#ok enough fluff i need this man to rail me so hard i see stars then give me the best aftercare of my entire life

[iceman-soup]

masc!reader x roach

Fuck's sake, you're thinking, laying in bed, wide awake and somehow still feeling like you have done all day - ready to fall asleep at the first opportunity. And now it's here, the room in darkness aside from the moonlight through the open blinds just the way you like it, and yet your exhausted body refuses to shut off. Typical.

If it weren't for how damn quickly your lips got cracked and dry, you'd be breathing through your mouth. Thankfully, you're not forced to do so quite yet - although the way your stuffy nose is sounding at every inhale, you might be soon, and that would be the equivalent of admitting defeat. So far, you'd been ignoring your earache, headache, every ache you had; you'd put aside how your eyes hurt and your legs and arms were tired from more than just training exercises with the rookies.

Now, though, you couldn't quite dismiss it, and it was catching up to you. Damn fast. Tossing and turning in the too-warm blankets (despite it being 2°C in the barracks, due to the inconveniently-timed broken heating), you let out a frustrated sigh, pulling on your comfy military socks and a hoodie and padding out from your tiny room, shoulders hunched against the chill.

Trodding through the corridors, wishing you'd bothered to put on shoes, you soon found yourself in the mess hall, quiet and dark and empty. You hated how eerie it was at night, but did appreciate the little coffee and tea machines at the sides, however cheap they tasted. Grabbing a chipped mug and pressing the breakfast tea option, you let your tired head fall to your chest, closing your eyes and swaying a little where you stand.

As the tea finishes making itself, you pick up the mug, grateful for its warmth, and sit yourself down at a nearby table, blowing your nose with a scratchy napkin but glad it was there anyway. More mulling over the tea than drinking it, you lay your head down, foggy mind drifting from thought to thought and not noticing the other man enter the mess hall.

A gentle tap on the shoulder jolts you upright, and you realise how you're sitting in almost complete darkness as your eyes adjust to make out the figure of Roach standing in front of you. He's wearing a set of matching pyjamas - one of those soft, chequered ones with a button-up shirt and drawstring trousers tied in a floppy bow - and fluffy socks, and is missing his usual helmet, goggles and gloves. Which you suppose is expected seeing as it's probably early hours of the morning. That being said, he's got on a smaller version of his normal mask, covering only the bottom half of his face.

"Are you okay?" he asks, tapping his fingers to his chest then doing a double thumbs-up to sign it. You smile tiredly, trying to be polite and say you're fine but your voice is raspy and painful when you speak. Roach tilts his head slightly at you, then points at the tea and signs for you to drink it. Too ill to argue, you do as he says and watch as he picks up your now-empty mug, putting it to the side apparently for someone else to clean up, then holding his hand out expectantly.

"What're'y' doing?" you mumble, taking his hand and entwining your fingers as you stand up, leaning into his body almost instinctively. He tries to sign something, but with only one hand free and your groggy brain, the message doesn't really get across. You follow him blindly anyway, not really caring so long as you can nab his warmth for as long as possible.

He leads you along the corridors of the barracks to a room that definitely isn't your own, going by the completely different layout and the fact that there's a knocked out Lieutenant in one of the bunks. You don't bother to question it when you're bundled into the bed opposite and followed by Roach, who wraps the seemingly infinite blankets around the both of you and presses a firm kiss to your forehead through his mask, despite the fact you're not at all dating or even close to this being normal.

He doesn't give you time to argue (not that you have the brain power to anyway), instead pushing you to lie down and quickly cuddling into your side, resting his head on your shoulder and tracing absent-minded patterns into your chest. You curl your arms around him, letting your mind catch up.

"Did you just kidnap me to snuggle with?" you process after a moment, glancing down to see him nod. "You share a room with Ghost." Another nod. "And you couldn't've gone the three metres over to his bed?" Roach hesitates; thinks. Then shakes his head stubbornly, legs tangling with yours.

Maybe that scratchy napkin was just brilliant, but you're certainly not feeling as ill and uncomfortable as before when you finally drift off to sleep, the Sergeant in your arms as your own little personal weighted warming blanket.

#ok enough fluff i need this man to rail me so hard i see stars then give me the best aftercare of my entire life #gary roach sanderson #cod fluff #roach x male reader #cod men x male reader #x male reader #x masc reader #roach fluff #roach x reader

[powercloud]

At The End of The Day

pairing: tsukishima kei × reader

wc: 2.4k

genre: fluff, pining!tsukki

warnings: timeskip tsukishima, ooc tsukishima maybe(?) He's just so in love with you okay :(

The night was getting colder, the sky already a pretty shade of black, and the moon hung over their heads with a smile. Tsukishima took this as a good sign as if the moon smiling is a green light to pursue his plan. He looks over to you, your eyes distant and looking straight ahead, you were bracing yourself under the blazer he lent you. The view was astonishing. Under you and him the city was busy, flashes of light twinkling brightly, almost nearly outshining the bright stars above. The breeze was noisy as well, blowing your and his hair. But the warmness of Tsukishima’s heart was enough not to completely freeze him over, he was more worried about you though. But after a few stolen, glances he figured you were all right. The rooftop was your favorite, you've gotten used to it.

It's been silent between the two of you. You always fill in the quiet with your antics and puns and dumb realizations, but Tsukki supposes that’s why he was oddly fond of you after a week of knowing you first year in high school.

It’s been years since he concluded he was in love with you. Specifically three, but if he ever mentions the exact number he feels like a hopeless idiot. If he told you about that, would you call him so? He’d never know unless he confesses.

Tsukishima tightens his grip on the metal railings, his knuckles turning white. He bites his lower lip, nearly making it bleed. He’s nervous, he’s scared but he’s willing to push through it. All for you.

Tsukishima steals yet another yearning glance at you, this time his head snaps forward when you caught him red-handed cheeks turn a bit red before he sniffs and got a hold of himself. You laugh gently at his uncharacteristic expression.

“Something bothering you?” you ask, taking one or two steps closer to him. Any more he’d explode.

“Nothing,” Tsukishima lies. And you know this because you always have this certain facial expression where you’re unsure of his answer; one well-defined eyebrow rise, the bridge of your nose scrunched slightly, and your lips on a pout. You always were adorable when you were sure he was lying.

“Well, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Sometimes Tsukki wishes you knew how close he held you in regard, how he won’t get upset if you push him further into questioning. Hell, he’d tell you the truth right away.

But you turn away, leaving him be and respecting his privacy, eyes back forward and thoughts miles away.

Tsukishima follows where you were looking, and he wonders what you were thinking. The future? The past? The inevitable fall of humanity and the universe?

Him?

Tsukishima would very much like to know if you’d thought of him. He won’t hesitate to tell you he’s thinking of you, too. Most days you never go away from his mind. He wants you to think of him right now as he’s thinking of you, too. But Tsukishima thinks that’s not the case. You never look so troubled when you were thinking of a person unless you worried.

Tsukishima nudges your elbow with his, and finally, he looks at you straight in the eyes, flushing lightly as always. “What’s bothering you?” He asks, his mouth in a straight line, seemingly uncaring.

“Nothing, just—” you sigh deeply, shoulders falling. Tsukki holds his breath, maybe it would be you that confesses? He always thought you liked him back. Tsukki waits as your gaze flutter from the city below then finally to his honeysuckle eyes. “I don’t know if I’d rather wake up in the middle of a war or the middle of a zombie apocalypse.”

He mentally slapped himself for assuming you’d be the first to say something sentimental.

Of course, he thought to himself disappointingly. On a daily, you weren’t even worried about important things like school or true love. You were thinking of choices you’d likely choose in a situation that would never happen, like the zombie apocalypse you mentioned.

You don’t think of me much, do you?

Tsukishima tries to hide his disdain. “I thought you said you had a plan when the zombies come.”

“Yeah, but I mean, like at the beginning of every zombie apocalypse movie, y’know. Like when they start growing in rapid numbers, and the panic rising out of people, the raging undead and their unquenchable thirst for human blood. As in the part where they just start flooding in.” you were very dramatic in using hand gestures. “I don’t know what I would do if that suddenly happened.

“That would never happen,” said Tsukki and you frown, and he smirks, always enjoying irking you. “Neil D. Tyson already said so.”

“Thank God. But still—if it could, what would you rather wake up in the middle of, Tsukki?” you ask him, leaning closer again and his heart palpates. “War or the apocalypse?”

He pretends he’s thinking hard, then he just shrugs nonchalantly, then you whine and tell him how he’s such a killjoy. If he were honest and cheesy, whatever situation he’d suddenly wake up to, Tsukishima wouldn’t hesitate to protect you in either one.

“Women can’t fight in a war, pick war,” Tsukki said, and he smirks again as you scoff and roll your eyes.

“You know how much I’m brave.” Oh, he knows alright. You were intensely afraid of heights, yet look where your favorite spot in the whole world is. “I wouldn’t think twice to enlist,” you said, chest puffed out. “’sides, it’s the 21st century, Tsukki, equality is much softer now. It's indulged..”

“And?” Tsukki encourages you to go on as it looked like you wanted to add something.

“War is worse than hell. I’m fine laying down my life for what’s right, but I’m not ok with children dying or starving, or widows crying over their dead husbands or wives, or old people going cripple. I don’t like seeing good people get hurt.”

God, you were always such a fucking wholehearted, good, kind, courageous, generous person. He loves you so fucking much it hurts to think you’d sacrifice your life for the people you don’t even know.

“Always such a martyr, aren’t you?” you punch Tsukishima on his shoulder. He only laughs at your feeble attempt to hurt him. When you push yourself away to frown again, Tsukki softens. “If you think those kinds of people don’t deserve to die you need to know that you don’t deserve it, too. Fuck dying for the country. Wars are bullshit.” Tsukki had to cut out the part where he’d say he’d want you to hide with him. Later, he tells himself, it's too early.

“Well, you’re not wrong,” you said.

“I have never been.”

“Shut up, jackass.”

“You first, dumbass.”

After a few petty insults are thrown at each other you both settle down with Tsukishima letting you win. He doesn’t care if you call him a salty bitch, as long as he gets to see you grin triumphantly after.

Then it was silent again. The wind was stronger this time. One blow and you gripped Tsukishima’s blazer and winced as you took the cold bite. Tsukishima wanted to wrap his arms around you to keep you warm, uncaring of the fact he was cold, too. Very. He had nothing else on besides his thick sweater, apparently not thick enough. Tsukishima wanted to lead you downstairs, back to the party which he’s sure has died down by now. It was nearly 2 in the morning.

