeah we weren’t trying to ambush you or anything”

Greg said, trying to help their cause.

“I should have asked before, I’m sorry, but since we are teaming I thought we could spend some time together”

Orange said, his eyes soft, she couldn’t say no, she came to the realization that he was her weakness.

“You should have asked first, I was scared because my bags were not in the looker-room”

She was still a little upset.

“I’m sorry”

He said sincerely.

“Well, I guess I could go with you guys then, but never do that again”

She pointed at them with one finger, they nodded, not wanting to make the situation worse.

It was a nice trip, turns out they were lovely guys, she finally exchanged phone numbers with Orange, she didn't text him during the week but she found yourself thinking of doing it.

 Another Wednesday arrived, she was excited to see him, only problem was, her bags ended up in the wrong flight.

“What do you mean in UK? I need them here tonight”

“I’m sorry ma’am, they will be here until tomorrow morning or we can send it to your home address, sorry for the inconvenience”

She wanted to scream, all her gear and street clothes were lost, for at least a day, she went to sit in the airport launch, when someone sat next to her.

“Hey, you ok?”

She recognized his voice, she waited the whole week to hear him, it wasn’t the best moment to greet him but she had no choice.

She breathed out, and looked at him.

“I need clothes, my bag won’t be here until tomorrow”

“Let’s go then”

He got up in a heartbeat, determined to help her, she was still on her sit, not much effort into getting up, Orange saw she had no intentions of moving so her took her hand and pulled her up, surprisingly easy.

He searched for the nearest mall and they went shopping, she told him what to look for, since he volunteered to help, stretch pants, sports bras, jeans, comfy clothes but wearable for tv. He disappeared for a few minutes but she wasn’t putting much attention to him, she wanted to get done with shopping and go to the venue.

“You need to buy this”

When she turned around, he was closer than she though, he didn’t have his sunglasses on, it was the first time she could really see his bright blue eyes, his black clothes making him look paler, his hair was dry so she could see how blond he really was.

Not much people were around, just the two of them, he wasn’t much taller than her, but it was a nice height difference, his eyes fixed on hers for a moment, she forced herself to look away, opting to see what he had brought.

A denim jacket, almost the same color as his ring attire.

“Really? Classic Orange right here”

She said laughing, he smiled at her.

“You know you can’t call me Orange all the time, right?”

She acted confused, they didn’t actually introduce themselves, so no names were established.

“Then, how should I call you?”

“Well, everyone calls me Jim”

Her eyebrows frowned.

“I’m not calling you Jim, I could call you Cassidy”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“I guess that’s better”

She ended up getting the jacket to match with him and a few other items to serve as her ring gear for the night.

People noticed they arrived together, they didn’t really care what people thought but they certainly noticed the looks. Dustin and Greg where already reading the board, she had to team with them both, against Sadie Gibbs and TH2.

Chuck and Trent went outside first, Orange came out but noticed she didn’t, he came back for her, taking her hand and forcing her to go, not giving her the option of going back, she was nervous, the new look wasn’t even her choice and she was conscious about it.

“Come on, you look great”

He laced their fingers together and she took a breath, not only was she wearing new clothes but she had to ignore how natural it felt holding hands with him. She wore black leggings and a white merch t-shirt, it was a win in Orange’s eyes, well, he was biased, his face was on her chest.

The Best Friends separated the ring ropes for her to come in, it was a nice detail, they had become somewhat closer thanks to Cassidy. Orange was up to his usual stunts hitting Evans and Angelico with a crossbody, the finish saw her hit a hurracarrana to Sadie on the outside as Best Friends hit strong zero on Evans.

Suddenly she became very conscious of what would happen, Orange stayed in the middle of the ring while Chuck and Trent took a corner, she did the same, the thing is, they barely had touched, only the few times he took her hand, but not much was required when they were teaming.

Under his sunglasses, in the corner of his eye, she could see him watching her coming closer, she almost squinted her eyes, Chuck and Trent hugged his sides but she had to hug him from the front, the closeness to his body was the death for her, his scent was intoxicating, she didn’t want to let go, Orange’s hand held her waist for a few seconds before Best Friends broke the hug, she bit her lip nervously, that went well.

 “Are you coming with us?”

Dustin asked her after the match.

“I don’t know”

They wanted to go have dinner and have a few drinks, she didn’t like having much people around.

“Jim is going to be there”

His voice high pitched as he said it, she hit his arm.

“Don’t manipulate me like that”

“You’re coming, right?”

She heard Cassidy’s voice coming behind them, she closed her eyes and breathed.

“Yes”

She said defeated, Dustin smiled mocking her.

“I knew you couldn’t say no”

Dustin said with a big grin, she huffed.

After they had dinner she went outside, she was feeling a bit left out, with so many people in there it got hectic.

Soon she was followed.

“Why are you outside? Its freezing and you don’t have a coat, you’re going to get sick”

Orange said, his eyebrows frowning watching as her arms were crossed hugging herself trying to shield from the cold night.

“I know, but I don’t have much option, I wasn’t feeling well, I needed fresh air and I don’t have clothes for this weather because my bag is not here, and I bought a jean jacket because someone said it was cool”

She said complaining, he scratched the back of his head, feeling a little guilty, he then rolled his eyes knowing what he had to do, he took her hand.

“Come on”

They walked to the rental van, and he opened the trunk taking a thick coat out of his suitcase, he handed it to her and then closed everything, he turned around looking at her, she had put it on, the sleeves were a little too long but it fit well and she was no longer freezing to death.

She was looking at the stars, he looked at her for a moment, his back against the van.

“Can I be honest with you?”

She looked around to see him, he seemed a bit off, almost nervous.

“Sure”

She said nonchalant.

“I asked Kenny to make us a team”

Her eyes went wide, not expecting to hear him say that, he had his eyes on her, he was observing her reaction cautiously.

“Really? But why?”

She asked, not understanding where this was going.

“I didn’t know how to talk to you”

“Well, we have talked”

She said, stating the obvious.

He watched the ground for a bit, moving his feet nervously.

“I know, but you kind of leave me without words”

He said, looking at her with a beautiful smile on his face, a hopeful smile.

“Oh”

She said with realization, she felt the same every time she saw him.

He took a step forward, his face a few inches from hers.

“There is just one thing that I need to do”

He put his hand over her cheek, they stared at each other eyes for a second before closing the distance, and as if asking for permission, his lips brushed against hers lightly, until she pushed the back of his neck taking him closer to her, their lips meeting in the middle, it was a slow and passionate kiss, his facial hair rubbing her skin, a feeling that she would come to love.

When they separated, he stared at her, still breathless.

“So… they said we'll be a regular pairing”

He said smiling, she did the same.

“Do you want us to be a regular pairing? But like… outside of AEW?”

He asked as he took her hand in his, waiting for an answer.

“Cassidy, are you asking me out?”

She was almost sure he meant it, but wanted to be sure, and partly said it just to tease him.

“Yes, so… would you?”

He asked.

“I would love that”

She answered, joy almost pouring out of her voice.

He smiled, then his lips meet hers, one of his hands going her waist, the other went to her face as he tilted to the side to deepen the kiss, his tongue moving inside of her mouth, his breath hot against her skin, there was no cold, her hands went to the back of his neck, trying to memorize every move he made.

Their breathless lunges hurried them to separate and get some air, they didn’t say anything for a while, just held each other close, their hearts beating fast, they had all the night, all the time to figure things out.

Originally posted on March 10, 2020

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