#cope with the fact school is around the corner and will be up my ass | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mizunetzu · 4 years

Note

hi!! i just found your blog and i may or may not have binged all the fics 😼😼 i was wondering if you could write a dabi or hawks x male reader where the reader is a rly gentle and kind barista and dabi/hawks is just wHIPPED for him? i think thatd be mad cute 👉👈

LMAOOO DABI + HAWKS TIME TURN IT UP-

——————

Headcannons - Dabi and Hawks whipped for their local barista

⚠️Warnings - kidnapping (dabi)

Pronouns - male, he/him

——————

Dabi:

Ok so like hear me out

At first

AT FIRST

you didn’t catch this mans eye

In fact, he didn’t go to the coffee shop you worked at much because yknow...villain...

But it was late at night one day yk

And mans was like “oh boy, i sure am thirsty after committing homcide and robbery”

N the first place he sees

Dun dun dun

Is the 24 hr coffee shop you worked at HAHAHA

So he goes in, preparing to like-idk, threaten ur life for a cup of coffee or smth mean n whatnot

The door bell rings, and you turn around and give him the KINDEST MOST GENTLE-EST SMILE HES EVER SEEN

As a villain, and just someone who looks out of the ordinary in general, he never got much of that

SO WHEN HE SEES THIS...MAN SMILING FUCKING SUN RAYS AT HIM

HE FREEZES

You ask him if he’s ok, and DAMN UR VOICE WAS SO SOFT IT WAS BARELY INAUDIBLE WHAGSHDHEH

Mans usually isn’t at a loss for words but HE IS NOW

Instead of threatening you for a cup of coffee, he actually orders like a normal person

He’s the only one in the cafe since it’s so late, and you had the late night shift lucky you

He sat in the corner with his coffee in silence, occasionally stealing glances at you sweeping the floor or counting the money in the register

what was this foreign feeling in his chest whavabwhshs

He didn’t notice when you walked up to him

mans almost roasted you alive

LMAO BUT HE DIDNT SO IT OK

“Are you doing okay? Do you want a refill?”

He wasn’t really thirsty anymore but he did get a refill because he wanted to stay and watch you work some more like a creep

Yeah, one refill turned to three and he ended up talking to you for the rest of the night AWW

He was honestly suprised you didn’t know he was a villain, with the dark coat and scars and stuff

He ended up buying more coffee to take back to the league with the money he stole HAHAHA

Toga, sipping on her third coffee: yo why u buy so much damn

Dabi: 🤠

He started coming over more and more in the dead of night, on the days you worked which he totally didn’t find out by sneaking into the back room of the cafe and checking the schedule

You, somehow, didn’t find it suspicious that he’d always visit whenever you worked

One day, on one of the numerous times he’s visited, you mentioned how you used to be a bartender before switching over to being a barista

Something just...clicked

He’s a villain, right? Why’s he going so far to appeal to you, when he could just kidnap you and convince you to join the league?

So he did just that

You woke up in their weird club bar room hideout, tied to a chair with dabi and a few unfamiliar faces

Dabi lowkey felt bad (even for him) because even though you were literally just kidnapped, you gave him one of those heartwarming smiles

Even if it was a bit scared and forced, and probably a coping mechanism out of fear

“Look I ain’t gonna hurt you, dude. You’re one of my favorite people, so I’m offering you a deal.”

“Siiiiiiimp.”

“Shut the fuck up, Toga.”

Dabi nudged the girls side.

A girl with blond hair and a school girls uniform pointed a knife at you. You flinched and dabi kept talking

“You said you used to be a bartender, right? I’m sure you can help this guy out behind the counter. Join us.”

Dabi motioned at Kurogiri. He waved, LMAOO

“Join me...please”

As scared as you were, you couldn’t deny the fact you had a soft spot for this scarily intimating man who’d sit in the corner and sip coffee everyday at work

Hell, sometimes (all the time LNAJS) you joined him and you’d talk for hours

And hearing this guy say “please” for the first time?

You nodded slowly, and dabi smiled

It was a nice smile, even if it was a bit scary

How could you possibly refuse?

——————

Hawks:

Since he wasn’t yknow...fucking iilegal and a villain, he came by to your coffee shop during the day

He was workin, caught and turned in a villain yk the usual

And he was kinda far away from his house, n he was gettin kinda hungry

He was flying around the city, when he spotted your lil coffee shop

Well, it wasn’t really a coffee shop, more like a food stop that so happens to sell coffee n drinks aswell

And hEY

you just opened up too, it was a relatively new place

My mans hawks supporting new & local businesses <3

He goes in right

He sees yakitori on the menu and goes :D

So he goes to order

And sees this,,, BEAUTIFUL HANDSOME MAN BEHIND THE COUNTER

“Hi Mister! What can I do you for?”

YOUR VOICE WAS LIKE FUCKING ANGELS SINGING WHAGSHW

I think the main reason hawks was drawn to you was the fact you didn’t treat him like a celebrity and kissed his ass n whatnot, mainly bc you didn’t really keep up nor care about the trending hero’s and stuff (no offense to hawks and none taken)

He choked on his yakitori when you walked up to his lil table and asked for a picture for ur grandpa (who was a BIG fan, unlike you)

MANS REALLY HAD TO PUT ON HIS MOST CHARMING SMILE AND PEACE SIGN THIS SIMP IM HDHEIDIE

He kept going out of his way to visit ur shop frequently even though he lived preeeeetty far off

I mean mans has wings so it ain’t a problem but-

This simp-

He doesn’t show up in his hero outfit (unless he’s coming from patrol) so you didn’t really see him as “Hawks the hero”, more like “Keigo, the man who has stupid endeavor shorts and likes yakitori”

It’s really sweet he shows up in stupid graphic shirts and sweatpants he looks comfy-

He openly flirts with you, and at first you laughed and smiled because you didn’t wanna be rude (it still did things to Keigos heart)

but then

Ur laughs n smiles when he drops a stupid pickup line? They real

The way you offer to take over ur coworkers shifts just to see if Hawks stops by? It’s love just admit it

The totally unfair discount you gave him on yakitori, not mentioning the way you know how Keigo prefers it by heart? Just ask him out already DAMN

You two didn’t have any personal info on eachother, no numbers, emails, hell, Keigo didn’t know your first name (in Japan, you don’t really go by first names unless ur with fam or close friends yk?)

So when you nervously hand him his box of yakitori one day?

Hawks is like 🤠👍?

He opens it and sees:

“(Xxx)-xxx-xxxx -call me, and maybe we can, I don’t know, go out on a date and get to know each other more, yakitori-kun? ~(Y/n)

So ur first name was (Y/n), huh

HES WHIPPED

HES SIMPING

He looks over at you, hiding ur face and sneaking glances at him while ur coworkers stiffing snickers and nudging ur side

GOD TAKE HIM NOW

you bet ur ass hes calling u later and saving ur contact as “My yakitori man (Y/n) ✨❤️”

——————

Thank y’all for 700, by the way !! I love you all !!

#dabi x reader #dabi x gender neutral reader #dabi x male reader #dabi #dabi my hero academia #hawksbnha #my hero academia hawks #hawks x male reader #hawks headcanons #dabi headcanons #mha headcanons #bnha fanfiction #bnha x male reader #mha x male reader

1K notes · View notes

shinebrightlikeanarwhal · 3 years

Text

Random SF ideas

It has a lot of Travis ships because that's my feral lil bby. I'm having fun keeping him from bullying people by bullying him instead lol

Every time he enters school Sal mutters “anything can happen in the Bronx”. Todd is the only one that doesn’t understand.

Travis is emotionally constipated and will take it out on others, but later do small things as his form of apologizing. Philip and his mother are the only people that understand him and understand why. Sal thinks he may be bipolar and Larry has probably called him the r-slur under his breath. (Stinky boy probably would say it openly if not for Sal's disdain for that word).

Maple and Travis bonding over jewelry and make up. Travis won’t admit it to anyone but her but he likes the way Maple accessorizes. Obligatory Chug appreciation to keep on her good side, later forms a healthy and wholesome friendship.

Travis and Larry fight verbally. It doesn’t get physical unless Larry loses control and shoved Travis. This prompting a snarky reminder that Larry is no better than Travis’ own father. They cuddle and fall asleep later tho, after Sal puts them in their get along corner.

Nicknames. Travis’ weakness is nicknames. Lisa discovers this and shows Larry and Sal who abuse this power. Travis’ tan cheeks are bright red anytime he’s out public with them because of their stupidly sweet nicknames. Their go to for reactions are baby(boy), sweetheart and bottom

Shameless PDA when Sal is jealous. Travis learns the hard way how easy it is to make him jealous when a hand is in his waist and holding him close to the shorter. Fingers tracing any exposed skin to keep Travis focused on him. Sorry Lar, you took up too much Travis time..

Travis’ mom being an absolute babe. Apple if her eye is her sweet boy. Probably passed while he was young and had to watch him grow in that unhealthy environment.. maybe reaches out to Sal for help since he’s more intuitive. Def terrifies Larry a couple times as a prank. He hit her son, bully or not, it just felt right to braid his hair to his bed post a couple times and paint his nasty thoughts on his chest.

Travis hates surprises and loud noises because of his father. They don’t learn that until they throw a surprise birthday party with cheering and loud pops of confetti balloons, his panic attack damn near gave him a heart attack. (He refused to accept apologies for something they didn’t know. Instead demanding they spoil him for the rest of the week as compensation for his hospital trip on his birthday)

I said it once, and I’ll say it again. Service. Animals. Mr. Phelps legally obligated to give him a service animal and Travis is somewhat saved from Kenneth's abuse. Taking more time outside for walks (the dog can’t bare letting Travis stay in the house for long with his father home). He genuinely bonds with other students over his new dog (the dog allowing contact when not in uniform but if Travis’ needs are present will attach itself to Travis’ hip.

Religious trauma and coping. Because PLS, can we please address the amount of abuse because of the Bible?? That boy may stay and follow the proper words of his lord. Or he could detach himself from the church entirely (especially because of the cult!)

Travis ships: Salvis and Larvis

Asked out: Oh. Oh no. How did they fall for Travis?!? What did they do to find that feral little kitten so cute?? Was it they dyed hair? The dresses when he shows off more legs than they anticipated? Him apologizing and changing for the better?? What happened to him to make him so interesting!? Sal absolutely starts approaching Travis cautiously. Taken aback when he's greeted with a warm smile and compliments. They start to grow as friends and spend time together often. Sharing eachother with their friend groups and on their own. It takes a couple of years before Sal nervously asks Travis if he would be interested in getting closer. Travis doesn't understand and Sal just awkwardly blurts out if he would try dating him... for an experiment or anything. Travis is excited, he wants to be closer and happily hugs onto Sal as his answer.

Larry is a lot ore aggressive. Cornering Travis and glaring down at him. Demanding to know what his game is. Travis doesn't fight he just nervously asks if Larry hates him. Larry almost says he does but gets distracted by the trembling and cowering kitten before him. Fuck, he can't possibly hate Travis. Larry instead starts approaching Travis. At first Travis is afraid that Larry will hit him if he doesn't like something he does. Larry hates to admit it, but Travis infested his mind. Dreams were no longer sacred when teenage hormones and a new love interest were involved. Many a times he had to look away when Travis were a particular skirt or dress because his dreams seemed to run rampant with those items. When they finally talk, Travis initiates it. He Pushes Larry into a bathroom stall and demands he explain himself. He's staring at him like a piece of meat and following him around. Larry is scaring HIS friends. Larry doesn't even hesitate to pounce on Travis. Mouth to mouth and hands on ass. Travis surprised but kinda into it allows the kiss until Larry gets too handsy. He returns to his friends with an angry red hand print on his cheek. It takes a month of apologizing Travis finally agrees to give Larry a chance. (Larry tells his mom and dances around the apartment that night)

First kiss failures: Larry got too into the kiss and starts feeling up the poor boy. Sal pecks him in his sleep and never tells Travis. He just happily holds the memory of kissing his sleeping princess.

First dates: Larry tries to show Travis the fun things to do in this sleepy little town. Travis is excited just to go anywhere other than church and school. At first there are a few hiccups, maybe weather, maybe places are crowded or cancelled. But it still ends well with the boys passed out in the truck, snuggled under a blanket Larry stores with a big smile on their face. Sal is much more romantic. Candles and flowers. Dresses up nice and styles his hair in a neat bun. He wants to impress Travis and assert he can be the man for him by presenting more masculine (Travis snorts and tells him even in a dress Sal could fight a bear). Its a simple dinner at home with Gizmo as their lazy server, sleeping on the couch in a little suit. The night ends well with the boys enjoying a night stroll and admiring the calm and almost desolate surroundings of Nockfell.

First Times: Sal does NOT expect Travis to offer it. In fact, he almost shattered his favorite mug with the tight grip he put on it. Travis thinks this means Sal doesn't want him, but no nono, Sal wants it/ He wants Travis bad. That simp wastes no time scurrying to their room, cleaning his bed and all necessary items are prepared. He was well stocked for... college purposes, but Travis offering to give Sal his first?? (Yes. He did a victory dance and scream in the tree house when he thought he was alone.)

First Time: Larry would waste no time, grabbing Travis and making sure, this is what he wants. Larry may sleep around before they got together but he would never expect Travis to offer his first time so soon. Travis agreeing and Larry in tears hugging onto the confused man. He has never been so gentle with a partner and savored every second, sound and action. It may not have been Larry's first but he was more than happy to say it was his best. Larry would 100% scream to Sal about it later though. He is a man that appreciates his partner and would be an aftercare fiend. Relishing in any reactions Travis gives him while massages and treats the poor tired bum.

Living together: Hell hath no fury like Travis on cleaning day. The boys no not to be in his way if he has his cleaning apron and swiffer. The only one allowed to interrupt his most sacred day is Gizmo and any animals they adopt. Larry has to moderate his metal music or sleep on the porch, he tried to test Travis and found the porch uncomfortable during a rainstorm. No ghost hunting after 11pm. If you even think Travis will allow you in the house after hunting ghosts he will promptly pack your bags and ship them off to your parents. Sal has his own room dedicated entirely to clothes and accessories. His prosthetics he tries to hide at first but after a harsh scolding from Travis (while he literally hand cleans every single prosthetic so Sal doesn't get an infection) Sal starts putting them away where he feels comfortable and clean. They don't expect Travis to be semi nude half the time. Especially before they marry and start a family, no pants. Never wearing pants. Larry hams up the free skin. Sal is too embarrassed of his sinful thoughts.

Proposals: Travis would be terrified of marriage after what happened to his mother. If they were to propose they ould make sure he is fully comfortable and settled in their new life. They would make sure he is loved and never feels any of the fear his father had instilled in him. Larry mentions marriage in passing to gauge his reaction. Ig Travis tenses, he kills the conversation and instead distracts Travis. If Travis reacts positively he would sneak a ring on his finger and just smirk until Travis realizes and smiles. Sal =, however, is sneaky. Keeping close tabs on Travis. If Travis starts showing signs of interest, he would 100% plan the biggest proposal for Travis and make sure he feels cherished during every moment.

#travis phelps #larry johnson #larry x travis #sal fisher #sal x travis #salvis #larvis #laravis #sally face au #sally face #Travis having the absolute power over his simps #Lisa would be surprised Larrys boyfriend is the Phelps boy she saw on the news

38 notes · View notes

lilbabycee · 4 years

Text

bunny // steve rogers (part one) 🐰

READ PART TWO

↳ summary: the reader finds herself in a little bit of trouble... financially. enter steve rogers.

↳ relationship: soft dark!steve rogers x brat!reader

↳ word count: 5.6k

↳ warnings: sugar baby au, eventual dark steve, daddy kink, eventual smut, mentions of substance abuse, unhealthy coping mechanisms + relationships, the reader is rich and a little bit of a bitch

↳ author’s note: i started writing this series ages ago but i’m thinking that maybe posting it on here will give me the inspiration to continue! please enjoy! ❤️

chapter one: you expensive you know that?

—

" you expensive, you know that?

i'm high-maintenance a little but not in a, not in a negative way

i just like extremely expensive things"

- faithful, drake

—

“But Daddy-!”

“No, absolutely not,” your father shuts you down without hesitation which immediately makes your eyes water.

“Please, I promise I won’t do it again-”

“That’s what you said the last time,” he reminds you nonchalantly and you can hear the rapid clicking of a keyboard in the background of the call. He’s not even paying full attention to you, likely still working on whatever the CEO of a multi- billion dollar corporation needs to work on.

“But I’m serious this time!” you insist, cocking a hip and tapping your acrylics loudly on the top of your marble kitchen counter. “You know what I’m like - I swear I’ll do better this time-”

“Nope,” his hard tone cuts you off as you hear his office phone ring. He sighs loudly over the receiver which makes your heart fall. “Look, honey-”

You know what’s coming and you can’t even try to stop it.

“-I’ve got another call coming in. I’m not sending you another dime until you can prove to me that you have the ability to be financially independent. I didn’t pay for all of those expensive private schools so that you could sit on your ass all day and blow my money like it’s in endless supply. You have all the necessary credentials to go and get a well-paying job, so go get one, goddammit. And please call your mother - she’s been trying to call you all day. Neither of us have any time left to entertain your little addictions nor your blatant disregard for the hard work that we’ve put in to get you where you are today.

“You’ve proven to me before that you are grossly incapable of doing even the simplest of tasks, so don’t let me down with this one,” he sighs loudly. “Sometimes, I wish you were more like my colleagues’ kids - they’re doctors and lawyers but all you are is ungrateful. I’ve really gotta take this call,” he says your name sternly which makes you tap your nails even faster. “Do as you’re told for once in your damn life.”

“Daddy-!” you borderline shriek once more before the phone clicks and he’s off attending to more important business.