But before you two could go he wanted to say something first. Confess before another perfect moment like this slips from his fingers. He looks at you, and you’re so gorgeous. Your hair is a perfect mess behind your head. Your cheeks are flushed, and you kept wetting your lips as the cold had dried them. The city lights shadowed perfectly on the half bottom of your face, the stars mirrored in your eyes. You were serene, too. Seemingly enjoying this time. This time with him.

It was either now or never.

“I love you,” he told you. Except he told the wind instead as another harsh blow blew on the rooftop. You and him wince simultaneously, but both for very different reasons. You hadn’t heard him, that was obvious, because you hadn’t as much reacted any differently. Tsukishima knows you weren’t pretending to not hear him either. Unlike him, you weren’t mean. You would even acknowledge the ignored person who tried to relay a message across a group with a curt nod, and an inviting smile—you listened, as Tsukishima was the reason for that person being reluctant in talking.

Tsukishima frowns, his heart falling. Above him, the smiling moon disappears behind a gray cloud, a red light. Maybe tonight wasn’t the night after all. Maybe no night was the night. But it would be stupid of him to give up after one try. Tsukishima would never forgive himself for letting you go so easily. He knows at the end of the day it’d always be you he loves. He knows he’ll follow his heart to you even though it would break sometimes.

Jesus, he thought. Love is frightening.

A few months later was another perfect moment to tell you Tsukishima’s true feelings. He had just come home from his night shift from the museum, coffee in his hands yet he was still tired and exhausted, but when he saw you sitting down in front of his apartment door, waiting, he smiles to himself.

Once you sensed him, you looked up from the floor you were sitting on, eyes huge and jade. Most people compare eyes to oceans or galaxies. Not your eyes though, they reminded Tsukishima of his favorite thing. Glancing down and his tiny plastic toy dinosaur, and then sliding further down to your green eyes. Tsukishima realized that’s probably why he felt so awake when he was with you. You were like a loud inspiring roar in the morning.

You had plans, you told him. There was a spot in the park, though you suppose it wasn’t even part of the park anymore. There was a forest, more natural than man-made, just beside the park. And when you were bored one day, you ventured through it and found the most amazing spot to view the sky. There were no outside noises, not another human has found it, you prided yourself in that. There were lots of pests and insects though, which was why you brought with you two huge blankets.

So there you two were, beneath the galaxy, feeling small and vulnerable to alien sight. But it was utterly beautiful.

The two of you lie on top of a small hill covered in grass and pretty flowers, there were trees around but it was a clearing where you and he were at. Looking up it was as if the sky was moving and the stars were burning bright. He held your hand shamelessly. And he thanked every God listening when you didn’t pull away, instead you wrapped it firmly as if you’d be taken by a UFO and he’d be your only grip to this Earth.

“Did you see that, Tsukki?” you asked, flabbergasted. You had to let go of his hand to prop yourself up and point to the violet sky. “I think I saw an alien ship!”

“They’re coming to get you,” Tsukishima said. Leaning on his elbow to snicker at you. “Their long-lost family.”

You punch him on his shoulders and he laughs. It’s been years but Tsukishima knows his saltiness isn’t going anywhere.

You lie down again, Tsukishima does the same but this time he can’t hold your hand, not when it's clasped with your other hand and laying on top of your stomach. He hides the fact he’s a tad bitter about that.

“Did you know,” you began, Tsukishima turns to you, intently listening because the stars have never captured him like the way it captured you anyway. What he felt about you, you felt in the infinite universe. Tsukishima’s fine being a close second. “Most people forget dinosaurs have ears because dinosaur ears don’t have bones.”

Tsukishima glares at you incredulously. First of all, how dare you question his lengthy knowledge about dinosaurs. Second, he knows for a fact that’s not true and that you stole it off a kid’s show you watch every fall.

“And that’s a rock fact!” you said, proud and overjoyed. But of what? You didn’t get to fool him successfully.

“No, it’s not, you idiot.” Tsukishima went his way to flick your forehead harshly. When he pulls his hand away you nearly bit off a finger.

Feral bitch, Tsukishima thought affectionately.

“Ok, fine, how about—” you trail off, a finger tapping on your chin, eyes darting from one dead star to another. “Most books on witchcraft tell you witches work naked.” Tsukishima knows which show you got this from off, too. “And that’s because most books on witchcraft are written by men.”

"Now, that I won’t deny.”

The two of you laughed lightly before looking back up again, heart alight. This time, Tsukishima stares at the stars, trying to find reason why you were so smitten with it as he was with you. He tries to find something in between the spaces of dead stars and see if there’s something like that in him, too. So that maybe you can love him as much as you loved the infinitesimal. He doesn’t find anything, unfortunately, he’s distracted by your harmonious humming.

“Tsukki,” his heart skips a beat. You say his name so magically it's hypnotic. He didn’t think he’d fall in love further just by the way you say his name.

“Yeah, y/n?” he cringes at how soft he sounded.

He looks at you, glazes over your direction to see you already looking at him. And his body is on fire. There was something different with you, with the way you look back at him. Something entirely different.

Finally, Tsukishima thought, staring deeper into your glossy eyes, you’re looking at me like I’m something you love, like I put the stars in your sky.

“I love you.”

And the moon in him explodes.

“I love you, too.”

And it’s the end of the day. You’re still and always will be the one that he wants

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #haikyu x reader

[weuschoiceheart]

🔑 Keiys to Your Heart - Dream

~Kinda inspired by the weird dream I had about K, but I’m saving the actual plot details for another fic~

A/N: I finished this a ew days ago, and after finding out that K was aLiVe today, I think this story is really fitting....

Taglist:  @cherryhan1386 @cosmic-soultato @soft-black-teabag @raftel-is-waiting @mysticpenguincreation @lifeisamuffin @bluejayjay

Genre: Angst, mentions of alcohol and drinking, fluff

So for this fic...I made a cover of this song to play along while reading! Kind of like a voice reveal and a special fic roll into one :) Feedback is greatly appreciated, I might make more song fics if you guys like this one >.<

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

He was just a dream, but oh, how you wished he was real. 

“Yah, slow down...you beanpole...K!”

K turned to look back at you, smiling in amusement at your panting and sweaty self. You glared at him, pushing yourself to run faster to catch up with him, but your body protested. Damn, you didn’t know your stamina was this bad, even in a dream. 

Sighing, you stopped and flopped down on the race track, lying on your back. “I give up,” you said, defeated, trying to catch your breath. “Not everyone is a marathon runner like you, K.”

You heard his footsteps jogging back to you, and squatted besides you, looking down at your face. His smile had turned more gentle, and his eyes stared into yours with a loving gaze. “Well, if you keep trying, you’ll be able to run as well as me. It’ll be hard now, but it will be worth it later.”

Laughing slightly to yourself, you sat up and looked at him. “Even if I manage to get better, this is all just a dream. I won’t improve in real life.”

K’s smile faded at your words, and he sat down next to you, staring off into the distance. A gorgeous sunset covered the sky, and as the silence stretched between you two, you wondered if you had said something wrong. It’s the truth, you thought, no matter how much I wish he’s real, I can only meet him in my dreams.

“Y/N, do you only think of me as a dream?”

Lullaby, like a lullaby he was gone now, turning your dreams dull and dark.

You met him about a year ago, after you fell asleep, drunk, at your friend’s house. It was New Year’s Eve, and you and your friends had partied the night away at a bar. He had entered your dream then, taking care of your dream self who was having a massive hangover. You didn’t expect him to stay in your dreams after that, but almost every time you fell asleep, he was there, always ready to do whatever wild activity you planned in dreamland.  Your friends thought you were crazy, talking about a mysterious boy you have met in your dreams, and how you two had started dating 6 months after you met him. In the end, they assumed you were talking about some long-distance boyfriend, and you let them believe that. Frankly, you yourself don’t understand how someone can appear so many times in your dreams, nor can you imagine yourself dating someone you can only meet after falling asleep, but K was everything to you, and you would give the world to meet him just once in real life.

Until it all ended one day, and he left you wondering if all these months were only a figment of your imagination after all. 

“It’s our 3 month anniversary K! Oh, it’s also been 9 months since we met-”

“Y/N....I have something to tell you.”

“Hmm?” you have turned to him then, and he had suddenly dropped your hand from his, turning to face you. Your heart started beating faster seeing the look on his face, wondering what was wrong. 

“We can’t do this anymore...I won’t be here anymore.”

“What do you mean?” you stepped closer to him, your feelings crushed as he stepped back.

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

He disappeared from your life as suddenly as he appeared, without warning and without telling you a why. Time has passed since that dreadful night, and yet, you still couldn’t forget him. 

Lullaby, maybe if I sing this lullaby I can bring you back again. 

Your friends told you to forget him, that he wasn’t worth it. But you know that something was off, and it frustrates you that K couldn’t at least tell you the reason behind his leave. The days after were brutal, and your dreams kept taking you back to the same places you spent with him. Even now, months after he left, you can’t help thinking about him, feeling like a piece of your heart disappeared along with him.

 That’s why tonight, you decided to throw your worries out the window and follow your friends over to a classmates’ house to party.. It was New Year’s Eve again, exactly one year after you met K. A part of you secretly hope that he’ll reappear again, but you pushed that thought out the window. It was time to move on.

Which was easier said than done.

Halfway through the party, you collapsed, drunk, on the couch. The room suddenly felt too small, and looking at the couples dancing around the room, the crushes sneaking glances at each other, you felt lonely. Your friends came up to you as you rose up from the couch, decided to go to the balcony for some fresh air. 

“Make sure to come back for the countdown!” One of your them yelled, and you nodded absently while pushing open the balcony door, wine glass twirling in your hand.

The cool breeze hit you, enough to startle you awake. Taking a deep breath to clear your mind, you rested your forearms on the railings, enjoying the silence. Your thoughts wandered as you tilted your head up to the sky, wondering about the new year to come. A chance to start over, you thought, to let go of everything....of him....

And yet, you don’t want the lullaby to end. 

Someone placed themselves besides you on the balcony. “Hey.” Judging by their voice, they seem to be a guy.

You hummed in response, not wanting to strike a conversation. Your eyes remained staring at the night sky, searching for something, even though you don’t know what you could possibly be looking for when pollution nowadays have hidden all the stars.

“You seem like a loner. Why did you come to the party?”

“My friends dragged me here,” you replied shortly, taking another sip from your wine glass. You could already feel the massive hangover that would overtake you the next day.

