#but then he's like...you know what...i don't actually have anything against them...i just miss carol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

matchingbatbites · 2 months

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i thee wed

Teen | 2.9k | Female Steve Harrington

A very late submission for @steddie-week Day 5: Reunion/Getting back together, as well as @stevieweek Day 4: Special Outfit.

This fic is too short to be as late as it is, but alas. It was originally supposed to be just runaway bride Stevie showing up to Eddie's home in a huge wedding gown, but somehow Carol wheedled her way into the story, so.

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Stevie’s mom is doing up the last of the buttons on her dress, each one tiny and pearlescent and perfect against the white lace fabric, when Robin walks up, clearly worried about something.

“Carol's here, and she's asking to talk to you,” she says quietly before Stevie can even ask what's wrong, and oh. She's been expecting this for a while - ever since Tommy proposed, really - but she didn't think Carol would wait until the day of the wedding to actually seek her out. “What do you want me to tell her?”

Stevie hums and thinks for a moment as they smooth out the skirt, as she steps into her heels which are as white and pristine as the rest of her outfit. “I'll talk to her. She deserves that much.”

Robin continues to frown but nods. “She’s in the back hall. I'll keep an eye on everyone here, but scream if you need anything.”

“I will. Thanks, Birdie.”

It's not hard to find Carol, leaning against one of the back walls in an outfit that's too casual to be appropriate for a wedding guest. Stevie still smiles as she approaches, and receives a small one in return.

“Hi, Carol.”

“Hi, Steph. You look beautiful.”

Stevie huffs and fluffs the a-line skirt again. “Thanks. I'm kind of dying a little, if I'm being honest. I didn't realize how hot this thing would be.”

That earns her a chuckle, and Stevie feels a bit lighter- feels like this might be okay as she asks “So what can I do for you?”

Carol's expression drops, her entire being taking on an air of sadness that almost leaves Stevie breathless. She and Carol haven't really spoken in years, but it's still upsetting to see her so down.

“I'm here because- We were friends once, and I miss that. I miss you.”

Stevie can't stop herself from muttering an “I miss you too,” and Carol pushes herself off the wall. She takes Stevie’s hand in her own and starts to lead them down the hall, slow and meandering.

“You know, after everything went down, I thought I hated you. It felt like I'd been betrayed by two people I thought cared about me, two people I thought I could trust."

That hurts, even though Stevie knows it's true. Tommy and Carol had been together for years before- before. When they broke up it had been a big deal in their social circle. Stevie had honestly never planned on dating Tommy, but then the letter came, and Tommy asked her out, and- and she'd been so lonely.

"It took me a long time to realize that I had nothing against you at all; it was that Tommy dropped me the second he saw a chance to be with you. Just left me like our relationship meant absolutely nothing to him. After that it was pretty easy to come to terms with the fact that I was just a placeholder for Tommy while he waited for you."

She pauses and Stevie glances up to find Carol's sharp gaze locked on her, calculating but not quite cold. "Just like you're using him as a placeholder right now.”

“Tommy's not a placeholder-”

“Eddie's out of jail.”

Stevie freezes on the spot. Carol might as well have stabbed her with the pain that shoots through her chest, the ache that had dimmed in the last four years coming back with a fucking vengeance.

“What?”

“I ran into him last week. He got out a couple months ago. Tried to get in contact with you a few times.”

Steve swallows around nothing and reaches up to grab her necklace, something that only intensifies her pain as her brain screams that it's the wrong shape, that it's not right.

“I don't know why. He already said everything he had to say to me, right in black and white.”

Carol tugs on her hand, guiding her down the hall once more. “See, I asked him about the letter, and he had no idea what I was talking about. He told me that he sent you dozens of letters, but none of them talked about him being done with you.”

Dozens? Stevie only ever got one letter from Eddie, a single page that ripped her heart to shreds, that crushed every dream she’d had about their life together. “What else did he say?” she can't help but ask, and Carol looks uncharacteristically disturbed.

“He said that Tommy and your parents have been working to keep him away from you. Steph, he said that your dad threatened him. Said that if Eddie did anything to ‘get in the way of your happiness’ that he'd make sure Eddie went back to prison and never came out again.”

Stevie stares at Carol, searching for any hint, any possibility that the woman is lying to her. Even after years apart, she can tell that Carol is telling the truth.

“Why are you telling me this?”

Carol's smile is a small, sad thing. “Like I said: we were friends, once. I want you to be happy, but more than that, you deserve to know the truth. Tommy being fucked over is just a bonus.”

She gestures to the side and Stevie looks over, out the glass door she hadn't noticed before, and sees a taxi waiting on the curb.

“That's the cab that brought me here. It's ready to take you anywhere you want to go.”

Stevie's heart lurches. She's supposed to be getting married in twenty minutes. Supposed to wear this dress she can't stand and walk down the aisle of a church she didn't choose and go to a reception that's going to be full of her parents' friends so they can show off their daughter's accomplishment.

If she was marrying the man she truly wanted, she might have been able to shove down her frustrations and just deal with it, but Tommy just isn't that man. She knows it in her heart, and when she looks at Carol, Stevie can tell that she knows it too.

And suddenly, none of it matters.

“They're gonna come looking for me.”

Carol smiles. “I'll tell them you stepped out for some air.”

Stevie is overcome by a sudden rush of affection, and she can't resist pulling her old friend into a hug. “I owe you one,” she says, and feels Carol shake her head.

“Consider it my apology for being such a bitch to you after Tommy dumped me.”

“Apology more than accepted.”

They pull apart and Stevie gives her one last smile before heading for the door.

She doesn't really remember the ride to the trailer park; it's all a blur up until the taxi slows to a stop in front of a place that Stevie used to think of as home. She thanks the driver who told her that Carol prepaid for her ride, and then climbs out.

Wayne's truck is out front, so at the very least she'll be able to apologize for not visiting anymore. She knows the man was hurting just as bad as she was when Eddie was put away, but after the letter, she hadn't even been able to look him in the face.

She knocks on the door and shifts in her heels as she waits. What if she’s too late to make things right? What if Carol really was lying and it was all just a means to get her away from the wedding, to ruin her life?

There's barely any time for her thoughts to spiral before the door swings open and she's suddenly face to face with Wayne, the man that she considered to be a better father to her than her own. He certainly seems surprised to see her, but before she can even begin to explain, he turns and calls out “Ed! You got a visitor!”

Stevie reaches for the older man and tries an “I'm so sorry-” but he shakes his head and takes her hand in his own work-worn ones.

“There'll be time for that later. I'll give you two some space for now.” He gives her hand a gentle pat before releasing it, grabs his truck keys, and heads out the door and down the steps.

Stevie hears a door open further in the trailer and steps inside just in time to see Eddie stepping into the hall, his sweatpants and tank top an extreme contrast to her lacy, fluffy wedding gown.

She's surprised to see that he's filled out a little, the lankiness he used to have now replaced with a sturdier, stronger frame, and his hair is the shortest she's ever seen it - a bit longer than buzzed now that he's been home for a little while. His eyes are the only thing that haven't changed, still the same deep pools of chocolate she remembers, although they're currently wide in surprise as he registers just who is before him.

“Stevie?”

Stevie gives a single broken “Eddie,” and then they're both moving. They meet in the middle of the tiny kitchen and cling to each other, hands and arms clutching tight like they're both worried the other will disappear if they let go. Stevie can hardly breathe through her sobs, can barely even take a breath with how her face is pressed into the skin of Eddie's neck.

The man isn't much better- she can feel the way his fingers dig into the fabric of her dress, trying to haul her closer, like the millimeters of clothing between them is still too much distance. Stevie thinks her legs must give out because they sink to the floor, her skirt pooling around them as Eddie just holds her and mutters reassurances- “I've got you baby, I'm here. Never gonna let you go again, princess.”

She doesn't know how long it takes her to stop crying. It’s only when she can actually breathe again that she pulls back enough to cup Eddie's face, to run a hand over his short curls. “Your hair,” she says, smiling through the few tears that still escape her. The man gives her a watery smile and brushes a stray lock of hair away from her face.

“I can’t believe you’re talking about me while you’re over here looking like a Bridal Barbie or something.”

That makes her laugh, and she confesses “You don’t know how much I hate this dress. It’s so awful, Teddy.”

“Let me guess, your mom vetoed the slinky, sexy dress?”

“I thought she was going to have a heart attack right there at the bridal store when I walked out wearing it.”

Eddie shakes his head and rubs his thumb over her cheek. "That's too bad. I bet you looked like a fuckin' dream, sweetheart. Honestly, you still look like a dream, even in this cake topper gown."

Stevie laughs again, and it hits her all at once how much she still loves this man, how undeniably happy he makes her. In the last four years, no one has made her feel the way Eddie did, has even looked at her the way the way he is right now. Tommy only ever looked at her with desire, like a prize to be claimed and flaunted, and her parents never really looked at her at all unless she was doing something to make them look good.

Eddie though. He's always looked at her with wonder, like he can't even believe that he's allowed to be around her, much less have her for his own. She grabs his hands, holds them tight between them.

"I left Tommy at the altar," she says and Eddie's eyes go wide in shock.

"Oh, shit. What, uh. What made you change your mind?"

"Carol came to see me. Told me what you said about him and my parents, about the letter." She pauses and takes a deep breath as tears well up in her eyes again. "Eddie, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have trusted it blindly, I should have believed in you. I promise I was gonna wait for you, and if I'm too late-"

Eddie frowns and rubs a thumb over her knuckles "I told you a long time ago, sweetheart, I'm not going anywhere unless you tell me to. Honestly, when I found out you were engaged to Tommy, I thought that I was too late. Thought I'd fucked up too bad and you finally realized you could do better."

Stevie can't help but scoff at that. "Tommy is not better than you. He just- he was there, and he wanted me, and I- I didn't want to be alone anymore. I wanted someone to love me."

A soft, broken noise escapes Eddie and he tugs her into another hug. She goes willingly, clings to him as he shifts and pulls her into his lap.

"You won't be, baby. Now that I've got you, you won't ever be lonely again, not if I can help it."

"So you still love me?" Stevie asks, her voice wavering on the question that's been plaguing her for years, the question that she needs to know the answer to.

"Oh, sweetheart, of course I still love you. You're the girl of my fuckin' dreams, you know? I think I'm always gonna love you."

He loves her.

Eddie still loves her, and it's like something at the center of her being settles into place.

She pulls back just enough to kiss him, deep and desperate and everything she's wanted in the years that he's been gone. She pours every ounce of her feelings into it, her desire, her regret, and she feels like crying all over again as he returns it tenfold.

It feels like coming home, like she can finally relax because she knows Eddie has her, will always have her. He won't brush her off the way Tommy does, won't disregard her opinions or criticize her clothes or-

God, Tommy really was a piece of shit, wasn't he?

Stevie breaks the kiss but doesn't move, lets her lips brush against Eddie's as she says “Do me a favor, baby?”

“Anything, sweetheart.”

“Take me to the courthouse. Make me your wife, please."

Eddie frowns and moves back enough so he can look her in the eye. "Stevie, maybe we should take some time to think about this. I mean- I'm not the same guy you knew when I went away-"

"And I'm not the same girl. Hell, neither of us are those dumbass high schoolers that fell in love over a fucking history project. We've both grown, both changed. But Eddie, our years together were the happiest of my life, and I've gone through all of this wedding planning bullshit wishing I was marrying you instead."

Stevie moves a hand to the back of Eddie's neck and tugs until their foreheads are pressed together, and she can stare into endless pools of Eddie's eyes. "I wanna be your wife, Eddie. We can figure out everything else after.”

Eddie lets out a shuddering breath and nods, mutters a soft "Yeah, okay. I mean, can't say I haven't literally dreamed about it."

"Well, I think we should make some dreams come true, yeah?" She presses a quick kiss to his mouth, not letting it linger before she says "You gotta change though. As hot as you look right now, we can't get married while you're in sweatpants."

They're stopped outside the church by a red light on the way to the courthouse.

Stevie can't help but grin at the sight of people scattering from the building as Tommy stands on the front steps, his face tomato red as he throws what seems to be the mother of all tantrums. Stevie's father is yelling back at him, and her mother is off to the side looking absolutely distressed as Tommy's parents try to calm the two men down.

The van is in the far right lane, giving Stevie a perfect view of the chaos, and a thought crosses her mind. She rolls down the window and shifts until her torso is nearly hanging out of it, and she brings a hand up to her mouth. The whistle is loud enough to cut through the noise, and Tommy and her parents all turn to see her.

He barely gets out a "Steph?" before she chucks the ring he proposed with in his direction. It hits the sidewalk and bounces a couple of times, and she can see when the realization of what it is hits Tommy.

"What the fuck-" he starts, but doesn't finish. Stevie yells a "Fuck you, Hagan!" and flips him off as the light changes and Eddie starts to pull away. She lurches a bit as the van moves and she feels a steadying hand settle on her waist as Eddie cackles behind her.

Stevie settles back in her seat and rolls the window up, and looks over to see Eddie beaming like he just won the lottery. "I fuckin' love you, Stephanie Harrington," he says, and she smiles as their hands lace together.

"I love you too," she replies, wanting nothing more than to cross over the center console and plant herself in Eddie's lap. "And that'll be Stephanie Munson soon, if you can hurry the fuck up."

Eddie laughs again at that and brings their hands up so he can press a kiss to the heirloom ring he'd given her earlier. "Hang on, baby."

Stevie grins as she clings to him, and as the van speeds toward the center of town, she knows she'll hang on to him as long as she possibly can.

Divider Credit

#i love a good runaway bride but i've never done one myself so #also stevie's dad is the one who pulled strings to get eddie arrested in the first place #because he hated seeing his daughter with him #female steve harrington #steddieweek2024 #stevie week #stevieweek24 #steddie #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #joey writes

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solitaryearthperson · 2 months

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I have a readiest for Daryl Dixon if your doing it and feel comfortable writing it.

I need a Daryl Dixon fic with daughter reader except she's black (no shade to any other races I just have a specific idea with this one). She'd met the group in the first season and she's related to t-dog or Jaquie and she's suffering with their death she's like shut down and angry because they were the last person she had left but Daryl (despite how he grew up) took her in and became like a father/brother figure to her.

Because in all honesty I feel like Daryl is not at all racist even in early season 2

If you don't feel comfortable writing that's fine just let me know so I can ask another creator. If you do then thank you so so much 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

(Ps. I did copy and paste this ask from when I asked another creator and so if you see it again it is me but the creator didn’t write for it because they didn’t know how to go about it)

Help

Summary: After being silent and not leaving your cell, Daryl decides to talk to you.

(The reader is gender-neutral and their relationship with Daryl is platonic. The ethnicity/race is preferably black.)

"Fuck off!"

Daryl had just entered the prison when he heard the yell and instantly ran to your cell having a sneaking suspicion about who it was that you were yelling at.

Dropping off his catch on a nearby table, his footsteps were quick and surprisingly quiet as he ran up the stairs and passed numerous cells til he finally stopped outside yours and saw who he hoped was not on the receiving end.

At the sound of his steps stopping outside, Carol had turned to see Daryl, and he tried to control the anger at seeing the tears welling up in the poor woman's face. Similar to Carol's predicament, after the tragic death of T-Dog, you and Daryl had become close. He knew what it was like to lose family and how in a world like this, it was hard to take the time to fully process and mourn their death. He wasn't that close with the man, but he had helped and survived enough with him to have enough respect for him and you, his child.

"Hey," he said softly, placing his crossbow down against the wall, nodding to Carol.

She didn't verbally say it back, only nodded her head.

"How are they," he asked, already knowing the answer wouldn't be good.

Stepping closer to him and away from the cell's entrance, she spoke lowly to him. "They're finally talking a little bit. Although it's mostly telling me to leave." She knew you were still processing his death, and didn't blame you for being mad at her. His death was horrible and everyday, she felt terrible that he had died saving her.

"Have they ate," he asked her. It had been almost two weeks since T-Dog's death, and ever since it happened, you had become mute, staying mostly in your cell, and rarely ever eating anything. You allowed him and some of the others to come in sometimes, but you constantly fought them on eating and talking.

"They've drunk some water and ate a little bit of leftovers from last night, but it wasn't much."

Letting out a sigh, he stepped around Carol and entered your cell, letting his eyes run over it. The top bunk where you used to sleep was not touched since T-Dog's death, and instead you had moved down to his bunk, where you were currently wrapped in a sheet, hugging your knees, with dark rings forming under your eyes. Although he had seen and visited you plenty of times in your cell, he wasn't sure how much sleep you had actually been getting.

"(Y/N)," he said your name, and you looked up at him with eyes that he wished he could make happy again. "You know Carol wants to help you, right?"

You didn't say anything and instead lowered your head until your forehead was touching your knees.

"You shouldn't have yelled at her," he told you. "I know you miss him, we both know it, but..." Like with Carol, he struggled to find the right words to comfort you. He knew how it felt to lose a parent, but you and T-Dog's relationship was completely different from him and his father's.

"She wanted to apologize to me," you finally spoke, your voice soft and slightly scratchy from not having spoken that much in a while. "She wanted to talk about him, tell me that she's sorry for what happened, and..." you tried to control it, but it was too late. Tears began to run down your cheeks and you looked up at Daryl to see he was looking just as sorrowful as you. "I can't, Daryl...I miss him. I wish he was here. I can't talk about him."

With that he knew what you were doing. He had suspected it for a while, but wasn't sure until now. After getting separated from Merle, he had gone through the same phase of trying to not think or talk about him too much or else he would break down. He knew that's what you needed. To finally break down and talk.

Exhaling softly, he sat down next to you and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you to lay your head on his chest, and he could feel your body begin to shake as you let out a sob. He knew this position would make you break as it was similar to how T-Dog used to hug you into his side before you both said goodnight to each other and go to your respective bunks.

Too busy crying, you didn't hear the slow footsteps outside your cell and entering it until you looked up to see Carol looking nervously down at you, her face, like Daryl's, full of sorrow.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N)," she said, kneeling down to the floor to see your face. "I know you miss him. If you ever want to talk about him, we're here. Okay?"

Silently nodding your head, you found yourself enjoying the feel of Daryl's hand comfortingly rubbing your back. You still didn't feel comfortable at the thought of talking about your father just yet, and looking down at your face, Daryl could see it as well.

"I'll talk to you 'bout Merle and you talk to me 'bout T-Dog. How 'bout that?" He had read somewhere that after losing a parent, a person needed a support system. At the time, he didn't know what it meant by 'support system,' but now, after watching the happy, smiling person he once knew become this sad, quiet shell, he realized he, Carol, and the others were what you needed right now.

"Okay," you told him, lifting your head to wipe your face.

"Good." He lifted his arm from your shoulder and stood up with Carol doing the same. "You ready to eat now, kid? I caught some rabbits. You need to eat."

Feeling your stomach twist with hunger, you nodded your head, before standing up from the bed, and letting the bed sheet fall from your shoulders. You knew he was right, and that more than likely if you said no, he and the others would have probably tried to force you to eat again.

"Are rabbits good," you asked him, following him and Carol out the cell, your steps slow and tentative.

"Yeah. Trust me, you'll like it." He walked back to you and wrapped his arm around you again, making sure to help you as much as he could.