You don’t even realize that you’re pouting until your lips start to tremble, nor do you realize how much his words have gotten to you until you touch your cheek gently with your fingertips and they come back wet and glistening like gold in the warm light of day.

Maybe he’s right. You’ve been living in this penthouse for the past year without having to worry about anything. You loved it when you attended the first viewing, mainly because of the huge windows, three bedrooms and bathrooms (that you definitely don’t need because you live alone), the open plan, spacious kitchen and living areas, and the fact that all of your neighbors are either famous or excessively wealthy like you. You saw the acquirement of this apartment as a prime opportunity to further climb the social ladder, not that it’s really all that hard for you considering the fact that your father is one of the richest people in not only New York but the entire country. But you’d lived in Italy for a year prior to moving back to New York and upon your return to the USA, you decided that you really wanted to re-establish a name for yourself here, of course with the help of your father. He bought the penthouse almost the moment that you said you had your eye on it, and he just kind of…left you here. He’s only come to visit a handful of times since you bought it two years ago, though your mother has been over far more frequently to your utter dismay.

You inhale deeply through your nose, your eyelash extensions fluttering dramatically against your cheekbones. Grabbing your phone - the newest iPhone that you bought after you broke your other one at your friend Peter’s party - you sulk over to one of your ridiculously overpriced couches and fall dramatically - but not dramatically enough to crease the material of your latest drunk purchase, a white Gucci jumpsuit - on top of all your throw pillows, the picture of a damsel in distress. Your freshly manicured toes - painted white yesterday - curl into the softness of it as you huff, dabbing delicately at your face again to rid yourself of any traces of sadness before thinking about what the hell you’re going to do next.

Yes, you have a savings account that is far more than enough for you and your grandchildren’s grandchildren to live lavish lives and while that’s all well and good, even you know that you probably shouldn’t spend that... but it’d have to do until you found another way to get your money. With that, you shrug noncommittally and your face ID unlocks your phone so that you can start your newest endeavor - buying one of everything off of Alexander Wang.

Sure, you should be proactive and take initiative to finally take the steps to distance yourself from your parents, but you’ve only just had your twentieth birthday. After graduating from high school at fifteen - yes, fifteen: your parents really pushed you, to say the least, and it helped that you were naturally intelligent beyond the capabilities of even the nation’s best high school teachers - you started your undergraduate at Harvard in the fall and finished at eighteen. You took what you dubbed an ‘extended summer vacation’ - hence Italy - and now you’re at an impasse.

Okay, admittedly your various interests - you refuse to call them addictions because they’re really not that serious - that may or may not include a wide array of party drugs and alcohol probably don’t make you the most trustworthy person in the eyes of your parents. But you’ve done everything that they’ve told you to do for the past twenty years of your life - can they blame a girl for wanting to have a little fun? A smile spreads across your face as, while scrolling, you spy the blue dad jeans that were completely out of stock just last week and quickly add them to your cart with a sense of self-satisfaction before continuing to add almost everything else to your bag. It’s not like you’re heavily dependent on anything - substance abuse is not a good look for you: it was definitely more early 2000s than now - and you only do them recreationally in social situations, so your parents really have nothing to worry about. They’re overly paranoid about you somehow tarnishing their image when in reality, your work in and outside of an academic setting has really bolstered their reputation more than they could have ever hoped for - not to toot your own metaphorical horn, but your endless philanthropic work coupled with your eagerness to “make a change” and your work in fashion has put you on the Forbes 30 Under 30 every year since you were fifteen.

You press the checkout button and your Apple Pay seamlessly completes the purchase for you: $29,000. Shrugging noncommittally, you lock your phone and stare pensively at the picturesque view of New York City outside of your window; that is until Alexa alerts you that Natasha is calling you.

Perfect timing.

Natasha’s voice echoes over the loudspeakers in the ceiling. “Hey, bunny,” she greets you and you groan loudly at the nickname, restlessly hopping up to grab a glass of water from your kitchen.

“Hey Nat,” you reply, more of a whine than anything else, and she laughs loudly at your tone.

“What happened to you? “

“Daddy cut me off,” you huff, walking to the couches in front of the TV and settling down with your glass of water. With a press of a few buttons on the universal remote, you FaceTime your best friend instead - a flash of red hair and then a blindingly white smile. She assesses you on your couch and laughs again, a full-bodied cackle that only intensifies your pout.

“It’s not funny,” you protest, although the corners of your lips are quirking up in amusement at her ridiculous laughter.

“What did I tell you?” Natasha struggles to get the words out in between chuckles. “I knew he was gonna do this-”

“Yeah, so did I, but I didn’t think he’d do it this soon-!”

“I’m surprised he didn’t do it sooner,” Natasha moves around a little before propping her phone up against her knees so that you can see her sitting comfortably in her bed. She starts picking at her own black acrylics, “and you can’t deny, bunny-”

“Don’t say I deserve this,” you narrow your eyes at her, and Natasha only sends you her signature smirk.

“I wouldn’t say you deserve it, per se,” Natasha begins, “but you’ve gotta admit,” she says your name, clearly on the verge of laughter again, “I like a party as much as the next girl, but you do go a little overboard-”

“I wouldn’t say overboard,” you insist, suddenly taking up a very keen interest in your cuticles. “Here’s what it is: Mother doesn’t like the fact that I don’t like her and Daddy’s just flat out disappointed in me for no reason-”

“-apart from the fact that you very nearly got caught doing lines of blow off of Senator Pierce’s son-”

“Shhhh,” you interrupt her, closing your eyes and pressing a finger to your lips while shaking your head, unable to fight the growing grin on your face. “That was one time-”

“You mean the one time you got caught-?”

“Yes, Natasha, that’s what I mean. Anyway - you never call me like this unless you need something - thought you were gonna text me instead. What’s up? Is it Bru-”

“Oh, no,” Natasha quickly cuts you off, her cheeks flushing red. “Bruce and I have been over for a while now-”

“You were just talking about him last week-”

“Yeah, yeah,” she deflects, tapping her fingers on her thigh. “I was actually calling to see if you wanted to go shopping for Parker’s party that’s tonight-?”

“Yes, absolutely yes - why would you even have to ask-?”

“Okay, cool,” she interrupts you, smiling toothily. “Get Jarvis to get you there by 2:30 - I wanna go to the Louis store: the summer collection just dropped-”

“Sounds perfect-”

“But one more thing,” she says your name again but in a more concerned tone. You finish your glass of water and set it on the coffee table before leaning forward slightly.

“What’s going on, Nat?”

“I’m worried about you, bunny,” both her eyes and her tone have softened drastically, making you purse your lips. “What’re you gonna do now that your dad’s not giving you any more money?”

You sigh loudly through your nose, shaking your head. “I don’t know, Nat,” you admit, snapping a hair tie against the skin of your wrist rapidly. “I’ll just have to find a job - or do more sponsorships and ads and get back into modeling and maybe actually try acting this time?”

Her green eyes pin you to your couch, even through the screen, and she scrutinizes your face for almost a full thirty seconds before scrunching up her nose and nodding hesitantly. “Alright. As long as you’re sure that you can make it work… because if not, I have an option that I think you may like…”

Your eyebrows shoot to your hairline as you motion for her to continue.

“Y’know how Wanda got really into that thing a couple of years ago?”

Your brain works overtime, trying to remember exactly what it was that Wanda was doing - all you remember is that it was fairly secretive and she didn’t tell you a lot about why she kept sneaking around.

“She was seeing that older guy,” you snap your fingers when you remember, Natasha’s slow nod confirming it, and then promptly frown because-

“What does this have to do with me?” You stare directly into Natasha’s eyes as she falters, obviously wondering if it’s too late to just backtrack altogether - yes, it is - and then she sighs.

“She wasn’t just seeing him,” your best friend starts slowly, choosing her words with great care, “she was his sugar baby.”

Now, this is news to you.

“You’re fucking with me,” you scoff in disbelief. “Wanda?”

Natasha keeps nodding, blowing her bubblegum between her rouge-painted lips until it pops with a sharp snap. “I’m serious, you can go ask her. But believe me, I was just as surprised as you when she first told me-”

“She didn’t tell me,” you murmur, something akin to betrayal burning your tear ducts. Natasha only barks out a laugh and clucks her tongue at you in a decidedly motherly way.

“Of course she didn’t tell you,” the redhead snorts, shaking her head. “She didn’t want you getting any ideas,” she says your name through a laugh, “you were - what - like eighteen two years ago? That would’ve been questionable at best -”

“But you guys didn’t know that I was gonna do anything-”

“Come on, bunny,” Natasha pins you with a look that shuts you up almost immediately. “Give us some credit - we’re not dumb and we know you-”

“Fine,” you drag out the last syllable of the word childishly. “So why mention it to me now?”

“Because you’re old enough… and in a situation where your Daddy’s not paying for any of your stuff anymore.”

You tilt your head to the side, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Yeah, okay, but I’ve got, like, a lot of other opportunities that I don’t even need to work for,” you tell her cockily, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “Why should I take this one when I could get any other real job so easily?”

Natasha’s lips curve into that same smirk. “Because you’re a whore.”

You collapse into a fit of giggles but she’s right. Really and truly, you are - what you like to call - a self-proclaimed slut. But any woman who’s free enough in her sexuality seems to be one these days, so you own the title that’s been hurled at you like an insult for so many years. You wear it with pride... for the most part, but not too much pride because you still have parents who still - somehow - think you’re a total virgin.

(you are still a virgin but your promiscuity makes people think otherwise)

“Right,” you agree easily, tapping your nails on the arm of the couch.

“Just something for you to think about,” Natasha hums, checking the time on her watch before rubbing the sleeve of her white Balenciaga hoodie over her face “Now, leave me alone. I’ve gotta go get ready; I’ll see you in a few.”

Without any further conversation, she ends the call and leaves you laughing light-heartedly although something heavy continues to weigh on your conscience. A sugar daddy. You can’t lie to yourself and say that it’s something that you’ve never thought about before - because it most definitely is - and it’s been the shameless subject of some of your filthiest dreams. Are you going to lie and say that you don’t have an… affinity for older men? No, you aren’t. Are you gonna tell yourself that the idea of a man spoiling you doesn’t make heat burn in your core? Absolutely not. However, you’ve never thought of yourself as the submissive type. Your confidence - no, cockiness has always been a real defining trait for you and that’s always worked in your favor when it comes to romance or even sex. You take what you want, rather than waiting for it to come to you. Although, you have a feeling that an attitude like that could get you in a lot of trouble in circumstances like these.

But what’s life without a little danger?

—

You’ve put on a tight, cropped black t-shirt and on top, a brown Fendi mini dress with thin spaghetti straps that clings to your body like a second skin; your feet are clad in heeled Louboutin ankle boots. Grabbing your black Prada bag and almost comically giant black, square Burberry sunglasses, you stare at your reflection in the mirror. You only put on a little bit of blush, mascara, and tinted lipgloss, accessorizing with small golden hoops, an array of rings that have been gifted to you by either your father or your ex-boyfriends and a simple gold necklace that spells out ‘bunny’ in cursive, a gift from Natasha. Satisfied, you slide your sunglasses onto your face and head to the elevator, phone in hand.

When you reach the lobby, Jarvis is waiting for you, holding the door open with a kind smile on his face.

“Miss,” he greets you, ushering you out the door. You basically jump on him, winding your arms around his neck and he chuckles as you sway back and forth in your embrace.

“Afternoon, Jarvis,” you grin at him.

The two of you walk outside to the black Range Rover with the tinted windows - black matches your outfit today - and as you climb in the back, your security detail split up into the other SUVs in front and behind you.

“So, what’s the plan today?” Jarvis asks you conversationally, stopping at a red light not even 15 seconds after you pull away from the front of your apartment. Damn New York traffic.

“Nat and I are going to Nordstrom’s,” you tell him despite the fact that he already knows, but he nods regardless. “And then Peter Parker’s hosting a party tonight.”

“And will you be needing a ride to that event?”

“No thanks, J,” you shoot him a smile before looking back down at your phone. “I’ll probably get a ride with Natasha.”

Jarvis nods and the rest of the ride passes in comfortable silence, the radio playing softly and the clicking of your nails on your phone screen the only sounds in the car.

—

“There’s absolutely no way you’re wearing that-”

“Shut up, Nat!” you squeal, grabbing the dress off the rack. “It’s kinda cute!”

Your best friend rolls her eyes at you fondly, staring at the monstrosity that you’re clutching in your hands.

“Tell me you’re kidding,” she deadpans, searching your face almost desperately for any sign of sarcasm.

You act offended: “I’m not!”

Nat just pokes you in the sides, tugs on your earlobe, and continues her hunt, which makes you burst into loud laughter and leaves the store employees looking at the two of you in what you’ve come to recognize as contained, professional amusement.

—

It’s about an hour before the party starts when you even start thinking about getting ready. In a Versace robe with your hair wrapped up in a towel, you’re scrolling through Instagram with a mud mask on. Nat comes into the room and shrieks at the sight of your face, making you flick your eyes up and grin as wide as the mask lets you. With her hand over her heart, she stares at you dryly while silent little chuckles shake your whole body.

“You’re in a good mood,” she remarks, eyeing you with an air of suspicion.

“Of course I am, Nat,” you look at her in disbelief. “I’m about to get wasted tonight-”

She interrupts you by calling your name out in a warning tone. Your only response is a dramatic roll of your eyes.

“We’re going so that we can have fun, not so you can go on a bender-”

“I won’t!” you drop your phone and throw your hands up in exasperation. “Holy shit, Mom - do you have no confidence in me?!”

Loud silence hangs in the air for a minute while Nat just blinks at you.

“...remember when you left me alone in Manhattan because you went to go trip on acid with Senator Coulson’s son-”

“Oh my God, Nat, okay, I get it - I’m a shitty friend and a drug addict, blah blah blah, whatever-”

“You’re not an addict,” she corrects you. “You just... really like doing drugs.”

You shrug, stretching your arms over your head, bringing them back down and then slapping your hands loudly on the bare skin of your thighs. The sound makes Nat flinch which amuses you mildly before you yawn loudly.

“Need me to help you with anything before I start getting ready?” you offer, knowing that once you start getting ready, you’re going to be in your own little world for about an hour and a half.

Natasha - who is significantly less high-maintenance than you - shakes her head. You nod, standing up and heading into her bathroom to wash the mud off your face.

“Did you think about what I told you earlier?” she asks, following you into the spacious room to lay on the chaise tucked against the wall behind you. You lock eyes with her in the mirror as she stretches herself out like a feline.

“Yeah,” you say nonchalantly. “Just for a little, but I don’t know if that kinda thing is for me.”

She runs her tongue over her bottom lip, looking down at her nails. “Oh, okay. I was just wondering ‘cause Wanda said there would be some people that she knows are into that kinda thing at Parker’s tonight-”

Oh, now your interest is peaked. You whip around, towel still in hand from drying your face, and stare her dead in the eye.

“For real?”

“Yeah, but if you’re not really interested-”

“Shut up, Natasha, you know I’m interested.” Your heart beats fast in your chest and your teeth catch on your lower lip, gnawing on it gently. Your fingers come back up to your wrist and stretch the elastic so that it bounces back against your skin. “Like… a lot of them will be there?”

She nods, regarding you with cool interest. “At least that’s what Wanda said. She’s better versed in this whole thing than I am.”

You can only bob your head up and down, suddenly nervous about attending this party. Natasha can sense it, putting a comforting hand on your arm.

“Look, bunny, it’ll be fine,” she gives you a reassuring smile. “They’ll love you. And if you change your mind, you won’t even have to interact with them in the first place; you’ll just be like any other person attending this thing. But Wanda knows a lot of them - that should be reassuring enough: she knows all about these guys, so it’s not like she’s going to introduce us to any major creeps.”

“Okay.”

—

“Okay,” you breathe out. Okay, you can do this. You’ve met presidents and prime ministers, singers and actors, kings and queens, but you’ve never been this nervous in your entire life.

Granted, none of those people were asking you to exchange sex for money, so it’s not really the same thing.

You’re wearing Dolce & Gabbana tonight - because they asked you to - and the golden silk dress that hits your mid-thigh and hugs your body so tight that it looks as if you were poured into it makes it all worth it. It shows off all of the dips and curves of your body and paired with your Alexander Vauthier clear slingback heels and a gold Vanina pearl-embellished handbag, you feel like a million dollars (even though that’s definitely not what this outfit costs). Natasha is standing next to you in a black Dolce & Gabbana corset dress - because they asked her to - and black red bottoms.

Your long red nails come up to toy with your ‘bunny’ necklace while you scan the massive crowds for a friendly face. It’s true that between the two of you, it is very much likely that you know - or know of - everybody here. But you don’t spare them a second glance despite the fact that they’re ogling you. No, you don’t linger on the bulging muscles and impressive height nor the full lips and pretty hair like you usually do. Instead, you’re looking for-

“Wanda! ” you call out, eyes falling on her reddish-brown hair flowing down her back in loose waves.

She’s standing by the bar, speaking to someone that you don’t know when she turns around, blue eyes quickly landing on you as she gives you that charming smile. Grabbing Nat’s hand, you run over to her and envelop her in a warm embrace. She squeals loudly, stumbling back as you realize that she’s probably already had a few drinks by now.

“Hi, guys,” she greets the two of you, looking up and down at your outfits approvingly. “You look hot.”

You return the compliment and pressing a kiss to her cheek, you stroke her hair while she and Nat engage in conversation. You take the opportunity to stare at all of the different groups of people who have gathered on Peter’s rooftop. There must be at least 300 people here already - the night has barely started - and you can see not a single person who looks like an old man. You furrow your brow, squinting and pushing up on your toes to see if you can see anyone that you don’t vaguely recognize from somewhere or another.

“Lookin’ for someone?”