“Then why aren’t you with them?” God, why was he so annoying? You usually aren’t this touchy, but the alcohol is making your head pound. So much for drowning your emotions by drinking, it only seem to cause more pain physically.

The guy chuckled. “You still get pissed off easily when you’re drunk,” he muttered under his breath, which only seem to aggravate you even more.

Letting out a huff in exasperation, you turned to leave the balcony, your peaceful time alone ruined by this pesky stranger. However, a hand grabbed your arm, turning you to face the man that was talking to you. You tried to tug your arm free, but his grip was too strong. “Let go of me!”

“I’ll let go after you answer one question: why did you actually come to the party?” 

“Why do you care so much?” you shot back. Why the hell is this random person so interested in you? You squinted at him, trying to make out his face under he hood that was pulled over his head. The dim lights from the house only cast his face deeper into the shadows, and suddenly images of a dark figure forcing you into a truck flashed through your mind. You need to get away now.

“Just answer my question and I’ll let go, promise.” His voice was soft, almost gentle. 

Too weak to protest, you blurted out, “I came here because I was heart-broken, ok? My dream boyfriend decided to disappear one day, without telling me why, and I can’t even contact him since he’s not even real!” The words came out louder than you expected, and saying them only made your heart ache more. You tear your arm away from the stranger’s grasp and walked away before you can break down in tears.

10! 9! 8! Inside, the countdown was starting, and your foggy mind suddenly remembered what your friends had told you. Your hands grabbed the handle of the balcony door and was about to push it open when the stranger spoke up again.

“But what if he is real?”

7! 6! 5! You stopped in your tracks at his words, before letting out a laugh, somewhere between hysteria and sadness. Turning around, you said, “he’s a dream, stranger, someone who only comes after I fall asleep.” 

“You always say that dreams can come true, Y/N.”

4! 3! 2! Your heartbeat quickened as you stared at him. Maybe you were hearing things.....it’s the alcohol affecting your brain. The stranger slowly lowered down his hood, revealing his face. 

1! Fireworks exploded overhead, and the people inside cheered. However, everything seems to be muted for you, because the only thing that mattered right now was the person right in front of you. The familiar figure of the man you haven’t seen in months, his warm smile, the same kind eyes....

He was no longer a dream, but reality.

“K?”

#keiys to your heart #iland k #i-land k #iland #i-land #i land k #i land #iland k imagines #i-land k imagines #k #iland imagines #i-land imagines #iland reactions #i-land reactions #iland kei #i-land kei #kei #alcohol #drinking

[dbzebra]

A Son Family Christmas

A/N: Ok so this was originally a secret santa present from years ago, that I recently rediscovered and made some new additions and cleaned up some things. As usual this takes place in the End of Z era, this time 9 years after Majin Buu. And lots of cute family+ship fluff. might need to go to the dentist afterwards lmao

Words: 3721 (i got carried away lol)

Pairings: little bits of Gochi, HanVi, MarTen and K18. 

Mostly a Pan focused fic though! 

enjoy :)

Christmas Eve; Age 783. 

A blizzard howled and whistled from outside, covering the grassy mountain in a sparkling sheet of white snow. 

Mt. Paozu was pitch-dark, except for the lights that came from a small cottage deep in the woods. 

This was the home of Earth’s greatest hero.

The Son family decided to throw a Christmas party for themselves at their little mountain cottage. Goku invited Krillin and his family as well. The former monk was already pretty much family to Goku anyway, only more so when Goku and Krillin’s kids started dating each other the previous year. 

It was the day everyone was looking forward to, but nobody was more excited than Son Pan. 

Pan was three years old now, and could finally understand the concept of the holiday, as well as the magic and excitement behind waking up the next morning to find presents underneath the Christmas tree.

The toddler stared around at her grandparents’ fully decorated house in wide-eyed wonder. Garland wrapped around the railings and banisters; little models of Santa and reindeer on the countertops, a wreath on their front door, and so much more. Chi-Chi always loved going all out, it was her favorite holiday. 

But what really had young Pan’s attention was the big, beautiful Christmas tree sitting in the foyer, filling the house with the strong but familiar scent of the forest.  It dwarfed little Pan by several feet, but she wasn’t scared.  She loved it.  Lush green branches were adorned with ornaments of all shapes and colors. Rainbow lights twinkled in mesmerizing fashion. High above her head, at the very top of the tree, sat a big, shining golden star -- a decoration she got to add herself.

Every year, the Son family had a tradition to go out on Mt. Paozu and cut down the perfect tree. Goku knew the best spots. He always did -- even as far back as before Gohan was born. But nowadays they had to find two trees. One for Goku and Chi-Chi’s house, and the other for Gohan and Videl’s next door. 

Pan sighed. She just wanted it to be bedtime so it could be tomorrow! She wanted presents! Every minute felt like an hour to her. The little girl tiptoed around, looking for any hidden presents but found no luck. She frowned. How was she even sure Santa would really come?! She had to keep her mind off that tree and the eventual presents somehow or she’d go crazy! 

The three-year-old trotted into the kitchen to see what everyone else was up to. 

The adults were all hard at work preparing the feast. Chi-Chi, Videl, 18, and Gohan busied back and forth to create the feast. Krillin and Goku did what they could, but usually ended up making things worse so they were ordered to stay put at the dining room table. If Goku was out in the wilderness, he could cook meat or fish just fine. But using a stove and all those utensils just wasn’t his thing. 

Goku spotted his granddaughter looking around and called her over. “Pssst… Panny…”

The toddler tilted her head curiously to the side and went over to him, smiling as wide as could be. “Hi, Grandpa!” 

Goku flashed one of his signature grins in response. He then put a finger to his mouth, still smiling, signaling the little one to be quiet. Pan covered her mouth to stop from giggling. Secrets were fun!

Pan blinked as Goku momentarily glanced to his wife to see if she was watching. Luckily, she was too preoccupied. When the coast was clear, he reached into his pockets. 

“I got somethin’ for ya.”

Pan’s eyes sparkled with wonder. “What?”

 “Don’t tell Grandma, okay? It’s a secret…” Goku grinned mischievously as he pulled out a small bag of cookies. He had stolen a few when Chi-Chi wasn’t looking; the wait for the food combined with how good everything smelled was too much for him. Krillin just shook his head with a smile.

She happily took them from her grandpa and stuffed them all in her mouth in one bite. With her full cheeks puffed out, she grinned back at her grandpa and Goku returned it.

The toddler hugged Goku and smiled before trotting over the counter where Chi-Chi was cutting food and occasionally stirring something in a pot. Pan tugged on her dress lightly, peering up at her. “Grandma?”

“Yes sweetie?” Chi-Chi cooed, stopping what she was doing to face her darling granddaughter.

“Can I helps you?”

Gohan ruffled his daughter’s hair as he helped make a dish. “Pan, don’t bother Grandma when she’s cooking; we’re all working really hard on this meal for everyone. Why don’t you see what Marron and Uncle Goten are doing?” He felt bad, and spoke calmly to not upset his young daughter, but he knew more than anyone that Goten was better equipped to preoccupy her right now.

Pan pouted. “Fine.”

“Oh hush, Gohan. Everything’s on schedule,” Chi-ChI replied, making her granddaughter smile again. “And of course you can help, Panny. You can help stir for me!”

Pan floated up and gently stirred the hotpot, happily singing ‘la la la’ like she had heard her grandmother do in the past. “How long does this take? All the food is in this big bucket?” As it turned out, this wasn’t nearly as fun as she thought. 

“Should be all done in about thirty minutes.” Chi-Chi said, gently patting her head.

Pan’s mouth went into a small ‘o’ shape, trying to count how long that was on her fingers. It took her a bit to get to thirty “That takes too long. This is boring!” Pan replied.

Goku and Krillin tried not to laugh as she floated back down to the wooden floor. Their wives shot them a quick look and they both turned away, innocently whistling like they didn’t make a sound. Two peas in a pod, those two. 18 and Chi-Chi just giggled to themselves. 

Pan shrugged her shoulders, scurrying back to the living room to see if she could find her uncle. Goten always had the best video games to play! 

“Uncle Goten!! Where are ya!!?” Pan called out to him. 

No answer. Pan frowned. “Is he hidin’ from me?” She noticed the television was still on, and his phone sat on the couch. But no Uncle Goten. But then, she caught something out of the corner of her eye from the other side of the Christmas tree. 

Pan tiptoed around the tree, when she finally saw them right in the middle of a soft, tender kiss. Above their heads was a small mistletoe, hanging over the archway. In that moment nothing else mattered to them except each other.

Until...                     

CLICK

“Great shot, man.” 

The sound of a camera shuttering followed by the voice of Krillin broke the two teens out of their tender embrace. Goten’s jaw dropped, and then he just facepalmed with both hands. Marron followed his line of sight to see his father standing there, camera in hand. She should’ve expected this...

“Dad!! W-What are you doing?!” Marron practically shrieked. The blonde’s whole face went red from ear to ear, shoulders shaking. Steam was practically coming off her face. It was embarrassing enough her parents were so lovey-dovey on a regular basis, but now she got caught in the middle of her most awaited special moment with her Goten of the holiday season! 

“What does it look like? I’m capturing a special Christmas moment of my daughter!”

CLICK

Krillin  got another picture at their flustered reactions. “But that one was just for fun.”

“Your mother will get a kick out of this!” Goku added, sporting a wide grin similar to his oldest friend. 

“Grandpa! What’s that leaf over Uncle Goten’s head? Why were him and Aunt Marron playing kissy-face?” Pan asked eagerly. It looked like something she’d find on the ground before the snow came. She didn’t get why it was so special.

“It’s called a mistletoe, Pan. When two people get caught under it, they have to do that.”

“Misty Toe? That’s a dumb name!!” Pan broke into giggles again. “Uncle Goten is under a big toe!” 

Eighteen came out to the living room, ignoring the two former Turtle School fighters who were still carrying on about their kids. Marron and Goten didn’t find it so funny! 

“Marron, could you help me in here for a moment?”

“Sure!” Marron said, finally shaking off her flustered state and went to the kitchen. Any way to be away from this scenario. 

Shrugging, Goten turned on the PlayStation to kill some time. The familiar start up sound soothed his ears and he sat down to play. He let Pan play on his phone in the meantime.

“Hey Uncle Goten…?” Pan climbed up on the other side of the couch after getting bored rather quickly. 

“What’s up, squirt?”

“Is Santa Claus really comin’ tonight?”