#the walking dead #the walking dead imagine #twd #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader #the walking dead x black!reader #twd x black!reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon x black!reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you

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pollyna · 1 year

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It starts with "I don't like sex that much" and evolves, in the next two years and half, in "I'd like to have a child, would you like that?", in the same way that starts with "it's just for tonight Sli', don't get your hopes up" and evolves in "we're going to be dads!" the day Carole's first sonogram shows a little human who's growing in Carole's belly.

it goes all the way of Carole and Goose being twenty years old and in love to the point the elope the morning after Goose proposes. Mav is their only witness and the chapel they get married is so pretty Carole cries because it's absolutely perfect;

and it's not like Goose doesn't know Carole doesn't really like sex but loves kissing him and sometimes, when the mood strikes and she is giggling because her lips are puffy and a little red for all the kisses they exchanged, her hand finds her way under his pants and boxers and it's embarrassing how fast Goose cums the first time that happens. She may not like sex but Goose has always the face and the expression of a person who got laid for hours and everyone is every squadron Goose is, is envious because nobody has a wife who's better than Carole;

They talked about kids in the two years they were dating because they were already thinking about building a future so they talked almost about everything. "We could adopt" Goose has suggested to which Carole had answered "if we're going to have a kid I think I'd like to carry them. We're going to find the way Goosie, but now take my out to dance!" And the conversation pretty much died there. Until two years and half later and Carole gets down for breakfast and "it's time" to a still half asleep Goose. "Honey I get it, I really do, but we can't just throw him out!", "throw who out?", "Maverick! You said it time, but you should at least give the guy a warning!", to Carole laughing because "you silly Goose, I'm talking about having a baby, not throwing Mav out of here." The coffee stain on the floor is still visible, if one looks at the floor really carefully;

Slider is there before everything, before Carole's too and it's not like he's going to put himself in the middle or anything but when she invites him to a nice diner how can he say no? He misses spending time with Goose without all the deployment bullshit and the way Ice is a step away from snapping and biting (or kissing) Maverick. He chooses his best shirt, of a nice orange and Ice lends him his car. He pats him on the back and "see you in the morning" with the knowing look of who already knows it all, even when Slider is sure he knows nothing. But that's Iceman Kazansky for you, seven steps in front of everyone;

The dinner is chatty and Carole puts herself in the middle of the two of them when they change scenery to get a drink. "We need to ask you a favoure" Carole says, against his ear after ordering their drinks. Slider finds himself humming back because Carole is a magnetic presence and he would probably give her the moon, if they could spend enough time together for her to actually convince him to. "I need you to fuck Goose for a little while because he's a little out of practice and we want to have a baby". Now, rationally, Slider knows that's not what Carole said, word by word, but that's most of what his brain gets because Carole is sweet talking to him and Goose's fingers are playing with the hair his neck and the bastard knows that's his weak point. And so it's starts;

The first time they have the house just for them Goose says "it's just for tonight, don't get your hopes up" and Slider is a second away to leave because isn't it exactly what Goose said the first time they kissed, back in high school, when they were fourteen and scared shitless to be seen? But Slider stays, move towards Goose, cups his face and kisses him hello, goodbye and I missed you, all together. Goose kisses him back in the same way. Slider doesn't asks what's the deal between him and Carole and him being "out of pratice" because who gives a fuck when Goose's hands are under his shirt and the bed is soft under is back?;

It's not a one time thing, but Slider never stays after until he does and he wakes up with Carole cuddling between them, he face mushed against his neck and Goose arms around her and trying to touch him at the same time. It's the first time he stays over for breakfast and the first time Carole kisses him before going to work;

Ice asks if he should find somebody else, considering he's never around and Slider flips him the bird before nagging him to admit the house isn't as quiet or empty as he wants Slider to believe;

Then Carole throws her arms around Slider, a random night in a civil bar where nobodies knows she is married to Goose or who they are, and "Hey stud" and kisses him. She kisses him in the same way she kisses Goose and in which Goose kisses him. That night Slider discovers that sex has so many different forms and sometimes isn't as conventional as he thought it would be but plastered between Goose and Carole he doesn't really care;

They talk, the morning after and for most of the afternoon, about where they are going, what they want, about how they will fit and about so many other things they tire each other out to the point they falls asleep in a sort of cuddle pile and Ice and Mav find them on the couch, hour after, because they're late for they weekly dinner. Ice kisses Mav's cheek before closing the door behind him because "it's better if we let them sleep, but they will pay for the next one". Mav laughs because "next time we are going out for burgers and milkshake, the fancy shit doesn't really cut with me, even if it's only once a week."

It takes a while because after that it seems like life is trying to pull them in seven different direction all the same and they already almost sure it's going to take time because that's what all her friends tell to Carole and so they start trying, then they stop and start again and after six months is getting frustrating because it doesn't seem to work in anyway they try. Then they are going to separate deployment, half of Slider and Goose's stuff isn't ready yet, somebody passed Carole off that day and there's dinner to make, laundry to fold and they as ready to snap as ever will and it's probably when it happens or not. But the morning after they're still in bed, both Slider and Goose's back are stretch red and Carole is sporting two almost identical hitches on both side of her neck. Slider and Goose are shipped out and two months later Carole is calling them both, different hours and different carriers, to tell them she is pregnant. And then is Goose calling Slider to tell him "we're going to be dads" and Ice swears he never used so many tissues to calm Slider down. They all celebrate, in their own way, in different parts of the world. They don't know anything about this baby and they are already the more loved creature off the globe.

#polyamourous with an asexual partner #nick goose bradshaw #carole bradshaw #ron slider kerner #ace!carole #goosecarole #slooserole #past!sloose #icemav #i'm going around with this since this morning

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aceofspadille · 2 years

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When Christmas is around the corner…

Character: Law x reader (and Heart Pirate members as guests starring)

Warnings: SFW, Xmas rituals routine

Christmas is your favorite time of the year, not only you, the whole crew! Maybe less a certain grumpy captain. Let's just say he does not hate it; he just doesn't like the noises of parties echoing all over the place. He is always against the idea of decorating the Polar Tang because they would have to take them off anyway, but somehow, you manage to convince him every single year. To repeat again, every single year, the effect you have on him is remarkable; how you manage to persuade him is beyond him. He always caught himself wondering the same question every damn time.

"Oh come on. It would be so much fun!" You spoke happily to Law. "Let's buy a big tree and put it in the kitchen again, yeah, Bepo?" You turned to Bepo and excitedly suggested.

Bepo, who never wants to upset Law, was shivering still. "Y/N, maybe a tiny tree on the desk this year would be better?" He spoke in a trembling voice, looking at Law fearfully. However, once he saw you rolling your eyes and showing your dissatisfied face, he quickly bowed his head and went for his usual speech. "Sorry."

"Law! Come on!" You turned to Law again, the said person still trying to act like he didn't want to do anything with it, nor did he approve it. "No…" As Law looked up to see your face, he already saw you making your signature puppy eyes, mouthing the word 'please' trying to convince him. “Y/N…”

As he was about to speak, you made a gesture about being super sad if they don't do any decoration this year and started to talk about how you all could be missing the most beautiful time of the year and how it could affect people's lives. Nothing makes sense in your speech, but somehow it got to Law. "Alright. Fine. We go shopping tomorrow."

Law was actually surprised with himself every single year, too; going shopping for the holidays was never his priority, much less decorating it. But your happy face has some magical power; it would just make him do whatever you want; as much as he wouldn't want to do something, as long as you want to do it, he would do it with you. "Oh, come on, Law!" He thought to himself and shook his head, silently regretting that he was giving in again.

The Polar Tang docked at a winter island, Penguin and Shachi went out to buy a big tree carrying it back to the ship. You and Ikkaku went out to buy all the ornaments and decorations needed. The crew was so excited to put all the ornaments on; everyone was lending a hand to make the ship colorful.

At times, Law would be in the office thinking about when they had to take off the decorations after Christmas. And then…

"You are so square, Law!" You spoke loudly with your hands on your hips from behind the door.

"What do you want?" Law frowned at you opening his door.

"I know what's in your mind." You winked at him laughing. "Go help out." You said while pulling his arm, Law rolled his eyes at your words, but then again, he gave in. Sometimes, he thought he pampered you too much. He shouldn't, he thought.

As the decoration finished, you and the crew were so happy. Jean Bart started to bring out all the den den mushi to play Christmas carols through the radios while Shachi and Ikkaku started dancing around, then Hakugan and Clione got on baking all the Christmas treats. You hummed some Christmas melodies and looked at Law smiling; Law couldn't help feeling peaceful whenever you and the crew were surrounding him, maybe that's why he agreed to all the silly things you all want to do; he smiled, which actually surprised you. As you made your way over to Law…

"Y/N, come! The first snow is here!" Penguin ran to you from the deck as fast as he could to inform you. He knows you always love to catch first snow.

"Really? Hey Law…?" Upon seeing him shake his head, you ignored the man and ran with Shachi and Bepo, following Penguin so fast that you forgot you only wore a tank top and shorts.

As you happily watched the snow, suddenly, a cold wind blew through, and before you wanted to run inside to grab a coat, a cloak was placed over you. You turned around and saw Law looking at you. "Don't get cold. I won't be able to sleep if you sneeze or cough next to me." He said, trying to act cool while blushing. He was not used to public affection at all.

You smiled brightly and pulled him down to kiss the tip of his nose, gaining admiration sound from everyone. "Thanks, babe." You whispered into his ear, which made him blush even more. Chuckled at his reaction, you pulled Law's hands to rub your face.

As Law stood with you, watching the snow and patting your head, you smiled happily, feeling thankful for him and everyone for another year of being together, and silently wished for many more years to come.

In the Polar Tang's kitchen, Christmas carols echo through the walls into everyone's hearts.

A/N: So Christmas is coming soon! This is my favorite period of the year because it's wholesome, so I'm planning to write a Christmas theme scenario for as many One Piece characters as I can.

Thank you for reading!

Aik.

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allandoflimbo · 1 year

Text

C H A P T E R S I X

Pairings: Popular Girl!Reader x Outkast!Bucky

Explicit Content - Smut - NO MINORS

Summary:

Bucky Barnes is the quiet boy who gets picked on.

The Reader and her friends run with the popular crowd at Stark High.

As the Winter Ball approaches, she is partnered with Bucky Barnes for a class project. They grow close in an inadvertently secret friendship, which later turns into love.

Only catch is…she’s Steve Roger’s ex girlfriend, and before she was partnered up with Bucky, her friends had planned to use and turn Bucky into Stark High’s new it boy to try and get back at Steve; a disgusting bet.

Another catch: She’s a figure skater at the town’s arena every Tuesday and Thursday nights. Bucky works part time at the rink resurfacing the ice. The other doesn’t know.

Modern AU High School fic - later goes into adulthood.

M A S T E R P A G E - FULL SERIES

Warnings: This story will have a lot of angst, a lot of fluff, a lot of cursing, and a lot of sex. Oral, praise kink, body worship, overstimulation, etc. you know me. There will also be loss of virginity in this.

Please support your content creators and writers and leave a review.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

TUESDAYS were your favorite day of the week. You didn't want that olympic dream your parents wanted for you, but you loved skating nonetheless. Tuesdays were your venting days. It would be just you and the ice.

"Would you stop daydreaming so much?" Carol says from next to you. You look over to see her smiling at you, playfully, "What's on your mind?"

"Nothing. Just a good day is all." You say.

"Sure." She replies.

"Did you end up talking to Steve?" Sharon asks, leaning her shoulder against the locker next to yours.

"I did," you look at Carol and Sharon who looks at you with waiting eyes. You sigh, "We're not getting back together guys. Time to move on." You add softly. You were alright with your decision you made with Steve, but it still hurt.

"He's really staying with her?" Carol asks.

"Yes. Let him be." You say with finality.

You're grabbing your AP chemistry book when you see a familiar shape walk behind you.

"Oh, wait here." You tell the girls before closing your locker and walking up to Bucky before he's too far. "Bucky!" He stops quickly and spins around to face you. You can see the shock on his face as he looks up at Carol and Sharon, who look equally as confused and surprised as him, and then back at you.

"Uh, hey." He says slowly and cautiously as you approach him even closer. Your bright smile is contagious and he tries to ignore it.

"I have to leave earlier today, around fifth period, so I'm going to miss psych," He frowns, "So if you'd like we can do what we did last week. You can come over around six and we'll catch up then."

He silently debates with himself in his head before he responds.

"Sure," he says quietly, "I can't stay as long this time though. I need to be out by seven, the latest. I have to work tonight."

"That actually works out, because I need to leave earlier, too."

He nods and then looks over at Carol and Sharon. He gives them a greeted nod and then tells you he'll see you later.

"Yeah, see ya!"

You know you're smiling when you go back to the direction of your locker. Carol and Sharon are giving you an amused grin.

"No freakin way." Carol says it slowly.

Your brows furrow in confusion.

"What?" They are giving you that knowing stare and you find yourself already seething, "Look, you guys need to stop being mean to him. He's a nice guy, okay? Just stop. "

"Oh, it's not that." Sharon says, a smile on her lips.

"It's that smile on your face when you were talking to him and when you walked back here." Carol adds.

"What?"

Carol and Sharon look at each other, grinning.

They turn back to you.

Carol shrugs.

"He's really cute. If you're into him, go for it."

"Yeah, especially if you want to get back at Steve."

This time your blood runs hot.

"I'm not doing anything to get back at Steve. We're friends, we're okay. Also, no, I don't have a crush on Bucky. He's my psych partner. We're studying after school together. He's nice and I'm trying to be kind to him, maybe even be his friend if he lets me."

"Uhuh." Sharon says.

You don't like this. The concluding. But more than that, you don't like the confusion that warps your brain. You know why you had been oblivious for so many years, but your so called friends?

"Can I ask something?" You ask slowly and gently. The both nod, "Just last week you guys were being so mean to him. Apparently, you have been mean to him for years when I wasn't even around to see. Now all of a sudden, you are calling him cute? Being nice?" You could kind of start to see now where Bucky's hesitancy was with you, "When we all became friends, we had a code. We were always so nice to everyone. I didn't even know of this bullying crap until earlier last week. We weren't supposed to be those kind of people. Is there an explanation?" They both look at each other, and for a second you can see a linger of fear in there. This concerns you, "Guys?"

"You're right, we aren't those kind of people. We never bullied anyone, ever." Carol says, her eyes on the ground.

"That's a lie. Bucky told me, and I saw it last week—"

"Except for Bucky and because Matt was there."

You confusion is out the rough now. What were they talking about?

"That still doesn't make it okay. You're not supposed to bully people. It's wrong. It's disgusting. And Matt? What does he have to do with it? And specifically Bucky?" You ask suspiciously.

Sharon is about to speak when the bell rings, piercing their tension like a hot knife.

You look between your so-called friends.

"I want an explanation later. I know you two aren't the kind of people Matt wants you to be, if that's what you're talking about. Even Sam, the biggest sweetheart, and Steve the most popular guy in this school who also happens to be really nice and has never hurt a fly in his life, has stuck with you two for a reason. We don't need to change face because of Murdock."

You walk past them, heading to class.

What didn't you know?

You just about place the cookies on the cooling rack when your doorbell rings.

Walking towards the door, you tug on the hem of your black and oversized sweatshirt a little further down your tights-clad thighs.

You swing the door open to see Bucky standing there, his black bag swung over his shoulder.

"Hey!" You offer him a small smile and open the door more, "Come in."

He walks in and then stares after you as you close the door and then run into the direction of what could only be the kitchen, judging by a corner of a silver fridge that he can see.

"I made us cookies! I literally just took them out so give me like two more minutes and then I'll put them on a plate for us."

Oh, that's what that amazing smell was.

"Okay." He says.

He doesn't know what else to say. He feels awkward? Nervous? He's so used to always picturing you in his head as the girl he despised, but now after your recent chats, he looked at you a little differently. Not in disdain but...wonder?

You definitely were a little strange.

"You can come in here, you know." You say. He clears his throat and then retraces your steps. When he steps into the kitchen you're wafting the steam of the cookies up to your face and grinning, "I hope you like the classic." You reach down to grab one of the cookies and then you take a piece of napkin. You hiss as you break it in half, the steam burning you.

"Careful." He says quietly, "Shouldn't you let them rest more?" He asks.

You watch as a big string of chocolate lingers between the two halves you broke off.

"Nope. It's perfect."

He frowns at you. You really were an interesting girl.

You grab the plate that was already ready on the island and start to put the cookies on them. When you're done you hand it to him.

"You're carrying them."

He raises a brow at you.

"To your room?"

"No. To the post office. Yes, to my room." You chuckle.

He glares at you, a smile finally wanting to break over his face. But he holds it down.

"I never would've pegged you for being so sarcastic."

You walk around him, making your way into the foyer and up the stairs.

"Ha. Pegged."

He rolls his eyes as he follows you like a little puppy, plate in hands. Plural, because you decided to make a batch of about thirty cookies.

"You can put them on my desk. We'll eat them while we watch that video that's suggested on page five of lesson four. I even pulled out a second chair for you."

You really did do your homework.

It's not that he expected any less of you, that wasn't it. You impressed him, is all.

He didn't even know there was video in today's lesson.

He puts the plate on your desk and then goes to sit next to you on your bed, his back closest to your plush pillows. The same place he sat last time.

You both pull out your things and get started. Not even five minutes in, he notices your lack of concentration and the way you keep looking at him, distracted.

"Okay, is there something on my face?" He asks.

"No." You shake your head.

"Then what is it?" He snaps, putting his notebook on the bed, "Because I've asked you question three four times and instead of answering you're just staring at me with this confused look."

"You know you don't have to be tense around me, right?" You ask so left field and randomly that his mouth gapes for a few long seconds instead of saying anything, "I'm over here, legs criss cross, poking at my socks and resting my chin on my hand, and you've been in the same stiff position for almost ten minutes. Looking like a damn four by four from Home Depot. All that's left is for you to cross your hands in your lap and cross one leg over the other." He lifts a brow at you and your smile, "I get it. It's my home so I'm naturally more relaxed, but I don't want you to always feel like this is a prison or something. Or, god forbid, school. You're in my room, on my Anthropologie comforter, and there's a hot plate of cookies waiting for us to just devour. I invited you here because I trust you and I think you're a nice guy and because I want us to get along. The last thing I want is for you to feel uncomfortable forever."

He narrows his eyes at you and then rolls them. He reaches down and starts to slowly pull off his sneakers.

"You sure talk in essays, that's for sure. You could literally sum that all up by just saying make yourself at home." There's a sweet tone to his voice you never heard before. He was joking with you. It made you smile even wider.

You can't help the way you rejoice inside when he scoots farther onto your bed, this time bringing his own lips entirely on top of it. He even removes his jacket and then runs a hand through his hair, pulling at it.

"Better?" He asks.

"Much." You say.

He hums a response, picking his notebook back up again.

"I didn't peg you for being so into hospitality." He emphasizes the word purposefully.

"You didn't peg me at all." You say with a shrug.

A sound that seemed to make everything click into place, reverberates around the room. It was heartfelt and sweet. Bucky laughed.

You can't help but chuckle in response.

"Alright, let's do this, come on. We don't have a lot of time." He says, this time giving you possibly the sweetest smile you've ever received in your eighteen years of life.

It doesn't take more than twenty minutes for you to finish the written and verbal lesson. Before either of you know it, you're already setting up your laptop for the YouTube video.

You're glad to see Bucky swinging back in his own chair, munching on a cookie.