The voice is unmistakable.

“Peter!”

He says your name in what’s only a mildly offensive mockery of your tone. You abandon Wanda and throw yourself into the arms of the boy, ruffling his already unkempt hair and also smacking a loud kiss on his cheek. He chuckles, his arm winding around your waist as he says hello to both Wanda and Nat.

Apparently you’re in a hugging mood tonight.

“I’m glad you guys could all make it,” he smiles so sweetly that you kiss him again, his cheeks turning flaming red. Peter has always been like a little brother to you although he’s actually a year older. You both went to high school and college together, and it helps that your mother and his aunt are also really good friends.

Except you don’t know how anybody could want to be friends with your demon of a mother.

“We couldn’t miss this,” Wanda gestures around her, pinching Peter on the cheek like a child which makes him frown. “Where’s MJ, Petey?”

You all “ooh” like high schoolers and Peter’s face turns somehow even redder - your heart swells - and he takes this as his cue to leave, slipping away and mumbling something about having to greet guests like a good host. It makes you all giggle, watching the boy with fond eyes.

Wanda abruptly turns to you, downing the champagne that she picks up off of the tray of one of the passing waiters.

“So Nat told me that you’re looking for a sugar daddy-”

“Shhh!” you hiss at her, clamping your hands tightly over her mouth because oh my god, Wanda, please speak louder. This makes Natasha laugh into her own glass of champagne.“Oh my god, why are you yelling?”

“Okay,” she drags it out and rolls her eyes, leaning into your group of three and whispering exaggeratedly. “So I heard you’re looking for a sugar daddy.”

“Sure, okay,” you whisper back, looking around before standing up straight because it’s just occurred to you how sketchy you all must look huddled in a circle like this. “So like… how does this work? Do we just… go up to them? Is there like some kind of code-?”

Wanda snorts loudly, throwing her head back and laughing. Your face slips into a pout and you cross your arms over your chest.

“No, idiot,” Wanda replies, pulling a tube of lipstick and a mirror out of her clutch. She starts to apply it while speaking to you. “They’re here already, and we’ve just gotta go up to them,” she smacks her lips together with finality, “and tell them we’re interested. Or, more like you’re going up to them and we’re here for moral support.”

“What happened to your guy, Wanda?” Nat asks, signaling to the bartender for a refill.

“And how did you get into it?” you ask her, one eyebrow quirking.

She smiles conspiratorially and runs her hands carefully through her hair. “There’s an app. And Viz and I are still together-”

“Viz? ” you almost choke on your own spit because you laugh so hard. Natasha joins you in a far more respectful way, her shoulders shaking as she picks up her now-full glass. Getting literal daggers thrown at your face would’ve been less piercing than the look that Wanda’s giving you right now, so you decide to shut your mouth and listen.

“Yes,” she says your name condescendingly, which makes you roll your eyes. “His name is Vision - it’s a long, personal story that I won’t share with either of you because you both fucking suck,” she stares the two of you down, “but that’s his nickname and what everyone calls him. It’s kinda cool, you know: super contemporary. Like Madonna or Beyoncé or Cher-”

“Okay,” Natasha licks her lips, putting one of her hands on her hip. “We get it, Wanda, thanks. But you told us that you guys broke up-?”

“Yeah, we just took a break,” Wanda shrugs. “Now, we’re back together and better than ever.”

You and Nat share a look before blinking back at Wanda, nodding your heads compliantly.

“So,” you rock back on your heels and start snapping your hair tie again. “Are we gonna go do this, or?”

Wanda’s eyes drift down to your wrist before she places a hand on top of it, stilling your actions. Your eyes are wide and glossy, your teeth worrying your lip.

“What’re you nervous about?” Wanda begins quietly, rubbing circles into your skin with her thumb. “They’ll love you - they’re all super cool and really hot. I think that the only problem that you’ll have is that you’ll be spoilt for choice.”

Your laugh comes out watery but sincere nonetheless, so Wanda loops her arm through yours while Natasha grips your hand tightly.

“Maybe we should get you a drink-”

“No, Nat,” you inhale deeply. “I wanna be completely sober for this. After… after, yeah. I’m definitely gonna need a drink after.”

You all laugh while Wanda weaves you through swathes of socialites, stopping to say hello to some people. When you finally make your way all the way to the other end of the roof, you can see why you didn’t see them before. There is a set of stairs that lead down to what looks like a zen garden. Tall torches flame a collection of very comfortable-looking couches are placed around a stone firepit and on top of those couches are a group of some of the most handsome men that you’ve ever laid eyes on.

The first one to make eye contact with you is astoundingly attractive, so much so that you almost trip over your own feet. You know- you can just tell that he smells incredible. His mahogany skin shines in the light of the fire, and his full lips curve over a gap-toothed smile that he shoots your way; it immediately makes a smile of your own spread on your face. His beard is lined up to perfection and there’s a mischievous sparkle in his whiskey brown eyes. A little bit of his chest hair pokes out from underneath the top of his almost halfway-unbuttoned dress shirt and your mouth waters. You almost feel sorry for the slacks that are hugging his thighs sinfully tight because his powerful legs look like they’re about to burst through the seams.

You decide that you’ve never wanted to be a pair of pants so badly in your life.

Jesus Christ. These men aren’t even close to what I expected.

All you can say is that you’re glad to see that the same caliber of attractiveness holds up for the rest of them.

The man next to him has longer brunette hair that hits his shoulders and you just want to run your hands through the silky strands. He has a bit more of a rugged look, his facial hair groomed purposely to give off that energy. He’s wearing a tight, long-sleeve black shirt and black slacks too, the monochrome outfit highlighting every inch of his well-toned body. When you look at him, he’s staring down into his glass, the sweetest smile on his face that makes you bite the inside of your cheek. But then he looks up at you, and you’re taken aback by the vibrance of his steel-blue eyes. It stops your breath momentarily, and you have time to regain it when he taps the man next to him on the knee and points towards the three of you.

The man in question raises his head, face shielded partially by a pair of yellow-tinted glasses. His blonde hair is slicked back away from his face, and you take a second to admire his prominent bone structure. But he’s looking right past you, eyes boring holes into Wanda which makes you stop your ogling.

You assume that this must be Vision.

There’s one of the men who isn’t facing you and doesn’t even turn around to do so, but you can make out his extremely broad shoulders clad in a white t-shirt even from where you stand a distance away. Even the back of his head is attractive, his thick neck and pushed-back blonde hair. Wanda tugs on your arm impatiently, evidently eager to reach her man.

The three of you linked together almost fall down the stairs before you regain your collective composures and strut over there with all the confidence that you don’t feel. Wanda lets you and Nat go when you draw closer, fixing her hair before the brightest grin that you’ve ever seen on her face shines at Vision. He opens his arms to greet her and you have to look away because of the very much x-rated kiss that she plants on him: you feel like you’re intruding on something.

“Jesus,” Nat snorts in your ear, her hand still resting in yours. This makes you giggle, high-pitched and nervously, so Nat squeezes your hand before she pulls you forwards.

Wanda has situated herself in the lap of her man, his hand resting gently on her hip. She clears her throat, cheeks red from her public display of affection, and begins to speak.

“Hi, guys,” she says, waving and smiling at all the men politely. They all greet her back warmly, raising their hands too. “These are my best friends. This is Nat,” she gestures to the girl next to you and Nat just nods her head in acknowledgment.

“And this is the friend I told you about,” Wanda introduces you by name to the four men who she points at in turn: “Bunny, this is Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes, Vision, and Steve Rogers.”

Giving a little awkward wave of your hand, you unglue your eyes from the floor and scan all of the men up close now.

They’re all so much prettier up close.

From this distance, you can now clearly see how pretty Sam’s eyes are, how bright Bucky’s smile is, how strong Vision’s jaw is, and-

Holy shit.

It’s obvious that you must’ve died and gone to heaven some time in these past few minutes because Adonis’ blue eyes are scorching holes into your face. His high-neck white long sleeve sweater is probably in his size but the way that his muscles flex under the material is telling you otherwise. The size of his biceps - probably as big as your head - briefly make you wonder what they would feel like wrapped around your neck-

If you stare hard enough at his pecs - which you are - you can see the hard peaks of his nipples; you decide that there’s something so sensual about that and if that alone didn’t just make you wet, you decide that you can’t be human. The sweater is tucked into grey checkered pants with a black Yves Saint Laurent belt wrapped around his surprisingly narrow waist. He’s leaning back in his seat with his huge hands on his thighs, his strong legs spread wide almost an invitation for you to crawl between them. Your eyes move past his clearly tailored pants to his huge feet clad in black Versace loafers and you can feel the liquid that pools in your cunt. Realizing that you’re shamelessly checking this poor man out, your eyes snap up to his face only to have the breath completely knocked out of you, not for the first time tonight.

Not only is his body complete perfection, but his face is also arguably even better. His defined jawline gives you the urge to run your tongue over it but that beard. Your squeeze your thighs together because you want to know how it feels between your thighs. His ears are perfectly proportional to his head - a characteristic that should never be underestimated, mind you - and his cheekbones are high. But you can’t ignore the fullness nor the rosy pigmentation of his lips - his lower lip is fuller than the top and you wanna bite it so bad and he’s smirking a little. When you finally lock eyes with him, you feel as if you’re drowning but admittedly even if you were, you wouldn’t mind doing so in the blue of his irises. They darken slightly when they train onto yours, and one of his perfect eyebrows lifts questioningly.

This whole interaction has only lasted about five seconds but it feels like you’re in a movie, everything moving in slow motion. He stands up abruptly and you do actually choke at his size, his sheer height and width alone soaking your panties. One hand in his pocket, he takes slow, measured steps until he stands directly in front of you, not even sparing a glance at Natasha.

“Bunny, huh?” you pray that your knees won’t give out at his deep baritone and you can’t take your eyes away from his, even when he sticks out his hand. “Nice to meet you. Steve Rogers.”

tagged: @literaturefeen @donutloverxo @evnscvll @stargazingfangirl18

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers blurb #steve rogers blurbs #steve rogers headcanons #steve rogers headcanon #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers imagines #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fanfiction #sugar daddy au #soft dark steve rogers

530 notes · View notes

incorrectlumityquotes · 3 years

Text

FULL REVIEWS: “Lost In Language”

Lost in language and I don't know much. Was I thinking aloud and fell out of touch? But I'm back on my feet and eager to be what you wanted.

Seriously? Nothing? You guys have never heard Air Supply? I mean, they’re old AF but still. It’s a funny pun. Whatever.

Back in the day (like it was so long ago) I didn’t know what to expect from this episode. The only thing I caught from the description was library, but hoo boy, we got so much more!

I love the cold opens to this show. It always reminds me that Luz is a silly ass hyper fangirl who still wants life to play out like it does on TV.

“Learning about love and life through the eyes of a child.”

Spoken like a true person who have never done any actual babysitting. The Bat Queen gets her own soft intro for another episode, which I’m noticing more and more re-watching this show. She pays Eda to watch her baby in exchange for a butt-ton of money. Eda, in classic Eda fashion, would rather not split the cash with Luz and gives her an errand to run so she doesn’t have to do it.

I don’t know about you guys, but liked going to the library when I was a kid. It was the only way I could play computer games or go on the internet. Getting online is the easiest thing in the world today, but when I was a kid, it was a luxury my parents couldn’t afford. And dumb-dumb kid me didn’t know that you can borrow movies and comic for free at the library too. That’s how I saw Jaws for the first time.

The library at The Boiling Isles is almost exactly what I expected. Kinda like the Hogwarts library, but with a lot more teeth and eyes everywhere. Luz has a bunch of fun just messing around, until she stumbles upon the cutest goddamn thing ever!

Amity reading to kids at the public library in her free time. My god.

I’m with Luz here. Holy hell, I did not see that coming. I thought Amity was the rival character, the Draco Malfoy of the show, the reluctant ally, the jerk with the heart of gold DEEP in there somewhere. Instead she’s at the Kid’s Corner reading her favorite childhood classic to toddlers. I didn’t know there were angels in the demon realm.

Stop. Stop! You’re already cute.

Seriously this moment made me go “aw” and laugh at the same time. It was weird. Also how does this library have a manga section? Do they import these books from JAPAN in the HUMAN REALM? Is there a publishing company that acts as the middleman? Or are these just the books that the trash slugs ended up barfing on the beach somewhere? I’m thinking too hard about a throwaway joke in the background. Big brain hurt.

AND back to reality...

Luz tries to extend the hand of friendship to Amity and Amity rejects it. I have...thoughts.

First, they this up with another parallel to Azura in the beginning of the episode. I get it. It’s a theme that they are doing, but I would have rather have Luz try to befriend Amity because she wants to, not because Azura did it. It’s not the only reason she does it, but it does kinda bug me a bit. It kinda goes back to Luz wanting life to play out like a story.

Also, a part of me thinks that this is something Amity likes to do alone. Her way of getting away from everyone else and just do something that she enjoys and makes her feel good. We have no proof that it gives her extra credit, so she could just use that as a way to save face. She seemed so happy to do it too.

Finally, you know what this else this reminds me of? The Karate Kid and Cobra Kai. There’s a popular fan theory that has been around since the eighties that if you look at The Karate Kid from the rival’s perspective, the protagonist is the bully. I’m more than sure that’s what going on here. From Amity’s perspective, Luz just gets her into trouble. We’ll get more into that later.

Luz walks off dejected and we get the second big surprise to punch me in the face.

Holy hell, why the fuck are you two so goddamn fucking pretty? I mean, holy shit, look at these two. My god. And ERICA LINDBECK as Emira? Jesus Christ, I’m going to be feeling things I shouldn’t be feeling in places I can’t say!

Joking aside, we get one of our first full introductions that didn’t come with a soft intro from a previous episode. Enter Emira and Emira, Amity’s older siblings who in true sibling fashion like to give Amity a hard time.

“Hey, mittens!”

This seems normal at first. Siblings always rib each other. No big deal.

Amity storms off. The twins introduce themselves proper to Luz (and the audience) and they mess around for a bit.

In fact, they have so much fun messing around with Luz that they decide to invite her back afterhours to check out The Wailing Star. Luz thinks that this is a great way to get on Amity’s good side by befriending her siblings. Why she would think this I have no idea.

Meanwhile the B-plot continues its adventures in babysitting. I don’t like using the word filler (so I won’t) but this B-plot is really just for two things: setting up Escape of the Palisman and jokes. It does both. No harm, no foul.

Also the twins said for Luz to meet back at midnight and Luz was at The Owl House for like a hot second. There’s like a huge gap of time there. What did she do until midnight? Whatever. If it was important it would have been animated.

Also also, I love all of Luz’s little saying in this episode. She does it a lot but they cranked it up in this episode. Featuring great hits like:

“This sour lemon drop has a hidden sweet center.”

and

“I thought we were as cool as cucumbers but we’re as sour as pickles.”

and my favorite

“Call me a library book because they were checking me out.”

I hope they keep doing that.

Back at the literal Wailing Star (I laughed so hard), The twins and Luz discover that The Wailing Star brings the content of the books to life. Does that work for all books in The Boiling Isles or just the library? Enough. No more big brain. The three proceed to...mess around some more.

The twins discover offscreen (Really? Really.) that if you edit the contents of the book, you change what comes to life. Then the twins reveal their true objectives. Apparently, Amity has been tattling on the twins whenever they cut class or do whatever it is that they want. They’ve decided to look for her secret little hideaway (that they somehow know is in the library), find her diary and post all the pages all over school to teach her a lesson.

Um, fucking no.

And here we enter the true lesson of this episode and probably the reason why Hecate is draw with two faces. People being more than just what they appear to be at face value.

Amity appears to be the bully character of the show, and while she did bully Willow, Luz and King, there’s more to her than that. Amity is lonely. As a fellow person who grew up lonely, trust me. I can tell from a mile away. She puts pressure on herself to be the best at whatever she’s doing and to be the best. She hates that she follows the rules but people like her siblings seem to get rewarded for breaking the rules and doing whatever they want free of consequence. She sees the double standard that they live by and it angers her. But at the same time, everyone seems to give the twins a free pass so she can’t do anything about it.

Even worse, there’s no one for her to confide in. It wouldn’t make it better but it would make it easier for her to just vent and get the bullshit out of her brain. She doesn’t like her friends and the one friend she did like...that’s for another episode. Hence, the diary. Amity is a big ball of frustration and loneliness. I know because I grew up in a very similar way.

When you’re forced to keep your anger inside you, you lash out at any little thing that bothers you just to ease your frustrations. It doesn’t make it okay but it’s the only way to cope sometimes just to get by.

The twins on the other hand seem like everything you’d want in a friend. They’re fun; they like you; they’re attractive; they’re attentive. But in reality, they live in a world where they believe consequences and accountability don’t apply to them. And they’ll do anything to keep it that way. Even humiliate their sister.

Luz seems like a happy-go-lucky, friends to all things kinda person, but she can also be innocently insensitive. She just does things hoping they turn out the way they would for Azura without considering how the people around her would feel about it.

It doesn’t make any of these characters two-faced. We just are different things to different people.

Amity discovers what’s going down and Luz (being the empathic person that she is) decide to try to go talk to her.

Then I’m reminded that this is a horror-comedy.

My god, you’re ugly.

One climax later (don’t laugh), and Luz and Amity try to make amends with each other. They both have to think about how they’ve been treating the other, earning the title of bully or not. They’re not friends yet but this is...better.

FINAL SCORE: 5 - Loved it.

Damn, The Owl House is one a roll. That’s what? Three 5 scored episodes already? Hot damn. This episode was fun but it really hit hard with the character work on Amity. She quickly became one of the most interesting characters and a fan favorite. And the third act provided a good amount of horror to call this a horror comedy. The B-plot is fine but probably one of the weakest only saved by several funny jokes. This is one of those episodes I kept coming back to and a favorite to watch.