“Definitely.” He grinned at her childlike innocence; it reminded Goten of himself at that age. “You gotta be asleep, though. He won’t come if you’re awake!”

“How does he know?”

Goten patted his niece’s head. “It’s ‘cause he’s magic, Panny.”

“Magic? Is that like how Grandma always knows when Grandpa does something bad?”

“Somethin’ like that.” Goten chuckled. For a three year old, Pan was much more aware of things than she let on. 

Coming back to the living room, Marron plopped down next to Goten, leaning against his arm. Now that she was over the embarrassment of getting caught by her father and Goku, the blonde wanted to make up for lost time. She watched him play for a bit, and then turned to him with a sly smirk. “Bet I can beat you.”

“Yeah you probably can, cause you’re a big cheater.” Goten replied with a cheeky grin, not keeping his eyes off the screen. 

“Hey! I am not a cheater!” Marron huffed, her bright blue eyes narrowing at him. “It’s not my fault you just get so easily distracted!”

“That’s why it’s cheating! You always play dirty by kissing me right when I’m about to win!!” 

“You call it cheating, I call it strategy.” 

Goten normally would never say no to a kiss from his beautiful girlfriend, but she’d always steal the win while he was still reeling from the kiss! It wasn’t fair! One time, Goten tried the same trick on her, but it didn’t quite work the way he intended. It backfired entirely, actually. As she just kissed him back and they both ended up completely  forgetting about the video game soon after that.  

Marron’s frown turned into a sly grin. If that’s how he wanted to play, fine. She knew exactly what buttons to push. “Fine. I just won’t kiss you ever again. How does that sound?”

“N-No, w-wait! I, uh...” Goten gulped. His mouth became dry, the words getting caught in his throat. He really did this time. Was this his worst fear coming true?!

The blonde giggled at his adorable panic-stricken face, satisfied with herself. “That’s what I thought, dummy. But still, lucky for you, I don’t think I could ever give this up~” Marron kissed his cheek again, leaving her boyfriend reeling as she went to the bathroom to freshen up before dinner. 

Goten put his head in his hands and let out an audible sigh of relief. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand girls…”

From across the couch, Pan started giggling. “Uncle Goten did something bad!” She didn’t really get what the big deal about kissy kissy was to begin with, but seeing her uncle all flustered like that had the toddler tickled pink.                                                  

The next twenty minutes rolled by quicker than ever, and finally, it was time to eat. 

The adults all came out carrying multiple trays and large bowls. The plates and silverware had already been set as the ever-growing Son family all took their seats around the table.

“Wait, Dad’s not here yet.” Chi-Chi said, looking worried. “Do you think he got stuck in the blizzard?”

“He’ll be here. I can sense his energy. Besides, he’s the Great Ox King! No way some storm is gonna stop him.” Goku confirmed, easing his wife’s worries. He winked at her and Chi-Chi smiled. 

And like clockwork, a few minutes later the door swung open. The cold wind blew snow onto the floor of the house, when in came a giant, jolly looking man with a grayish beard. He wore a large red coat and carrying lots of presents. “Merry Christmas, everyone!”

Pan gasped, practically standing up in her chair. A large jolly man with a big belly. Red coat. A beard. And carrying presents. That could only mean one thing… 

“Santa!!!?”

But she thought she had to be asleep! 

Chi-Chi hurried to the door to greet the man.  “Dad! You made it!”

“Hi, pumpkin!” Ox King hugged his daughter.  “Am I late? Sorry I missed the cooking, it’s like a blizzard out there! Can’t see a thing.”

Goku grinned. “You’re just on time. ” He went up to his father-in-law who brought the Saiyan into a big bear hug, followed by doing the same with his two grandchildren. 

Pan tilted her head to the side, more than a little confused. “...That’s not Santa?”

“No, honey. It’s your Great Grandpa Ox! You remember him, right?” Videl told her. Pan thought about it for a second, and the name was familiar! Her expression lightened when she remembered. Pan flew over to him and gave him a big hug.

As the adults got Ox King set up, Pan the conversation no mind as she stared at the pile of presents on the floor in awe. She gently tried to shake each box to try to guess what was inside but didn’t have much luck. 

“Mama, Papa, can I open them now??” She asked, barely containing her joy.

Gohan and Videl exchanged a look and sighed. “You can open Grandma and Grandpa’s present after dinner. The rest will have to wait ‘till tomorrow morning.”

“Okay!” Pan replied. That was good enough for her!

                                                                   And so with everyone in attendance, the feast could finally begin. 

In typical Saiyan fashion, the Son boys filled their plates far above regular capacity. Little Pan tried to mimic her grandpa and uncle and put as much food on her plate as her little hands could grab.

Krillin did his impression of Yajirobe for the others, especially Pan who never heard it before. 18 spoke her new job as a school teacher, and Videl’s new case as Satan City’s top detective, with her right hand man Great Saiyaman.

Meanwhile, In record time, Goku finished his plate and went back for more. Goten wasn’t far behind him. 

“More please!” 

“Me too!”

Father and son respectively said.

“I wants more too!” Pan said, and then remembered the thing to say that her parents taught her. “Um, peas!!”

Chi-Chi smiled. “Of course, angel.” And then turned her gaze to her younger son. “Oh, and Goten, you really should behave yourself in front of your future wife. It’s not polite to eat like that!” 

Gohan cracked a grin. “Yeah, Goten. Listen to Mom.”

“Not helping!”

Videl lightly slapped Gohan’s arm. “Oh stop. You’re one to talk, aren’t you? I distinctly remember a time when you were the one getting flustered whenever someone brought up our relationship.”

“Well that’s-”

“No excuses. You were a nervous wreck on our first date, remember? You wore your pants inside out!” Videl playfully poked his shoulder. She turned to Goten and winked. 

At least somebody was on his side….

Chi-Chi suddenly gasped. “Oh, I forgot the wine! Excuse me for a second.” She got up and went into the kitchen. She returned a moment later with a large bottle. She poured a glass for each of the adults, minus Goku and Gohan. Goku didn’t like the taste, but Gohan wanted to try it.  

“Mom, can I have some?” Gohan asked.

“Absolutely not, mister! You know what happened last time. You dressed up as Saiyaman and put a performance on for everyone!  And you have Pan now, you need to be a better influence!” Chi-Chi scolded him, but the smile never left her face.

Gohan hung his head as Goku patted him on the back while Goten snickered.  “I’m sorry. I got carried away last time because everyone was having so much fun.”

“I for one loved it.” Videl gushed. “It reminded me of when we were still teenagers~”

“R-Really?!” Gohan said, blushing. 

“Oh fine, here.” Chi-Chi caved and handed her older son a glass. After a story like that, she couldn’t say no. 

When Goten went to reach for the bottle afterward, Chi-Chi gave a stern look to her younger son that practically screamed ‘don’t even think about it!’ 

Goten frowned, dejected. Every time he tried that, and every time he failed. And now it was Gohan’s turn to snicker.

Chi-Chi couldn’t help but laugh. Even though they were grown, her sons still had that little brotherly competition. 

“Boys will be boys...” Videl said and Chi-Chi nodded in affirmation. Especially her boys. 

Krillin took the bottle next. He put too much in his glass and then downed it. 

“Okay, lisssten up! I haaaave to make an announcement!!” Krillin declared and then burped.

Eighteen sighed. “Here we go…”

Everyone stopped to listen to him, with various degrees of amusement written all over their faces. Goku most of all. He  put down his food to give his best friend his full attention. Oh, he had been waiting for this. 

“Oh no, not again....” Marron said with a fearful expression, preparing for the worst. She was already embarrassed by him once. But twice? She’d rather bury her head in the snow outside. 

“What’s the matter?”

“When my dad drinks, he gets a little too happy and starts blurting out embarrassing things.” 

Krillin cleared his throat and began to speak. “I...I looove my wife!!”

“Huh?!” Eighteen was caught off guard by his confession as if it were the first time hearing it. 

“She’s sooo pretty… And so n-nice… And so cool!” Krillin hiccuped, putting his empty glass on the table. He hiccuped again, his goofy smile only getting larger. “She acts real tough, but… she’s a.. She’s a biiiiig softie! Like a---”

Eighteen covered her husband’s mouth before he could finish, her face turning the same crimson as her daughters did earlier as everyone laughed. “Krillin, s-stop it you idiot! W-We’re in public!”

“S-Stooop what? The party’s just getting started.”

Eighteen handed him a glass of water to get him to sober up before he blurted out something else. It didn’t take much to get Krillin loosened up, but he sobered up quickly as well. 

That big dork, blurting out something so embarrassing like that. She had a reputation to uphold! How was she supposed to freak Trunks and Goten out if they knew her ‘stone cold’ persona was just a big act?! In her own mind though, Eighteen swooned. But she wasn’t about to let anyone know! In public at least. 

Dinner wrapped up soon after. Not a single morsel was left over. 

“Time for presents!!” Pan said and then plopped down on the carpet in front of the tree, 

At the sight of her daughter, Videl’s couldn’t help but feel giddy. She was the same way at Pan’s age, and Pan’s joy was absolutely infectious. 

“This is a special present from me and Grandma.” Goku handed his granddaughter a large box. He wrapped his other arm around Chi-Chi and she rested her head on his shoulder as he kissed the top of her head. Nothing was better than being altogether as a family, watching her granddaughter open a present on Christmas Eve 

Pan ripped off the wrapping to find a plain white box inside. She curiously stared at it, and even shook it to try to hear what was inside. It didn’t sound like a toy, for one. Hearing nothing, she slowly took off the lid. 

Instantly Pan gasped. 

It was a small, red colored martial arts gi with matching belt and wristbands, and small blue fighting boots. 

Pan’s first gi. 

“This is the bestest present ever!” Pan’s entire face lit up like a star. “Can I go try it on?” 

Pan flew upstairs with her new gi, returning a few minutes later wearing it, still beaming. “Look at me, Papa! I look like Grandpa!”

Pan couldn’t be happier which made Gohan and Videl happy. 

“Oh, Pan, look, there’s something else in here.” Gohan pointed to the red object poking up of extra wrapping paper.

Pan then came face to face with a small red pole inside a sheathe, tied with a fresh rope. “What is this?” She stared at the mysterious item, confused. She liked it; it felt familiar. “Is it a baseball  bat?”

“No, sweetie, this is the Power Pole.” 

“Power Pole?”

“It used to be my grandpa’s. He gave it to me when I was little. And I took it all over the world looking for the Dragon Balls. I almost lost it a few times, but it always found it’s way back to me. One way or another. It was only natural to pass it onto you.”