"Our wifi has been a bit crappy the last few days so it might take a few minutes for it to buffer."

"That's cool." He says.

"What time do you have to be at work?"

"Seven thirty, but I have to stop by at home and then till I get there it'll already be time."

You nod, leaning back in your own chair.

You take your own cookie and start eating it.

"I think I might've gone a little overboard, huh?" You asks, gesturing to the plate.

"A bit." Bucky says with a chuckle.

"I'll fix you a container. You can take some home with you." You add quietly.

He looks at you, his face softening.

"That's okay, you don't have to." He says.

"You're taking some with you and that's the end of that discussion."

He doesn't fight you on it. He knows you saw his mother that day. It was on her appointment day.

If this was either an action out of kindness of your soul or even a little bit a pity, it was still really sweet of you.

His eyes are lingering over your desk as you wait for the video to finish buffering. He doesn't even think before he asks.

"Who's the guy?" He asks, gesturing to the photo. He knows you and Steve Rogers had been dating for years, and that obviously wasn't him.

There's a silence after his question and he looks over at you from his half eaten cookie. When he sees your reaction and face he regrets asking.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry. It's fine." He sticks the rest of the cookie in his mouth and chews, "These are delicious by the way. Thank you. I realized I forgot to say it." He says when he's done swallowing.

You nod looking down at your hands.

"You're welcome," your eyes go back to the photo, "That's my brother. He was a few years older than me. He died six months ago. In a car accident."

Bucky opens his mouth and then closes it again. He feels terrible. The tremble in your voice is evident.

He feels something hollow in his chest and he also remembers what you told him recently about the change that happened half a year ago and he wonders if this had something to do with it.

He didn't forget.

"I was in the car with him." The way you say it was like you were remembering that day and playing it back to yourself.

"I'm sorry." Bucky says.

You simply nod.

He's in a trance as he watches you brush a lonely tear from your cheeks.

This girl was so different than the happy cheerful one from a few minutes ago. He can't help the jolt he feels inside of his chest at the need and want to bring her back.

You just about place the cookies on the cooling rack when your doorbell rings.

Walking towards the door, you tug on the hem of your black and oversized sweatshirt a little further down your tights-clad thighs.

You swing the door open to see Bucky standing there, his black bag swung over his shoulder.

"Hey!" You offer him a small smile and open the door more, "Come in."

He walks in and then stares after you as you close the door and then run into the direction of what could only be the kitchen, judging by a corner of a silver fridge that he can see.

"I made us cookies! I literally just took them out so give me like two more minutes and then I'll put them on a plate for us."

Oh, that's what that amazing smell was.

"Okay." He says.

You definitely were a little strange.

"Careful." He says quietly, "Shouldn't you let them rest more?" He asks.

You watch as a big string of chocolate lingers between the two halves you broke off.

"Nope. It's perfect."

He frowns at you. You really were an interesting girl.

You grab the plate that was already ready on the island and start to put the cookies on them. When you're done you hand it to him.

"You're carrying them."

He raises a brow at you.

"To your room?"

"No. To the post office. Yes, to my room." You chuckle.

He glares at you, a smile finally wanting to break over his face. But he holds it down.

"I never would've pegged you for being so sarcastic."

You walk around him, making your way into the foyer and up the stairs.

"Ha. Pegged."

He rolls his eyes as he follows you like a little puppy, plate in hands. Plural, because you decided to make a batch of about thirty cookies.

"You can put them on my desk. We'll eat them while we watch that video that's suggested on page five of lesson four. I even pulled out a second chair for you."

You really did do your homework.

It's not that he expected any less of you, that wasn't it. You impressed him, is all.

He didn't even know there was video in today's lesson.

He puts the plate on your desk and then goes to sit next to you on your bed, his back closest to your plush pillows. The same place he sat last time.

You both pull out your things and get started. Not even five minutes in, he notices your lack of concentration and the way you keep looking at him, distracted.

"Okay, is there something on my face?" He asks.

"No." You shake your head.

"Then what is it?" He snaps, putting his notebook on the bed, "Because I've asked you question three four times and instead of answering you're just staring at me with this confused look."

He narrows his eyes at you and then rolls them. He reaches down and starts to slowly pull off his sneakers.

"Better?" He asks.

"Much." You say.

He hums a response, picking his notebook back up again.

"I didn't peg you for being so into hospitality." He emphasizes the word purposefully.

"You didn't peg me at all." You say with a shrug.

A sound that seemed to make everything click into place, reverberates around the room. It was heartfelt and sweet. Bucky laughed.

You can't help but chuckle in response.

"Alright, let's do this, come on. We don't have a lot of time." He says, this time giving you possibly the sweetest smile you've ever received in your eighteen years of life.

It doesn't take more than twenty minutes for you to finish the written and verbal lesson. Before either of you know it, you're already setting up your laptop for the YouTube video.

You're glad to see Bucky swinging back in his own chair, munching on a cookie.

"Our wifi has been a bit crappy the last few days so it might take a few minutes for it to buffer."

"That's cool." He says.

"What time do you have to be at work?"

"Seven thirty, but I have to stop by at home and then till I get there it'll already be time."

You nod, leaning back in your own chair.

You take your own cookie and start eating it.

"I think I might've gone a little overboard, huh?" You asks, gesturing to the plate.

"A bit." Bucky says with a chuckle.

"I'll fix you a container. You can take some home with you." You add quietly.

He looks at you, his face softening.

"That's okay, you don't have to." He says.

"You're taking some with you and that's the end of that discussion."

He doesn't fight you on it. He knows you saw his mother that day. It was on her appointment day.

If this was either an action out of kindness of your soul or even a little bit a pity, it was still really sweet of you.

His eyes are lingering over your desk as you wait for the video to finish buffering. He doesn't even think before he asks.

"Who's the guy?" He asks, gesturing to the photo. He knows you and Steve Rogers had been dating for years, and that obviously wasn't him.

There's a silence after his question and he looks over at you from his half eaten cookie. When he sees your reaction and face he regrets asking.

You nod looking down at your hands.

"You're welcome," your eyes go back to the photo, "That's my brother. He was a few years older than me. He died six months ago. In a car accident."

Bucky opens his mouth and then closes it again. He feels terrible. The tremble in your voice is evident.

He feels something hollow in his chest and he also remembers what you told him recently about the change that happened half a year ago and he wonders if this had something to do with it.

He didn't forget.

"I was in the car with him." The way you say it was like you were remembering that day and playing it back to yourself.

"I'm sorry." Bucky says.

You simply nod.

He's in a trance as he watches you brush a lonely tear from your cheeks.

This girl was so different than the happy cheerful one from a few minutes ago. He can't help the jolt he feels inside of his chest at the need and want to bring her back.

Bucky walks into his living room to his parents sitting there and talking. The television is on, but the volume is low.

They politely greet him, but he can't help but notice the tension in the air. Whatever they had been talking about was serious.

He looks between them but their eyes are on his hands.

"Y/N, made cookies for you." He tells them, "I need to get to work. I'll leave them in the kitchen. I'll help you switch tanks before I go, mom."

"Tell her I say thank you." His mother says. Bucky overhears his father asking his mother who you were. "His study partner." She tells him.

Bucky grabs one more cookie before making his way to his parent's room to grab his mother's things.

Then it was off to the rink.

You could already feel the emotions running through your veins as the first note of the song started.

Once last glance at the ice beneath your skates and you were brought back to that day six months ago.

Ice.

Your biggest enemy and your biggest defeat.

You carved lines into where she hurt the most, and you created circles and hearts into her deepest imperfections. You took from her what she took from you.

And you took it from her over and over and over again.

Bucky's there a half hour early but he doesn't care. They knew everyone had been out of there for at least an hour.

At least he had thought so.

He's grabbing the main arena key and his ice shoes when he hears the beginning of a song, coming from the arena.

He frowns, not had expecting someone to still be there this late.

He walks down the long hallway and then makes a right, the shortest entrance to the ice rink.

Opening the door and walking in, he catches sight of a girl, twirling gracefully in the middle of the spotlight.

Because of her angle he couldn't make out her face, but her hair was in a tight bun.

He had seen figure skaters before, but there was something so different about this dance.

It was heartbreakingly passionate. The music is loud around them and he decides then that he shouldn't be intruding as such a private moment.

He lets the door close behind him and decides to wait in the main office until the girl is done.

At the end of of your axel jump, you think you see a movement from behind. It nearly startles you and you almost lose your footing.

But as you keep yourself steady and look at that spot, you notice there was nothing there.

—

Song reader is skating to in this chapter is Crashing by ILLENIUM (feat. Bahari)

N E X T C H A P T E R

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x you #marvel fanfic #fanfiction

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fumikomiyasaki · 1 year

Note

👀, ☂, 💚 and/or 💙 for any pairs you want? :)c

Short drabbles

☂: my muse offering yours an umbrella for the rain.

Recently the weather always been rather unpredictable... Autumn still stayed warm for a while but as Suzuki was on her way to the Ramshackle dorm suddenly a pouring rain forced her to take shelter. Looking at the courtyard annoyed her... why did it have to rain now... well it couldnt be helped. As she sighed and took out a book sitting on the floor she noticed a pair of steal shoes that were familiar to her.. Leroy standing with his umbrella looking at her with a smile.

"You need a way back? We could share the unbrella."

He scratched his cheek with a light blush as she got up and packed her book in her bag. Even if she didn't show it she was relieved she finally could leave this place

"Thank you, Lee."

Walking together both flinched a little as they touched shoulders... they seemed like a true Anime trope couple like this in Leroys eyes which made him Happy but also nervous... and it didn't help that she place his hand on his as he didn't focus on holding the umbrella... both blushing and avoiding Eye contact untill they arrived at Ramshackle.

"The last time I Met you in the rain I barely recognized you cause of all the hair in your face... you can always call me if you forgot your umbrella."

"You know we don't always have classes at the same time..."

"I know just wishfull thinking. "

"You don't... nevermind..."

Awkward both looked at another... as Leroy wanted to leave he suddenly stopped himself and turned around.

"How about we watch something together till the rain stops... at least until the other dorm members come... maybe the rain is gone when I got to Monsville. "

She gave a small nod and let him Into the dorm... seems him and direct about it at least gave him a nice afternoon... yet he got a scolding from his dorm leader later.

-------

💚: my muse being carried by your muse.

Silent as usual Kumo took a break under the tree in the courtyard but to his surprise he suddenly heard a Voice shouting his name as Corry came rushing up go him and almost leaped onto him for a hug...

"Kumo!!! I missed you "

"I did as well my Shootingstar... but be more carefull... look at your leg."

A big bruise Was on Corrys leg but he just faced him with a smile.

"It is nothing really. Seeing you was worth it."

Kumo sighed and picked him up in his arms.. placing a kiss on his cheek.

"I still won't accept my Star to get Hurt.. let me get you somewhere to treat you."

"If it's Important to you... but I do want a lot of kisses as reward."

The silent Thief showed him a small smile and nodded.

"Anything for my Shootingstar star."

---

👀: my muse noticing/admiring yours from afar.

Each time she needed some rest from lessons and tutoring it drew her outside among the trees... but this day she often got distracted from he Medival Story... from the Knight Protagonist to an actual one. Noriko was practising some strikes nearby... and even if Carol didn't mean to stare often her eyes wandered of that book to them... falling into daydreams again...

Eventually the daydreams had her so lost she accidentally gasped as a Butterfly flew onto her nose before smiling and apoligizing to it letting it sit on her hand.. yet that gasp was heard by them as well looking at her as she blushed a little.

"S-sorry I disturbed your training."

"It's fine... you need a rest as well right."

"If you knew.. I feel I spend the whole morning running from that Reaper again... "

"Him.. that Bastard that is after Victoria as well."

Carol looked at him and put a Hand on His shoulder.

"It's sweet how dedicated you are to her. I admire that.... sadly there is not much we can do against him... so we just have to find a way to avoid him.. "

"Still... if you are bothered by him, tell me... I will take any opportunity to push him away."

Her cheeks grew rosy as she nodded.

"Truely a protector like my books... My bad, dont pay mind what I said but I am Happy for the offer... I am bothered a lot so it's good to have less headaches... thank you Noriko."

A warm smile of hers suddenly caught them of guard, blushing a little too.

"It's nothing... if you excuse me."

"Right... maybe I will see you later.~"

#twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland ocs #twst #disney twst #twst ocs #twistedwonderland #twistedwonderlandoc #leroy x suzuki #kumo x corry #carol x noriko #leroy violet #kumo starwing #carol ann

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mandareeboo · 1 year

Text

Unfinished Work #56 "Prior Warnings"

I have nothing to add to this, unfortunately! It was originally gonna be a deep delve into Mariner's issues with stuff. The basic plot line feels pretty obvious- Petra helped Mariner get back on her old medication (for bipolar disorder) and via flashbacks we learn she got diagnosed not long after the war and Buenamigo discouraged her from taking it to keep her unbalanced. It just never had a good ending point.

Title: Prior Warnings

Summary: N/A

"I just wanted to let you know," Beckett says, "y'know, so you don't see it on my file later and have a conniption fit?"

Captain Freeman very pointedly ignores that, studying the updated medical info. Most of it is things she knows. A long life under various healing instruments, multiple surgeries, quite a few charges of disorderly conduct to medical staff. The Abilify is new, but not exactly surprising.

She raised an immaculate eyebrow. "The hell is Tegretol?"

Mariner shifts quite awkwardly, and Carol knows she's hit a nerve. But what else was she supposed to say? It's the only new thing on the damn list.

"It's an old prescription," she decides finally. "Got back on it when I was hanging with Petra."

Captain Freeman hides her frown behind the hologram. Well, as close to hiding it as she can. It's still a bit of a sore spot between the two of them. "Why did you stop before?"

Mariner shrugs. "Didn't want you to see it."

Ah, yes. Because that's comforting. "This medication is necessary, then?"

"Necessary to keep me on track, yeah."

"Alright then." Carol hits the acceptance button. Technically, it's not her jurisdiction to have to do that, but it makes more sense than having Mariner haul the thing down to T'ana. "Should I be concerned about what I just signed?"

"It's medicine, mom," Mariner sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. "For my manic episodes."

She blinks. Blinks again. "I wasn't aware you were diagnosed."

"Yeah, yeah, it happened awhile ago. I just..." Mariner shrugged, crossing her arms defensively. "I like who I am when I'm stable."

Captain Freeman raises her hands in surrender. "You don't have to explain it to me, sweetie."

"Yes," Mariner says, staring at the floor, "I do."

———————————————————————————————————-

"You're going to have to explain it to her, you know."

Mariner's knee bounced, heel tapping obnoxiously against the hospital floor. "What does she even know? What does it matter?"

Uncle Les smiles at her in a way that she finds comforting then but will find sinister much later. "Beckett, you know how Carol is. A great woman. A great Captain. But... not the most understanding. I just worry she'll try to give you medical discharge."

"No, no, no," she mumbles, leg bouncing higher and higher. "She can't. I can't. Doesn't she understand that?" Mariner's breathing went as high as her leg as she tried to calm herself, fingers digging into those weird chairs no one actually feels comfortable in. "Who am I kidding? She doesn't care. And dad doesn't either. He kicked my ass from his ship for a reason."

He pats her shoulder. "S'okay, Mariner. No one says you have to take the meds."

(Buenamigo never said anything bad back then. Mariner can only assume his reasons now. He wanted her unstable. He wanted her to destroy the Freeman family inside and out. And, goddamnit, she kinda did.)

———————————————————————————————————-

"Blurgh," she decides one morning, rolling over in her cot. "Leave me to die."

But Boimler is not as forgiving of her truancy as Mariner lets herself be. He's already in uniform, shaking her shoulder. It's like being on a ship. And not a cool ship. One of those dinky ones on water from the bygone era. "C'mon, get up. I will not be held responsible for you missing your shift."

"You don't have to babysit me," she pouts.

"Someone has to," he rebuffs, with that casual fondness that told Mariner she had the boy hook, line, and sinker. Most days Mariner loves how much her friends care, how they go out of their way to try and help. Today is not one of those days. "Up. I'll replicate a hose, don't test me."

Mariner flipped him off.

"You're not, like, actually sick, are you?" Rutherford asks, coming up to press a hand to her hip. He's a touchy guy. Mariner likes that about him. "Because I will not be okie-dokie if you keel over the entire shift."

"I can be persuaded with blood samples," Tendi chirps, scrolling through her daily routine.

"'M not sick. 'M nauseous," each word comes out like pulled teeth. "Side effect."

"Of?"

"Nunya."

"Mariner," Boimler whines. "We both know the Captain'll haul me into her chambers for a report if you don't come. I cannot handle that pressure today."

Tendi pulls something out of her personal shelf with a triumphant cry, and then there's a needle in Beckett's neck. The world slowly begins to right itself again as the Orion casually pulls her into a sitting position, showing off her now-empty injector with a jazzy wiggle. "I've been keeping them on hand to help with your symptoms," she explains casually, as if Mariner's info isn't private, as if Tendi hadn't hacked the system to help her deal with this.

"D'Vana," Becket says, in all seriousness, "you're a goddess."

"I still want those blood samples," she tells her, grinning ear to ear. "Your physiology is so interesting! Being under the beams but refusing to be healed all the way for your badass scars has left some seriously neat outliers."

———————————————————————————————————-

"They may... want to do some tests."

"Oh, bullshit." Mariner rolls her eyes. "Bipolar isn't new."

"No, but it is uncured."

"So is every goddamn mental illness."

"Exactly!" Uncle Les held up his hands. "You know how medical can be."

(Tendi makes it okay, she reminds herself firmly. Tendi would never harm her. Or, well, if she did, she'd at least warn her beforehand. Tendi's heard plenty of stories of her clocking assholes in the jaw for less.)

———————————————————————————————————-

"It's like you're a whole different person," Ransom marvels over their weekly beer night, and Beckett bristles.

"Am not," she snaps back. "I'm still the same psycho badass who'd fight you over the last martini."

Ransom shakes his head, looking disappointed in himself. "Bad choice of words. But you're a lot... calmer? You talk slower. You're thinking things out more. People can actually have a conversation with you."

"It's like pulling teeth," she admits cheerfully. "You know how hard it is to argue when I talk like a grandma? What the hell am I supposed to do?"

"Listen to the other side and find compromise?"

"Hmm, no, gross."

He snorts and takes a long swig. Weekly beer night is also, arguably, a strange aspect of the newly medicated Beckett Mariner. Ransom had done everything short of begging Freeman to let her have a different mentor. And as obnoxious as Ransom was, she kind of got it? They'd always mingled like oil and water. Alcohol hadn't exactly fixed the situation, but it had made it more bearable on both of them.

Ransom swishes his beer in his mouth and swallows. Beckett opened her mouth to mock him for it, but he beat her to the punch. "So, uh, freshly diagnosed orrrr..."

"The fuck, Jack? Did you go snooping on my files?"

He levelled her a very flat look. "Mariner, your twisted ass mental state has been a long-time bet on the Cerritos. I just happen to know what mania looks like."

"Huh," she said, not having known that. "No, long time ago. Blipped on the radar after my first PTSD scan, so... six years ago? Seven?"

Ransom, damn him, can do basic math. "You were, what, nineteen? Twenty?"

"Yeah, man. I had a lot of messed up shit happen to me in my late teen years."