Could you two please not? I’m gonna get in trouble.

#the owl house #my works #full review #full reviews

86 notes · View notes

m-y-fandoms · 4 years

Text

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu x reader (fluff + angst) - (COMMISSION)

When I get a commission that isn’t Danganronpa related, I keep the client’s name private and switch names and some paragraphs around to fit a Danganronpa character so you all can enjoy it. This commission best fit Fuyuhiko’s personality, so here you are - Admin Kokichi

SFW, gender-neutral reader

I walked through the halls of Hope’s Peak Academy, still toweling off my scalp after a shower in the gym’s locker room. Heavily I sighed, thankful for the much-needed sustenance that was soon to come when I finally reached the cafeteria. Sport after sport, activity after activity, it really wore the body out. Hope’s Peak really stressed the importance of the Ultimate-level students honing their skills. That’s why we were there, after all. Yes, we took general education classes like any normal student, the basics like the many different types of mathematics, general art, history, government, sciences and all that, but each student in the Main Course had several hours a day blocked out of their schedule dedicated to their specific talent and that talent only. It was rigorous, obsessive, and exhausting.

At times like this, I envied those who sat down for their talent, like animators and gamers, for I, the Ultimate Athlete, was always on my feet. Not that I’m saying art and gaming don’t take a lot out of those students, I just wanted a break from physical exertion once and awhile. My brain wasn’t stimulated quite as much as I’d like. Even the other athletes, like Aoi Asahina, the Ultimate Swimmer, and Akane Owari, the Ultimate Gymnast, had one set training area, and trained one sport for long sessions during the school day. As the all around Ultimate Athlete, the administration of Hope’s Peak had me training lots of different sports and exercise methods in short bursts. This meant running across campus from the pool to the dojo, from the gym to the baseball field, from the wrestling mat to the biking trails. Every day, a different muscle was sore, but I suppose I can’t really complain. It is an honor to be selected to attend Hope’s Peak. I mean, there were hundreds of regular students paying extraordinary rates to attend, just to be mocked and berated for being Reserve Course students anyway. I was lucky to have been chosen as the Ultimate Athlete at all, considering they already had so many types of athletes here. I think the appeal of my talent was that instead of being the best at one sport alone, I was above average at every single sport there was. Well, there was no use wasting time dwelling on my burnt-out body, because immediately after lunch, I was expected back at the gym with no delay. The longer this walk took, the less time I had to eat.

Picking up the pace, I sprinted - something I excelled at - through the courtyard that connected the Reserve Course and Main Course wings for what was a well-known shortcut to the cafeteria. Reaching the other side, I slowed my pace, my eyes landing on a curious scene that caught my attention. Three Reserve Course girls - distinguishable by the ash-black of their identical uniforms as opposed to the customizable (and optional) Ultimate uniforms - were whispering in hushed tones in front of one of the cream-colored pillars of the courtyard surrounded by some well-tended flowers. They trembled slightly, a bit jittery it seemed, and were clearly gossiping profusely like the gaggle of hens they resembled. There was malice and fear in their expressions as they looked back and forth from the object of their scrutiny then back to each other to deliberate and discuss. My eyes followed their line of sight to the opposite side of the courtyard, where the pond and benches sat. Of course, it was him. How did I not notice him as I passed by from that end? I must have been in some hurry.

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu, the Ultimate Yakuza, sat on the ground leaned up against a wall on the opposite side of the courtyard, scrawling notes into a notebook in his lap. His brow was creased, fairly engrossed in his studies. I could tell he heard the girls chattering, they weren’t being subtle and weren’t very far away, but Fuyuhiko was paying them no mind.

“Do you think his dad threatens the teachers if they give him a bad grade?” A blonde gasped, as if the thought had just occurred to her.

“Probably, I wouldn’t put anything past that clan of brutes,” another plain-looking girl whimpered in reply.

I stopped to watch the situation play out, hiding behind a nearby pillar and ready to step in if it continued, as rumor-spreading bullies were something that I just couldn’t stand by any means. I knew Fuyuhiko could handle himself… err… maybe I was just being a bit nosey to be honest.

After a few more minutes of the clique getting louder and bolder with their insultingly toxic babble, I saw Fuyuhiko’s head snap up, throwing them a pointed glare. The flock gasped in unison, with looks of horror on their faces, and scrambled away past me and into the hall. I smirked merrily: now that reaction was the more typical one. I was just thinking how brave these girls must have been to be provoking a Kuzuryuu in the first place. Many people in the school, and just the country in general were terrified of them. I myself felt a bit indifferent about Fuyuhiko. He was in my home room and never caused trouble.

The Kuzuryuu Clan was the largest and most powerful Yazuka clan in the country, with ties to national governments, huge drug rings, and a hand in many influential corporations throughout the country. People knew to fear them and not to mess with them, like any gang. Fuyuhiko was the only son of the head of the clan, and next in line as its leader, but if you’d spoken more than two words to the guy, you’d see that it was wise to respect him, but there was no need to fear him. In fact, his little sister Natsumi, who terrorized the Reserve Course girls, probably was the reason Fuyuhiko’s reputation around the school was smeared by association. People saw her bitterness, her jealousy, her need to harass or threaten anyone who she felt inferior to, her horrible attitude, and probably transferred that fear over to her older brother, thinking the siblings must be similar. It was just ridiculous. If anything, he was an asshole at times, but not dangerous.

Plus, how could someone be afraid of a guy who looked like that? Fuyuhiko was both adorable in some ways, and handsome in others. His cute side came out through in his meager height, the way his pale skin blushed easily when flustered, the softness of his blonde hair, the small pout he wore at times. He didn’t even have ink yet like most Yazuka. His skin was milky and untouched. On the other side of the spectrum, he was handsome and manly in the way he spoke, the elegance of his expensive suits and ties, his intelligence, the way he carried himself, his sharp and intense gaze. I always thought it was more reasonable to be attracted to him rather than afraid.

He did have a bit of an attitude problem, but I often felt bad for him because of it. The quipping, feisty exterior he presented was clearly a coping mechanism, a method of self-defense after years of pressure to be a pillar of his family and being misunderstood by his peers. It probably wasn’t easy to be expected to watch or even perform drug deals, interrogations, or even murders - who knows? Then after all of that, you come back into normal society and get judged for being tiny with a baby face behind your back while people are scared of you to your face.

He projected the anger he was taught was normal, and used the years of being raised in the Yakuza to adapt and mold his personality. He often cursed out or blew up at others, was stubborn and hard to work with, did his own thing, and despite how well he thought he hid her, his personal bodyguard being around the corner ready to kick someone’s ass at a moment's notice deterred many potential friendships. Most of our home room were friends with him, but I rarely talked to him. I really only made myself known to a few of the quieter kids in our class like Komaeda and Tsumiki, even Peko herself at times… but other than them I mainly kept to myself.

I just wished…. he’d talk to me first. I was desperate to get to know him without the fear of feeling like I was bothering him.

Ok, so maybe I wasn’t as indifferent as I let on before. Now that I’ve given myself away, I suppose I’ll just say it:

Yes, I was a bit biased on the topic of Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu because… I had a massive crush on him.

And it was hard, so very hard to see him in class everyday, at the dorms, around campus, and not be able to make those feelings known. I couldn’t tell if it was fear of judgment, fear of rejection, fear of him just cussing me out until I pissed myself, maybe a mix of all three? But now we were alone… save for Peko, who was undoubtedly spying from somewhere close by. Why should I care what anyone thinks? I was sure he’d never tell anyone if he rejected me anyway. He wasn’t the gossiping type, and he only told people what he needed them to hear. Steadying myself, I took a deep breath and stepped out from behind the decorative colonnade. As I shakily stepped across the grass, lunch became the last thing on my mind, and I approached him. He didn’t even look up until I began to speak, cowardice lining my tone.

“H-hey,” I mumbled, towering above him like some weirdo. He squinted in suspicion, a small pout settling onto his lips as he silently acknowledged me. “Are you studying?!” I yelled more than spoke, my nerves taking hold. He rolled his eyes, holding the notebook up with one hand. I couldn’t help scanning him, taking in the way the sun bounced off the yellow fluff of his buzz cut, the way his chest heaved slowly, the cute little mole under his bottom lip. I was sweating, wondering if Peko would knock me out for getting too close, but also entranced in his hazel eyes.

“What does it look like?” He huffed, irritated by my very presence. He probably came out hime to be alone, after all. Now he had to deal with me right after those insufferable girls.

“Ah, haha, yeah, well anyway, I wanted to say that those girls were obnoxious and wrong. You shouldn’t let their words get to you. They’re meaningless. Y-you shouldn’t care about what they think. I-” I spoke quickly, nervously, and he parried my words instantly, tired of me wasting his precious time.

“I don’t give a shit what they think. Since you’re such a fuckin’ creep and were apparently watching the whole time, you must have seen me scare them off, yeah? I obviously don’t care, and I don’t need some rando to come give me a fuckin’ pep talk! What do I look like to you, some fuckin’ kid that got his feelings hurt by some bullies? Fuck those bitches and fuck you! If that’s all you had to say, get lost,” he spat, and I flinched backwards. He was feeling vulnerable, and biting back was the only thing she knew, like an abused dog lashing out at its rescuers. I knew not to take it personal, that Fuyuhiko sometimes said things he didn’t mean out of anger. I knew all of this, but I was still taken aback and thoroughly intimidated. Almost as soon as he’d snapped at me, he settled back into his calm studying, opening the notebook again. That was Fuyuhiko, a little ball of rage that could be turned on and off like a switch.

“Well, I, um-” I cut off my own words, swiftly turning on my heel and marching out of the courtyard, clutching my bag like it could save me from this humiliation.

“Fuck… I’m such an idiot.” I shook my head, involuntarily replaying my blunderous attempt to ask Fuyuhiko out in my head over and over again. Could it even be called that? I mean, I didn’t even get to the asking out part before I made a complete fool of myself and pissed him off. I was now rushing through the corridors of the first floor, trying to make it to what was my last class of the day after a very short lunch and some extremely demanding training. The gardening class was mainly unsupervised and casual, but I hated the feeling of being technically late nonetheless.

The term “class” is used loosely hime. At Hope’s Peak, each student was required to choose an elective course that “gave back” to the community or school in some way. It was thought to boost the school’s reputation, along with the student’s resume. That was the sentiment the school held, anyway. Some students volunteered at local retirement homes, some, like the eccentric Gundham Tanaka, lead clubs that tended to rescue animals and raised them. Others tutored exchange students in Japanese, some did maintenance around the school to earn the credit. I chose the gardening club, where students would break up into little groups and tend to all the plants, flowers, grass, vegetable gardens, and courtyards on and around campus. Sometimes we even took “field trips” to tend to other local greenery. I found it to be the most calming and quiet option of all the electives. There was very little human interaction, and it was satisfying to see the (literal) fruits of your labor grow.

Today I would be tending to the garden in the secondary courtyard behind the school. This one was more hidden away, rarely ever used, and that’s what I loved about it. But… as I turned the corner, my box of gardening supplies in hand, I froze dead in my tracks, shuffling back to hide behind the cover of the wall.

Fuyuhiko was sitting there on his hands and knees, pruning weeds from the garden. The coat of his uniform was discarded, and she sat in only his slacks and a button up dress shirt with a tie. He had little towels folded up as make-shift knee padding, green gloves on, and was leaning into his work with such fervor.

What?! I screamed internally, panic taking hold of me. I had been a member of the gardening club for months, and not once had I seen him on the class roster or in rotation. I’d been to every station, been assigned every task at least once, and I’d never been paired with him. So of course, on the day I was thoroughly humiliated in front of him, here he was, ruining what was supposed to be the most relaxing part of my day. I considered leaving, simply lying about my hour of gardening time on the school’s check-in portal, but something in me told me to stay. I sat there, fighting with myself, nearly collapsing with anxiety, and then he began to speak, tearing my from my thoughts:

“Now now, how are you gonna grow big and strong if you keep lettin’ these little punks fuck you up like this…?” He huffed, almost fatherly in his tone. I peeked around the corner, wondering who the hell he was talking to. Maybe this shift wouldn’t be so awkward with a third party to distract me from him, I thought, but when I hazarded a glance, not a soul was in sight, save Fuyuhiko. Taking a closer look, I noticed his calloused hands nestled around the leaf of a plant, and he tsk’d, observing the bite marks left by pestiferous insects and small animals. He was talking to the plant?! My cheeks started to warm up, my heart melting at the realization.

Fuyuhiko began to hum, then to sing softly, a lullaby of sorts for this injured little green darling. Holding my breath, I nearly crumpled against the wall, feeling my flush spread from my cheeks to rush throughout my entire body. This is so fucking cute, I thought to myself, glancing once more, perhaps a bit riskily. I was getting greedy, greedy for even a glimpse of seeing him in the state of happiness I knew he deserved. I couldn’t care less if Peko was sneaking up behind me with a bamboo sword at the ready.

When I looked, he was smiling, truly smiling. I’d never seen him smile like that before, a smile birthed out of an innocent and serene joy, and now I never wanted it to stop. There was no way I was turning back now.

I took a few steps back down the hall, then stomped loudly toward the courtyard, allowing him to save face by thinking I had only just approached. I knew I would be in for quite the sour retaliation if he knew I had caught him singing. He may have even gotten up and left. He looked up, still leaned over his plants but now dead silent as I entered, and when he realized who I was, his breath caught in his throat. Another expression I rarely saw from him: one of being caught off guard.

“Hey… so, I didn’t know you were in the gardening club? I’ve been in it since the start and I’ve never seen you.” I set down my box next to him and pulled out some gloves. I was hoping that acting like earlier never happened was the best course of action. Something can’t be awkward if it doesn’t exist, right? Luckily, he played along… or rather, just didn’t bring it up, either.

“Uh, yeah. I was hoping to avoid all the bullshit of the whole, volunteer-but-not -actually-because-it’s-a-requirement class thing altogether. I just don’t have time for this shit, but my academic advisor caught on and forced me into gardening. It was the last one with spots left open…” he grumbled, as if he weren’t absolutely loving it mere moments ago.

“Huh… and they aren’t penalizing you for, you know, losing all those points from the first few months you missed?” I inquired bravely. Maybe those girls were right earlier about his father threatening professors…?

“Nah, I guess not. My advisor is super chill. She worked something out…”

“That’s lucky…” my words trailed off, and we both got to work. The longer the silence grew, the more the awkward energy imposed itself on both of us. I could tell that he was thinking back to our earlier encounter by the way he made eye contact and quickly snatched his gaze away, the way she would open his mouth then close it without a hesitant word.

Half an hour passed, and my nerves were beginning to stand on edge. What was more daunting than being alone with your crush? Being alone with your crush who verbally ripped you a new one that same day.

Now mere inches away from him, focusing in on the same patch of flowers, we both reached for a small watering can at the same time, and our hands touched briefly, fleetingly before he snatched his own back, a shade of pink dusting his soft cheeks. He turned away, embarrassed, but I couldn’t have been more excited by the small interaction. Still, for both our sakes, I felt the need to break the silence.

“You… you seem happier - now, I mean… as opposed to earlier today…” It was time to bring up the elephant in the room. I saw his body tense up, his spine stiffen, and he turned to face me, dirt staining his forearms and a swipe on his cheek where he’d scratched an itch earlier.

“Yeah… I should probably apologize for that, bein’ a dick and all. I was just, really pissed and stressed. I shouldn’t have attacked you like that… it’s just… those stupid, loud-mouth, air-headed-” I saw his fists clench, his gloves squeaking a bit under the pressure. I continued where he left off, not wanting him to force himself to relive the gossip or the anger attached to it.

“It’s fine, seriously. I get it. There will always be assholes like them in the world. I don’t blame you for being upset. Besides, I’m sure it was weird to have a stranger just approach you like that, trying to give you unsolicited advice and bothering you by-”

“Well, you’re not really a stranger, are you? I’ve seen you around plenty of times… and you’re in my home room.” He spoke reluctantly, clearly fighting against the compulsory need to deflect and defend.

“O-oh, yeah, you are. I didn’t think you’d notice.” I felt my heart rate speed up. Of course I’d seen him many times in the back of the classroom, but I had no idea he’d given me even a first glance, much less a second one.

“Of course I noticed. Sports, right? Exercise, fitness, an’ all that?” He nodded, smirking. God, he was so hot… I didn’t know how to contain my excitement. I was trying my best.

“Yeah, exactly. Sports, exercise, fitness. That’s me.” I chuckled a bit, finding myself more and more drawn to him with every second spent in his presence.

“Shit’s cool. I can respect someone who’s disciplined and keeps in shape. I’ve seen a few of your games,” he let slip.

“You have?” I immediately picked it up, a shiver of anticipation running over my skin and setting my pores on fire. Fuyuhiko wasn’t on any of the teams I played for and his Ultimate talent had nothing to do with sports. He wasn’t the type to go watch a sports game for fun, and didn’t have the free time for it anyway.

My eyes widened slowly, and I’m sure he could see the moment I made the connection deep inside myself almost as soon as I’d made it.

That was the day I realized that Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu liked me back.

An obscene shade of red flooded onto his face and his nose scrunched up, his voice cracking as he spoke:

“Stop starin’ at me like that! The fuck’s wrong with you?!”

202 notes · View notes

sunflowerandco · 3 years

Text

After the Fact: Act VII - The First of Three

Hey everyone :) here's another chapter, and we're back in present times. i wanted to thank Andy@straighttxhell for being a bilingual queen and helping me with the Spanish dialogue in this chapter you saved me!!

I hope you all enjoy <3

Courtney had her head buried in her textbook when she heard Duncan arrive home from work. She didn't mean to sound defeated in her delivery. "Oh, good. You're home."