Pan put the Power Pole around her shoulder. With a puff of her cheeks, Pan flexed her muscles. For the first time, Pan felt like a true fighter. 

“You look just like me!” Goku knelt down and held out his open hands. “Give it a shot.” 

Pan looked to her father, who nodded. Smiling, the toddler punched Goku’s open palm. 

“Yup, she's my granddaughter alright.” Goku grinned. “She’s got some serious power behind that punch.”

“Next present!” Pan exclaimed.

“Nope. Sorry, Pan. The rest have to wait till tomorrow, remember?” Gohan said.

“Aww, okay. But I bet those wont top this!” She waved the Power Pole around. It was best they didn't tell her it could grow just yet. 

Throughout the night, the sound of laughter could be heard coming from a small house deep in the woods. It could still be heard echoing in the valley, late into the night. Inside, the room was aglow with the love that is shared between family and friends. 

Pan’s first Christmas Eve was truly a night to remember for them all. And one she would never forget.

#dragon ball #son family #marten #pan #goku #chichi #goten #gohan #videl #krillin #18 #marron #ox king #fluff

[manawhaat]

Island Fires

Title: Island Fires

Characters: Steve Rogers x Reader, Tony, Bucky, Bruce, Helen Cho, mentions of Clint and Wanda.

Prompt: Huddling for warmth.

Summary: You and Steve are stranded on an island after a failed mission when a life or death situation reveals more about the two of you than you ever would have known.

Warnings: Bearded!Cap, Steven Grant Rogers swearing like a sailor, flying (and crashing) a helicopter, sinking into the ocean, open water, distress and scenes of hypothermia, character death, being stranded on an island, fluff.

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: Written for @star-spangled-bingo with a quick beta by @samsgoddess. If you like it, let me know :) Thanks for reading!

“How are the comms even down?”

“I don’t know, but we probably shouldn’t stick around to see what else they can manage,” Steve pants, eyes squinting against the midday sun. “We already know Clint was compromised and Wanda was injured. If anyone else’s comms are up they’re probably going to pull back. We should get back to the q-”

Before he can finish his sentence you catch a glimpse of something rising up into the air and you watch as the quinjet takes off, leaving you and Steve there in the thick of it with no way out. 

“Fuck.”

Bullets ricochet off the railing overhead and you both spring into action to eliminate the threat. In the thick of the fight you spot your way out at the end of the tarmac. “Cap, look.” 

When the enemy is down, blue eyes lock on the chopper and you follow his lead, both of you making your run for it. 

“Do you even know how to fly one of these things?”

Running ahead Steve shouts back at you, “Does it matter? Now hurry up.”

“Oh, sorry I’m not Captain A-Fucking-Merica,” you sass. 

Steve shoots a look over his shoulder that says ‘really?’ and you roll your eyes but pick up the pace, chest pounding hard and fast when you finally make it into the chopper beside him. 

As the engine starts up, bullets start whizzing by. Steve moves the cyclic and the rounds flying by outside the chopper start pinging off the landing skids as you lift into the air. A few seconds later Steve has full control of the helicopter and you’re soaring up and through the sky. 

“Get on that radio and see if you can make contact with them,” he orders, and you start flipping buttons, holding the headset to your ears, listening for anything.

Ten minutes pass before you say, “I’m not picking anything up.” 

“Ok. That’s fine. We just need to get somewhere. We just-”

A loud screeching starts coming from the cockpit and lights flash all over the control panel. Looking for the source, the chopper slows and slowly starts descending. 

“What is this? Steve, what are you doing?”

“I’m not doing anything! I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“Ok, but we’re clearly going down!”

Blue eyes look down and see a silver lining. “Well, we’re over water, so we might have a chance at surviving the crash.”

As much as you wish you could keep your cool, stand strong by your friend, your Captain, it just isn’t in the cards for you. A slur of swears and prayer erupts from your lips as your heart plummets into your stomach. Any semblance of calm is gone and you’re in a full blown panic when Steve grabs you by the collar and tries to snap you out of it. 

“Y/n! Look at me.” The tone in his voice cuts through and you’re able to focus on those cerulean blue eyes just long enough for him to say, “Look, we’re going down. It’s happening. I need you to breathe. We’re gonna hit, hard. Stay awake. Keep your eyes open. I’m right here and I won’t leave you. I won’t leave you, okay?”

Something about how he’s holding you makes you believe him, and though your body wants to fight it, you tighten the straps of your harness and force shaky breaths into your lungs. 

“Okay, hold on. I’m gonna try something, here.”

Turning to face Steve, you see him pushing buttons, flipping switches, working on a fucking miracle. “Brace, Y/n. Brace!”

Though he told you to keep your eyes open, you simply can’t. Slamming your eyes shut, the chopper lifts awkwardly, spins a little, dips, lifts, and then slams into the water at an angle that knocks the wind out of your lungs. Ears ringing, you’re faintly aware of a voice cutting in under the thrum of your frantic heartbeat. 

Cold. 

Eyes jolting open wider, everything is too bright all at once. 

“Holy shit,” you gasp in shock as frigid water floods the space around you, already threatening to cover your knees. Panic bubbles into your voice and a whole new level of fear fills you to the brim. “Steve?”

“I’m right here. Are you okay?”

“Considering we just crashed a helicopter?”

A faint laugh pulls on his voice. “Try to take deep breaths. It’s sinking fast so we’re gonna wait until we’re completely under, then we can escape, ok? Just keep your harness on until we’re under, alright?” Steve waits for you to nod his way before unbuckling his harness and diving into the water. He disappears and suddenly you’re filled with doubt. 

You try to find him in the water but everything is moving too fast and you can’t see anything other than the rapid rise of it in the small space. Tears suddenly fill your eyes and you shut them tight, trying to take deep breaths like Steve told you to. Every inch the water rises brings hiccups and tremors to your body. Hyperventilation isn’t uncommon in situations or water temperatures like this, but you’re going under and, thankfully, part of your brain snaps you out of it. Though shaky, you do your best to maintain steady, timed breaths. When the water reaches your neck, your eyes fly open again, looking around frantically. He’s still nowhere to be found and you let out a garbled cry of fear before heaving in your last deep breath. 

The cold water covers your mouth and washes over your head and your shaking hands go to unbuckle your harness. Fingers grasp at yours and you can make out Steve’s face right in front of your own. Though you’re still terrified, you find a little relief knowing that he’s there. 

Steve helps you and ushers you through the chopper to the emergency door. The corded muscles in his body tense as he forces the mangled steel open, then pushes you through the opening, pointing upward. 

Swimming through the cold water, you lose sight of him again. A cold numbness pricks at your skin and you heave in shallow, uneven breaths when you surface. A few seconds pass and you turn in the water, but Steve isn’t there. Ten seconds turns to twenty, turns to thirty, and you’re about to dive back down to find him when he pops up a few feet away from you. 

“Jesus, I thought you drowned.” The quiver in your voice has his eyes softening at you, and he shoves something your way. As your hands land on it, you make it out to be one of the pilot’s seats and you thank high heaven that it’s at least half-buoyant. 

“F-fuck, Steve-”

“I know.” You’re both panting, shivering, breath stuck in your lungs. “This water’s gotta be about fifty degrees- maybe less. It could be worse, but we’re still in danger, Y/n.”

Even in your turmoil, the idea of Steve being in danger pulls a sarcastic laugh from you. “We?” 

He sighs and finds your hand on top of the seat. “You have twenty minutes, maybe, before hypothermia sets in. In this water it’ll progress faster than normal, so you’ll only have an hour or so after that before...” 

He trails off and it’s now that you notice the mist in his eyes. It’s not the salt water. It’s fear. And if Steve is scared, you know it’s serious. 

“Ok,” you whisper, tearing your eyes away from the man in front of you to look around. A blur of green catches your eyes and you blink fast, a nervous laugh bubbling out of your chest. “Look.” An island stands alone not too far off in the distance, promising of your survival. “How f-far do you th-th-think that is?”

Steve’s brow furrows at your stuttering and he answers honestly. “It’s gonna take longer than you have to get there, Y/n.”

Stomach sinking, you take a second to swallow back your tears and push off the seat keeping you afloat. “Well then I think I’ll d-die a little closer t-to the island instead of in the m-middle of the ocean,” you snap as clearly as you can and start swimming away. 

Calling after you, Steve quickly catches up and pushes the pilot’s chair in front of you. “Look, I’m sorry, I just know what’s at stake, here…”

“And I d-don’t?” you shiver violently, grabbing onto the chair while your lungs contract in your torso. Eyes softening at you, you shake your head and muster your strength. “Okay, s-so what’s the game plan?”

Taking charge. Steve is used to leading the efforts and he feels good in his element, even if the crisis he’s trying to prevent is you dying. 

“We use this to conserve energy.” He pats the seat. “With the water and the shock of the crash you’re not going to have as much stamina or strength as you normally would. Your best bet is to get as close to land as you can and when your body gives out I can push you the rest of the way on top of the chair, that way you’re not completely immersed.”

Nodding at his plan, you and Steve get to work. Sure enough, less than half an hour later your body begins to lag. Confusion settles in and your eyes can’t focus on any one thing. You’re freezing, but also sleepy in an almost drunk kind of way, and your limbs slow dramatically beside Steve. 

“Looks like it’s that time,” he huffs with worry, stopping in the water to collect you and push you up onto the seat. 

“‘M fine, Shtevey,” you slur with a slack smile on your now pale face. 

You don’t know enough about hypothermia to understand the progression, but Steve does, and he works past his own pain and onset to get you to that island as fast as he possibly can. 

You’re slurring your words and muttering to yourself, skin tinged a light blue and eyes crossed. Steve’s working against the current when you garble something he can’t understand, then try to get back into the water. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Before he can push you back up onto the seat your muscles lock and the undercurrent he’d been fighting drags you under. 

Steve dives after you, finding a piece of fabric in the water and holding on for dear life. When he surfaces and pulls you up, you sputter and cough violently with the water you inhaled. Knowing you don’t have much time left, he pushes you up onto the seat and uses his strength to rip the harness straps, using part of it to strap you to the buoyant side of the seat and the other as a tow line so he can swim without holding onto the seat. 

Fading in and out of a dazed and confused state, you faintly register the rise and fall of waves under you, and then you’re sliding and going under again. Something in your brain tells you to move, but you can’t, and the crest of a wave slams into you, pushing you under the surface. Whitewash pulls your hair and limbs every which way and your face hits something hard, then two hands are ripping you out of the water. 