"Huh," he echoed, not exactly sounding surprised by that. "That damn war ruined all of us."

Mariner, deciding not to answer that, slugs her beer. "So, Jack. You win that bet?"

"Heh, nah. I found the whole thing invasive and rude. I put down for brain worms."

"Rude."

———————————————————————————————————-

"What if... what if they like me better... stable?" Mariner asks quietly.

Uncle Les pats her shoulder, nodding sympathetically. "They might."

"But I'll still be me. I'll just be less hyper."

"So they'll like diet you more. It's normal. You're.. a handful, Beckett."

(Better a handful than complacent. Ransom gets that. They hate each other, but they at least understand each other.)

#Unfinished Work #Star Trek: Lower Decks #Lower Decks #Beckett Mariner #Carol Freeman #Bradward Boimler #D'vana Tendi #Samanthan Rutherford #Jack Ransom

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terrovaniadorm · 2 years

Note

💟➡ Yuzuha and Elise having their dumb dark humor gags probably

🍓➡RonCarol

Giving to my muse: 💟➡ to give a silly Valentine’s card

🍓➡ to feed my muse fresh chocolate-dipped strawberries

Elise never really cared about this day, too soft, too romantic but ever since she started dating Yuzuha... She had at least something to look forward for. And there it was, she promised to visit him in his school after his work, she leaned back on the wall, watching him walk his way towards her.

"Hey..."

Yuzuha quietly waved at her, she waved back, even if she wasn't smiling she was really happy to see him. "How was work?" she asked, "Oh it's same as always you know..." "Anyone bothering you?" Yuzuha quickly shook his head, "No! Not at all!" he answered quickly, which pleased Elise, he must be doing good.

They walked in the courtyard, chatting casually as most students already left the area, leaving just two of them with a few other students. Elise talking about a book that caught her interest, suddenly Yuzuha stopped, Elise stopping in her tracks as well. "Actually... I remembered i think i should gift you this." before she could question, he pulled up a card and hand it over to Elise, a Valentine's Day card? That wasn't what she expected.

"Eye love you,be my Valentine?"

Was what read on the card, with a picture of an bloody eye. Obviously Elise started laughing, till she teared up, Yuzuha giggled along. "Wow, that's pretty good Yuzu, hah..." she wiped a tear with a finger, Yuzuha smiled wide "I knew you'd enjoy it." "Of course i do, that's very cute of you." and with that she gave him a kiss on the cheek, black lipstick staining his cheek.

"Remind me to repay you later."

Confactoria is a busy dorm, especially during Valentine's days, Cadbury was a man who strives for perfection and as his best friend Ronald of course helped him but Carol couldn't help but feel a little sad he was busy on a day like this!

Obviously with the suggestion of her friends she decided to visit him, maybe help him with his work, as much as she could at least, Cadbury was hard to convince but he did luckily have her an easy task: Chocolate dipped strawberries. Carol was doing pretty well, all she had to do was dip strawberries in chocolate, meanwhile Ronald focused on making chocolate boxes.

"How are you holding up back there?" Ronald asked, looking back at her from the other counter, after dipping another berry she looked back and smiled, "Oh it's pretty well, i am glad i don't struggle much." she couldn't help as her cheeks got a little red when Ron smiled so brightly at her.

"If you need anything I'm almost done with the last box, it would be faster if we did it together."

Carol nodded "O-Of course!"

After he was done with decorating the last box true to his word he started helping Carol, they had only 2 baskets left and it was easy doing it together like he said.

A while of dipping berries and chatting, Carol got an idea, grabbing one of the berries she turned to Ron, "Hey, would you like to taste-test?" she tilted her head, Ronald looked down at her "Well...Caddy wouldn't like it if we had berries missing." Carol knew he'd probably be a bit upset but it's just one out of dozens, "It could be our little secret" she gave him a wink, her confidence was obvious.

"Fine, only one though." Ronald chuckled, leaning down a bit so Carol could push the strawberry against his lips, he could take a bite. She also used this moment to admire his face... He took a bite and she simply watched.

"Great job Carol, they do taste great."

They both had a good laugh and finished their work.

Of course Cadbury noticed one missing strawberry afterwards, he glared a bit but seeing how happy the two was he huffed and dismissed it.

#Thanks for the ask!#My writing style is very consistent guys i swear #But it was fun #I bullshited some shitty joke for the card sorry 💀#Twst oc #Other characters #Yuzuha Aimon #Carol ann #Elise Sanson #Ronald Ardit #Answered #Valentines asks #Long post

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romanoffsbish · 2 years

Text

Chapter 47: You’re Real?

Chapter 46 | Masterlist | Chapter 48 | Words: 1,984

Y/N’s POV

My head is killing me, as is the remainder of my body to be quite honest. I slowly open my eyes, taking in my surroundings, and it's a packed house.

———

Vision's asleep, or I guess "shutdown", in the recliner. Thor's asleep in the fetal position on the floor, while cuddling with his axe, and suckling on his thumb—I truly hate that this isn't the weirdest thing I've ever seen.

Wanda's in bed beside me sleeping peacefully—literally, she must've already woken up and moved into my bed. Carol is asleep to the right of Wanda's empty bed. I look ahead to see Natasha is asleep sitting up, leaning against the wall, and Yelena's asleep with her head in her lap.

She looks so worn down, she definitely aged up while I was gone, but is just as beautiful as the day we met—if not more so.

"Hey Nugget..."

I all but jump out of my skin at the sound of Tony's voice, having been so focused on Nat I'd not even seen him enter, I quickly look up to see his broken smile as he stares down at me.

"Hey.. Are you okay?" I croak out, and he immediately moves to pour the water into a glass for me.

"Me? What about you? You're the one in the bed." He attempts to deflect.

"Tony." I say with an intense glare, and grip his hand in mine.

"I just... I gave up Y/N/N, and I'm so sorry... Nat and Wanda fought so hard to get you back, and I just coward away in my cabin."

"Hey, you were just surviving, it's okay. You stepped up when it counted..."

"Stop always excusing my shitty behavior.."

"If I don't excuse you sometimes, then that leaves Pepper with all the work."

His gaze remains sad, not even a hint of amusement behind his eyes...

"Seriously though, Tony, you couldn't do anything until Scott was back. You did what needed to be done—you raised your daughter. Morgan deserved to have normalcy, and you gave it to her. I'm more than okay with that."

"You really are mom's mini me..." He sighs, as tears fall down his cheeks.

"Oh my gosh, speaking of mom... I saw her."

"What?" He gasps with a quirked brow, as he looks at my morphine drip.

"I know, it sounds crazy, but it was right after I snapped. I felt her warm embrace, and as soon as her Chanel No.5 hit my nostrils I knew she wasn't a figment of my imagination. Tones, she's happy for us, and she forgives you for what happened, even though she did say she wanted to slap you upside the head... She also told me to kiss her grand baby, and to pass off her name to my future kids... Also, she loves Natty, which warms my heart...I'm just... It was nice is all, I wish you could've been there too..."

He sadly smiles at me, nodding along to all I rambled on about, then he leaned down to kiss my temple.

"Are you up for a visitor then?" He whispers, and pushes my hair out of my face.

I nod vehemently, smiling widely at the idea of seeing her after all this time.

He slightly leans my bed up for me, Wanda groans but remains asleep, then he instructs Pepper to enter the room with a sleeping Morgan.

"She's a heavy sleeper, so really we're bringing her here to sleep with you for the rest of the night." Tony whispers, as Pepper places Morgan atop of me.

I stare down at her, holding back the tears threatening to fall as I'm now seeing her for the first time in two years. What was merely the blink on an eye for me, was actually two years for everyone else. Wanda, and Natasha had to live without Yelena and I, returning to our apartment to be reminded daily that we were gone. There lives must've been incredibly boring. Morgan went through critical milestones, and I wasn't there to see them. She's practically doubled in size, and I basically missed all the snuggly years, if she's anything like Tony and I, she's probably massively independent...

"Hey, it's okay.. She's really missed you, prepare yourself for insanity." Tony whispers once more, wiping the tear threatening to fall, and ruffling my hair slightly before him and Pep slip out.

Morgan mindlessly readjusts, rolling around until she's seemingly comfortable, tugging the dilapidated dino plushy I got her even closer to her tiny body. Her body eventually settled in between Wanda's and mine, and her face was buried into the crook of my neck.

I was about to fall asleep, but then I felt someone nudge me awake…

Bucky’s POV

I’m returning the stones tomorrow, and subsequently returning myself as well.

Before I do, I want to say my goodbyes, so I sneak into Y/N’s room as Tony and Pepper leave.

“Hey there kiddo…”

“Barnes, how many times do I have to tell you, stop calling me kiddo.” She groans, as she opens her eyes to look at me.

“Y/N, I—.”

“You’re leaving…” She replies, with a sad smile.

“Yeah… I am tasked with returning the stones tomorrow, and I am not coming back.”

“I understand… I’m sorry about Steve, I know how much you meant to one another. I’m sure he was miserable the last two years without you. I’m going to miss you terribly old man..” She states, a devious smirk taking place upon her face.

“Hey… if I can’t call you kiddo, you can’t call me old man.” I groan, but smile at her anyways, and she returns the smile.

“Take care of yourself Barnes, go find that happiness you deserve.”

“You do the same doll, thank you for everything you’ve given me.” I sincerely state, sweetheart her shoulder gently, as she squeezes it in return.

Nat's POV

I woke up with a start as the sun seeped into the hospital room, settling down quickly in an attempt to not wake Yelena up; to my surprise, she'd already been awake, staring up at me.

"Good morning Nat, your legs are rather comfortable."

"Good morning Lena, glad to be of service." I reply with a playful smirk, then lean down to kiss her forehead.

"Disgusting... Do it again." She mumbles out, then I chuckle lightly before repeating the action.

"Are you okay?" She genuinely asks, her gaze softening ever so slightly.

"I am now." I sigh out, while running my fingers through her knotted hair, while looking up from Lena, to see that Wanda, Y/N and Morgan are all cuddled up together.

The sight makes my heart melt, but then within an instant I'm lowly burning with jealousy.

That should be me...and it will be!

As I'm concocting a plan for our escape, an assistant of Tony's walks in with a tray of breakfasts for everyone. Yelena jumps up from my lap to immediately collect a tray, and I move to start waking everyone else up.

"Auntie Nat?" Morgan groggily questions, as she rubs her eyes and tries to get a hold on where she is.

"Hey there little love." I coo, while pushing the hair out of her sleepy face.

"Where am I?" She hums, while simultaneously snuggling further into Wanda and Y/N's warmth.

"Open your eyes, and find out." I playfully whisper, so she peeks through with one eye and gasps.

"Auntie Y/N/N?!" She shouts, and moves up onto her knees, landing directly on Y/N's abdomen and Y/N instantly opens her eyes.

"You're a lot heavier than I remember." Y/N groans, then smiles up at her.

"I missed you so much." Morgan whisper shouts, as her lip begins to quiver, then she falls on top of Y/N, and sobs directly against her collarbone's.

"Oh, sweet girl, was your dad really that bad?" Y/N jokes, while rubbing her back, and Morgan giggles, and leans in closer to Y/N.

"I missed you too, pretty girl." Y/N whispers, then she looks up to me with teary eyes, and a pouty lip, clearly overwhelmed.

I lean in to place a kiss to her forehead, inhaling deep whiffs of her natural scent, instantly feeling as my nervous system calms. Then I move down to kiss her nose, and she lightly giggles. Finally, I land on her lips, sighing instantly as I relish in the missed feeling. Our lips move perfectly against each other, the kiss is slow and sweet, and throws my mind for a loop.

"Natty, it's okay..." Y/N mumbles against my lips, and that's when I realize I am crying.

"I missed you so much, detka..." I shakily mumble against her lips, then pull back slightly, resting my forehead against hers, as I work to regain my composure.

"I'm so sorry, I never wanted to leave you, I can't imagine how hard it was..."

"Auntie Y/N/N... Please don't leave again... Everyone was so sad… Auntie Natty and Wands were crying all the time.. They tried to hide it, but I knew they were sad, because I was too." Morgan interrupts her,

"Wow, my lil baby is just so smart.. Smarter than her daddy, that's for sure." Y/N beams, and kisses her forehead.

"Mama says that too, she says I can run circles around daddy... I'm happy you're back, can we have a sleepover, please?" She lifts her head, and pouts at us adorably.

"How about this weekend? I'll come pick you up, and then we'll buy all the junk food possible, and we'll all watch movies together." I suggest, honestly wanting a night or two alone with Y/N first…

"Is Auntie Lena back too?" Morgan suddenly bolts up, and I look back to see Yelena's face brighten up.

"Why don't you turn around and see for yourself, moye malen'koye solnyshko."

Morgan quickly scrambles to the end of the bed, and practically jumps off , as Yelena prepares to catch her, and grips her into a tight embrace.

I reach down, and go to remove Wanda's arm from Y/N, so I can slip her out of bed, but Wanda swats my hand away and physically growls...

"Listen up Tigress, relinquish MY girlfriend, so I can actually hug her and also so she can receive nourishment." I command, groaning at Wanda’s overly clingy nature.

"Best friend trumps girlfriend." Wanda mockingly mumbles, as she tightens her hold on her.

"I won't hesitate to rip you apart, little witch." I seethe, no longer having the patience.

"Ladies!!! Calm down, I'm not going anywhere. Now, Wands, go hug your deprogrammed robot and enjoy your breakfast. You had me all night, it's only fair that it's Natty's turn."

Wanda concedes as soon as Y/N says to, and begrudgingly mopes her way over to Vision's sleeping form.

Y/N stands up, wobbling slightly but I catch her, and pulls her closer by her hips, and wrap my arms around her lower back to steady her.

"I love you, so very much my beautiful girl."

Y/N beams, as she settles into my embrace, and leans her face against my chest, and sighs.

"I love you so very much too, moya krasivaya angel..." I coo while holding her body close, and kissing her temple.

I gently sway us side to side, holding her head against my chest, and using my other hand to hold her body firmly against mine. She wraps her around my waist even tighter than before, and I feel like I’m on the verge of breaking down.

“You’re real?” I whimper in question, as I all but suffocate her with my hold.

“I’m real…” She confirms, as she places a gentle kiss to my collarbone, and I finally let go, not even caring that the room’s full of people.

—————————————

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wlwmarvelenthusiast · 3 years

Text

More Than A Friend

Summary: A weekend trip with Carol leads you to realize you might like her a little more than you'd thought.

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Reader

Warnings: language

Word Count: 6,194

You crept into the bar. It was a rowdy place, even this early in the evening. Your eyes scanned the crowd, taking in all the different people that were scattered throughout the room. The football game was playing on the TV, but unfortunately, it wasn't really your sport. Finally, your eyes landed on a blonde sitting at the bar. You moved toward her, a smirk on your face. You didn't even bother to slide into the seat next to her.

Your hand touched her hip and your lips were right next to her ear when you spoke. "What's a beautiful thing like you doing all alone here?"

She startled a little, whipping to face you. When she saw you, though, she smacked you away, an unamused expression taking over the surprised look she'd had a minute ago. You slid onto the stool next to her, eyes watching as the bartender held up a single finger to indicate he'd be over to you in a moment. You only nodded in acknowledgment before turning back to the girl beside you, the smirk still on your lips.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" She rolled her eyes.

"Come off it, Care-bear, you love me."

"Christ, I hate when you call me that."

"I apologize, oh Captain, my captain."

The bartender arrived and prevented her from retaliating. You didn't even bother looking back at her as you ordered your drink of choice, glancing up at the football game that you didn't care about in order to not look at Carol. She finally snorted and bumped her shoulder against yours. It made you look back at her, unable to keep a smile from forming on your face when she gave you a hearty wink. She laughed.

"How was work?"

You shrugged. "People are idiots."

When you were sixteen, you'd worked a retail job where you'd learned just how stupid people really were. You'd learned that fully-grown adults had nothing better in their lives to do than yell at teenaged, minimum wage workers during their spare time for nothing more than a minor inconvenience. When you'd become an Avenger, you thought that would stop. You were incorrect. You might not have been a teenaged retail worker anymore, but people found a reason to lose their temper anyway- even right after you'd saved their life.

"That good, huh?" She chuckled.

"Are people nicer on other planets, Care-bear? Take me with you?"

"They're not, no," Carol huffed, sipping from her glass. "And the drinks don't taste as good."

You wondered what she was drinking that she seemed to be enjoying so much. It was colourful, and had, at this point, piqued your interest. You reached out and snatched from where it sat in front of her on the bar. You sniffed it first. It was something fruity, that was all you could figure. Finally, you dared raise the glass to your lips. The second the liquid touched your tongue you felt like you might overdose on sugar and sweetness.

"Oh, my God, Carol!" You exclaimed, setting the drink back down on the bar top and sliding it to her. "What the hell is that?"

"She got it extra sweet," the bartender said as he walked by. "Your friend's got a sugar addiction."

It didn't seem to bother her at all. While you felt you could puke from the sugar content alone, she was sipping it happily. You rolled your eyes at her, reaching for your own drink, much preferring the taste of it. Carol turned to you suddenly, the straw still between her lips. You watched as she lowered it back down, using the same straw to stir the drink around, the ice clinking off the side of the glass as she did. She sipped it again.

"What's our weekend plans, then?" Carol asked finally.

"Who says I have plans with you?"

"Oh, please. You practically begged me to come stay on Earth for a weekend."

"I did absolutely no such thing."

You absolutely did do that. Carol was away from Earth more often than not and you missed her. It wasn't like it was a crime to. So, you'd phoned her up and asked her over and over to come spend just one weekend on Earth with you. She'd finally agreed on the eighth ask, and now here you sat; on the right of the girl you'd missed so dearly, teasing her relentlessly about whatever that abomination was swirling around in her glass.

"We're taking my new car on a little road trip," you finally gave, sipping your drink. "Music, fast-food, and deep talks on the interstate."

"Snacks?"

"Snacks too," you promised with a chuckle. "And we can get a nice motel room or pitch a tent at night. Whichever you please."

You had to laugh at the smile that had crept over her face. The way she giggled in excitement, you had to wonder if it'd just been too long since her last day off or if the alcohol had gotten to her already. She waved the bartender lever as she finished hers. He placed a new one in front of her, and she thanked him quickly, bringing it close and immediately bringing the straw between her lips. You wondered whether the sugar or alcohol content would hospitalize her quicker.

"So, when do we leave?" She chirped.

"In the morning. Don't drink too much. You'll get hungover and I want to actually have fun."

She stuck her tongue out at you. You rolled your eyes in response, finishing your own drink and then declining another. You didn't want to be hungover when you were the one driving the two of you around. The bartender brought you a pop instead. You sipped on it, watching a bar-goer stumbled over with a drunk grin on his face and tapped Carol on the shoulder. He said something you didn't quite hear, but you saw Carol nod. He took her hands and dragged her onto the dance floor. You brought her drink toward you.

Carol was a flirt. She always had been. She was a flirt with you, your teammates, and strangers. She was also gay. This dance with this guy didn't mean much to her. You weren't sure if it even meant much to him. You couldn't be sure that he'd even remember this dance. He was absolutely wasted, and it wasn't even midnight. Regardless, he seemed to be enjoying it. His eyes travelled up and down Carol's body and you squeezed the glass in your hand a little tighter. You were protective of her, despite knowing she could absolutely hold her own.