He headed toward her study nook. "Missed me that much? What's wrong, Princess?" He questioned her, her look of frustration apparent on her face.

"I just can't get past this scenario in my textbook for my criminal law class."

"Sounds like my thing."

Courtney scoffed. "Hardly..." Duncan looked at her in utmost offense. "Oh, don't get offended. I just consider you...retired."

"That's more like it. I retired for a life in peace with my lady."

Courtney agreed playfully to appease him. "Yes, definitely." He leaned down, pecking her on her lips.

"But, yeah, what was the problem-thing?"

She turned her head over her shoulder to explain the dilemma, eventually turning the chair toward him. "Basically, they're asking me if this scenario requires prosecution: Person A shoots Person B in an attempt to kill them. However, Person B was already dead before Person A pulls the trigger. My question is: where does the line between motive and convenience become blurred? When does the defendant become a total liability for the damage done?"

Duncan hadn't felt this lost since he attended his Pre-Calculus class on accident. All he knew was that he has been referred to as 'defendant' a couple times in his life. "Well, the defendant could still be a good liar."

"...What?"

"You said he'd become a liability? But, how could that mess up his ability to lie?"

She closed her eyes as she tried to make sense of his statement. "Duncan... that has to be the most incoherent thing I've ever heard you say." She shamefully side-eyed to herself. "Why was that so hot?"

"Oh?" He smirked, egging her on. He still had no idea what he was talking about, but he liked flustering her in any way he could. He couldn't keep a straight face as he continued on. "I'm serious, babe! I've been a defendant enough times to know about lying abilities."

Courtney shook her head slowly, unbuttoning her shirt, but didn't let it fall. "That was so stupid. Fuck me."

Courtney never had to say those words more than once. They became one, an unconstrained, vocal Courtney flush against the wall with her legs wrapped around Duncan's waist clawing at his back.

***

Courtney groaned at the very last task she and Bridgette needed to complete: setting the table for the dinner both her and Duncan's parents were invited to in celebration of their engagement. A good amount of time had passed since the news broke. But, it was still an opportunity for everyone to meet and spend some time together.

"I'm just so freaking tired. I couldn't get out of bed this morning." Courtney handed the other end of the table cloth to Bridgette. "Duncan had to carry me to the shower."

Bridgette and Courtney lifted the cloth into the air, one losing sight of the other. Bridgette spoke as it slowly rested on top of the table. "Is he really that good?" She smirked as she smoothed out the edges with her hands.

"Please. Like his ego could use any more inflation..." Bridgette still waited for an answer, making Courtney give in. "Yes. But, he never tires me out to that point."

"Maybe you've been too stressed lately?"

"I suppose so. Planning this dinner, getting our families to come together all on the same day sure did wear us the hell out." They were done setting the table when Courtney raised the question. "Are you sure you don't wanna stay for dinner?"

"I'd love to, but..."

"But?!"

"I'm starting my fertility treatment today. Geoff and I have been trying for over a year, and we need the extra help."

Courtney pulled her into a hug. "I hope everything goes well. You know I love you. If you need to talk about anything, I'm here."

Bridgette took in her words before changing the subject. "Thank you. I love you, too, Court. So, what about you guys?"

"What about us?"

"You know... have you and Duncan talked about babies?"

She and Bridgette each sat on a dining chair in unison; Courtney sighed louder than she meant to in exhaustion. "I mean of course! But, I have this three year plan: finish law school, become a prosecutor, get married, and move out all in three years."

"That's quite the plan."

"Oh, that's nothing. I haven't even gotten to the two-year within the three-year plan."

"You have a plan for your plan?" Bridgette's head spun trying to wrap her head around Courtney's obsession with organization. "Never mind, the word's lost its meaning."

***

After their parents had done their formal introductions to each other, they settled into their seats for dinner. Besides story exchanging and pleasant conversation, Courtney had to deal with an occasional all-knowing stare from her mother. She tried her best to ignore it for the sake of a successful dinner. She was also coping with the fact that she was still hungry after eating her serving.

"Are you gonna finish that, babe?"

"Uh... no. Here, take it."

She smiled, scraping the last of Duncan's pasta on her plate. "Thank you. I just haven't eaten all day."

Courtney's mother called from across the table. "Can you help me with something in the kitchen, honey?"

Courtney nodded, getting up from her seat. They walked in together while her mother pulled her into a closer corner of the kitchen, speaking in a hushed tone.

"¿Por qué no me dijiste?"

Why didn't you tell me?

Courtney gave her a confused look, encouraging her to explain further.

"Que estás embarazada."

That you're pregnant.

Courtney furrowed her brows at her incredulous statement. "Qué? ¡No estoy embarazada!"

What? I'm not pregnant!

"Conozco a mi hija."

I know my daughter.

"Mamá! No digas tonterías!"

Mom, stop talking nonsense!

"No tienes que creerme. Pero aléjate de la champaña."

You don't have to believe me but stay away from the champagne.

Courtney rolled her eyes as Duncan walked into the kitchen.

"Everything okay in here?"

"Sí, mi amor- yes, everything's fine. Mamá just wanted me to take out this stack of plates."

"They're too heavy, cariño-"

Courtney widened her eyes and spoke through gritted teeth, signaling for her mother to stop this in front of Duncan. "I got it."

They all returned to their seats with Courtney demanding everything to be resumed to normal without her mother's theories.

***

Courtney stood in front of the mirror assembling her outfit for her very first mock trial. While she still struggled with her energy level hitting a new low, Courtney had been looking forward to this assignment for weeks. She brought out her favorite suit jacket and skirt to match, trying to slip it on with ease when she hit a snag at the button on her waist. Courtney tried her hardest to slip the button through until it eventually popped, landing on the floor.

"Goddamn it!"

Duncan called from the hallway as he approached their bedroom. "What happened?"

"My favorite skirt... I popped the damn button. I must've gained some weight." Courtney knew it was nearly impossible to stay the same weight she was five years ago, but was still sad to see her skirt go.

Duncan shamelessly eyed her backside. "Maybe there are consequences for havin' a fatty."

Courtney sighed defeatedly. "Now what am I gonna wear?" He gingerly held her by the waist, his arms wrapping around her torso, and eyed her through the mirror when he reassured her. "You would look amazing in anything, babe."

A smile crept the corner of her lips as she held the hands he wrapped around her. He let her go after pecking her on the cheek and she settled for a newer pantsuit that aligned with her figure. She was seconds away from heading out the door when Duncan called out to her; she only used her head to turn back to him.

"Hey! You forgot something."

"What?"

His hand swiftly slapped her ass and she yelped. She would've kicked him if she wasn't already about to miss her train.

"I'm going to kill you later!"

"I love you, too, Princess!"

***

She figured if she distributed her energy into the testimonies she'd ace the mock trial with flying colors.

Her body had other plans by the end of the trial.

Courtney tried to muster up the energy she had to give her mock closing argument. She used her arms to lift her up from the chair and she sauntered to the fake jury.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, the evidence lays out right in front of you: the bloodied bat, motive, and an eyewitness that places the defendant right at the crime scene. Do not let Alicia become a statistic. Put her sadistic killer rightfully where he belongs."

She took a deep breath before she turned around to head back to her seat. Her head spun and she tried to focus on the seat she was getting to until it was too blurry to see. Her eyes shut as she fell onto the floor. She fell in and out of consciousness as she heard fragments of voices around her.

...an ambulance!

...she have a pulse?

Stay with me, Ms. Courtney.

***

Duncan received a call from the hospital and rushed out of the tattoo shop without much thought. When he reached Courtney's hospital room, Duncan found her mother standing outside exchanging pleasantries with the doctor. He assumed she had just made it there as well.

"Now, you're Mom and..?"

"Boyfriend," Duncan answered.

"Boyfriend." The doctor reiterated while shaking his hand. "I'm Doctor Holt and I've been taking care of Ms. Courtney. She's going to be fine. We're just monitoring her blood pressure, making sure she's getting some rest. Fainting is a common occurrence in the first trimester."

Duncan nodded, accepting the verdict until he realized the last three words that came out of the doctor's mouth. He furrowed his brow in confusion and disbelief. He took pauses, stammered over his words as he tried to catch his breath the last three words stole from his lungs. "Th-the first trimester? ...Of pregnancy?"

"Yes...?"

"I knew it!" Courtney's mother exclaimed in victory over her intuition. Duncan whipped his head to the left of him in shock.

"You knew?!"

"Well, not knew, per se. A mother can just tell." This time Doctor Holt chimed in realizing his mistake.

"I'm so sorry. I couldn't ask her about the possibility of her being pregnant. She kept falling in and out of consciousness and I just decided to draw her blood for a test. I needed to know to care for her properly. If you don't know, then that means she definitely doesn't know she's pregnant."

"If it's not too much, I'd like to tell my daughter the news."

"I'm not against that," Doctor Holt declared. "I just need to be in the room when it happens. I'll be back in about five minutes to see if she's awake." He turned to enter another patients room down the hall. Lorena looked over to her future son-in-law being uncharacteristically silent, looking at Courtney through the door's window.

"How are you doing, Pobrecito?"

He didn't divert his gaze. The longer he stared, the more he was able to accept the fact. A small smile crept upon his face seeing his girl so sound asleep. For once, Duncan didn't feel resistant to change. When he looked at Courtney he didn't doubt either of their abilities; only relief took over as he ascertained that she was his partner in this journey. The only thing bringing him out of his thoughts were the angry exclaims from Lorena.

"Now you decide to show up after all these years?!" Duncan turned to see a tall man with graying hair in a suit.

Courtney rarely spoke of her father. Duncan had an idea why she didn't; the words exchanged between her parents confirmed his assumptions and her apprehensiveness when he asked. There were some things Courtney just didn't talk about with anyone and Duncan felt he needed to respect that no matter the circumstance. Her father answered, his tone devoid of any emotion. Every sentence suggested his presence was strictly business and contrasted her Lorena's emotional articulation.

"I'm still on her emergency contact card, so I'm entitled to know the status of my daughter's health."

"You can't just decide to be a father whenever you want! She and Kate are past the age of needing their father, if you couldn't tell."

"Because, of course, you're doing a fine job." He retorted, gesturing to Courtney's state.

"What happened to her is no one's fault. Not even her own." Lorena crossed her arms in frustration, defensive over him undermining all of her work. "Courtney and Kate have their mother. I knew I didn't give our daughters your last name for a reason!"

Duncan intervened when he saw Courtney staring through the window. "Please! Stop. She's awake." He turned to her father. He knew nothing about him, not even his first name. Still, he immediately wanted to diffuse the situation to diminish any stress Courtney could be feeling. Duncan tried his best to steer him away without revealing any information. "It's your best interest to leave. The doctor told us Courtney is fine and we've got it under control, but she doesn't need any more stress as it is." Lorena had the last word before her father left Courtney again.

"If she needed you, she'd call you herself."

***

Courtney's eyes fluttered open to offending voices. She knew she was going to the hospital from what the EMT told her while she lied in the ambulance. She just didn't know how much time had passed between then and now. Courtney enjoyed the feeling of being well-rested before she sat up, squinting her eyes to catch a glimpse of the arguing pair in the hallway. Her eyes widened when she witnessed her mom pointing her finger at her dad while he stood there completely composed and unbothered. Courtney froze and could only stare at them in their usual mode of communication.

It took her back to the little girl watching her father make his yearly visit, her mother denying him access for the emotional protection of her daughters. She remembered watching from the top of the stairs, hoping her sister wouldn't wake from the sound of their parents fighting. At the age of ten Courtney promised herself she wouldn't let herself feel that helpless ever again. That she'd never let her father ever make her feel unwanted.

Their yelling ceased when Duncan interrupted the both of them, signaling to them about her being woken up. The next thing she saw was her boyfriend inaudibly addressing her father rather seriously. His hand gestures and facial expressions indicated he was dismissing him. It seemed to work. Her mother spoke again, but she didn't want to ask her what was said. Whatever she said made him walk away. Courtney's stress levels seemed to be more manageable as she waited on her family to enter her room. No less than a few minutes later Duncan and Lorena entered her room with her mother attaching herself to Courtney in a worrisome hug.

"My baby! Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm okay." She felt like she was comforting her mother more than anything. She patted her on the back as she gave Duncan a small smile while he let the two of them have their moment.

A doctor unfamiliar to Courtney followed along and introduced himself to her. "I'm Dr. Holt. Glad to see you're awake." He checked her blood pressure on a monitor before continuing. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine..." Courtney didn't feel comfortable with the diverse expressions strewn across the three of their faces. She turned to her mother who seemed to be eager to speak. "Why are you looking at me like that?" She couldn't tell the nature of her diagnosis that she hadn't received yet. Duncan seemed be to readying himself while her mother looked to the doctor for an 'okay' to give her the news. Doctor Holt nodded to confirm.

"Mija, you are pregnant."

Courtney looked up at her mom again, slightly embarrassed. She doubled-down on their discussion at the dinner party last weekend. "Mom, I told you to stop this in front of Duncan-"

"Baby," Courtney stopped and turned to him. He made eye contact with her and her face softened when his hand ran up and down her calf covered by the blanket. His eyes were reassuring as he tried to prepare her for his statement. "It's true."

Doctor Holt began to speak about how it's an early pregnancy, but any details disclosed by her doctor came and went as an abundance of thoughts pervaded Courtney's mind. She tried to pay attention to the advice he gave her. Manage stress, drink water, set a sleep schedule. She felt this news would be an added amount of stress to a mound caving in.

***

Courtney sat on a stool near Bridgette's kitchen island. She barely spoke out of nervousness, letting Bridgette handle most of the conversation.

"So, my test came out negative." Bridgette poured a hefty amount of wine into her glass. She held up an empty one to signal her offering Courtney some.

"Oh... I'm so sorry, Bridge." Courtney's nervousness raised after hearing the news. She noticed her nonverbal offer and tried to answer simply. "Oh, no thanks. I need to drink more water. Doctor's orders."

"It's okay. Maybe I was destined to have the exact problems my mom had. You know, I dread waiting for the results now. It's like I'm manifesting seeing only one line on that stupid, goddamned stick."

"Come here." Courtney pulled her into a hug, rubbing her back. The tears began to sting resting atop the brims of her eyes. Her initial reason for stopping by took a backseat in her mind. When they broke apart Bridgette immediately took to her defeated demeanor.

"I didn't notice before, but you look really worried. What's wrong, Courtney?"

"Nothing. I had something to tell you, but I don't think it's the right time."

"No... I ranted. Now it's your turn. It's not a friendship if only one person gets to unload their emotions." Bridgette reassured her. "Tell me."

"Okay." Courtney took a deep breath, instinctively clutching her stomach. "I just want to preface by saying I am in no means trying to make your day worse."

"...Okay..." Bridgette crossed her arms in confusion, but pointed to the hands on her stomach. "Are you...?"

Courtney nodded silently. Her expression became unreadable at her conflicting emotions. "Yes..." Tears started welling up into her eyes and she couldn't tell if she was happy or sad to bring those two words into her reality. She was practically whispering, hoping this change wouldn't bring any destruction to her realm. "I'm pregnant."

Bridgette smiled in shock. "Babe?? Congratulations!" Bridgette quickly brought her into a hug. Her reaction surprised Courtney given how upset she had been. "How far along are you? How did you find out?"

Courtney felt she should be smiling. She felt she should be incredibly happy at the fact. Instead a tear fell down her cheek. "A month. We just found out at the hospital." Courtney was adamant no one knowing about her stint at the hospital. "I only wanted to tell you, because I-I'm just trying to make sense of this and you're my best friend..."

Bridgette noticed Courtney was increasingly feeling less than thrilled the more she explained. "Are you keeping the baby?"

"We don't know, yet. Duncan was excited, but I'm just...- This was not my plan, you know? I haven't even finished school, yet. We can't afford a bigger place because I haven't started my career. This was supposed to come after. After the wedding, after school."

"I understand your feelings, and I'm with you no matter what decision you make. But, there's no set plan for life. Take a lesson out of whatever choice you make, and do what you think is best for all involved."

***

Courtney opened the apartment door and noticed a distinct smell coming from the kitchen. It reminded her of her favorite chicken her mother made for her and Kate when she got home from work early. She curiously walked into the kitchen to see Duncan in full chef mode. He greeted her

"Hey, babe. Are you hungry? I'm making this recipe your mom wrote down for me the other day."

She only stood still as she watched him stir the contents of the pan.

There was nothing Duncan could get out of Courtney after the news broke about their pregnancy. She had completely shut him out for the rest of the week, burying herself in her homework, studying, and whatever else she could distract herself with. She couldn't look at him when they talked and her answers were shortened to simple, one-worded responses, or sometimes none at all.

He opened the refrigerator door behind him to fetch her a bottle of water. "Did you drink enough water today?" He held it out for her to take.

Courtney dropped her bag and rushed into his arms crying. this time she's wailing. Duncan is purely shocked; he's never seen her so emotional. He spent the better half of this week trying to get her to speak. But, he didn't expect this kind of response from her. He placed the bottle on the counter and wrapped his arms around her shoulders as he tried to console her in a hushed tone.

"Hey, hey, no... What's wrong, Princess?"

She was barely coherent, still sobbing over her words. "You're just... too nice. I haven't been nice at all ever since we found out. And you seem so ready and calm and I'm just neither of those things. What if I suck at being a mom? What if I can't make them happy?

"I'm calm because, one, I still wanted to treat you like I normally do. And, two, yes this is shocking news, but... it's you. if I'm gonna embark on this part of life, the only person I trust enough to do the best job is you." She faced him this time, still sniffling but calmed, and he continued.

"You're incredibly smart, ambitious, and beautiful. I'm cool, strong, and hot. Our kid wins the genetic lottery."

Courtney shook her head, half smiling. "Of course you'd point that out." She buried her head in his chest again, letting him run a hand through her hair.