“We’re here! We’re here! Hold on, Y/n!” 

The world spins and flips and your legs drag in the sand where he’s hauling you up the shore out of the shallows. 

“Hey, hey, stay awake!”

Your eyes open at his words and you make out the blur of palm trees when heavy hands force you down to your knees in the sand and he makes sure your glazed over eyes are at least looking in his direction before he speaks.

“Stay here, Y/n. Don’t get back in the water. Stay awake. Just stay here, I’ll be right back.”

You give a mindless nod and Steve rushes off into the line of palm trees that turns into jungle, desperately searching for enough to make a shelter or fire to keep you warm. 

The cold subsides within you and all you are is numb and half blind. The ocean waves crashing against the sand behind you roar in your ears and suddenly a wave of stifling heat spreads through you. Shaky fingers reach for the zippers and clasps keeping your suit on, confusion muddling your brain. Removing the top half, your brain is flooded with dopamine and a drunk smile spreads across your face as you fall flat and roll onto your back to kick off your shoes and push off your pants. The world spins fast in front of your eyes, filling you with the feeling of flying, or falling, and the warmth flooding you urges you to remove your clothes. Bra and panties discarded in the sand, you force yourself to your feet, body lurching and swaying as you drag yourself up the beach towards the tall trees, looking for the perfect spot to dig. Numb legs deceive you and you land on your shoulder in the soft sand, eyes blinking lazily against the fall before the sounds of the sea lull you to sleep. 

Vines and branches whip at his face and he gathers whatever he can as quickly as possible, worried about leaving you there on the shore alone. When he has enough for a fire he runs back, heart dropping into the pit of his stomach when he clears through the trees again. 

“Oh, shit! Shit, shit shit!” 

The palm fronds fall to the ground and Steve is at your side in an instant, pushing you onto your back and lightly slapping your face. You’re unresponsive and a growl comes from his throat as he tries to wake you to no avail. As helpful as a fire would be, if he doesn’t warm you right now, you’ll die. 

“Fuck!”

Steve strips out of his suit before pulling your naked body into his arms. He rushes you into the trees and finds a spot where the sea wind can’t reach you, laying down a few palm fronds to insulate the ground before laying you down. He slides up next to you, fingers on your neck to check your pulse, and his own heart stops when your pulse is gone.

“No!”

Steve’s cry is left to echo back into his own ears on the lonely island. He refuses to lose you. He won’t let this sandy shore become your grave, so he starts compressions. Tears stream from his eyes and desperation takes up the space in his lungs with every push down on your sternum. Your skin is tinged blue and your eyes are glazed, lifeless, pupils dilated on nothing. None of your beauty is there in the slack pull of gravity. Your face doesn’t even look like your own and it haunts him. 

He stops twice to check your pulse and he’s at the end of his rope. When he checks it the third time, a fresh wave of tears fall down his cheeks. It’s faint, but your pulse beats weakly against his fingertips. 

“Oh, thank God. Come on, Y/n. That’s it, sweetheart.” That gentle beat is all he needs to hang onto.

Arranging you both on the palm fronds, Steve pulls you into his chest, holding you tightly to him. Every inch of him is wrapped around you and he finds another couple of fronds to pull over you both. Lips in your hairline, he whispers your name, whispers encouragement and praise. 

“Come on,” he pleads. “Come on. I love you, Y/n. I love you…”

When the words fall from his lips his heart leaps into his throat and suddenly he’s questioning himself. He’d never even thought about loving anyone after Peggy and the two of you have never been anything more than just friends. But as he says it again, swirls your name off his tongue, he knows deep down that he means it. 

Steve holds you for the longest five hours of his life before exhaustion finally takes hold of him and drags him into a dizzy and fearful slumber.

----------

When you slip back into consciousness, your senses take time coming back to you. The first thing you feel is skin on yours. You’re naked and warm and Steve is clinging to you for dear life. The smell of sea salt and sweat fill your nose and his fingerprints are tattooed into your skin with how tight he’s holding you. 

Dizzy and confused, you blink slowly, as if your body is on a digital lag. Images blur together in your brain and your eyes try to clear them to focus on the here and now, but the frozen reality is mashed up with the memories, not letting you focus on much of either then, or now. With a dull heartbeat, pain pumps through you. That small blip of pain grows and fills you in seconds and suddenly the dizziness multiplies tenfold. Eyes shooting open, your stomach flips and you tear yourself from Steve’s arms, rolling away from him to wretch into the sand. 

Steve is alert in an instant, moving your hair out of your face and rubbing a warm hand over your back as you throw up. “Shhh, take it easy,” he coos, watching you heave for air. 

Shivering and sobbing, he holds you until you’re done. The burn of bile and acid in your throat is strong enough to rob you of your words, and you shoot him a thankful grimace when he sees the question in your eyes. 

“I’ll fill you in on everything in a bit, okay. How do you feel? Other than,” he gestures to the wet sand beside you, “that.”

A pounding in your head has you wincing your eyes shut and curling in on yourself. “Cold,” you rasp. “Pain.”

Broad hands pull you into his side, rubbing up and down along your back and shoulders. “Okay, let’s warm you up a little more, then I can start a fire and find you some water and food. 

You nod weakly and curl into his side, tears staining your cheeks as his warmth seeps into your skin. 

Though you’re still weak and recovering, Steve waits until he’s sure you’ll be stable before carrying you down the beach and setting you in the sun. He wanders, finding your clothes and shaking it out, slipping his boots and pants back on before helping you to do the same, offering his top to you for extra warmth.

You aren’t strong enough to move but while Steve works on a fire, you spot what looks like a coconut on the ground a few meters away. When the fronds and branches are lit, Steve checks it out and returns with a smile on his face, cracking it open for you and helping you to take sips of the fresh, sweet water inside. 

“If there’s one, there’s gotta be more, right?”

He goes to stand but you catch his wrist and stop him. “I still want to talk about what happened,” you remind him, and he nods. 

“We will. Let me take care of you first.” 

Letting him go, you watch as he walks down the beach then disappears into the trees. He’s gone for just a few minutes and comes back with more wood and fronds, three more coconuts, and a handful of berries, offering them to you and cracking open a coconut for himself when he plops into the sand beside you. 

The sun is sinking down on the water, making it look so gorgeous you almost forget that that water nearly killed you just hours ago. Though your surroundings are that of paradise, there’s a tension rolling off of steve that fills your gut with a sense of dread and worry. 

“I- I need you to tell me what happened. I need to know everything.”

He heaves in a deep breath and turns to you, a foreign gleam of sadness in his eyes. “What do you remember?”

A flurry of incoherent thoughts flies through your brain and you try your best to recount everything you can. “Honestly, not much. I remember the crash, holding onto the chair and then you pushing me up onto it. From there it’s really a blur. I remember just getting colder and colder. Confused as all hell. Scared. Then I just-” you sigh, rubbing your hands over your face. 

Warmth lands on your back as Steve smooths a gentle hand over your shoulders. “It’s okay. You’re okay, now, Y/n.”

You shoot him a grateful smile, eyes watering as you take his hand in both of yours. “I am. Thanks to you.” Pressing a kiss to his knuckles, your heart beats hard in your chest and even as he tries to hide it, you can see the pink hue spread over his cheeks. 

“Your eyes,” you finally say, breaking the warm silence. “I remember your eyes.” The haunted sea blue fills your brain, but when you look back at him, the worry he once held is long gone. “I- I was so scared, and I could see that you were, too. And then we were on the beach and I just- everything in my body told me to take my clothes off. That if I did then everything would be okay.” You huff out a sigh. “I don’t even know what I was thinking.”

“You were trying to save yourself, Y/n. It was paradoxical undressing,” he states. “At a certain point victims of severe hypothermia will undress. As your organs shut down your blood vessels stop constricting and the warm blood rushes from your core. You’re already confused and at that point it feels like a hot flash. You feel like you’re burning up so you undresses to cool off. It’s not long after that that people die.”

“I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse,” you groan. 

“I’m sorry. Do you remember anything after that?”

Shaking your head, you answer, “Nothing. After that everything was just… black.”

His other hand comes to cradle yours, his long fingers skimming over your pulse point, and he sighs heavily. “Sweetheart, you-”

“I know,” you cut him off. That eerie feeling of falling fills the pit of your stomach and you don’t need to hear him say it to know what happened to you. “I know.” A dry laugh escapes you. “Turns out heaven and hell aren’t real. It’s just nothing.”

The numbness in your voice makes him tense at your side and you’re quiet for a long time. Steve’s presence is strong and he wonders if he should tell you. Tell you the secret he didn’t even know he was keeping until he’d lost you. He wonders if you might have a secret of your own...

Before he can finish his internal battle, you speak up. “It was nothing for a while, then your voice was there. I couldn’t tell what you were saying but I knew I had to use it as an anchor, otherwise I’d slip under again. I had no concept of time or my body or anything, and then I woke up. Naked,” you laugh breathily, and Steve smiles earnestly beside you. 

“I knew what had happened and what you had to do, and then I was throwing up.” You shift and turn to look at him fully, take in the lines of worry that seem to have sprouted overnight in the outer corners of his eyes and on his forehead. “Thank you, Steve. Thank you for helping me. For bringing me back, and for keeping me alive.”

When you lean forward and press your lips to his, Steve tenses. You wonder if this is too far and you start to pull back when his hands come up to cradle your face and keep your mouth locked to his. 

Stomach doing happy flips, you take a chance and deepen the kiss and are rewarded with a tiny moan falling into your mouth. His beard brushes against your palms and tickles your lips, but you sink into it. It doesn’t feel like desperation or some swell of emotion leading you into his arms. It just feels right.  

Before you can build any more, he pulls back and rests his forehead against yours. “You should probably rest,” he says, and you let out a small sigh, knowing that he’s right. He kisses you again, soft and fleeting, then stands. 

The fire casts shadows over the sand as Steve stands and treks away from you, silhouette illuminated in the distance while he finds a few more coconuts, nuts and berries, and even a couple of bananas for you to eat. 

The two of you sit close the rest of the evening, bodies pressed against one another as the warmth from the fire pushes its fingers through your hair. The treeline offers enough shelter from the elements and Steve manages a small wind block for the two of you to sleep behind for the night. He adds to the burning pile of wood and leaves to make sure it stays lit, then his body curls around yours and you nestle into his chest, enjoying the warmth you find there and the way he hums against your temple as you fall asleep. 

Steve stays up, holding you in his arms into the wee hours of the night. The gentle sway of the palms overhead give a beautiful view of the glittering stars, and he only lets go of the dream when you shift and roll onto your other side. 