When the song finished, she winked at him, retreating back to your spot at the bar. She finished up her drink and then insisted the two of you head back to your place and that you were right: she didn't want to be nursing a hangover while you were supposed to be having a good time. You paid the bartender and then linked your arm with hers, leading her out the door and onto the streets. She glanced up at the tall buildings around her. A smile had formed on her face.

"You don't appreciate how beautiful this place is."

You glanced up at the glowing buildings that towered above you and marvelled, for a moment, at the soft light that radiated off them. Your gaze was tugged downward, though, at a rustling noise. You were snapped back into the reality of your city as you watched a rat scurry along the curb of the sidewalk in the direction opposite you. You chuckled at that, motioning to it as you looked up to catch Carol's bright gaze.

"Surely some of those planets are far more beautiful than this."

She shrugged. "Some, maybe. Some are worse. Some are kind of alike to this. This has always been my favourite, though."

You might have understood that if Carol had taken the time to visit the actual beautiful parts of the Earth. But she was always in the city. She'd never gone to stare in amazement at a waterfall or glance at towering mountains. She had never seen the true beauties of this Earth, and you promised in that moment to change that fact. If she thought New York City was beautiful, she would be blown off her feet by the things you showed her.

"One day, Carol, I'll show you the actual beautiful things on this Earth."

"You're pretty beautiful yourself."

You smacked her. That was her flirty side coming out once again. It didn't mean anything. It never had. So, you wondered what that strange flutter in your chest was when she said the words. You ignored it, passing it off as a longing for a meaningful relationship. You hadn't had one of those in a while now. You probably just wanted someone to say those words to you and mean it. You made a mental note to sign up for an online dating site after the weekend had passed. It was too hard to meet people in your line of work without them.

"Yeah, I know," was all you gave in response.

When you glanced over at her, she had a grin on her face.

It wasn't long until you'd reached your apartment building. You smiled at the front desk as you entered the lobby and immediately made for the elevator. You pressed the button to the seventh floor and waited patiently for the doors. You knew Carol was suppressing a squeal of glee when they arrived. She usually just flew everywhere. Using simple inventions like this one had always gotten her more excited than the average person. To anyone else, an elevator was just a boring elevator.

"Can I do it?" She asked as you pulled out your key.

Carol really was just like a child, in a sense. Everything was so advanced out in space that these were the things she enjoyed doing. You pointed out the bronze key and watched her run ahead. She practically skipped the distance to your apartment door. She pushed the key into the lock and turned it, glancing back at you and smiling widely when the door pushed open. You smiled affectionately as you took the key back from her.

She may not have visited Earth overly often, but every time she did, she visited your apartment. Resultantly, she knew her way around. She knew, as well, that you didn't mind in the slightest if she made herself at home. She slid her shoes off and jumped onto the couch, pulling the blanket down over top of her and snuggling into it. You actually took a photo of the sight before you moved into the room behind her, lifting her legs, sitting on the couch, and then dropping them back over your lap.

"Can we watch a movie?" Carol asked, pleading gaze turning to you.

You showed her the remote you'd been reaching for. "Already on it, Captain Danvers."

"I take it back," she giggled, tossing her head back so that it hit the armrest. "That's worse. You can call me-"

"Aw, my Care-Bear!" You laughed, shifting your position so you could throw your arms around her shoulders.

Carol grunted at the impact against her torso. Once you settled, though, she breathed a little easier. You were both squished against one side of the couch, now, but the closeness was nothing new to you. You still had the remote in hand, and aimed it at the TV, managing to get it to Netflix. You flicked on a random horror movie, setting the remote back down on the coffee table in front of you. You nestled back into the cushions.

It had always amused you how jumpy Carol got when she watched horror movies. She was a literal superhero that fought literal aliens all the night and day and yet a ghost jumping out of a darkened corridor had her cringing away from the TV screen and pulling the blanket further up her body as if in an attempt to protect her. She would always adamantly deny it if you ever brought it up later. You would never show her the picture you had of her, fuzzy blue blanket pulled all the way up to her nose, eyes wide, as she watched The Conjuring. She would delete it off your phone as you slept.

Today, though, her nerves seemed to be calmed somewhat by the cup of tea she had clasped between her hands. She looked entirely content, sitting cross-legged on the couch with that same fuzzy blanket draped over her lap and a grey, ceramic mug warming her palms. The alcohol had clearly gotten to her a little, you realized, as you watched her eyelids droop every once in a while. The corner of your mouth tilted upward ever so slightly. She was wide awake a moment later.

It was a sudden jump scare. Even being half asleep, Carol was still paying attention. So, when the TV boomed and there was a flash and a scream, she jumped. The tea that she'd been holding in her lap sloshed over the edges, a large amount of liquid soaking into the couch cushions. You were out of your seat in an instant, reaching for the remote to pause. Carol was apologizing profusely, jumping to her feet and following you to the kitchen.

"It's okay, Carol. It's fine," you chuckled, wetting a dish towel and grabbing some paper towels. "Hey, it's fine. Really. Chill out."

Carol seemed hesitant to do that. When you lightheartedly flicked the wet towel at her, though, she finally smiled taking the paper towel out of your hand and heading back to the living room, pressing the paper towel into the couch and absorbing as much of the liquid as she could. When she'd finished, you used the wet rag to clean the beverage out. As you tossed the paper towel away and threw the dishrag into the kitchen sink, you stood back and took a look at the large wet spot on the couch.

"Guess we're moving to my room, then. Let's go, Care-Bear."

Carol nodded. She trod behind you into the bedroom, where you flopped onto the bed. She was lagging behind and you waved her onward to hurry her up. She finally jumped onto the bed and sat next to you, sliding her legs underneath the covers. You turned on the small TV in your room and resumed the movie you'd been watching. In the soft comfort of the bed, though, it seemed the tug for sleep was greater. Carol's eyes finally fluttered shut and she lay down against the pillows. You chuckled, turning off the movie.

You, unlike your friend, hadn't fallen asleep involuntary. You were able to head to the bathroom and brush your teeth before yawning tiredly and deciding to join. You padded back into the room, climbed under the covers, shut off the lights, and lay your head onto your own pillow. You smiled once at Carol's sleeping figure before you shut your eyes, letting sleep take you.

As hard as you tried to convince her, you weren't able to get Carol to stick her head back inside the sunroof. You weren't sure how to breeze was so exhilarating to her. The superhuman could fly faster than your car was going right now. The wind in her hair had to be a familiar feeling at this point. Plus, there were no laws against flying above the interstate to feel the wind in your hair. There were, however, laws about standing with your entire torso stuck out the roof of the car.

You'd given up a while ago. If she fell out, she'd be just fine. If she got you a ticket? Oh, there would be serious hell to pay. She'd agreed to that already. You'd honestly be surprised, though, if she did get ticketed. It'd be quite a sight to see: a measly police officer ticketing the Human-Kree Hybrid superhero. That sight alone might actually be worth the fine you would have to pay. By the time she'd pulled her head back in, though, blonde hair windblown and a smile plastered to her face, you'd yet to see a single cop.

"Have fun?" You asked, doing up the sunroof.

"Absolutely. You should try."

"Do you know how to drive?" You scoffed.

"I can fly a ship."

"Yeah, I'm sure UFO controls are much different than cars so I'm gonna have to politely ask you to stay the hell away from my car."

Carol only stuck her tongue out at you. She still didn't do her seatbelt up yet. She twisted her body so that she could reach into the back seat. You turned back to the road, but when you shot a second glance at her a few seconds later, she was popping open a can of Pringles with a large grin on her face. She bit down onto a chip with a giggle before turning the can to you. You reached into it with one hand and took a small handful of them, setting them down on the centre console for easier access.

"Where are we staying tonight?" Carol asked through a mouthful of chips.

"A campground up in a small town in Ontario," you hummed. "It's still a good few hours away. I'd ask if you wanted to stop for food, but I'd guess you've filled up on snacks."

She dug through her backpack. "Do I need this?"

She held up the passport you'd made her get last time the two of you had headed up to Toronto. Despite the fact that she really wasn't a citizen of the United States... or even of Earth, you'd managed to get S.H.I.E.L.D. to make you an exception for Carol. It was the perks of being an Avenger, and a close friend of Nick Fury, you supposed. To answer her question, you simply nodded your head as you reached for the Gatorade in your cup holder. She stuck the papers back into her bag.

"So, are you seeing anyone?"

The question almost made you spit the red beverage onto the steering wheel. It wasn't that you and Carol had never talked about it. She was one of your closest friends, after all. She was the first one you'd called when you'd realized your feelings for your last girlfriend, and she was the first one you'd called when you'd broken up. Carol wasn't someone you didn't talk about your love life with. It was just that it was completely and entirely out of the blue. It didn't help that the answer was still no, even after the long period of time since she'd last asked it.

You'd tried to assure yourself that you were just busy with work. It wasn't a lie. You'd been busy as hell ever since Loki's sceptre had inexplicably gone missing after the Battle in New York. But it wasn't just that, you knew full well. Something seemed to be wrong with your brain, or maybe your heart. Maybe it was just that your standards were practically in the clouds, but no one seemed attractive to you anymore. Not even the girl Natasha had tried to set you up with (and you were well convinced that Natasha only knew attractive people).

"Not at the moment, no," you finally admitted. "You?"

"On-and-off," she shrugged. "Just a girl from a planet called Xandar."

A pang of jealousy struck your chest. You were carving something- anything. You would've given anything even for something on-and-off just about now. Had it really been that long? You could hardly believe you were jealous of her. It wasn't like you to be jealous of something someone else had. You were supposed to be happy for her, not sulking over your own lack of a love life... or sex life. You forced a smile at her, wishing it could be real.

"Oh, yeah? Tell me about her."

"Not too much to tell," Carol said, biting down on a potato chip. "She's cute, funny, sweet. A little younger than me, but most people are," she chuckled as she glanced over at you. You plastered a phone smile back onto your lips and forced a laugh from your chest. "Her name's Alya."

You almost grumbled, but managed to bite your tongue on time. You resorted to ripping open a packet of gummy bears in order to keep your mouth full and therefore unable to make any snarky comments. Carol didn't seem to notice that, only reaching over and grabbing a green bear out of the bag. Though you might have been a little frustrated, you let her. It wasn't her fault that you were touch-starved and desperate.

"You know, we could spend this trip trying to find you a girlfriend," Carol grinned, tossing a candy into the air and catching it in her mouth.

"No," you denied immediately. You didn't need for her to see how weird your head was being right now. You were certain there was no one she could find that would be able to snap you out of this strange state of no one being attractive to you, yet craving someone. "I'm not looking for a girlfriend in Ontario."

"What's wrong with girls from Ontario?" Carol teased.

She'd been to Ontario once before. She'd pointed out that, though they may have dressed a little different and talked a little different, the girls from Ontario were just as attractive as the girls from New York. You'd had to point out that, at the time, she'd had a girlfriend. With Carol's ogling at girls on Earth, clearly, she and the girlfriend hadn't been working out well. They'd broken up two weeks later, leaving them both a little hurt, but not beyond repair. Even still, they saw each other for lunch or for a drink, but just as friends. It was admirable; the respect they had retained for one another.

"Nothing is wrong with girls from Ontario," you huffed. "I'm just not in the mood. This is supposed to be our weekend."

"What if I want to spend our weekend finding you a girl?"

"I don't. Drop it," you finally snapped.

Immediately guilt rushed to settle in the pit of your stomach. You readjusted your grip on the steering wheel as your gaze refused to leave the road in front of you. You didn't want to glance over at the frown that had surely taken the place of that infectious smile you loved so dearly. You definitely didn't want to look at it knowing that you were the cause of it. Carol was so incredibly joyful all the time and that was one of the things you loved about her. To be the one who had taken that joy from her, even momentarily, broke your heart.

"I'm sorry," you muttered.

She didn't answer that.

You attempted to swallow the lump in your throat as you tried to focus on driving instead of picturing the frown that was probably tugging at each of Carol's features. You wished you could actually physically kick yourself for what you'd done. She didn't deserve you snapping at her like that. She hadn't done anything wrong. You were just being pissy for reasons you weren't sure even you quite understood. You finally turned to her, but she was looking out the window.

"Look, Carol-"

"Hey, don't worry. Sorry I pushed."

You didn't deserve Carol Susan Jane Danvers one single bit. She deserved more than the world and you swore right then you'd work every moment to give that to her. Despite how you'd treated her for reasons she couldn't possibly have understood, when she turned to you, she was still smiling. As always, her smile put a smile on your face too. You turned away from those soft brown eyes to glance back at the road in front of you.

"It's okay. I'm sorry I snapped. I just... it's a long story, Care-Bear."

"We've got a long ride ahead of us," she tried.

"I don't know that I'm feeling like talking about it right this second," you admitted.

She seemed to accept that. You felt her touch your arm with her hand. Warmth seemed to rush from her touch, up your arms, and into your chest. How one person could instill such comfort into you amazed you. She said a few soft words to you that you didn't quite hear, but you felt you might not need to. You knew they were words of comfort. Just that knowledge was enough to put a smile onto your face. Your eyes flickered from her to the road.

"No problem," Carol chimed. Then, without missing a single beat, she changed the subject. "Hey, which bag did you put the Fuzzy Peaches in?"

"The green backpack."

Just like that, it was easy again. Carol didn't let you linger on just how upset you were for more than a second. She practically dived into the back seat for the backpack, reappearing with the orange package in her hand. She plopped back down into her seat, still refused to put her seatbelt on, and ripped the package open. She reached out and turned up the music when one of your favourite songs came on. You wondered if she knew that.

"No! That piece goes over here!" You insisted.

Carol frowned and handed you the long pole.

Pitching a tent with an alien who hadn't even known was a tent was, up until five minutes ago, was not easy. She'd practically rolled herself up like a burrito in the rain fly right after nearly putting the stakes directly through the floor to pin the tent down. You'd been guiding her, preventing any damage from coming to it. She was listening intently, making sure she did everything exactly how you said. She stuck the peg through the guy line and looked at you.

"Like that?"

"Yeah. Perfect. I think we're just about done, Care-Bear."

At that, she unzipped the door, diving through it into the empty tent. You reached into the trunk of your car, throwing the many pillows, blankets, and sleeping bags through behind her, not caring much where they landed. When you finally shut the door and ducked into the tent, Carol was beneath the large pile, peering out from where only the top half of her face was visible. You had to chuckle, grabbing one of the blankets and pulling it over her face.

Carol insisted she set up. She had you sit aside by the door, munching happily on a small bowl of popcorn as you watched. She carefully unzipped the sleeping bags and lay them down on the floor, putting the pillows atop them, and then the two comforters stacked on top of each other on top of that. When she finally finished, she gestured proudly to her completed setup. You raised an eyebrow.

"We both sleeping there?"

She nodded. "It's cold."

You had to give her that. You were practically shivering just from waiting for her to finish. The sun had dipped beyond the horizon at this point, the darkness of night did nothing to heat up the air around you. You clambered under the blankets, careful not to drop any of the popcorn you still held. You placed it next to you, letting Carol reach over and grab some as she, too, climbed into the makeshift bed. She popped a piece into her mouth.

"Up to talking about it yet?"

It was a genuine question. Carol wasn't pushy. That was something you could tell by her tone. She had waited patiently and was continuing to wait for you to be ready to talk about what you needed to talk about. She didn't want you bottling it up, but she didn't want to pressure you. She was able to do that. You glanced down at the red blanket that covered your legs, pondering her question for a moment. Then you nodded your head yes.

"I just haven't felt myself recently," you shrugged. "I would like to get out there and find someone, no doubt. Recently, though, it's like my standards are unmeetable. No one seems even remotely appealing to me."

"No one at all?"

"Nat tried to set me up with her Russian model friend," you said, turning to Carol with a grin finally on your lips.

"Nothing?" Carol said, an exaggerated amount of shock on her face. "You must be broken."

You shoved her. She chuckled; the offensive action having done nothing. She was inhumanly strong. If you'd decided to punch her, you likely would've broken your hand against her. She shoved you back, only lightly, so you moved a few inches away from her. She stuck her hand back into the popcorn bowl as you shuffled back into your place beside her. She was chewing thoughtfully, and you didn't dare interrupt her with the very focused expression on her face.

"Do you already like someone? That usually takes away the appeal of anyone else."

You stopped to think about that. You knew that could be the case. In eleventh grade when you'd had a crush on Adelaide Artenbaker, you'd suddenly failed to find anyone else attractive at all. Of course, Adelaide had eventually rejected you on account that she was straight as an arrow. It wasn't malicious. She'd actually given you a kiss on the cheek and assured you that, if she discovered wasn't, she'd let you know. It had made you laugh.

Now, you had to wonder if there was anyone that was making your stomach flip and making you dismiss anyone else. It wasn't the Avengers. You'd been in the changing room with Natasha, the Black fucking Widow, two days ago, and she'd strutted up to you in nothing but her bra and underwear. You hadn't even bat an eyelash as she'd asked you if you wanted to get some Chinese food after the mission (but you had said yes, of course).

"Yeah. Maybe."

Her words had knocked some serious sense into you. You definitely had a crush on someone, and it had definitely been impairing your ability to get out on a date. That someone was around so little, though, that you hadn't realized right away just how you felt for them. Maybe if she visited Earth a little more often, you'd have realized why you blushed so deeply when she'd crawled into bed with you last night or right now.

"Who is it, then?"

Carol had a girlfriend. It may have been on-again-off-again, but she had a girlfriend. You were not now, nor ever, someone who would come between that. You were going to let her be happy with someone who was making her happy and you were going to be happy for her. You plastered a smile onto your face and reached into the bowl of popcorn that sat on your lap, letting the snack cloud the feelings of jealousy that you knew now weren't jealousy of a relationship, but if Carol.

"Nat."

Carol didn't miss a single beat. "Liar."

You glared at her. "The fuck do you mean? Telling me who I do and do not like?"

"I know who has your heart right now. It isn't Nat."

This time when she reached for the popcorn, she leaned over. To support her weight, her hand came to rest on your upper thigh. You had to refrain from reacting. You sucked the inside of your cheek between your teeth, biting hard on it to suppress any sort of reaction that Carol would have noticed. It seemed to have worked. She grabbed a small handful and then backed away, the pressure of her hand disappearing from your limb.

"Yeah? Who is it, then?"

"Someone that likes you back."

"And who says Nat doesn't?"

You might have actually been offended if it weren't Carol you were talking to. You were good enough for Natasha, right? She was practically a goddess in respect to her looks, but you were something, too. Not that you liked Natasha in that way. She was a friend. Carol was the one that you cared about. Something about that sweet smile and that confidence mixed with an innocence she had after being away from Earth for so long warmed your heart every time.

"Fair," Carol admitted. "But you know, you're pretty oblivious. With all the hints I've been dropping, you'd think you'd have realized your feelings are reciprocated."

"What?"

"I like you, dumbass. More than a friend likes a friend."

Your jaw might have dropped. You coughed, choking on the popcorn that you'd been eating as you whirled to face the blonde. She had a twinkle in her eyes, and a giggle escaped her lips when she saw the expression on your face. She tossed a piece of popcorn into the air, catching it in her mouth. She chewed on it as she waited, arms crossed, for you to collect yourself. Finally, after a long drink of water, you calmed.

"Pardon?"

"You're an idiot," she mumbled.