"'Cause it's true," he said chuckling. "Whatever decision you make, I'm with you every step of the way. Okay?" She nodded and he placed a soft kiss on her forehead. When they parted, he ordered her to relax in the living room while he continued cooking. In his mind, he knew everything would be alright; as long as he didn't burn the chicken.

A/N: hello and thank you for reading :) there will be more; hopefully soon. also

fatty=big butt don't worry duncan's not calling her a mean insult i swear lol

#duncney #td courtney #td duncney

26 notes · View notes

wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

What The Stark Spangled F**k?

A Stark Spangled Forever One Shot- Finding Rori

Summary: Rori gets a pet. And hilarity/chaos ensues.

Warnings: Bad language words…

A/N: This came to me yesterday and is inspired by my own fairground goldfish, Evans, who is 5 this year.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Stark Spangled Forever Masterlist // Main Masterlist

The little boy was happily colouring along, grinning and talking to his Dad as he went, occasionally glancing up at ‘Moana’ which was playing on the TV, sometimes he would start to imitate the singing, causing Katie to glance up and watch him, smiling softly. Out of their three youngest kids, he had without doubt been the easiest one to deal with. He hardly ever cried or made a fuss, never complained, he was such a placid little boy. Steve and Katie had no idea who he took after as neither of them were known for their patience or calmness really. And frankly, compared to his sister who could be the biggest pain in the ass on the planet, it was a welcome change. Which was why they liked to make time for him on his own as when the other two were around, they demanded all the attention, something which Katie hated, and Steve knew was worrying her about when baby number four arrived.

But their peace was shattered as the security system alerted them to the fact the gate had been opened by “Bucky Barnes” and Steve glanced up at the clock. It was gone five, he hadn’t realised it was getting that late in the day. He let out a sigh, and exchanged a look with Katie who had placed her book down in preparation for the onslaught.

Which arrived a few minutes later as Jamie sauntered into the room, baseball cap perched on his head backwards, followed by Rori who was clutching a plastic bag in her hand, and contained in which was…

“Oh you are kidding me, right?” Steve nodded to the offending fish swimming around in small circles as Rori held it up grinning. He looked at Katie who was trying not to laugh as he shook his head. Rori had been asking the two of them for a fish for weeks and they had persistently said no but surprise, surprise here she was with one.

“BUCKY! BUCKY!” Steve yelled as Harry grinned, joining in and clapping.

Buck appeared in the doorway, looking at Steve innocently whilst behind him Sam carried some form of small tank which held a pink castle and some other ornaments along with some food, gravel and a filter.

“I told you not to buy her a damned goldfish Bucky!” Steve looked at him, shaking his head

“I didn’t.” Bucky shrugged “I won her one.”

“Fisheee!” Harry said as he toddled over to Rori to get a closer look.

“That’s…that’s a technicality!” Steve spluttered before he looked at Sam who shook his head.

“I had nothing to do with this man.”

“Don’t lie Uncle Sam.” Jamie said, dropping onto the sofa, Stark licking his face “You helped Rori pick the tank in the pet store.” “Traitor” Sam narrowed his eyes at him.

“You,” Steve pointed at Bucky as he stood up from the rug, “are the biggest jerk ever, you know that?”

Bucky grinned innocently as Rori turned to Katie who examined the fish before she gave a shake of her head and sighed.

“Well it’s hre now so we might as well set the tank up.” And just like that, the Star Spangled Diva once more got her own way, as half an hour or so later, said bastard fish was safely in its new home, the tank sitting on the corner unit in the den where Steve had placed it once it had been filled and the ornaments arranged EXACTLY how Rori wanted them.

“I think we should call it Klaus.” Jamie nodded.

“What the hell kinda name is that?” Bucky looked at him.

“It’s the fish from American Dad.” Jamie shrugged.

“Okay. two things.” Steve looked at Jamie sternly. “One, me and your Ma told you that you were far too young to watch that and therefore were not allowed and two, I echo what Buck just said, what the hell kinda name is Klaus?”

“The fish can talk.” Jamie shrugged. “And he’s German, used to be a guy until the CIA turned him into a fish and-“ “Alright, just no.” Steve shook his head. “The fish is not being called Klaus and if I catch you watching that again, I’m gonna take the plug off your TV.” “Oh come on dad, like you didn’t watch shows you weren’t allowed to when you were my age.” Jamie protested and Katie gave a snort.

“Yeah, like TV existed back then.”

Jamie frowned for a moment before a look of realisation spread across his face “Oh yeah!” “Most Exciting thing we saw was the ‘Wizard of Oz’.” Bucky said, nostalgically “Man, Technicolour…what a revelation.” “That’s so whack.” Jamie mumbled.

“Yeah, now you’re talking and I’m hearing words but,” Steve shrugged and grinned as Jamie aimed a dig at him which Steve easily dodged. The two began to play spar with one another, their laugher and exclamations getting louder until Rori cut across the noise as she moved her head from where she was looking at the fish in its tank. “I’m going to call her Dori.” she said. Steve stopped what he was doing, which allowed Jamie to land a punch to his arm, which in all fairness was pretty fucking hard.

“Ow…” He said, rubbing at the place Jamie’s knuckles at connected with his bicep and looked down at the 9 year old “Good shot son…” Jamie grinned and they all turned to where Rori was stood, Katie crouched down next to her as they both watched the fish. “What did you say Princess?”

“I said her name. Imma call her Dori, like in Finding Nemo and Finding Dori…” she shrugged “And it’s like my name…”

“Dori and Rori.” Katie grinned at her daughter “Hey, Finding Rori…gedddit?”

Rori grinned and Hi-Fived her Momma the pair of them laughing whilst Steve and Jamie exchanged a look.

“Nah, I think you should call it Dot.” Bucky said simply. Steve turned to look at him. “What? It’s orangey red…so was her hair…”

“No,it’s Dori” Rori corrected him.

“Dot is better.”

“Dori!”

“Dot!”

“MY FISH, MY NAME UNCLE BUCKY!” Rori stamped her foot. And Katie turned to look at her, a firm expression on her face but it was Steve that issued the warning.

“Aurora enough! And you…” he pointed at Bucky who grinned at him, “stop antagonising her.”

“Chaos, confusion, my work here is done.” Bucky grinned, giving Steve a salute. “Same time next week?”

******* It was a few weeks later when disaster struck…

“Steeeeeeve!” Katie’s yell hit his ears and he stiffened slightly, before he put down his mug and hurried out of the kitchen and into the den.

“What’s wrong?” he frowned. She simply pointed to the corner of the room where Dori’s tank sat and he saw the fish bobbing on the surface.

Dead

“Oh fuck.” He swallowed. “How did that happen?”

“Well, I’m no expert but I suspect the half disintegrated cookie at the bottom of the tank might be something to do with it.” Katie sighed.

“I told her not to feed it them.” Steve groaned.

“You’re gonna have to go get a new one.” Katie looked at him “Before she gets back because I can’t cope with a diva meltdown Steve, not today.”

“Me?” Steve looked at her

“Yes, you.” Katie said. “I was up all night as you know, I can’t stop puking, I’m tired and you’re not in today and…”

“Ok, ok.” Steve nodded, placating her as he dropped a kiss to her cheek “Right…leave it with me.” She smiled at him, leaned up to give him a kiss before she swept out of the den, Harry toddling behind her. Steve glanced at the dead fish before he pulled out his phone.

“S’up Punk?” Bucky greeted him.

“Me and you got a mission, a big mission.” Steve said, “Meet me at the Coffee shop in 30.”

And that’s how both World War 2 Veterans, the Captain and his Sergeant, ended up in a local Pet Shop an hour or so later with said dead fish in a Tupperware container, a very bemused assistant looking at them.

“I need one of these” Steve explained, showing the fish to him.

“You need a goldfish, Sir?” “Yeah but it needs to look exactly like this one.” Steve said.

“Ok, they all look similar…” the assistant began until Bucky cut him off. “No, you don’t know his daughter.” Bucky shook his head “When we say exactly the same, we mean, exactly the same…” Less than an hour later, Dori The Second was placed in the now cleaned tank, the 3 adults and Harry watching it carefully.

“Think she’ll notice?” Steve asked, looking at Katie.

“Hmmm, it looks the same to me.” she said. “Suppose we’ll find out later.” Steve was crapping his pants all day. And when he finally collected Rori from school, he was on tenterhooks until she headed into the Den after getting changed and having a juice box. He glanced at Katie, as the pair of them held their breath, and they thought they’d gotten away with it for a few minutes, until they heard her yell.

“Shit…” Katie mumbled, as they both headed into the room.

“Everything ok?”

“Why does Dori have a white spot on her tail?” Rori looked at her mom and dad.

“Where?” Steve frowned.

“There!” She exclaimed, pointing. Steve leaned down to look and there was the tiniest white spot on the tip of the fish’s tail, no bigger than a pin prick.

“Some fish get markings like that.” Katie said, her quick thinking kicking in “it might go again, or it might get bigger…maybe you should keep notes and some pictures, then you can track it.” “Oh, ok, yeah that sounds cool!” Rori grinned and Steve glanced at his wife, relief flooding his system.

A little later, once Jamie, Rori and Harry were in bed, Katie and Steve sat down to dinner.

“I can’t believe we pulled it off.” Steve sighed, spearing a piece of broccoli with his fork “I mean, of all the missions we’ve run…”

Katie chuckled, “You know, when I was a kid I had a goldfish. Tony got him for my 8th birthday, called him Flounder, you know after the fish in the little mermaid?”

“Yeah?” Steve looked at her.

She nodded “Yup. He lived for like 11 years…or rather I thought he did. On my 18th birthday Tony confessed that Flounder, who was at this point still alive, was in fact Flounder the 9th. He had in fact died 9 times and each time Tony replaced him without me knowing.”

Steve paused, his fork raised halfway to his mouth before he gave a groan. “So basically I’ve turned into Tony?”

“There are worse people you could have become.” Katie snorted as Steve shook his head, swallowing his food.

“Bucky is a dead man.” he sighed, “This is all his fault.” “Well he’d do anything for Rori.” Katie shrugged “She has the pair of you, and Sam for that matter, wrapped around her pinkie.”

“Wonder where she gets that from?” Steve looked at her “I mean, can you blame me? She’s basically Tony with your looks.”

A couple of hours later, after some TV and a cuddle on the couch, both of them decided to head to bed. It was still reasonably early but Katie was tired and Steve decided to go with her, he could watch TV in bed. They both checked on their kids, and Steve left Katie to tuck Harry in properly as he wandered over to Jamie’s room. He opened the door, Stark pushing in to take his customary place on the foot of the bed.

“Lights out pal.” Steve said gently as he dropped a kiss to his forehead. He reached for the remote, turning his son’s TV off as Jamie reached for his lamp, clicking the switch, leaving the only source of light as that which was coming from the hall way. “Night buddy.” “Night…” Jamie said, before he spoke again just as Steve was about to leave the room. “I know you swapped the fish.” Steve turned back to look at him, shrugging “I don’t know what you mean.” “Mom’s right, you’re a terrible liar.” Jamie said and Steve could just make out his face, a smirk was playing on his lips “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Rori…if you give me twenty bucks…” “How about I don’t, and you still don’t or you’re grounded.” “Grounding me aint gonna reverse time and stop me telling her in the first place.” Jamie shrugged.

Steve blinked. He paused for a second, contemplating his options. He could come down like a tonne of bricks on the kid, which to be fair was very tempting, or he could take the easy way out which frankly, at that moment, was far more appealing. And so, Steve Rogers, the first Captain America, once-upon-a-time leader of the World’s Mightiest Heroes found himself reduced to bargaining with a blackmailing 9 year old. His blackmailing 9 year old to be precise.

You little shit.

“5 bucks.” Steve opened the negotiation.

“15.” shot back Jamie.

“10.”

“Deal.” Jamie grinned. “Night dad.” “Yeah, whatever…” Steve grumbled, closing the bedroom door behind him. He stopped dead as he saw Katie looking at him, her hands on her hips.

“Did you seriously just let him do that?” she shook her head.

“Do you wanna deal with a diva tantrum?”

“Steve, he just completely…”

“I know what he did, Doll.” Steve sighed, following her into their room “And for the record, this is on you.” “Me?” she frowned as he reached out, his arms wrapping around her from behind, hands softly cupping her bump. “Yes, because that part of him that just blackmailed me, was his 50% Stark.” he said, placing a kiss to her neck.

Katie tilted her head and looked at him with narrowed eyes. He arched an eyebrow at her and she gave a snort, shaking her head. “Who knew that your own daughter would be your downfall.”

“She’s Tony but with your looks.” Steve shrugged “What do you expect?”

“Well,” Katie mused, “you said you’d give him 10 bucks but you didn’t say when. You can point this out to him tomorrow, if he wants it he can have it when he’s tidied his room.” “That’s…sneaky” Steve grinned.

“Fight fire with fire Soldier.” she smirked “You pointed out he’s half Stark, well, I’m 100% Stark, which means I can out Stark him all day long.”

**Original Posting**

#what the stark spangled fuck #stark spangled forever #steve rogers #Katie Stark #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #mcu #mcu fanfic #chris evans #chris evans characters

41 notes · View notes

kaiparker-avengerssmut · 3 years

Text

CURSED: CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“Knocking on Heaven’s Door”

Kai Parker x OC!Mack Grace

Series synopsis: "We're both cursed, in a way."

We all know the story of Kai Parker, but he once lived in a very different life. Do you ever wonder what that life looked like?

Chapter summary: Kai realised he fucked, Mack isn’t so willing to forgive him, Joshua is a shading little shit

Warnings: swearing, slight violence, arguing, mention of drug use (or misuse I guess)

Masterlist | series Masterlist

Kai’s affection didn't last long, the second the announcement was over he released Mack's hand with such haste you'd think it'd burnt him. Kai was quick to ignore his girlfriend - looking straight ahead and following the Police with his eyes as they made their way out of the room - but not before announcing they would be questioning certain individuals.

This put Mack's stress on overdrive, knowing that they'd find out that she killed him and that Kai helped destroy the body and they'd both go to prison. The girl shuddered at the thought of the cold, dingy cells; the cool metal bars that would not doubt be lathered in a layer of thick rust; the grumpy, disgruntled guards; and lastly, the inmates - the ones who had done awful things, much more so than she had than her, or even worse, the ones she outdid.

Mack visibly shook, a chill tickling along her spine as the thoughts encased her mind in a state of anxiousness. She hardly noticed the police had left until the jabbing of the bell pierced her ears, bringing Mack back to her senses as she scrambled to her feet. What she'd also failed to notice was that Kai was no longer in the class, having snuck out when he'd let go of her shaking hand.

...

"Who the fuck are you?" Kai hissed, approaching Shawn, shoulders squared and jaw locked. Shawn smirked, leaning away from the wall and closing the distance between them. Both boys were around the same height - neither of them having an advantage of dominance due to being tall.

"None of your damn business." He smirked, winding Kai up even further.

"Oh, you're right - it's none of my damn business that your asking my girlfriend to kiss you in front of me, is it?" Kai mused, a sinister looking smirk reaching his own lips. Shane's didn't falter either.

"Mmm, girlfriend? She looked more like a slut to me." Shawn pondered and Kai's jaw clenched uncomfortably, hands balling into tight fists at his sides.

"What did you just call her?" Kai spat through gritted teeth and Shawn chuckled, looking back at the group of friends stood behind him with amused expressions.

"What? That's what she is, isn't it? I mean you only called her your girlfriend when you pissed off your sister so bad and her ex went missing." Shawn smirked, his friends laughing and egging him on with cheers. "I bet she's the one who killed him, right? Then ever the hero you swoop in, claiming to be her boyfriend so any motive she may hold becomes futile." Shawn declared, before turning back to his friends with outstretched arms. "Am I right, boys?" He called loudly, met with hoots of agreement that made Kai's anger bubble, their laughter creating a scowl on Kai's brows.

"I mean, nice catch though dude - a bet she's a real freak in bed, probably hard to keep up with her, huh?" Shawn taunted.

Shawn only stopped at the impact of Kai's fist colliding with his jaw, snapping the boy's head to the side as Kai's ring caught the soft skin of his cheek, a slither of crimson breaking the surface. Shawn's jaw clenched tight lung, his thumb swiping the blood from his cheek as his dangerous glare met Kai's.

"You son of a fucking bitch!" Shawn growled, grabbing Kai by his jacket and shoving him into the wall behind him. "Don't you dare fucking touch me again!"

"Or you'll what?" Kai smirked, Shawn's nostrils now flared and his breathing heavy. He was clearly bothered by how unaffected Kai was, this frustration showing clearly when he moved to punch Kai.

But Kai got there first.

No one was really sure how I'd happened, including Kai, but next thing either of them new a teacher was peeling Kai off of Shawn as he straddled the boy, landing punch after punch to his bartered and bruised face.

...

And yet weeks went by and neither Mack nor Kai said a word to each other.

Awkward silences became more awkward, uncomfortable moments became more uncomfortable, wistful gazes became more wistful.

It was getting too much, and Mack was dying for Kai just to say something to her, yet she was too stubborn to say anything first. She sighed heavily, slamming the front door behind her and dumping her bag on the floor. Mack quickly chucked the car keys onto the table before walking into the kitchen for a glass of water. For the past month Mack has been borrowing her dad's car to get to school.

"Hey dad!" She called and Ian soon walked round the corner, joining her in the kitchen.

"Hey, kiddo." He smiled, "how was school?" But before Mack got a chance to answer Kim called from the other room.

"Mack! Kai's here!" The colour instantly drained from Mack's face, her smile falling and her thought spiralling into dread.

Why was Kai there? And why had he now decided to talk to her?