He stands, stretching his limbs and rekindling the fire, making sure it’s large enough to last until morning before sidling up behind you and finally falling asleep with his arm wrapped around your waist. 

The sun is just making its presence known when you stir awake, Steve’s body warm where it’s pressed against your back. Gently, you extract yourself from his hold and admire him for a moment before deciding to let him sleep. You’re weak, but you manage to walk along the shore, searching for anything to help the situation you’re both in. 

A funny movement catches your eye and you’re filled with excitement at the opportunity. Finding a rock large enough to do the job you quickly snatch up the two crabs and smash them, happy to have some food to take back to Steve. Content with the find, you’re about to turn around when something shiny catches your eye in the distance. Pushing yourself that far takes a bit out of you, but when you stand over the gleaming object, tears spring from your eyes. 

Steve is jolted from his sleep at the sound of you calling out for him and he’s on his feet the second he sees you running up the shore toward him. “Y/n wha-”

You cut him off, yelling, “I found it!” Heart threatening to burst from your chest, you fall into his arms and you both sink to your knees. “Look! Look what I found!” 

Thrusting the radio component from the chopper into his hands, a delirious giggle bubbles in your throat and before you can say anything else Steve’s arms are wrapped around you and his mouth is crashing into yours, a weightlessness filling your head as you kiss him and laugh into his mouth. 

“And I found us food,” you add, dangling the crabs in front of him. 

Steve’s smile is brighter than the sun and for the first time since the chopper crashed, you feel true warmth inside you. He sets off into the surrounding area to find more wood for the fire and he crafts tools from what he can, cooking the crab for you both as you fiddle with the wiring and try to make the radio come to life. He keeps the fire going, builds it large enough to signal planes and boats and offers moral support as you work on the small device. 

After a few hours you let out a frustrated groan and he wraps an arm around your shoulder. “Go ahead, take a break. I mean, I’d offer to help…” 

You laugh, then, and lean into his side. “But it seems to run on some form of electricity?”

He chuckles by your side and you take his advice, fading into his warmth and resting a bit before trying again. 

It’s mid-afternoon three days after the initial crash when the radio component in your hand flashes blinking lights and fills your ears with static. Heart in your throat, you cling to Steve’s side and radio for help. Static blips on each station until you finally manage to intercept a cargo ship and ask for help. 

The thick Boston accent on the other end of the radio puts a smile on your face and Steve rolls his eyes at himself when he asks the captain, “Have you ever heard of The Avengers?” 

It’s not long until word travels the wire and Tony’s voice is filtering through the radio in Steve’s hands. “Well, well, well. Serves you right for stopping for a fun island getaway without even inviting the rest of us. I mean, really, Y/n, if you wanted to get the Capsicle alone all you had to do was ask and I would have set it up for you.” 

You didn’t even need to see Tony to know the cocky grin adorning his smug face, and if you could have slapped it off through the radio, you would have. 

“Quit fuckin’ around, Tony. How long before you can get someone here? Y/n suffered severe hypothermia.” He risks a glance your way and his eyes shine with the truth only the two of you know. 

“The jet is already on its way with Helen and Bruce. They should be there in a few hours. Sit tight. We’ll get you guys back home, soon.” 

The sincerity carries through Tony’s voice and you sigh happily, leaning into Steve’s side for a moment of utter relief and joy. 

 ----------

 Even with his genetically modified body he’d still suffered moderate hypothermia, himself, but in Helen and Bruce’s care back at the compound Steve is fully recovered in less than a day. You, on the other hand, are under careful supervision, even if you feel mostly up to speed. Apparently dying isn’t great for your overall health. 

Though you aren’t fond of the constant monitoring, you do find comfort in Steve, who refuses to leave your side. 

“You can go, ya know,” you smirk, knowing that he won’t. “I’m fine, now. See?” you wiggle all of your fingers at him and he chuckles.

“What makes you think I’d want to leave you ever again?” he asks, and the tone in the room shifts. His stoic face breaks into a brilliant smile when your heart monitor starts beeping faster. Steve stands and presses a kiss to your warm cheek, shooting a wink your way before making his exit. 

An hour later you’re hanging onto Bucky’s arm, shaking your head up at him as he escorts you through the halls towards Steve’s room. 

“Don’t blame me for this,” he laughs. “It was his idea and I’m only helping because Helen said it was okay.” 

Crossing over the threshold into Steve’s room, you try your best to suppress a smirk. He catches you, though, and you laugh out loud at the set up of monitors and machinery that’s taken over his room. 

“I don’t care if you ‘feel fine’,” he air quotes. “They said you needed to be monitored and I volunteered.” 

 ----------

 Bucky’s feet are kicked up on the edge of Steve’s bed and his fingers pick at a loose thread on his jeans when he breaks the comfortable silence that had been filling the room since Steve left to find food for you. 

“So, uhm, I just want you to know that I’m really happy for you.” Warmth rushes to your cheeks and a charming smile pulls at his mouth. “I mean- I’m happy you’re alive and all… but I’m also happy for you and Steve.”

Clearing your throat, you open your mouth, then stop short. Everything in your body wants to tell him that he’s wrong. He’s made some sort of mistake and all of this is just Steve being nice to his friend. That this is just his nature. But you know that’s a lie and a shy smile blooms on your face when you think back to kissing him on that damned island. 

After staring off and getting lost in your own thoughts for a minute or two you finally turn back to him. “I am, too.” 

There’s no use denying it, and Bucky chuckles at the truth in your eyes. 

A knock on the door breaks the light-hearted moment and Steve stands there with a tray of food and a look in his eyes that tells Bucky it’s time for him to go. 

Bucky’s metal hand pats your foot and Steve shoots his friend a thankful smile as he leaves. A few minutes later Bruce pops in to check on you both before you and Steve are finally left alone. 

When you’ve both finished eating, Steve urges you closer to him and rubs a calming hand over your arm. “Go ahead and get some rest. I’m right here.” 

It isn’t long before you take him up on the offer, and it only takes another few minutes before your steady breathing has him dozing off with you held tight to his chest.

Rain bouncing off the window filters into your ears and you stir awake at the sound of thunder rumbling through the night. Your fuzzy brain wonders if Thor has anything to do with it but before you can think too hard on it Steve shifts beside you. 

“Everything okay?” His voice is rasped in a way that fills your gut with warmth and you nod, the dim light in the room glittering in your eyes. 

“Yeah, I’m okay. Thank you, again, Steve. For everything on the island. And for this.” You gesture to his room and he hums. 

“I couldn’t lose you, Y/n,” he admits in a whisper that lands against your temple. “I know we haven’t been romantic in the past, but when I lost you I realized that...” Steve’s voice trails off and his misty eyes meet yours. 

Swallowing past a lump in your throat, you say, “Me, too.”

Relief is visible on his face and he leans in to press his mouth to yours, his kiss fanning the flames of the island fires that brought you together. 

Marvel tags: @sebbytrash @abaddonwithyall  @becs-bunker @curlyblondexoxo @ellen-reincarnated1967 @plaidstiel-wormstache @samsexualdeancurious @saxxxology @thing-you-do-with-that-thing​

#steve rogers x reader #marvel fanfic #steve rogers #star spangled bingo #star-spangled-bingo

[artificialqueens]

"New Man"

A/N: Hi everyone – long time listener (reader), first time caller (writer). Was inspired to write something after listening to “New Man’ by Ed Sheeran (link here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EwzD8U4u76k) on repeat, and because at my core I am shameless Biadore trash. This is angsty, but ideally it leads to something fluffy. As “real world” of a universe as my twisted brain can make up, set in the present. All is from Danny’s POV, because I feel closer to his headspace. If you like, I will do a Part 2 that finishes the story and involves some attempt at fluff and/or smut (I guess?). Anyway ok thanks this may be awful.

Also, lyrics are in italics, but I’m sure you figured that out.

Two things were concerning Danny in this moment. Confusing, distracting, maybe even disturbing – to bundle it up, it was fucking with him.  

 The first – Roy was not a cheater. He was many many things – a talented tailor and designer, a cutting insult comedian, a damn good dog parent, a friend you could really count on…but he was not a cheater. So when Danny saw Roy – Roy, who had a boyfriend of 2 months – cozying up with a race chaser in the back corner of the bar, Danny was confused.

 And when this stranger dude went for it and kissed Roy, and after just a moment’s hesitation Roy jammed his tongue down the stranger’s throat with some real enthusiasm…that’s when the second thing happened.

 The second – so this second one is where it got weird. As a friend Danny was entitled to be confused, but the moment the two men’s lips touched he instantly felt like he was going to throw up. His lungs and his stomach dropped into his ass, at the same time as all his other muscles seemed to tense up. Danny’s heart was thumping and he almost fell of his seat as he sprinted (really, tripped) to the bathroom of the bar.

 Roy had a boyfriend, and it wasn’t Danny. Roy was kissing someone else, and it wasn’t Danny – but it wasn’t his boyfriend either. So why the fuck was he reacting like this?

—

After a few deep breaths – and mentally thanking the city of Seattle for teaching him all kinds of new hippie ways to clear his mind – Danny looked into the mirror. He desperately wanted to throw water on his face, but god dammit he had put good effort into a ‘boy beat’ tonight and he wasn’t going to let tap water and Roy – ugh, Roy – fuck up his cut crease. Continuing to take deep breaths – in for 4, out for 4 – he started to take stock of what was happening around him. People liked to make jokes about Danny’s intelligence, but really he was both very smart and incredibly perceptive. He ran the tape back…

 Roy was in Seattle for a long weekend, on a tour hiatus. This was the first time Danny had seen him in person since moving to up north, a move that Danny knew annoyed Roy. “Really, Queen? I moved my tired ass across the country, where I will no doubt be killed by this hell-hole drought or in a 5-hour traffic jam on Santa Monica, and as soon as I’m settled in you flit off in your Birkenstocks to be the next Kurt Cobain? You know granola makes you fat, right? You and you’re fucking Starbucks…” But a few months later and Roy couldn’t wait to make the trip…

 Roy was alone. He had been so very vocal about his new relationship, particularly with Danny and Shane, and wasted no opportunity to talk about his new man at every chance. This guy was (allegedly) fabulous, beautiful, rich…Danny honest-to-God couldn’t remember his name, but he knew he was an Equinox trainer with a lot of family money that Roy met hiking in Runyon. Which reminded him of that other thing…

 Roy was different. Bad different. Shallower, cuntier, careless. At first Danny chalked it up to his new ultra-mellow Seattle attitude, but seeing Roy do something so very un-Roy convinced him that this wasn’t just his perception. Danny had noticed little things changing since this new guy – Roy developed an obsession with jicama/turmeric/unpronounceable health foods, but drank much more; spent mad money on flashy things almost daily; indulged in social media trash and flame wars; and followed his stinging insults with less and less kindness…but Danny figured Roy was just tired or something, though it was creating real distance between them. Now, publicly cheating on his boyfriend with a stranger in a crowded bar, Danny saw clearly that something was very and truly “up” with B.