Then she grabbed the front of your shirt and pulled you closer. You didn't fail to notice, as your lips moved against hers, that she moved the popcorn bowl so that it wouldn't spill. It seemed completely unimportant, though. You felt everything starting to melt away into Carol Danvers. Her lips were talented and kissing her felt like an intricate sport and suddenly you needed to breathe. When you pushed away, you realized what you'd done wrong.

Her feelings to you didn't matter. She had a girlfriend. Unless that fact changed, she and you didn't get to be more than your friend. You pushed her even further away. You knew she had the ability to, but she didn't resist. You backed off a little further so that your bodies were completely separated. Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion, but she didn't push. She even waited for you to speak first. Your eyes wouldn't meet hers.

"You have a girlfriend."

"I just said that to make you jealous," she scoffed.

You immediately got defensive. "I was not jealous."

"You were so!"

"Shut up."

She did. You suspected the only reason she had shut up was because she was kissing you again. It didn't matter. You were on cloud nine. You felt right again. You felt more right now than you ever had. Carol was exactly what you had needed for longer than you could figure out right then. She was clouding your thoughts and, honestly, you couldn't have cared less. You didn't want to think about anything besides how good her lips felt on yours right then.

You couldn't even find it in yourself to be mad at her for the little stunt she had pulled. You could only be glad that this so-called girlfriend wasn't actually real, and was just a part of her stupid plan. Without the girlfriend, you were free to kiss her as much as she would let you. Judging by how she was kissing you now, she wasn't going to stop you anytime soon. Her teeth grazed your bottom lip as she pulled away, not moving more than an inch from your lips, though.

The hand that clasped your shirt uncurled. She pressed her hand flat against the centre of your chest, pushing you onto your back. You had to chuckle as her knees pressed into the ground on either side of your waist. She kissed your nose once, scowling at the laughs that were beginning to bubble from your chest. You leaned up and kissed her lips for a brief moment, before using a hand to caress her cheek and tuck her hair behind her ear.

"What are you laughing at?"

"Nothing. You were right," you stated. "I'm kinda glad you were right."

"You're kind of glad? Can you imagine how stupid I'd have looked if I were wrong?" Carol laughed.

"Quite," you agreed with a nod.

You pulled her down next to you, wrapping your arms around her and feeling hers do the same to you. You pressed your forehead against hers, taking the time to admire her smiling face. She giggled a little, pecking your lips quickly. She didn't linger, though, having been preoccupied in reaching over your shoulder into the bowl of popcorn once more. She shoved a few pieces into her mouth and chewed happily.

"Care-Bear, what's more important: me or snacks?"

"You are a snack."

You gaped. "How the hell did you learn that term?"

She shrugged. "I hear things."

You rolled your eyes, pushing her away from you. She let you, reaching for her water bottle to wash down some of the salty flavour that had come off the popcorn. She offered you some water, which you accepted. When you finished and handed the bottle back to her, she pulled you close to her. Your body moved until it was flush against hers. Her torso was so warm you could've fallen asleep right then and there.

"You're more important."

Being more important than snacks, in the opinion of Carol Danvers, was just about the highest compliment you could have received.

#carol danvers #captain marvel #carol danvers fanfiction #carol danvers x reader #mcu #marvel #wlw #lesbian

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starlessea · 3 years

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Here Comes the Sun: XX. More Than A Feeling (Daryl Dixon/Reader)

Series Masterlist: Here Comes the Sun

Summary: Daryl Dixon scares the hell out of you climbing out of that damn creek. It takes hauling his ass halfway across Georgia and taking a bullet for him to realise that you're not half bad. He slowly starts to come around, despite grumbling about how much he doesn't like your singing, or that you can't use a gun for shit - and don't get him started on that ugly yellow tent of yours. It takes him a while before he starts to see for himself that he's found a best friend for life, and that he doesn't actually mind the colour yellow that much, after all.

Words: 6480

Chapter Warnings: Language, Violence, Injury.

Your head pounded like an alarm clock you couldn't shut off. The explosions hadn't done any favours for your tinnitus, either. The high-pitched ringing noise was constant, and only intensified the more you tried not to focus on it. Even now that everything had settled down, it still seemed like you could hear walls crashing around you, or feel the vibrations as the stone crumbled and settled at your feet.

Except, it wasn't brick walls that were sending shock waves over the ground; it was Daryl's footsteps as he paced. You could feel them through your own boots, and sent him a look to try and coax him to sit down.

"It's a sprained ankle, Daryl. I didn't lose my leg." You said gently, before someone cleared their throat.

You looked down at Hershel, who was in the process of wrapping the bandages, and winced as he raised an eyebrow at you.

"Sorry." You muttered, awkwardly.

Everything had gone mostly to plan. The governor and his men had been driven away, and the others had returned from Woodberry with even more survivors. You hadn't gotten the chance to see them yet, but the ruckus drifted up the stairs and you could feel the marching of the stampede as though they had been part of the army themselves.

The prison remained standing, albeit missing a watchtower and seeming a bit dilapidated in a few places - but your home was once again yours. You'd sacrificed so much for it. Lori, T-Dogg, Axel, Oscar, and Merle had all lost their lives just so that you could sit here now, complaining of flesh-wounds and mild injuries like they were the most perilous problems you could face.

Daryl didn't seem to agree, however, and narrowed his eyes at you - or more specifically, at the bandage wrapped around your head. You'd taken a bit of a fall, but it wasn't like you'd cracked it open. Though, that didn't stop the man from treating you like Humpty Dumpty - trying to fix all of your pieces despite them not actually being broken.

"I don' care!" Daryl yelled, and you felt Hershel flinch as he made another pass with the bandages.

The man slung his crossbow onto the mattress, and you felt the bed dip beside you from the weight of it. His face was all scrunched up into a scowl, and you wanted nothing more than to hold it in your hands and bring his cheek to yours.

"What the hell d'ya try an' pull tha' for?" He asked, but this time his voice had lost its fight. "You could've gotten yerself killed." Daryl said quietly, like it almost killed him to say, too.

The older man stayed silent as he continued to do his job, and you felt guilty for having let him get caught up in this.

"But I didn't." You reminded Daryl, before shooting a light-hearted smile his way. "Certain victory, remember?"

Your eyes glanced down to his hand, and at the shoddily drawn rune you'd given him with a sharpie earlier in the day. He didn't say anything back, but his pacing had stopped - and he looked straight at you as you spoke.

"And although the governor got away, don't you think he'll be easier to find with a bullet in his shoulder?"

If you had anything to show for your injuries, at least it was that. You offered a teasing smirk to the man - one that probably made him wonder if you had a concussion.

"I think I know a pretty good tracker, too." You joked, nodding in his direction.

Daryl didn't smile back. You watched as the man took a seat next to you on the mattress, and noticed the way his eyes rested on Hershel as he tended to your injuries better than he could have.

"Ya should've followed the plan." He mumbled, so quietly that you barely caught it.

You let out a sigh, unable to hide your guilt. Daryl had an expression you'd only seen him wear once before, and you didn't like it in the slightest.

"I had a clear shot." You reasoned timidly, like you were trying to convince yourself of your words.

You had done; it was true. Except, you should have taken a moment to consider your actions. You thought that you were in fact the hypocrite - since when the time came, you'd been the one to shoot first, and ask questions later.

"If my aim was a little better we wouldn't even be having this conversation." You told him, and offered a sheepish smile alongside it. "I'm sorry I missed."

Hershel tightened the knot as he finished wrapping your foot. You lifted your leg and outstretched it to examine his work. Tentatively, you wiggled your toes, and thanked the man when you felt no pain in doing so. Daryl sent a nod in his direction too, before turning back.

"I don' give a damn if ya missed." He told you, barely above a whisper.

Hershel ushered himself out of the room as quietly as he could manage, trying not to intrude any longer. As soon as he'd left, Daryl let his head drop onto your shoulder, and you could feel his warm breath over the crook of your neck.

"I only care tha' yer alive." He admitted, mumbling against the skin there. "I can't lose you, too."

You leant back against the man. He seemed so downtrodden, but for the first time since the farm, you felt safe. You remembered that first night after you'd cleared the prison, sitting out in that field around the campfire. You'd asked him then if he thought this could be your home. Now, you decided, it was.

"Have more faith in me, Dixon." You told him, and stroked his hair - letting your nails run along his scalp gently. "I think I must be pretty hard to kill."

Despite the head injury, the events of that morning were as clear as day to you - as clear as the cloudless sky had been when you all took your positions. The strategy had been to ambush them when they came, and you had been the one to dissuade Rick from utilising the watchtowers.

"They'll be their first target." You'd said, and luckily he had listened.

You and Daryl had been checking the guns, before deciding to take one last walk around the perimeter. You'd scouted their vehicles en route to the prison, so you knew it was only a matter of time before all hell would break loose. The day was otherwise serene, and you hoped that once all of this was over you'd get the chance to revel in the sunshine and celebrate your certain victory.

You smiled over at the man, remembering what you'd wanted to tell him. The two of you were checking for breaches in the fences, making sure that the governor's men couldn't infiltrate from anywhere you wouldn't expect. You watched as Daryl pulled on the lattice wire to make sure it was secure, and you slipped your hand into his other, free one.

He gave you a subtle glance, but didn't make any sarcastic remarks in return. The two of you walked hand-in-hand alongside the fences, as though you were going on a mundane, morning stroll in the sun. It was silent, and you both seemed to just bask in the peace whilst it still lasted. Though, once you had gone full-circle, and had ended up back where you'd started, you stopped in place.

You fished around in your pocket and pulled out the sharpie you'd scavenged from Glenn earlier in the day. Daryl looked at it suspiciously, but let you do as you pleased - just like always. Carol had noted how much of a soft spot the man had for you, and you couldn't even deny it at this point. The two of you had woken up entangled in each other this morning, and it had taken you the better part of half an hour to coax him to let you get up. You could tell he was scared of what the day would bring. Despite claiming to be a man 'not scared of nothing,' you knew that Daryl Dixon was afraid of one thing above all else - and that was losing you.

"Give me your hand." You instructed, and pulled the cap off the top of the pen with your teeth.

The man eyed the permanent marker, before looking down at your interlocked hands.

"Yer holdin' it." He grumbled, and you rolled his eyes at his dry humour.

"The other one." You clarified, pointing in the direction. "It needs to be on the same side."

You took his hand in yours before he had time to question you further, and pressed the sharpie to it. You drew the simple pattern, watching as the ink bled out slightly over the cracks in his skin.

It was the same rune of Týr that you had tattooed on your hip - the one Daryl claimed 'looked like an arrow.' He stared at it once you'd finished, stretching out his fingers before balling his hand into a fist. Maybe it was a little childish to want to wish him luck in this way, and you thought that Daryl was a man quite capable of victory by himself, but you'd wanted to do it nonetheless.

"Look, we match." You exclaimed with a smile, but the words felt familiar on your tongue.

Daryl must have thought so, too, as you saw some kind of recognition flash behind his eyes. Then, you remembered it. The memory washed over you like a wave coming onto shore. It had been back on the farm, where you lay next to each other on that springy, double bed. He'd had an arrow wound in his side, and your bullet hole matched it nicely. You'd pointed it out to him with a grin, too doped up on medication for your own good. It felt so long ago - back when you'd been more young and naive to the world, and he'd been more angry at it.

"I guess some things never change." You admitted, and you could tell that he understood.

You felt him squeeze your hand, and looked back down at the semi-tattoo you'd drawn haphazardly.

"An' other things do." He replied.

When the first explosion rang out, your mind immediately thought back to that moment. The front left watchtower had been decimated, just as you had predicted, and the tanks began to roll in through the field. Whilst some of the group were hidden away in the prison interior, waiting to ambush those who came in, you stayed outside with Maggie and Glenn - ready to catch any stragglers who made it back out.

Daryl hadn't wanted you to be in the thick of it, and you could tell why. From the looks of it, the governor's army was partially made of toy soldiers. From your position, you could make out young boys and girls barely through their teenage years, and adults who looked like they had never held a weapon before. You would have found it hard to kill them - even if you needed to.

From your hiding place, however, you couldn't see the governor. The group was too dense, and he was probably lurking somewhere in the middle - just like the coward he was. You stared down the scope of your rifle, trying to get a better view. All around you, you could hear the sounds of crumbling stone, and the flicker of flames as they burned the tower to the ground. There had only been a couple of warning rounds shot at the building, but they'd done more damage than you were comfortable with. You just hoped that Daryl and the others were alright inside.

The whole thing seemed to last a couple of minutes at most. As quickly as the group had entered the cellblock, they were forced back out in a shroud of smoke and gunfire. Maggie and Glenn had their guns aimed, but it looked to be a clean retreat. The govenor's makeshift suicide army had all turned back, and were fleeing into the forest - so you didn't shoot at them.

That had been the plan anyway, until you caught sight of a familiar eyepatch and the man who wore it. You jumped up from behind the bushes like someone had set them alight, and ran over to the wall for cover. Maggie and Glenn shouted at you, but you continued until you reached it. It was part of the fence you'd reinforced with steel, and you ducked behind it to peer through the gunhole.

The man was returning back to the tank, mowing down anyone who got in his way. You stared through your rifle scope, finger hovering the trigger. You would have pulled it, but a civilian got in your line of sight at the last second.

"Shit." You whispered, below your breath, and slung the rifle back over your shoulder.

You hopped the fence and started running, making your way to the blazing watchtower that was set alight like a torch. The base was still steady, and it provided good cover whilst allowing you to move in closer. The calm summer's day had been transformed into a warzone in a matter of minutes. Shouts and gunfire rang out around you as you dashed to the burning building. When you reached it, you quickly ducked down and pressed your back to the stone as you set up your rifle.

It hasn't been part of the plan; you knew that. Though, you didn't just want to let the man walk free, either. If you weren't the one to do it, it would be someone else - perhaps Rick, or Michonne, or even Daryl. You wanted to pull your weight, especially if it meant that their shoulders wouldn't have to bear the burden of it.

The tower creaked and groaned above your head, and your eyes quickly glanced upwards to catch sight of the flames that licked the sky - creating an amber haze that resembled sunset. You ignored the sound, and locked onto the governor once again. This time, he was clambering into the vehicle, and you knew that it would be your last chance. Your line of sight was clear, and so you let your finger squeeze the trigger - and felt the jolt of the gun as it hit back against your shoulder.

The bullet connected, and you watched the man stagger backwards. He turned to face your direction, and your gazes caught for a split second - like you could see it all unfold in slow motion. Then, you heard a crash, and time resumed as normal.

Glass shattered above your head and fell onto you like jagged raindrops, and the stone debrid came following like lightning after it. The tower shifted, and you watched it crumble for a brief moment before the adrenaline kicked in. You abandoned your rifle and jumped up, starting to run in the opposite direction. Rubble came pouring down and bounced over the concrete at your feet. You felt small pieces nick your legs, but continued to sprint as you heard Maggie and Glenn call your name in the distance. You couldn't outrun the collapse, but you'd managed to dive behind one of the fences just in time to shield yourself.

You'd squeezed your eyes closed as the tower fell, and huddled your knees to your chest to protect yourself. The stone structure made the most almighty crash as it caved to the ground, and suddenly the courtyard was completely shrouded in dust. It wasn't until the smoke cloud had settled and you recognised figures emerging from the fog that you realised you'd made it.

Your head stung, and you pressed your fingers to your temple only to notice that something had drawn blood there. You must've been struck by some stray piece of rubble, you thought. You were a bit dazed, but you could make out voices clearly as they shouted your name. You recognised one in particular, and your heart sped up in response.

"C'mon, Teach!" Daryl yelled, but you couldn't pin-point where from.

You tried to call back, but your throat was dry and your voice barely made its way out of your lips.

"Can ya hear me?" He shouted again. "Call out to me if ya can hear me!"

Clearing your throat, you tried again.

"Daryl!" You screamed, and this time it resonated. "I'm here!"

You noticed a shift in the fog, and figures got clearer as they made their way through it.

"I'm over here!" You yelled again, your voice breaking over the words.

The man came running over to you as soon as he could tell where you were. You'd been hidden behind the sheet of metal, sat amongst a pile of debrid, but he still found you. You could feel the fresh blood trickling down your forehead, but you wiped it away with the back of your hand and sent him a watery smile of pure relief. Daryl took in the sight, and the way your foot seemed to be turned in an awkward angle beneath you - and his eyes widened.

"What did you do?" He asked, rushing over to your side in an instant.

You looked back at him with an equally dumbfounded expression.

"I shot him." You admitted. "I shot the governor."

After Hershel had left your cell, you and Daryl stayed sitting on the mattress together for a little while. You let him rest his head over your shoulder, which soon turned into lying on your chest as you both slumped back into the pillows. It was a little different from what you were used to, but you held his head and stroked his hair gently. You thought that he needed the comfort, and you were fine with being able to return it for once.

Maggie and Glenn had informed you that they'd seen everything go down - and that you'd actually hit the governor in the shoulder, rather than his chest. It was a bitter disappointment, but they'd reassured you that you'd still done a good job - after they'd given you a scolding, that is. You weren't entirely sure what had possessed you to do it - to abandon the plan. Maybe it was the images of a beaten Glenn and an inconsolable Maggie that you weren't able to rid yourself of, or perhaps it was the nightmares you had of cowering beneath Axel's body. More likely, it was the recent death of Merle, and what it had done to Daryl as a result. Whatever it was, you didn't regret it. The governor had deserved everything that was coming for him, and you'd just happened to be the one to pass the sentence.

Daryl's eyelids seemed heavy, and his breathing had evened out. You knew that if you didn't rouse him now, he'd probably fall asleep within a matter of minutes. It was selfish, but you didn't want that. You wanted to celebrate your victory - no matter how certain it had been.

"I'm sorry, Daryl." You whispered, and gently moved his hair back from his face.

The man inhaled sharply, and you watched his eyes flicker as they adjusted to the light. You let out a soft chuckle, which you were sure he could feel resonate through your chest.

"Can you help me down the stairs?" You asked sweetly, hoping to coax him awake. "I want to meet everyone."

He'd already carried you out of the rubble once today, but you hoped he'd be generous enough to lend you an arm as you hobbled down the metal steps. Daryl sat up and stretched his neck side to side before glancing over at you, his eyes immediately resting over your bandaged forehead to check it was still alright. You offered a smile to reassure him, and eventually the man nodded in return.

"It's gonna get a lot nosier 'round 'ere." He grumbled, but it didn't sound like he really minded.

Daryl had your arm slung over his shoulder as you both attempted the stairs. His other hand was on your waist for support, and he waited patiently as you took each step - going along with your pace. You'd heard the commotion from your cell, but nothing could have prepared you for the sheer amount of people that had been brought back from Woodberry.

As your foot hit the final step you were greeted by an unexpected round of applause, interspersed with the occasional cheers. You almost stumbled back in shock, but Daryl caught your arm before you could trip.

"There she is!" Glenn yelled over the crowd. "Our suicidal sniper."

You shot Daryl a side-eye glance, but the man just shrugged in response. Your gaze ran over the unfamiliar faces as they smiled, or looked at you curiously, and you suddenly felt inadequate in comparison. You stood leaning against Daryl in your dusty clothes and bandages, and sheepishly lowered your head as they stared. Eventually, Daryl shooed them all away, warning them to 'get out of your face.'