Mack quickly shook off the thoughts, pulling on a hard stare and calling as emotionlessly as she could to Kim,

"I don't want to talk to him. Tell him to leave!" Kim merely shrugged, giving Kai a half-ass apologetic look before letting the slab of wood slam shut in his face, the tiny draft the force created combined with the monotone drawl of Mack's words felt like it hit Kai's face almost as hard as if the girl had charged outside and slapped him across the face herself. He took a deep swallow, choking down the lump in his throat as he stared blankly at the door, fist twitching as he tried to make up his mind.

Another hollow knock on the door. Kim's hand still remained on the handle, so she simply yanked it open before giving Kai a bored look, Amber eyes rolling dramatically.

"Look, lover boy, give it a rest. She doesn't want to talk to you." Mack's sister deadpanned, before letting the door smack shut with an even louder thud than the first time. Kai took a deep breath, his chest rising greatly as he rose his hand another time.

Another hollow knock on the door. Kim scoffed, turning to open the door once again - figuring it could be another person as the pause between knocks had been much longer this time. The second Kai's face met hers Kim huffed out an exasperated sigh, not even bothering to speak before letting the door close dully in Kai's face. A wince escaped him when the last thud met his ears, shoulders slumped as he slowly made his way back to his jeep.

He'd just have to wait Mack out.

10pm. Perfect. Kai claimed out his car hastily, limbs aching after being cooped in his jeep for the last five or so hours. He crept as quietly as possible past her front windows, letting out a small sigh of relief when he noticed that the curtains were already closed so he wasn't in trouble of being seen. Only one light beacons out from the house, the yellow hue of Mack's lamp echoing into the crisp night air. Even though it was already February, the weather was still as harsh as it had been throughout the bitter January.

Kai grabbed onto the bricks, suddenly much more appreciative to the fact he had a small magical boost as he scaled the side of the small building.

Mack nearly jumped three foot in the air, her heart beating so fast she thought it jump out of her chest. The unexpected, unwelcome and unnecessary rattle of Kai's knuckles against her old window bounced off her bedroom walks, filling her ears with anxiety as she turned to see her ex-boyfriend's concerned face looking into her room. Mack inhaled sharply, biting her lips to hold back her grimace as she realised what he'd seen.

The window climbed upwards, Kai's hands sliding the glass up enough to stumble through until he was awkwardly stood in Mack's room, both teens staring at each other uncomfortably.

"That's how you've been coping?" Mack's gaze dropped to her bed, guilt washing over her at the sight of the half-rolled joint. "Weed? Really?" Kai scoffed and Mack's guilt soon rolled into anger, rage.

"That's none of your business." She said with an unturned nose, scooping the mess into a bag and shoving it in the little drawer in her desk which held a small lock. The sound Kai made resembled one of mocking laughter, short and bitter.

"None of my business, huh? I think you doing drugs is damn well my fucking business!" Kai demanded, shaking his head at her in disbelief.

"It stopped being your business the second you decided to dump me!" Mack was raising her voice now, her enmity melting into her face in a deep red hue. Kai's jaw clenched and unclenched, his eyes burning holes through the little wooden drawer shed just stuffed the weed into.

"That was a mistake." He muttered and Mack's eyes lit up with fury.

"A mistake? Kai you've made hundreds of mistakes!" Mack said harshly, voice cracking. Kai wiped his hand over his jaw, hiding his pout. "No. That wasn't a mistake, Kai. That was your shitty past making you doubt me as much as you doubt your shitty father and your shitty coven!" Mack shouted, eyes shellacked with tears.

And awkward silence fell over them, but Kai's stung expression told Mack everything she needed to know.

"Kenz..."

"Why are you here, Kai?!" Mack spat.

"Ben, he's uh- he's been confirmed dead." Kai murmured meekly, pressing his lips together. Mack's eyes were as wide as saucers.

"What?!" She whispered-shouted. Kai nodded.

"The police- they confirmed it, earlier. It was on the news." A somber mood had undertaken the room, a mutual air of what-do-we-do-now becoming the two teens.

"How-?"

"They found the ashes in the woods. And Kim talked." Kai admitted and Mack's face quickly morphed back into one of acrimony.

"That bitch-" Kai's hand quickly caught her wrist, pulling Mack back into him before she could get any further. He quickly backed her up into the door, a finger hovering over her lips.

"Shhhh. I have a sneaking suspicion that your name wouldn't have come up." He whispered calmly, but the fear and anger in his blue eyes were evident.

"What are you going to do?" She asked, a hint of concern creeping into her eyes.

"Well, I was thinking we could run away. You and me." Kai suggested, a hopeful glint to his voice that made Mack scoff.

"You haven't spoken to me in weeks," she emphasised the word heavily, "and you just expect me to run away with you? Not a chance." Mack dismissed, pulling away from Kai and quickly slipping out of her room - feet padding down the stairs swiftly. But Kai's heavy footsteps could be heard behind her.

"Come on, Kenz, you know you want to-" at that Mack turned harshly on her heal to face him

"What makes you think I'd want to go anywhere with you?" She hissed and Kai was taken aback.

"I thought you loved me.." he mumbled and Mack rolled her eyes, but really she was only trying to hide the siege of tears persisting at her bottom eyelids. She continued her path out, pulling the front door open harshly. "Where are you going?" Kai called, before coming to a stop a few feet behind Mack outside the small house.

"I'm just asking myself, why do I," Mack took a pause, inhaling a deep breath, "pick people who treat me like...nothing..." she exhaled deeply, turning around to face him and Kai's bottom lip began to quiver. Tears pooled in his deep blue eyes and he shook his head slightly.

"That's not true." He murmured, head still shaking as Mack kept her eyes trained to the floor. She gave him no response.

Kai's lips smashed to hers, his hands cupping her face and his eyes closed. Mack balled her fists by her sides, trying with all her strength to not kiss back. She finally pulled away, her hand making a hard connection with Kai's cheek.

"No! You don't get to do that, Kai!" She screamed, tears running down Mack's red cheeks. "You don't get to screw everything up and expect to kiss me and make it better!" The tears stung his eyes too now, an expression of sadness over coming him.

"I'm sorry." The words were mumbled, directed at the floor.

"Sorry?! You thought so little of me that I'd throw away what we had for some - some guy I'd just met! I can't be with you if all you can do is think of me as some lying, manipulative bitch like you do you coven! I can't, Kai. God, I can't believe I actually fell in love with someone as- as immature as you!" Mack seethed, but Kai was crying silently now, shaking his head no as she spoke even though deep down he knew every word she spoke was true.

"Please don't leave me." Kai begged, his desperation lacing his deep blue eyes with a rim of sadness, eyes finally making contact with Mack's. "Please, Kenz, I can't live without you."

"Kenz? Oh we are so not at nicknames right now Malachai." Mack spat out his name like is tasted bad, as if the word held a lingering bitter taste on her tongue. It stung Kai, Mack using his full name.

"I love you." Was all Kai suggested and Mack let out a heavy sigh through her tears.

"If you truly loved me, you would have trusted me. I can't be with someone who I have to tread on eggshells around, Kai. I can't do that." Mack cried, biting down on her lower lip to hide a sob. She looked at her feet, then back up again and put on a brave face as her eyes bored into Kai's blue orbs. "We're done." She whispered and Kai's eyes widened.

"No..." he muttered, shaking his head slowly in protest as Mack sorrowfully nodded.

"Yes, we're done. For good. I'm sorry." Mack said authoritatively, wiping the tears away quickly before turning back around and walking over to her dad's car.

"Kenz!" He shouted after her, but Mack pretended to ignore him - a new wave of tears threatening to drip down her chin now. The lights on the car flashed orange, the button on the keys clicked and the door now open. Mack slipped in, seating herself in the car and pushing the keys into the ignition, starting the car with a small sob.

As Mack attempted to shut the door, a strong hand caught it, Kai's wrecked face looking down at her with a pleading beg.

"Please don't leave, don't you get it? I love you Kenz." Kai begged. Mack shook her head.

"Let me go, Kai." He shook his head back, pressing his lips together to stop himself choking over a sob.

"I can't."

"And you've lost the right to call me anything but Mackenzie." She whispered, finally out manning Kai and slamming the door shut, not even hesitating before driving off.

...

The words buzzed through Mack's mind, her eyes trained on the road ahead of her as she desperately drove further away from home. She couldn't put her family through this, not right now, couldn't face him. She had to get away, go somewhere to think.

Mack tapped her foot restlessly, chewing on her bottom lips as she drove down the secluded road. As she approached a corner, she turned around it to see a car parked up at the side of the road, lights flashing.

As she drove closer, she realised it was Kai's father's car, so she made to pull over. Even thought she was avoiding Kai, Joshua hadn't done anything wrong and he could be in serious trouble. Once parked at the side of the road, Mack quickly climbed out her car, locking it behind her and walking over to Joshua - who was stood by his tyre, bent down to examine it.

"Hey, Mr Parker!" She called, arms crossed over her chest, and he looked up.

"Ah, Mackenzie! What are you doing out here alone?" He asked with a small frown.

"Well I was just driving to clear my head and I saw your car...are you okay? Do you need help?" She asked worriedly, stepping back slightly as Joshua rose to stand.

"Actually," he spoke rather menacingly, "there is something you could help with." He continued walking until Mack was backed into a tree and she let out a sharp gasp. Joshua raised his hand. "Phasmatos Somnus!" he spoke, and Mack's body fell limp, eyes closed as she fell unconscious.

19 notes · View notes

justcallmenikki7 · 5 years

Text

The Art of Imperfection: Split!Jeon Jungkook

Summary: you are home alone when someone breaks in. you call your boyfriend and that is when you first meet his alter ego, JK.

Warnings: mentions of burglary and mafia, reader being shot at, Split Personality, mentions of anxiety and panic attack, angst, fluff. A Taehyung who wants to keep his ship from sinking.

Notes: So, i am pretty sure that this is one of my longest drabbles/imagines for one of the boys individually and i am pretty proud of myself on this. I hope you all enjoy it!

Baths are amazing. They help relax you, allow you to think about life, even fall asleep in the warmness that surrounds you.

But taking a bath while you are home alone, hearing a crashing sound downstairs is not amazing. Reaching over the side of the tub, grabbing your phone to turn off the music so you could hear better, you heard the sounds of someone walking around downstairs (thank goodness for tile flooring). Quietly, you got out of the bathtub and slipped your robe on, tip toeing to your bedroom to hopefully get some clothing on – you do not plan on dying in your robe. Slipping on your athletic shorts and a crew-neck, you grabbed your phone and called your boyfriend, Jungkook.

He picked up on the first ring, greeting you in his loving voice, “hey baby, what’s up?”

“Jungkook, there’s someone in the house.” You ignored his greeting, walking slowly to the bedroom door to lock it. A loud crash was heard close to the bedroom door, causing you to jump from where you stood.

They are in the hallway, destroying the pictures that are hung up on the hallway walls.

“Jungkook they’re outside of the bedroom door.” You cried into the phone quietly, feeling the all too familiar signs of a panic attack overtaking your body.

“I’ll be there soon.” You heard Jungkook, or you think is Jungkook, say into the phone before hanging up on you. Looking down at your phone, the lock screen glaring at you. What the heck? He hung up on me? You thought, greatly confused by your boyfriends’ actions.

“Might as well go down with a fight instead of being a little bitch.” You muttered to yourself, trying to get yourself hyped up and ignore the panic attack, which was greatly hard. With shaky hands, you grabbed the baseball bat that Jungkook uses to play ball with, stalking to the bedroom door quietly.

Taking a deep breath, you unlocked the door before you turned the door handle slowly. Opening the door slowly, you cringed at the sound of the door creaking, “of fucking course,” you said. Walking out of the doorway, you began to creep down the hallway, listening closely to any sounds that you could hear. There was a sound coming from Jungkook’s office, sending your heart straight to your ass. The bat began to shake in your hands, body trembling from how scared you were. Taking a deep breath, you crept towards the door to Jungkook’s office, peering into the room. The person you saw was someone unfamiliar to you, confusing you greatly.

The front door to the house was slammed opened, scaring both you and the unknown person. The man saw you, something that made you freeze in your place. You saw his hands move to his gun and the made you quickly hide behind the door, saving you from getting shot.

Jungkook’s voice yelled your name, bringing some sort of relief to you, knowing that he was here and that you will be safe. The first person that you saw was Jungkook himself, but he did not pay you any mind, his goal was to get the person who broke into your guys shared home. The next person that you saw was Taehyung following quickly behind him. Taehyung made his way towards you, pushing you softly into the entertainment room, closing the door. You heard the sounds of someone screaming in pain and Jungkook’s booming voice. But the thing is, his voice was an octave lower and more sinister.

“Y/N,” Taehyung called out, getting your attention. “there is something that you need to know about Jungkook.”

“What is it?” You asked confusedly.

“Jungkook is not Jungkook. Well, right now at least.” He began, running his hands through his hair.

“What the hell do you mean?”

“Jungkook has an alter ego, it’s something that he developed when we were 13, when we were introduced to the Mafia life. The things that he saw triggered his other side. But, his other side, which is present right now, is more … deadlier than the Jungkook we are all familiar with. His name is JK. He only comes out whenever someone he loves, or someone who is a huge threat. He doesn’t appear a whole lot because Jungkook is now a lot more mentally stronger than he was when he was 13.” Taehyung quickly explained, “he didn’t tell you because he was nervous that you would leave. But he wants you to know that JK does know about you and loves you equally as much as Jungkook does. They both love equally, and JK is just someone who helps Jungkook cope.” Taehyung was rambling, words getting mixed together.

Taehyung knew how much Jungkook loved you. Jungkook has told Taehyung how one day he wants to marry you, but Jungkook knows that you have always talked about getting married once you are done with school because you had said that is when you know that you will be able to focus on income. So, Taehyung is doing anything in his power to make sure that Jungkook would not lose you. He does not want to see his best friend lose himself like he once did before he met you.

“Just, know that Jungkook loves you so much.” Taehyung ended, stressing out.

You know that Jungkook loves you, he proves it everyday to you.

Yes, the fact that Jungkook has an alter ego made you wary because you have never met someone with one. You have seen the movie split before, and it did creep you out, but also intrigued you. Will there be things that you will need to discuss with Jungkook? Yes. But are you going to leave him just because he has some sort of psychological disorder? No.

“I’m not going to leave him, Tae. Calm down.” You reassured the box smile boy. You could see the man relax.

“Thank you.” He smiled greatly at you. “The yelling has stopped, which is a sign that JK is done with handling the burglar. Let’s go check up on him.”

Following the box smile man, you began to get nervous. You criticized yourself mentally at that. This is your boyfriend, there is no reason to be nervous. They love you, they would never harm you. When you got into Jungkook’s office, you saw the burglar wrapped in rope, sitting in the corner and your boyfriend sitting in his desk chair, sipping whisky from the bottle – a habit Jungkook has whenever he is done with a deal or any other mafia business.

“Taehyung, please give me and Y/N some privacy for a moment.” Jungkook demanded, nodding his head in said mans direction. Taehyung bowed before leaving, giving you a reassuring smile on his way out. When the door closed, your boyfriend stood up from his chair and made his way towards you. You could not make any differences that JK and Jungkook had, besides the tone of voice. “Are you scared of me?” Was the mans first question, worry evident in his eyes.

“No, but I am wary about the situation.” You answered honestly.

“I know, I heard you telling Taehyung that.” JK acknowledged, a sad smile on his face. “But just know that I would, both Jungkook and I, would never hurt you.”

“I know you won’t. I trust you, both of you. But I do not know a whole lot about this type of thing, but I am willing to learn about it. I love you, Jungkook. But like I said before I agreed to be your girlfriend, if things begin to get out of hand and are putting my life at risk, I will leave.”

“I know, and I respect that.” JK said softly, “But I promise, swear to any greater power, that I will not allow anything to happen to you. You have my word.” JK swore, voice deep and determined. Smiling, you wrapped your arms around your boyfriend’s frame, inhaling the familiar scent that brought you peace. “I love you, Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N.”

“I love you too, Kook.”

1K notes · View notes

the-insomniac-emporium · 4 years

Note

Hey! I saw you were taking requests :3 would you mind writing (hcs, scenario, anything!) a thing where, shortly pre-OVW recall, McCree and his old teammate (f or neutral pronouns are fine but it’s up to u!!) accidentally meet again after he left without warning? Bonus points for “I thought u were dead/I was never gonna see you again” type stuff :p thanks! Sorry if this was confusing!

{This was, like, super fun to write? I did kinda flip part of the script, but it still fits what you asked for (hopefully). Minor warning for implied alcoholism though, oops. It can also be read as more of a “bars exist for brawls” than “alcohol is my coping method” though, so maybe that’s not as bad??? IDK, at least the ending feels cute.} {-J}

After the fall of Overwatch and its subdivisions, there were certain things that you had been forced to accept: Dozens of your friends and coworkers had died, you were out of a job, and everything you had worked so hard for had crumbled into oblivion. So yeah, shit, you ended up drinking away your pain more than once. At this point you weren’t even sure how many places you were banned from. Still, you held onto the pride that came from never starting any fights, instead waiting for some asshole to decide he wanted to rumble with an ex-Blackwatch agent. It was messy, dangerous, and only added to your nasty reputation.

Few organizations would even think of hiring you. Did that make your drinking worse, or did your drinking make the job search harder?... It wasn’t something you wanted to dwell on, especially considering how desperately you were trying to change things. Mercenary work hadn’t suited you for long, as all your clients were faceless, mysterious forces pulling strings from the shadows. How could you trust that they weren’t like Talon?... Or like Blackwatch had become? In the end you had been forced to slink back into the shadows, praying to whatever gods may be that you could still do some good for the world.