 And of course, the last thing – Roy was silent. Not actually silent – bitch never shut up – but he was silent on the subject of him and Danny. A relationship never consummated, two best friends who were clearly attracted but respected each other and the difficulties of their lives too much to but their friendship at risk. They had a system of denial, and it worked…at least it did until 2 weeks ago. The night Roy announced his plans to visit Seattle – to Danny and Jinx, in a group text – he later drunk texted Danny. Ok, drunk sexted. And it happened again, every night until this one, when he arrived in Seattle. Roy’s 3am texts were rapid fire, riddled with boozy typos and anything but poetic advances, but fuck if they didn’t make Danny’s heart race and pants tighten. Danny never responded, refusing to make this a “real” issue to deal with, and Roy seemed equally avoidant. Danny assumed it was just drunken ramblings (for a New Orleans native, Roy was a light-weight) and didn’t want to embarrass his friend (or, let’s be real, himself) by bringing it up.

 But now Roy was here, in person, and Danny was worried. The world famous Bianca Del Rio was going off the rails, and apparently only Adore Delano was going to steer him back. He always wanted to be Superman…and maybe if he could just get Roy out of here and acting normal, Danny wouldn’t have to address the emotion he could finally identify: jealousy.

—

Danny was not in the best head space to confront Roy, this he knew. In addition to the green monster still banging at his chest, he was 4 shots into a night that started off with a bowl shared between him, Jinx and – surprisingly – Roy. He knew his perception was sharp as ever, but his decision making…well Captain, those systems were compromised. 

So when he finally walked out of the bathroom and saw that race chaser –Chase, because no one is working hard to name that guy – with one hand in Roy’s hair and another on his “upper thigh,” Danny decided to do something dramatic. Instead of going back to the table with Jinx and his other friends, he made a beeline for the bar. 

“Todd! Todd! Can I sing tonight?“ 

A big bear of a man made his way past bartenders and bar backs to speak to Danny, who was now flittering his eyelashes in faux seduction.

“Delano, this isn��t drag night. We don’t have the –“

“No, no – I don’t mean do the Adore act. I mean, I’m feeling moved by the spirits to sing a song and I want to sing here for the first time as Danny and I know you have a guitar and an amp and my friends are here from LA and I really need to get this of my chest and performing as Danny and not Adore is really important to me and if you were really mine and Johnny’s friend…” He was officially rambling at this point, leaning into the personality everyone imposed on him to get what he wanted. He smiled doe-eyed as he talked Todd into submission. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake, if you sing will you stop talking to me?  

“Absolutely.” Cue the Disney smile.

Todd sighed and waved over 2 of his staff, asking them to set up the guitar, mic and lighting Danny would need to perform.

“Thank you Todd. One of these days you’re going to have to let me…”

“Delano, appreciate the sentiment but this ride is for biological women only. Just get up there and don’t fuck it up.”

“Ok, RuPaul.” Danny grabbed a shot of couple Fireball shots off the bar, ripping them as he thought about the song. This fucking song…

Danny was about to sing a real Top 40, iHeartRadio and Casey Kasem wet dream of a song – “New Man,” by Ed Sheeran. This was all Spotify Discovery’s fault; the track had somehow ended up in his curated weekly recommendations, and before he could realize that he was listening to Taylor Swift’s man BFF he was in love with the words and the melody. And fuck if it didn’t apply to his life in this moment – maybe the universe was sending him a sign here. A catchy song, from the perspective of a man who sees his on-and-off lover cheating on their new man and tries to help sort out their life – Geez, sound familiar? That, plus a song with a simple enough guitar melody that Danny could already play from memory…the stars aligned, and as a Libra Danny was never one to ignore the signs from the stars.

—

Todd quieted the crowd down, announcing that there would be a performance from none other than new hometown boy Danny Noriega. The bar patrons cheered – Danny had made short work of turning this place into his Cheers, and everyone sure knew his name – with the exception of 3: Jinx, who clapped cautiously while mouthing “What are you doing bitch?” at Danny, and the Roy-Chase pretzel. Roy stopped moving (kissing), broke away and stared at Danny for a full 30 seconds before hopping onto his feet to wolf-whistle and cheer with the rest. “Chase” started asking for Adore and pulling out his cellphone to record.

Danny hopped up on the stage, strapped on the guitar, and dropped his head to speak into the mic. God, it felt good to perform as Danny sometimes.

“Hey you weirdos, settle down. Todd, thanks for indulging my last minute request to perform a little diddy for these drunk and stoned hippies.” The good-natured crowd laughed, until Roy – in full Bianca mode – interrupted:

“Christ Delano, leave the insult comedy to the pros,” Roy yelled up at the stage.

Danny knew that Roy wanted to get a rise out of him, this was their usual tour banter. Bianca picks at Adore’s imperfections and they trade insults for a while, but Adore is just so damn charismatic that Bianca ends up (eventually) being sweet. But that wasn’t the point of tonight – this wasn’t Snatch Game for a crowd of RPDR fans, this was drama to shock Roy into behaving himself. Danny wasn’t sure why he thought that was such a good idea – the mix of vodka and Fireball probably had something to do with it – but he wasn’t going to get sidetracked.

“I made Todd haul out the equipment so I could play, but mainly I just want to get this one song out. It’s a cover – nothing new or my own – but it’s been stuck with me over the last few weeks and I feel like some people here tonight really need to hear it. So here we go – “New Man,” by some redhead that isn’t Adele or Ginger Minj.” With that, Danny began to sing and play:

I heard he spent five hundred pounds on jeans Goes to the gym at least six times a week Wears boat shoes with no socks on his feet And I heard he’s on a new diet and watches what he eats

Too early in the song for anyone to know what is about – anyone except Jinx, who Danny could see glaring at him near the front row. He probably should’ve run this plan by his sensible if-always-sleepy friend, but again…this was not a night or an act to be rationalized.

But still, I’m just keeping it real, still looking at your Instagram and I’ll be creeping a little I’ll be trying not to double tap, from way back, cause I know that’s where the trouble’s at Let me remind you of the days when you used to hold my hand And when we sipped champagne out of cider cans I guess if you were Lois Lane, I wasn’t superman, just a young boy trying to be loved

Danny started to freak out a little bit. Fuck – the chorus was coming, and it was going to get really obvious to anyone paying attention at all that this song was directed at Roy. But he wasn’t ever one to do things subtly so…

I don’t wanna know about your new man, cause if it was meant to be You wouldn’t be calling me up trying to fuck Cause I’m positive that he don’t wanna know about me

I don’t wanna know about your new man, we’ll get there eventually I know you’re missing all this kind of love But I’m positive that he don’t wanna know about me

Well, it was out there and nothing was happening. The crowd seemed to dig the song, but he hadn’t seen Roy’s adorably dimpled face go wide or slack jawed or change in any way that showed he understood what was happening here. No choice but to continue. 

You were the type of girl that sat beside the water reading Eating a packet of crisps but you will never find you cheating Now you’re eating kale, hitting the gym, keeping up with Kylie & Kim In the back of the club kissing a boy that ain’t him

How did that 90’s song go – whatever, whoop there it was. Drunk Roy’s eyebrows raised, and his head snapped to look at “Chase” bopping along next to him and recording the song for Snapchat. A look that read simply as Oh fuck washed over his face, and Danny knew it was time to bring it home.  

Ok you need to be alone, and if you wanna talk about it you can call my phone I just thought that I would tell you cause you oughta know You’re still an old man trying to be loved

That changed lyric and his piercing stare at Roy really drove the point home, if Jinx’s undeniably audible “Holy shit” was any indication. Roy continued to watch, looking some mix of embarrassed, guilty, and nervous as he avoided direct eye contact with anyone – especially Danny. Danny was ready to close the song with a bang.

Baby, I’m not trying to ruin your week But you act so differently When you’re with him I know you’re lonely Please, remember you’re still free, to make the choice and leave And don’t call me up you need to show me

With one more round of the chorus, the song was done. The crowd cheered, again with the notable exceptions of Jinx, Johnny and Roy. Jinx and Johnny clapped politely, their eyes darting back and forth between Roy seated and Danny on stage looking for some explanation. Roy stayed in his seat, his expression unreadable except for the clear annoyance that “Chase” was up and clapping. Danny felt this could be a good sign of mission accomplished. 

Never one to renege on his show promises, Danny went ahead and did a 30-minute set for the bar. He mixed covers and originals, racked up some good tips, and got to feel alive in the way that only performing makes him feel. Combining that with the high of potentially shocking Roy back into his old self, and Danny had a great day. It was made better when he realized Roy had abandoned the race chaser and gone to sit back with his and Danny’s crew; though his friend was being uncharacteristically quiet around the crew, at least he wasn’t actively cheating anymore.

As he played through the set, Danny could feel the confusion subsiding. Roy wasn’t a cheater, he was drunk and made a mistake. All he did was kiss that kid, not a big deal in the grand scheme of things. Everything was ok again.

Except it wasn’t. Danny still felt that nasty green monster living in his chest, beating on his ribs and his heart every time he thought of Roy while he sang. This was a feeling Danny made it a point to repress and avoid, but for some reason when he thought of Roy kissing another man he felt possessive and mean and scared and still somehow love… must be the vodka and Fireball. Danny reminded himself not to mix booze again, especially on a night he sings.

— 

After a raucous round of applause and a demand for an encore – which Danny obliged – he jumped of stage and headed out for a smoke. Danny reached into his pocket and grabbed his lighter and cigarettes, but the moment his hand entered his pockets he was pressed up against the brick wall of the building…by none other than his best friend Roy. 

“What the fuck was that, Danny?” Roy was clearly angry, but there was something else in his voice that made it sound husky and almost luxurious. After a painful moments of silence, Danny finally decided to respond.

“Music is a powerful way to– “ Danny’s speech was abruptly cut off as Roy’s lips crashed onto his own. All Danny could do was smile.

— 

[End of Part 1]

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