It made you laugh, and you aimed some teasing remarks in his direction - pestering him if he'd like to become your bodyguard. The chatter buzzed around you like nothing you'd ever heard before. Even in the old world, the atmosphere couldn't compare. You didn't know how long it had been since you'd even laid eyes on so many people at once. You knew that you'd have to clear out some other cell blocks just to make room for them all. This was the start of something; you just knew it.

Someone called your name from amongst the fray, but Daryl didn't stop ushering you over to a nearby seat. You whipped your head around in confusion, but continued to shuffle along until you had the opportunity to sit down. He leant against the table next to you, resembling a diligent guard dog. Daryl was the most loyal man you'd ever met, and everyday he reminded you not to settle for anything less. You wondered how anyone could ever come close to him - past or present. Your ex had been a mere speck of poorly-chosen dust in comparison to Daryl Dixon.

The man seemed to be able to read your thoughts, as he glanced in your direction with perfect timing - causing you to look away. You heard your name through the thick of the crowd again, and this time tried harder to locate the source. Only a few seconds later, someone emerged from the centre of the room, pushing past everyone so that she could get to you.

The woman had neat brown hair to her shoulders, and was wearing a sundress that looked like it had been recently pressed. All of the former Woodberry inhabitants looked clean, but she definitely stood out due to how beautiful she was. Her eyes were a warm coffee colour, and her smile was bright as she looked over at you.

You choked on your words, immediately standing up only to stumble into Daryl's shoulder. He quickly got a hand under your arm to steady you, but had a disapproving expression on his face as he did so.

"Vanessa?" You spluttered out, and she gave you an excited nod in return.

Daryl barely had time to step aside before the woman bounded up to you and flung her arms around your neck. She squeezed you so tightly that you forgot how to breathe, but you hugged her back with the same force - clasping your arms around her back.

You were utterly speechless. The last time you'd seen the woman, the two of you were witnessing the complete horror of your camp being destroyed. You'd looked for her in the days following, but she'd seemed to simply disappear into the night. You hadn't even thought she'd made it out alive. She'd been your colleague before all this, and then your campmate. But, most importantly, she'd been your friend.

You stared at her as she pulled away, and she giggled at your dumbfounded expression. Her smile was as pretty as you remembered, and you suddenly felt pale in comparison to her rosy cheeks and honey complexion. She was as quick-witted as ever, and wasted no time in regaining her composure to tease you like you'd never even spent any time apart.

Daryl watched in silence, not wanting to interrupt, but you could tell that he was starting to put the pieces together.

"You were the one who shot him?" She asked, as though in utter shock.

She had her hands on either of your shoulders, and looked you up and down before settling over your one foot that you kept hovering above ground.

"Yeah." You replied sheepishly, and glanced off to the side.

The woman slapped your arm in disbelief, and Daryl shot her a warning look that made you snort. She looked over at the man, too, and raised an eyebrow.

"What on earth happened to you?" She questioned, meeting your eyes this time.

You stared at the floral pattern of her sundress, secretly wishing you had something equally as pretty, and shrugged.

"Well, I hit my forehead and sprained my ankle-" you started, but the woman cut you off.

"I don't mean that." She remarked, with a disapproving tone.

She sounded the same as she did on those days you'd spend your lunch breaks together, or go and get coffee at the local shop - trading gossip and work secrets. She grinned at you mischievously, and it didn't go unnoticed by Daryl.

"Where is the timid girl who sang 'Yellow Submarine' to us from her tent every night?"

The man beside you was the one to laugh this time, and you jabbed him with your elbow in response.

"I really do miss that tent." You mumbled under your breath, and thought you could hear Daryl weakly protest below his.

Vanessa eyed the two of you, and her mouth upturned into a grin you recognised all too well. It was the one she wore when whispering to you about cute baristas, or when sliding her number across the bar.

"And who's this?" She said, in a tone that was equally as familiar.

She turned to face Daryl, and gave him a quick once-over like she was checking for any visible flaws. You couldn't contain your laugh; she always did lack subtlety.

"This is Daryl." You told her, and slipped your hand into his. "My-" you paused, furrowing your eyebrows as you did, "boyfriend?"

It came out like a question, and Daryl snorted uncharacteristically from beside you.

"'M too old for tha' word." He grumbled, but it was still light-hearted.

You took the opportunity to have some fun, and pressed your chest against his arm as you got closer to his ear.

"What do you want me to say, then?" You asked teasingly. "My partner? Sweetheart?"

The man seemed completely taken aback to hear you call him anything besides 'Dixon.'

"My other half? The old ball 'n chain-" you continued, but were abruptly interrupted as he shrugged you off in embarrassment.

"D'you wan' another head injury?" He asked - a little too quickly and a lot too loudly.

Vanessa laughed her usual dainty laugh, and you'd almost forgotten that she was even there. Daryl's cheeks were dusted a light pink, and you knew he would remind you of this later when you were alone.

"You two are good together." The woman spoke, causing you to look over in her direction. "I'm glad you found someone in all of this."

You gave her a shy smile, before looking down at your feet. You'd never been good with compliments, but she always seemed to have an abundance of them to give.

"After everything you've been through," she went on, this time glancing over at Daryl with a look that could only be described as approval. "You really deserve someone who can make you happy."

Happy. That is what this feeling was. You'd almost forgotten what the word meant, but you were suddenly reminded. Daryl had made you feel a lot of things since you'd met him - first a lot of nerves and sometimes even frustration, but eventually it became comfort and security. However, you realised that all along there were moments of happiness. Even back at the farm, the man never did fail to make you laugh - intentionally or unintentionally. Whether it was his dry sense of humour, or the wise-cracks he'd make in those days where he seemed younger, and more willing to fight the world.

You looked over at the man like you'd only just come to the most obvious of realisations. Daryl Dixon made you happy - like nothing else had before.

As the night started to settle down, the atmosphere fizzled away along with it. Everyone had taken to their temporary sleeping arrangements, and you could tell that Daryl was holding back his yawns as he helped you clamber over the people left chatting on the floor. The day felt like it had gone on for a week, and you couldn't wait to just sink into bed and let your bandaged head meet the pillows.

Across the block, you spotted Rick talking to some of the new residents, and urged Daryl to return to the cell ahead of you. The man glanced down at your foot and then back up to your eyes, as though needing to state the obvious. You shook your head, telling him that you'd get Rick to help you up the stairs once you were done. You just wanted to talk to the officer briefly, and didn't want to keep Daryl up any longer than he needed to be.

He didn't seem entirely convinced, but he left you propped up against the wall where you instructed him to. His stubbornness had definitely rubbed off on you, you'd realised, and he could hardly attempt to fight against it.

"Deputy Grimes!" You called, once Daryl was out of ear-shot. "Get over here for a second."

The man looked up from his conversation, and you watched him excuse himself before making his way over. He looked equally as exhausted as the rest of you, and stepped heavily over the stone floor. Still, he gave you a small smile as he approached, and squeezed your shoulder.

"You did good today." He drawled, praising you for the second time tonight.

You rolled your eyes and slapped his chest with the back of your hand.

"Don't let Daryl hear you say that." You warned, with a teasing look. "I could have died, remember?"

You'd said the words in Daryl's Southern accent, impersonating the man the best you could. Rick laughed in response, and you quickly glanced over your shoulder just to double-check that the archer wasn't still looming there.

"Never knew him to be so uptight." The officer replied, and you shrugged.

"He just needs a good night’s sleep." You explained, glancing over at the staircase leading to the second floor. "I think we all do."

Rick especially seemed like he was dead on his feet, but he held it together well. You couldn't imagine the pressure he felt having to keep everyone safe during times like these. You wanted to ease that burden a little, or even just throw some distractions in the mix to make him forget about it.

"Anyway, I heard that Glenn found a camera at Woodberry." You started, watching as he raised an eyebrow at you.

A few hours ago you'd hijacked it, and briefly kidnapped the Grimes children for that photoshoot you'd been threatening. The polaroid had turned out even better than you'd hoped - and you had almost been tempted to keep it for yourself.

You pulled the picture from your pocket, careful not to bend it, and passed it to the man. His eyes squinted as he looked at it, flat atop his palm. Both Carl and Judy were sporting their sheriff's hats, and the older Grimes had his sister perched on his lap.

"Thank you for everything you've done for us, Rick." You told him, and watched as he brought the picture closer to his face. "I'll never forget how you were always there for me."

It was rare that you ever saw the man speechless, but in that moment you were sure you saw a glimpse of the same Rick Grimes you'd first encountered back at the farm - that officer friendly who would give anything for his family.

He shook his head wordlessly, before tucking the picture into the inside pocket of his jacket.

"You don't give yourself enough credit." He said quietly, before slinging one of your arms around his neck. "And I don't think you ever will."

You returned to your cell soon after that, bidding the officer goodnight at the door. He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before reminding you to change your bandages in the morning. You laughed in response, wondering why all the men around you treated you like glass.

The room was quiet as you ducked under the sheet hanging at the doorway, and you shuffled inside. Daryl had lit the small lamp on the table, and it cast a warm, golden glow over him where he lay. He had his eyes closed, but you noticed he had your headphones on - connected to the walkman that was left at the edge of the mattress.

You could hear the faint din of the music as some sound escaped, and slowly made your way over to the bed - not wanting to startle the man. He was still fully dressed, and had his arms tucked under his head as he lay on his back. You didn't think he was asleep; rather, he seemed to be waiting for you.

You knelt down onto the mattress, feeling it dip beneath your weight as you crawled up beside him. He didn't react, so you pulled one side of the headphones from his ear, and brought your lips close to it.

"Boo." You whispered, and blew hot air there to make him shiver.

This time he cracked an eye open, and pulled you down beside him gently. He continued to be mindful of your head, and plumped a pillow up for you to lay on. He then removed the headphones, and twisted the ends of them so that the speaker parts were facing outwards.

You chuckled at the action, suddenly thinking back on your childhood where you'd share a pair with your friends. Daryl placed them in the space between the two of you, so that you could both listen to the songs together. You heard something by The Beatles play muffled, and closed your eyes to take in the melody.

The two of you talked briefly, and sleepily, for a bit. Daryl grumbled about you using him as a makeshift crutch for the majority of the night, and you just hummed in response. You caught him glancing over at you every now and then, but he made no attempt to pull you closer like he usually would have. You knew it was because of your head; he didn't even have to tell you.

"Hershel said it might leave a small scar." You told him, like it was a secret you felt needed to be disclosed.

You didn't really mind all that much, but you knew Daryl had a tendency to look at you guilt-stricken whenever he saw you injured. You just wanted to warn him - just in case.

"Like Harry Potter or some shit?" The man mumbled, and you rolled your eyes.

"Maybe." You replied.

The chatter downstairs had settled, and all that remained was the tinny sound of the music that quietly played near your ear. You swallowed thickly, staring up at the ceiling to see the uneven cracks that marred it.

"Will you still love me if I have a gawdy scar over my forehead?" You asked teasingly - but a part of you felt nervous to hear the response.

Then, your eyes widened as you realised your choice of words. You sat up, immediately feeling the blood rush to your head as you did so.

"Wait-" you stuttered, noticing the man's expression. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

He cut you off before you could finish.

"I will."

You blinked, but he pulled you back down to him - this time letting you lay your head gently over his chest.

"Know I ain't said it before, but-" he paused, "I love ya."

His heartbeat pounded quickly against your cheek, as though proving his words.

"I love ya so goddamn much, so don't ever pull that shit on me again."

You felt tears start to well up in your eyes, and hoped he couldn't feel them dampen his shirt.

"I love ya - you crazy woman who shot the governor an' took a bullet for me."

You swallowed thickly, trying to hide the wateriness of your voice as you responded.

"I love you too, Dixon." You admitted, wondering why you hadn't done so before.

You'd loved the man almost as long as you could remember; but it was one thing to love, and another thing to be loved in return.

"I won't let anything on this earth take me away from you." You mumbled against him. "You don't have to worry about that."

Daryl breathed in deeply, and you moved along with the rise and fall of his chest. This is what happiness felt like, you decided. Happiness wasn't as perfect as you had once thought it to be - back in the old world. It wasn't that amazing job, or the hard-earned paycheck, nor was it the men who called you pretty whilst giving you an ugly stare. Happiness for you was now walking around the perimeter of a dingy prison, hand-in-hand, as you stared up at the morning sun preparing for a fight. Happiness was those nights you'd stay awake, listening to the laughs down the hall of Maggie and Glenn as they whispered about their future together, and noticing that Daryl was eavesdropping, too. Most importantly, happiness was the man who you woke up next to, and the sound of his voice as he told you 'good morning.'

You looked down at his hand, resting on his chest, and saw the ink there that had smudged throughout the day. The walkman finished its tune, and there was a brief, few-second silence before it skipped to the next one. A familiar melody rang out, and Daryl placed a careful kiss over your hair.

"I like this song." He whispered against you, and you nodded in return.

"Yeah, me too."

A/N It took 20 chapters, 120k words, but they finally exchanged their ‘I love you’s.’ I think it was obvious that they already loved each other before this, but hearing them say it out loud just-

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dragon-kazansky · 3 years

Text

Til death do us part | Helmut Zemo

Bodyguard AU! 🕶

Gender neutral reader

Collage by @realremyd

[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter]

Part 5

Bucky got the Baron back to the hotel without issue. Well, no other issue than the Baron's complaints. Zemo insisted on several occasion that Bucky turn the car back around and they go get you.

Bucky didn't say a single thing to him. He just kept driving. When he pulled up outside of the hotel he climbed out and opened the back door. He grabbed the Baron by the arm, ignoring all his complaining as he escorted him into the building.

Zemo was promptly taken up to his room. He was going to push Bucky off of him, but Bucky had a tight hold on him. Zemo is pushed into his room and Bucky stands in the way of the door. He clasps his hands together in front of him and stands there stoically, facing the Baron.

Zemo glares at him.

"I hired you, you should do I say."

"Our duty is to protect you, and protect you we did."

"You let them behind."

"Our duty comes first," Bucky tells him.

"Your duty involves leaving your colleagues to fall at the hands of armed gangs?" Zemo is fuming.

Granted, Zemo didn't care much for you when you arrived at his home. You weren't the same as your colleagues. You didn't look like bodyguard material. He didn't think you were capable.

He was wrong.

You put your life before his to ensure your job was done. He disrupted that by climbing out of the car and checking on you.

Why had he checked on you?

"You left them to die."

Bucky doesn't say anything, but Helmut picks up on the slight shift of his stance. Bucky felt guilty, as he should, but he also carried out his duty.

Helmut watched as Bucky raised a hand to his ear to listen to whatever was being said.

Bucky lowered his hand and said nothing.

"Well?" Zemo asks.

"They got away. The others are returning here now."

"And Y/N?"

Bucky doesn't answer him. This infuriates the Baron more.

Zemo had been to war. He was Colonel once. He had his own squad. He had seen people die, but to think that someone he hired to protect him had died doing just that, it felt strange to him.

You had given your life for his.

Thirty minutes later, Steve and the other make it to the hotel. Steve knocks on the door, giving the code word they had agreed upon to let them know it was each other. Bucky let's them in.

Zemo stands from where he had been sitting in silence with his own dreaded thoughts.

His room is filled by the other bodyguards.

"Well?" He demands.

"They got away. We fear the will come after you again. I think we should bring your visit to London to an end and rearrange this meeting some other time. We will firmly get in touch with the representatives to discuss this for you. For now, until things cool down, we will keep you here for the reminder of your trip. We suggest you don't leave your hotel room until it's deemed safe again. They are still in the city," Steve says, standing in front of the Baron.

Zemo couldn't give a shit about the meeting.

"And your friend?"

Steve looks a lite taken back that the Baron was even asking. Zemo didn't like you. At least, he didn't before.

"They were escorted to the hospital immediately after the ambulance arrived. They passed out, but are stable."

Zemo's shoulder sink down from their tense position and he casts his eyes off to the side slightly. He sighs softly.

"Take me to them."

"No can do, sir. You are to remain here until the threat level diminishes, Steve replies sternly.

"I demand to see them."

"I'm sorry, sir. We can't allow that."

Zemo hates those words with a passion. He needed to know you were OK. He needed to see you with his own eyes.

He owed you an apology.

Helmut sinks back down into his seat and tilts his head back. He runs his hands down his face and sighs again.

You were stable. He'll take what he can for now, though he isn't happy about it.

"So, you're going to keep me locked in my room?"

"Yes."

That was aspect number two in which he hated. Zemo rises from his seat and makes his way over to the bedroom of his suite. He closes the door behind him.

Once he was gone, the band of bodyguard turn to each other.

"Is Y/N OK?" Clint asks.

"Do you have any idea how hard it was to leave them there and bring him back?" Bucky says.

"They're stable right?" Nat chimes in.

"That was insane," Sam remarks.

Steve holds his hands out in front of him and tries to get them to quiet down.

"Y/N is alright though, right?" Carol asks.

"They're stable. They were shot twice. Once in the shoulder, once in the hip. I don't think they were aiming to kill Y/N, just get them down," Steve says.

"That asshole got out of the car," Bucky tells them.

"He did?" Nat asked.

"Yeah, he went over to Y/N. He looked pretty damn worried too. Did we miss something?" Bucky asks.

"Maybe he feels guilty about being an asshole?" Clint suggests.

"I doubt that," Carol says.

"Whatever it is, don't worry about it. He's safe and Y/N will live. I have to make a call to Stark. Do not let him leave the room," Steve said, making his way outside into the hall.

Bucky stays planted by the door as the other scatter around and wait.

"Y/N was incredibly brave," Nat says, deep in thought.

"They're a brilliant bodyguard, we all know that," Sam says.

"Has Y/N ever been shot before?" Carol asks, trying to think back.

"Yeah, a while ago. It was years ago, back when they started," Sam answered.

"Damn, I remember that," she says, the memory coming back.

"It's going to take a lot more than that to bring our Y/N down," Bucky states.

They all agree.

In his room, Helmut was leaning against the door. He would hear them talking about you. He felt a fool for ever doubting your skills. To hear you had been shot at before made him wonder. You must really love your job if you could get shot at and carry on.

Then again, he should know how that feels.

Not only back in the army, but back on that day too. Walker had taken everything from him as a result of trying to get rid of him, only to fail. He paid the price that day.

He lived. They didn't.

He closes his eyes and tries to block out the horrid images which threatened to flood back into his mind. Sometimes he can see them when he closes his eyes.

You were in much the same position today. It was as if he was seeing it all over again.

Zemo pushes away from the door and falls onto the bed, trying to bury his face in his pillow.

"I don't want to remember," he mutters.

He falls asleep there, still dressed and disheveled. He sleeps right through dinner, which is left at his bedroom door untouched.

Most of the bodyguards had excused themselves from the room, returning to either their room or the hall.

Steve and Sam remained in Zemo's room.

It had been six hours since the shooting in central London. It was all over the news, which Steve had on, but kept the volume low.

There weren't any shots of the actual shooting, reporters only getting there after the event was over, but witness statements from people in the surrounding buildings gave a pretty good description of what went down there.

No one mentioned your sustained injury.

He was rather glad about that. You could recover in piece.

He hadn't told anyone yet about the phone call to Tony. He wasn't quite prepared to share the details until he had a chance to speak to you. He would do so in a couple of days. He had contacted the hospital and they agreed to call him when you were ready for visitors.

Sam looks a the untouched plate of food.

"You think he's going to eat that?"

The food had been brought up a short while ago. This would be the second meal they ordered that he hadn't touched.

"You can have it. I'll get him something when he comes out."

Sam picks up the plate.

"What do you think is wrong with him? He wasn't like this before."

Steve shrugs.

"I don't know. Something must have happened between them out there. Yesterday he couldn't understand what Y/N was even doing with us, today he's locked himself away because they saved him. I don't know what's going on."

Sam sighs softly.

"I'm at least glad he isn't hating them now though. Y/N is more than capable of protecting that asshsole. Hell, they proved it."

Steve just nods silently.

His phone begins to ring. Steve gets up and goes to answer it on the other side of the room.

Sam watches in interest.

Steve hangs up and turns back around to Sam.

"Y/N is awake. I'm going to go see them. Keep Zemo here. I'll call you later."

Sam nods and watches Steve go.

There were no words to describe how relieved Sam felt right now. You were going to be just fine. He knew you would be.

Probably best he didn't mention it to Zemo just yet.

@thesuitkovian @justfangirlthingies @belle82devart @zemosimp420 @anteroom-of-death @silverlambcaptain @that-stupid-head-tilt-thing @lieutenantn @daniielbruhl @awesomesauce-abbie @latenightartist-author @lazygurl05 @rumblelibrary @nonamec0s @shura-gorl @ginger-abreu @caligrl1992 @livvyshmiv @luciadiosa @vverliebt @tatooineisdry @charistory @somethingthatsaysbubbles @apparrio @alex-the-nb @thewrongkhristol

#marvel #zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo #au #baron helmut zemo #zemo #bodyguard au

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rocksandrobots · 3 years

Text

Phantoms of the Past: Ch. 5 - Best friends, Boyfriends, and Barons Part 1

"Hey Miss Itamae! Ready for a whole new school year? Hee...hee...eeeh.... yeah, fine." Hiro gave up trying to make small talk with the lunch lady as she unceremoniously slopped meatloaf onto his plate.

Today was the first day of the fall semester and the start of Hiro's second year at SFIT. It felt odd to him, to look back and realize just how much time had passed; how much things had changed during the previous year.

A year ago, today, he had been attending Tadashi's funeral and now he was going about his life as if everything was normal. Well, almost normal. He was also moonlighting as a superhero, adopting an out of time teenager as his new big brother, and befriending deadly robots.

Life was weird.

Of course it wasn't as if he could ignore his loss completely. He had noticed the flowers and cards placed at the foot of Tadashi's memorial over by the exhibition hall. People still remembered that his brother had died a hero. Folks that he didn't even know had left their condolences today, though most of the gifts were from Tadashi's teachers and friends.

Hiro had particularly noticed a painting Honey Lemon had left, of her, Tadashi, and the rest of their friends. He also spotted Gogo sitting out there early that morning, lighting a candle in his brother's memory. He had given her her space, choosing not to interrupt. Gogo and Tadashi had been especially close.

Hiro remembered how excited his brother had been when Gogo finally agreed to go out with him. Tadashi had hurried about their bedroom, a couple of days before the fire, fretting over where to take her on their first date. A date that they had never gotten to go on. At the time Hiro had teased him relentlessly, never passing up the chance to deflate his brother's ego. Now it was just another bittersweet memory to look back on.

Fred abruptly snapped him out of his mournful reflection. "Steve." was all he said as he grabbed Hiro by the shoulders.

"Steve? Uh, my name is Hiro, remember Fred?"

"No, no, no, Steve was the name of the ninja robot that Trina found. She said he was held in a warehouse downtown, along with all the other ninjas. Don't you see, that's our big break! We find this warehouse and then we can track down the mysterious bosu!"

Hiro wearily placed his tray down on the table and took a seat next to Wasabi.

"Fred, it's the first day of school. Can't this wait for later?"

"But-"

"Hiro's right Fred," Wasabi interrupted, "Just because you have all the time in the world to play superhero doesn't mean that we do. We still got our own lives to take care of."

Fred looked hurt at that. "I'm not playing! This is important work. We have a city to protect and this crime boss is just going to keep coming after us if we don't figure out how to stop them."

Wasabi rolled his eyes. "Then you just go on and do that. In the meantime the rest of us have class to attend. I'm heading early to set up for my first lab."

"But labs won't open for like another hour." Hiro pointed out, confused. "They're still cleaning up from the robot attacks last week."

"Ah, he just wants to get there early so that he can see his boyfriend again." Fred complained.

"Sam's not my boyfriend. He's just a colleague, and at least I'm doing something other than obsess over superheroing." And with that Wasabi stormed off, while Fred slouched into the cafeteria chair with a huff.

"Listen, Fred, why don't you go on patrol with Minimax for a while. I'll help you track down this warehouse after school is over with." Hiro said.

"Okay," Fred reluctantly agreed, "but I'm not 'obsessing'."

"I know Fred, but the rest of us also have school to worry about. We just don't have the same amount of free time as you do."

"I know." Fred sighed before walking off.

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

"Sorry Hiro, but we're kind of busy right now." Honey Lemon regretfully informed her friends.

Fred and Hiro had met up after school as promised. Wasabi had declined to join them on their quest and so they had decided to recruit the girls instead. Though this also seemed to be a fruitless endeavor.

"Yeah, we're kind of in the middle of something." Gogo finished as she leaned back in a reclining chair and placed two cucumber slices over her eyes.

They had found the girls at a spa. Honey Lemon sat next to Gogo with curlers in her hair, and they apparently weren't the only ones out having a beauty day.

"Can't you see we're having some girl time?" Karmi asked, annoyed, as she examined her nails.

"Yeah, Hiro, go take your weird superhero hobby elsewhere?" Megan added.

"It's not weird!" Fred insisted.

"If this is supposed to be a girls only event, then why is he here?" Hiro said, pointing to Varian, who sat next to Megan.

"Uh, getting a manicure obviously." Varian rolled his eyes and then leaned over to show Carol, who was beside him, two bottles of nail polish. "Do you think I should go with the midnight blue or just stick with black?"

"Hmmm... I think either would be nice," she replied.

"Ooooh, have you tried the seaweed wrap they have here? It's great." Fred chimed in.

Hiro rolled his eyes, "Okay, so what are you two doing after this? Could you take up patrol tonight?"

"Nope." Gogo said.

"I promised my brother Carlos that I would help him move into his new dorm room. He starts at UCLA this week and Gogo's offered to drive me there. We won't be back till tomorrow morning." Honey Lemon explained.

"Okay, well, we'll just-"

"Alright, I'm ready." A voice called out, interrupting him.

Trina walked out from behind a door at the back of the spa. Her bulky gigantic metal body was gone and in its place was the frame of a young woman, dressed in a t-shirt, pants, and a cropped jacket. She looked very much the same as the day Hiro had first met her, at the bot fights. Only this time her hair had been cut and styled into a short mohawk and dyed a light purple.

"What do you guys think?" She asked as she twirled around.

Everyone shouted encouragements to her, and Varian cheekily whistled.

"You look nice, Trina." Hiro complimented.

Trina snorted and rolled her eyes. "In your dreams, Hiro." She said, leaving the teenage genius confused by what he had said wrong.

Ignoring him, Trina walked over to the rest of the girls, "Thanks for the clothes... and for everything else." She sheepishly added.

"Hey, no problem." Megan replied. "They look good on you."

"Yeah, and if you need anything else just ask." Karmi added.

"Not to mention it's always fun to have a spa day," Carol piped in. "This was a good idea Varian, thanks for inviting me along."

"Sure thing. When Trina said she wanted help with finding a new wardrobe, I figured all of you would like to go shopping too.... and also y'all know more about clothes than I do."

"Hey, Trina," Fred interjected, "that warehouse where you foun- I mean, met 'Steve', do you happen to remember where it was located?"

Trina gave Fred a frown.

"Oooh, who's Steve?" Karmi asked, happy to gossip, "Is that your boyfriend Trina?"

"No." She said, "The place you're looking for is over in Good Luck Alley, next to Louie's."

"It must've been a bad breakup." Karmi whispered into Honey Lemon's ear, she wasn't very good at keeping her voice down.

"Yeah… he kind of... broke alright." Honey Lemon nervously added, unsure what to say.

"Uh, yeah, well thanks for the tip Trina. We'll be going now, bye." Hiro said as he hurried Fred out the door. He had had enough of awkward conversations and makeovers.

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

"Fred, wouldn't it be better if we brought our robots along at least?" Hiro whispered.

"You want to sneak around an abandoned warehouse with those two?" Fred whispered back, "I love him, but Minimax doesn't know how to be quiet, like at all."

Hiro sighed, Fred had a point. Baymax also wasn't the best at stealth missions. Hiro slid into the alleyway and peered through a dirty window. He couldn't shake the sense of deja vu as he remembered how he and the robotic nurse had tracked down his missing microbots a year ago at a similar warehouse. They had both been nearly killed by Callaghan when the villain had caught them snooping around. He would prefer to avoid such a scenario again.

"It doesn't look like anyone is here." He said.

"See any ninja robots?" Fred asked as he also pushed by to get a look, pressing his nose against the glass.

"No… Fred, this may be a dead end. Trina already raided the place and no doubt this Bosu would have abandoned the hideout if it was compromised."

Fred pouted, "Maybe… Buuuut, we could always man a stake-out and find out for sure!"

"Fred, I have homework to do. Maybe some oth-"

"Oh please! Just for an hour, or two? Please, please, please? Pretty please? I'll do your homework for you."

"I don't want you doing my homework."

"Okay, chores then; I'll wash Varian's dirty socks and underwear for a… a week… no, a month! Come on, I know how much you hate doing laundry."

Hiro sighed and watched his friend crawl on his knees and beg. "Does it really mean that much to you?"

"Yeeeesss."

"Okay, and no, you don't have to do the laundry either."

Hiro turned to walk out of the alley and Fred got up and followed him.

"That's good, cause I don't actually know how to wash clothes. Usually, Heathcliff does all the laundry. Last time I tried to, I just flooded the washroom."

"Do you have any survival skills? Like at all?"

"Nope. Unless it's kicking bad guys' butts! Ooh, hey, we can host the stake-out at Louie's across the street. I'm starved."

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

Hiro and Fred took up a window booth inside the restaurant. The establishment had recovered from the police raid from a few months back and was now serving food as usual; though Hiro had already spotted the advertisement for the next upcoming 'bot fight.

A couple of hours past and they had both eaten their meals, plus dessert, along with Fred going back for seconds. Now they were both nursing a couple of cups of coffee, though Hiro's was going cold; it wasn't great coffee.

"Fred…"

"Yeah."

"It's been three hours now."

"I know."

"No one's showed up."

"Not yet."

"Look it's been… 'fun', but I'm going home now."

Hiro got up to leave but Fred grabbed him by the sleeve.

"Oh but… uhh… we haven't even tried the uh… hot dog sushi special. I hear it's really good."

Hiro leaned his head back slowly and closed his eyes in frustration. He didn't want to snap at Fred, really he didn't, but he was quickly losing his patience.

"Fred… no one is coming. Let's just call it a night and try again some other time. Okay." And with that he yanked his hand away and began to walk off.

Fred didn't follow. Instead he sat in the booth, his eyes downcast, staring blankly at nothing. It wasn't his usual pout either. It was something else. Some deeper sadness that few saw from the usually optimistic teen.

Hiro began to worry. He walked back, and stood there waiting for Fred to jump back up all excited again for his return, only he didn't.

"Fred, what's wrong?"

Fred sighed but couldn't bring himself to answer.

"Look, I know that this superhero business is important to you, so much so that you'll probably wind up making a career out of it, which is great, but the rest of us are not going to be doing this for the rest of our lives. We also have to keep up with our studies, chores, our jobs, and what little shred of a social life we have."

"That's not it… I mean yeah, it's a part of it, but that's not why I asked you to come along."

Fred finally looked Hiro in the eye and tears threatened to spill.

"I just miss my best friend, okay."

Hiro looked at him confused.

"I didn't want to say anything, cause… cause he's your brother and I didn't think you'd want to be reminded about him being gone any more than you already have… but today has just been really hard… remembering what happened… I just thought getting out and doing something fun, getting both our minds off everything, might be better than just… just being alone. You know? Especially today."

Fred didn't even have to say Tadashi's name for Hiro to know who he was talking about.

Hiro sighed and slumped back down into the booth.

"I'm sorry…. I… I guess I just… I don't know. I didn't think...."

"No… no, don't. Of course you didn't think. I mean who wants to be reminded of that. The whole idea was to not think about it. And I just ruined it all by bringing it up. Gah…. I'm so sorry."

Fred put his arms over his head and brought his knees up to his chest as if trying to make himself as physically small as he felt. Hiro just had to laugh at the sight in spite of himself.

"It's okay Fred. You're not going to upset me just by talking about Tadashi."

Fred peaked his head out from between his arms. "I'm not?"

"No. I mean he was your friend too."

"My best friend! Man, Tadashi and I, we got up to all sorts of trouble. He was always down for anything. I mean, did he tell you about the time we crashed my cousin's bar mitzvah? As in, we literally crashed. He drove the sport's car into the buffet table by mistake… We couldn't find the parking and then there was this wet patch in the parking lot and we skidded… Oh and then there was the time Mole dared us to a drag race using scooters and Tadshi had the idea to attach rockets to mine and I went flying.. I tell ya, man, Mole wouldn't live it down for a whole week after. He kept demanding a rematch, but I mean it was fair. He was using his butler to ride for him in his place."

Hiro could barely contain his laughter, "Wait… wait… you and Tadashi did all this?"

"Yeah."

"Why have I never heard of any of this before?"

"I don't know, but he's the whole reason why I got the mascot job in the first place. I knew I could never get into the school myself, but I thought we could hang out together more if I went. He's also the one that introduced me to everybody else."

"Then how did you two meet?"

"Oh at the grocery store."

Fred said this as if it was the most obvious of explanations but Hiro looked as confused as ever. So Fred continued on.

"He was there getting chewing gum and I was buying a shopping cart. Like an actual shopping cart."

"Why?"

"Yeah that's what he asked too. So I told him, 'I'm going to ride down Dead Man's Hill in one.' And he said, 'Dude, that's so rad. You're totally going to die.' And I said, 'Yeah, I know. You wanna join?' And he did. We rode all the way down from the top of Lumbar Street to the docks… and landed right in the bay. It was awesome! We screamed our heads off the whole time. It was so awesome, in fact, that we walked back to the store and bought another cart just to do it again. That was back when we were both still in high school, and we've been best buds ever since. You know… until…"

Hiro looked at Fred sadly. There so much about his brother that hadn't known about, hadn't even thought to ask. What else had Tadashi not shared with him? Probably a lot, I mean why tell your kid brother about your social life? And there's no way that he'd have brought those crazy stunts up around Aunt Cass.

"I never knew any of that… Those are some really cool stories. Thanks for sharing them."

"Really?"

"Yeah, and you know, you don't have to drag me on some superheroing mission just to hang out and talk."

Fred looked guilty at that.

"I… I know… but it's like what you and Wasabi have been saying. Everyone else has something… something to motivate them, and y'all all do all these really cool things and I'm… I'm just me. I don't really have anything but superheroing. Unless you just need someone to make a mess."

"That's not true. Fred, you're great at a lot of things. You could go to school or get a job, if you wanted to. I just thought superheroing was all you wanted."

"Hiro, I can't even do laundry without messing up. I mean all you do is throw the clothes into a machine and push a button, and yet somehow I managed to screw even that up. All I know is comic books, and superheroing, and I'm not even the best at that! What would I even go to college for? I can't… I'm not a genius. I'm not a businessman. I'm not an accountant, or an artist, or an athlete. I'm not anything. I've no talent. I'm not even good at being rich. I've never fit in with the socialite crowd."

"Fred."

"Yeah?"

"You're good at being a friend, and if I have to sit here list off everything else you're good at then we'd be here for another three hours or more. So how about we head home and tomorrow I'll show you how to work a washing machine, and you can teach me how a stake-out is supposed to really go cause we're not getting anywhere here."

"Or are we?"

"What do you mean?"

Fred was no longer looking at Hiro but past him. He pointed to the window behind Hiro, and Hiro turned around to see for himself.

An elderly gentleman, dressed in an old fashioned military outfit, complete with a monocle, was entering the warehouse. He had a giant mechanical arm and a steam boiler strapped to his back.

"Baron Von Steamer."

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

Fred and Hiro found themselves standing in the alley peering through the warehouse's dirty windows for a second time that day. They saw Baron Von Steamer stomping around inside. He seemed irritated as he grumbled to himself and knocked boxes out of the way, as if searching for something.

"What's he doing?" Fred loudly whispered.

Just then Steamer found what he was looking for, a tea cup. He poured himself a cup out of a teapot he had placed on an old fashioned stove that was hidden towards the back and then sat down on top of a crate to sip his drink.

"It must be 'tea time' for him." Hiro said dryly.

Fred narrowed his eyes, "I bet he's just hatching his next nefarious scheme. Planning on how to take us and the city down. What do you think he wants with portals?"

Just then Steamer stood up and ruefully kicked away a busted up robot that had fallen out of a storage crate in his previous hunt for the tea cup.

"I don't think Steamer is our guy." Hiro said, "He hates modern technology, so why would he build ninja robots? Also, like you said, what would he want with portals? All he's after is your dad, and so far the Bosu hasn't gone after Boss Awesome yet."

"But they might. Remember what Roddy said? That Kensei guy used to be active during Dad's heyday but never got caught. What if, it's because Steamer had two villain identities!"

"That seems like a stretch."

"Okay, well, what if Steamer works for this Bosu? Like Sue and Sparkles?"

"That's more plausible, I guess."

Hiro turned to peer through the window again, but Streamer was gone.

'Wait, where did he go?'

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? A pair of interlopers." A curt British voice came from behind them.

Steamer must have noticed them and snuck around the back, cutting them off.

Hiro grabbed his phone in order to call his super suit, but Von Steamer nabbed his hand and yanked him off the ground, causing him to lose hold of his phone.

Fred was just as unfortunate, as Steamer held him in a choke hold in his metal arm.

"Waaaait," Steamer said as he eyed them both up closely, peering at them through his oversized monocle, "I know you two. You're friends of Boss Awesome's baby child!"

"I am Boss Awesome's baby child!" Fred protested before Von Steamer gave him a hard squeeze with his cyborg arm. Fred wheezed in pain.

Hiro reacted quickly and kicked the steampunk baron in the shins.

Von Steamer howled in pain and dropped Hiro in surprise, though he managed to keep his grip on Fred. He also had stepped on Hiro's phone while nursing his injured leg.

Hiro ducked and ran as Steamer regained his senses and pulled out a brass gun that was connected to the boiler on his back with a hose. He pulled the trigger and scalding steam shot out. Hiro ducked again to avoid it.

As he ran out of the alley way he heard Steamer shouting after him, "Yes, run back to Boss Awesome little one. Tell his baby child I have their friend, and either he, or they, must show up to face me or else!"

Hiro spared a glace backwards and saw Baron Von Steamer dragging Fred back into the warehouse.

"Fred!"

"Hiro!" Fred called out to him before being pulled into the darkness.

Hiro panicked. What could he do? Finally, he decided that getting help was the best option. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him, fighting back his worry.

#Hiro Hamada #Fred Frederickson IV #big hero six #bh6 #tangled #varian #tadashi hamada

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