That was a couple years ago. You had changed your name, traded out your old gear for something less suspicious, and set yourself up along the halfway point of Route 66. The area was known for its problems with gangs, violence, and a general lack of government intervention. Sure, the road itself spanned across eight different states, but most of it had been in a state of disrepair for a few decades now. The Omnic Crisis was the final push that sealed the region’s fate. Or, at least, it had been. Some people still cared.

Like you. Why else would you be here, now, scanning the horizon, a beer in one hand, binoculars in the other? There certainly weren’t any good birdwatching spots nearby. Just a rundown gas station perfect for staging ambushes, an old school diner with shitty coffee, and a dusty, dirty crevice up high, wonderful for keeping an eye on it all. You didn’t like it up here, but it was the only discreet place to perform surveillance on the local miscreants.

Apparently a new gang was starting to harass people in the area, despite the proximity to Deadlock turf, and were trying to sell “insurance”. Understandably, that really pissed you off. Sweet-talking one of the locals had gotten you insight on the gang’s general daily routine. Nothing too specific, unfortunately. Now all you had to do was wait for the scum to show up so you could pound them into the dirt.

Taking a quick swig from your beer, you settled in a little, preparing to wait for who knows how long….

Dust flew into the air like a trail of smoke, blurring your vision but not deterring you in the slightest. You slipped around your target, barely avoiding his second kick, before slamming your elbow into the back of his head. Sure enough he went crashing down with a thud. More dirt was kicked up in the process. At least it made it a little harder for the gang members still outside to target you. Another quick dash landed you behind cover, where you could finally take a moment to breathe.

“Damn it,” you grumbled, hearing yet another bullet whiz past your hiding spot. There were still four or five gunmen outside. Truthfully, that was the total number of people you had expected to find, not just the backup boys. Sure, you had prepared for unforeseen hiccups, but apparently not enough. In over your head, stuck sitting like a duck, reminded more and more of the old days. Shit, you missed your teammates. Normally Jesse or Genji would have saved your ass by now.

You missed them. So much, in fact, that you were pretty sure you just heard Jesse’s signature “high noon” line. It almost made you feel like you were a bit more tipsy than you had thought. When the sound of a revolver firing reached your ears, you couldn’t help but wonder if you had actually died; if so, this was the weirdest form of afterlife known to mankind. Curiosity ended up getting the best of you. Crawling to the side, you made sure not to reveal any part of yourself to your enemy, working your way towards the building’s secondary entrance. That was still within the gang’s line of sight, but you hoped it was far enough to the side that they wouldn’t immediately notice you poking around the corner.

Sure enough, nobody shot at you when you turned the corner. Someone did, however, raise a silver revolver in your direction. Air got caught in your lungs as you stared down that ever-so-familiar barrel. Relief started to flood your chest… until you realized that the gunman wasn’t wavering in his stance. Your gaze follows up his arm, to his face, and you suddenly wish you weren’t wearing this stupid goddamn mask.

“Hold it, buddy, unless you want to end up like your compadres back there,” Jesse McCree drawls, tipping his head back towards the fallen gang members. Evidently he hadn’t seen you beating the crap out of the ones inside. Still, you raised your hands slowly, showing your lack of weapons. “There we go. Now, take off that there lil’ mask, nice and easy, alright?” You complied, of course, tossing it to the side before throwing a grin in Jesse’s direction. His reaction made you really, really wish you had brought a camera. The normally smooth and put-together cowboy is now slack jawed, a sense of wonder (and something else…?) in his eyes. Soon your name drops from his lips, whispered like a sacred prayer.

“It’s good to see you too, Jesse,” you manage to reply, still grinning like a fool. Hardly a moment passes before the wind is suddenly knocked out of you. Jesse had holstered his gun, closed the distance between the two of you, and pulled you into a hug in a matter of just a couple seconds. The action catches you by surprise, now making you the one to choke on the words caught in your throat. Still, you manage to hug him back, leaning in to gently rest your head against his chest.

“Goddamnit, who gave you the right to surprise me like this?” He asks after a few moments of silence, his voice on the edge of breaking. His grip was tight, like a man desperate to keep his sanity clutching onto a lifetime of coping methods. Words failed you, barely managing a confused noise, as you pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes. There was something you couldn’t comprehend in his gaze. Something you were missing, that required knowledge you didn’t have. Your head tipped to the side as you hoped for at least a little elaboration. Jesse seems to realize your cluelessness, and shakes his head with a bitter laugh. “I thought you were dead,” he murmurs, the words settling on his tongue with an all-too-familiar weight.

Shit, you thought, eyes going wide for a moment. Thoughts raced through your head as you tried to process what he said, thinking back to what had happened after Blackwatch’s disbandment, wondering why he could possibly have thought that you were-

….

Fuck.

Yeah, that tracked. Going from constantly fighting in bars to fucking off to nowhere, changing your name, and turning to the vigilante lifestyle? No shit people thought you were dead. How had you ever thought that this was a good idea?... Sure, most of your old friends had done the same, scattering across the four winds without so much as a “lol bye” (or, you know, a proper farewell). However, that didn’t mean that there weren’t still people who cared, who you could have at least made the slightest effort to keep in touch with before disappearing. People like Jesse.

“Now that you mention it, I realize I didn’t exactly leave much room for thinking anything else,” you replied, barely managing to speak through your embarrassment. A laugh tried to move past your teeth, even though you knew the timing was bad, but the sound died as soon as your gaze met Jesse’s.

“That’s one hell of an understatement, old friend,” he said, hardly a trace of mirth to his name. Both of his arms were still around your frame, gently cradling you, as if a stiff breeze might sweep you away from him once more. You could feel his body shifting with every breath he took, slowly finding yourself matching the movements. One of Jesse’s hands moves to cup your cheek, fingers sliding so carefully that you almost didn’t feel it, but you lean it instinctively, finding your lips placing a whisper of a kiss against his wrist. “Darling,” he breathes, voice caught in his throat, blocked by joy and surprise alike.

“I’m sorry for worrying you, Jesse. I swear I never meant to just vanish like that,” you plead, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. “Things were bad, and I… I just ran from that, I guess. But you didn’t deserve that, at all, and I swear to whatever passes for high heaven these days, if you give me a chance-....” Pulled in closer, you couldn’t help but squeak a little when Jesse plants a kiss on your forehead. One of his hands is rubbing gentle circles into your back. A reassurance, one you desperately needed. “I can make it up to you. We can do better this time, right?...”

Jesse didn’t say anything, at least not at first, but the feeling of his hat settling down on your head gave you all the answers you’d ever need.

#jesse mccree x reader #mccree x reader #jesse mccree

114 notes · View notes

cosmic-hearts · 4 years

Text

castles in the air | lee donghyuck | two

lee donghyuck x female reader

genre; enemies-to-lovers, friendship, romance, fluff, angst

warnings; mentions of alcohol and drinking in this chapter!

foreword; in which you might be a real-life princess with a prince promised to you right from the start, but you won’t be getting your happy ever after.

<< previous chapter | next chapter >>

You stand before your wardrobe, faced with yet another clothing dilemma. You love fashion and dressing up, you really do, but sometimes it can be a real pain in the ass.

If this were another soirée or evening function, you’d know exactly what to wear—that gorgeous Isabella Militao dress you’d been saving for a spectacular debut. That would be sure to make jaws drop; it was a gift fashioned by the loving hand of Aphrodite herself.

But you’re going to a high school party, and you don’t think girls turned up in the latest garb fresh off the runways of New York Fashion Week.

You think back to when Donghyuck asked you to go to the party with him (“because we actually need to seem like we’re dating”), and you asked him what to wear. He’d scoffed and you nearly socked him in the face.

“How would I know? Your parents literally own Seoul’s biggest fashion brand. And you’ll look good in whatever.”

If that had been a genuine compliment, you would have been flattered. But it was the tone in which he’d said it, that matter-of-fact, detached voice devoid of any tinge of personal belief or emotion that made it clear he was merely stating a truism, an indisputable fact. He might as well have said that the sky was blue.

You eventually decide on a red sleeveless silk floral dress that stops slightly above mid-thigh. It’s not exactly the most modest article of clothing you own, but it’ll have to do.

When you get in Donghyuck’s car, he doesn’t even glance over to see what you’re wearing, a stark reminder that this clearly isn’t a real date. You on the other hand, can’t help but sneak peeks at his outfit (it’s just the fashionista in you, you swear): a denim jacket thrown over a casual white button-up shirt and dark jeans. A simple look, but surprisingly he makes it work.

You quickly look away before he catches you staring.

He drives in complete silence and before long you reach your destination. Upon entering the house, Donghyuck immediately leaves your side to reunite with five other boys; you have to stand alone for a hot minute and bear witness to the fist bumps, back slaps and bro hugs going all around.

“Who’s this?” One of the boys asks, his blue hair gleaming underneath the faux strobe lights.

You open your mouth to reply, but Donghyuck beats you to it. “My girlfriend. Everyone, this is Y/N.” He sounds like he’s gritting his teeth while introducing you as his girlfriend, which makes you want to laugh; after all, he’s brought this upon himself.

“Hi,” you say, smiling at the boys, “it’s nice to meet you guys.”

“Hi, I’m Jaemin,” the blue-haired boy steps forward and says, flashing you a wide grin that sparks a curious flutter in your chest.

“Did you break up with Sohui?” A brooding, dark-haired boy asks Donghyuck. It’s clear to see that he has none of that chipper energy Jaemin possesses.

Donghyuck’s gaze becomes shifty and he clears his throat awkwardly before replying, “Yeah.”

What a lie.

Before you can think too much about it, Jaemin whisks you all away for a game of spin the bottle. The consequence? 7 minutes in heaven.

You’d heard of the game before but you didn’t think people actually played it at parties; it all seemed so terribly cliche. Looks like you were dead wrong, because once the bottle lands Jaemin and then you everyone’s in an uproar and you’re panicking because you really don’t want to lose your first kiss to a stranger, however hot he may be. Heck, you’d rather do it with Donghyuck; at least he’s a familiar enemy.

Jaemin smirks at you and grabs your wrist, gesturing towards a nearby closet (god, the sheer disgrace you feel, what would your parents say?) and your heart starts thumping in your ribcage, the butterflies from earlier entirely gone. You contemplate breaking out into a sprint for the bathroom or just running out to the garage and driving Donghyuck’s car away into the night. You look over at Donghyuck, hoping that he can read your mind and get you out of this situation (you know he hates you but surely he doesn’t hate you that much), but he’s staring at you with a glazed expression on his face and you can’t believe he’s about to offer you up like a lamb to the slaughter, that asshole—

“I’ll do it instead,” Donghyuck suddenly stands and grabs your free hand, tugging you away from Jaemin. Without waiting for his response he drags you behind him to the closet, pulls you in and shuts the door with a loud slam.

You release the breath you’d unconsciously been holding and start to sink down onto the cushions littered about in the dark, dank and cramped space, but then you stop short Donghyuck places a hand on your arm. He shrugs off his jacket and shoves it into your hands, whispering, “Your dress.”

When you two are finally seated, his jacket draped over your lap, you ask in a slight whisper, “What do we do now?”

At this, Donghyuck breaks out into a sardonic smile, leaning in close to whisper in your ear, “We’re not going to do anything. Don’t forget that I have a girlfriend, and if I kiss you, you might just fall in love with me. Can’t risk that now, can we?”

You try to ignore the way his breath tickles your ear and the fact that it’s not an entirely uncomfortable sensation. You hate the way Donghyuck plays with you like this, as though he’s constantly reminding you that he will never be yours, arranged marriage or not.

You press yourself into your corner of the closet to get as far away as possible from him, before taking out your phone and instinctively scrolling through Twitter, your lifeline—it’s almost like a coping mechanism, the way you try to get lost in your timeline filled with pictures of the Albertine bookstore and 90’s Chanel gowns to try and forget the fact that you’re currently stuck in a musty closet with your childhood enemy. Donghyuck does the same; he pulls out his phone and starts typing rapidly. You figure he’s texting Sohui to complain.

Before long the 7 minutes are up and the boys are pounding on the closet door. You sigh; they sound like ravenous zombies lying in wait to chew you out when you emerge. You’re about to push the door open when Donghyuck puts a hand on your arm; you turn to face him with the most annoyed expression can muster. What now?

Without warning, he reaches behind you and pulls out the scrunchie that’s holding your hair in a high ponytail. You nearly yelp at him in surprise as your hair spills past your shoulders, utterly dishevelled (also, that’s a limited edition Chanel scrunchie right there) but he must have seen it coming because he places his hand over your mouth, quick as a flash. Leaning in close, he whispers in your ear, “We have to look like we just made out, idiot.”

You flash him an angry glare which soon turns into a look of sheer embarrassment as he unbuttons the first few buttons of his shirt, a sliver of light through the crack in the closet falling on his now exposed collarbone. You look away hastily, thankful that the darkness obscures the blush creeping up your cheekbones.

He’s about to push open the door when he suddenly hisses, “Shit, I almost forgot the most important thing. I need to get some of your lip gloss off.”

Against your better judgement, you acquiesce. Anything to get out of this literal hellhole.

Closing your eyes, you feel a warm palm on the back of your head and you brace yourself. You feel his thumb running across your bottom lip in one swift but gentle motion, and when you open your eyes he’s swiping it across his own.

The blush in your cheeks intensifies and you look away quickly.

Finally, Donghyuck pushes open the door and a flood of electric purple light streams in. The boys whoop and cheer, and Jaemin invites you to sit next to him. You happily do so, desiring to be in the proximity of anyone other than Donghyuck—you might just combust with embarrassment if you sat next to him after that horrendous episode.

“Are you good at drinking, Y/N?” Jaemin asks, his smile as striking as his cobalt blue hair. He really is a heartthrob.

“Somewhat,” you say, being deliberately evasive; you aren’t about to let him know that your tolerance was limited to dainty sips of Sauvignon Blanc or Chardonnay typically served at the high-end functions you went to.

“Great! Let’s play a drinking game then,” he says, winking, and the butterflies in your stomach make it hard for you to resist.

Over the course of the next hour, you find yourself in an endless cycle of drinking games—you weren’t bad at those games, and it wasn’t very often that you had to drink, but when you did, the single shot of soju burned your throat on the way down and seemed to erode your consciousness along the way. You can feel your cheeks getting hotter and hotter, and the laughing faces of the boys seem to pass by in a hazy blur.

“Y/N,” a low voice chimes in your ear; it’s a stern, familiar voice. You frown instinctively; you have a pretty good idea of who it is, even if you can’t see him. “Stop it. You don’t have to keep drinking if you can’t handle it.”

You wave him off; there’s no way you’re drunk. “Who… Who said I can’t handle it? I’m no… lightweight.”

“Yeah… She seems to be managing fine, right Y/N?” Another voice, this one slurred and a little too mirthful to be sober. A flash of blue hair. It’s the cute boy, you think to yourself and smile.

“Enough,” the stern voice cuts in again, right when you are about to reach up and touch the boy’s hair, to see if it feels like cotton candy as much as it looks.

You feel an arm snaking round your waist, forcing you to stand up. Your head rests on something firm and solid; it’s almost comfortable, but you want to keep drinking. You have to prove that you can hold your liquor; you are Y/N, for goodness’ sake, and you can do anything you set your mind to.

But before you can open your mouth to protest, the world begins to spin and darkness swallows you whole; you have no choice but to fall into it without resistance.

—

This isn’t what Donghyuck envisioned when you decided to take you to the party.

He didn’t expect to have to get stuck in a closet with you for a whole 7 minutes. He didn’t expect you to get dead drunk while slobbering all over Jaemin. And he certainly didn’t expect to be hauling you on his back to the front step of your house and having to present your dismally inebriated form to your mother.

“I’m so sorry,” Donghyuck says, hoping he comes across as apologetic enough, “I should’ve taken better care of her.”

To his utter astonishment, your mother waves off his apology with a flick of her hand. “Don’t worry about it! I expected this to happen; Y/N has never been to a party without us before. I’m glad you were with her; god knows what would have happened to her if you weren’t there!”

Donghyuck resists the urge to chortle. What are you, a child?

“Could you take her up to her room please? I’ll get the housekeeper to run her a bath.”

“Sure,” he says, grimacing inwardly at the thought of having to lug your deadweight up four flights of stairs; thank goodness there’s an elevator.

He tries his best not to dump you unceremoniously onto your bed, taking care to remove your strappy sandals. When the job is done, he’s about to leave when something on your desk catches his eye. He walks over and picks it up, turning on your desk lamp for better lighting.

In his hands lies a framed photo of the two of you when you first met as kids—you in a bright pink dress adorned with a monstrosity of ribbons, him in a suit. You’re both sitting on a park bench holding hands; he’s staring at the camera with a stony expression, while your smile looks more like a grimace.

The memory of that day rushes to greet him, clear as day—it was the first time he saw you, and it was on the same day that it was announced that you were going to be his future bride. It was the day he started his campaign of relentless hate towards you, the day he decided that you were to be his lifelong enemy.

Donghyuck sets the picture down on your desk with more force than intended. Why would you still keep it? Did you really want a constant reminder of your betrothal to him? Did you really want a constant reminder of him?

His whirlwind of thoughts is interrupted by a weak voice. “Donghyuck?”

He walks over to your bed where you lie intoxicated, cheeks flushed and eyes half-lidded, tangled locks of hair strewn across your pillow.

“You’re awake,” he says, voice flat.

“I… said… I wasn’t drunk… idiot…”

Nope. Still wasted.

“Just go to sleep. Your bath will be ready soon,” he’s about to leave when you lift your hand to latch weakly onto his wrist.

“Wait,” you mumble, “I… have to ask you… something.”

“What is it?”

At this, your lips turn into a pout. “I know… you’re… a liar.”

“What?”

“You…,” you gesticulate aimlessly at him—after all, finding words is such a chore when you’re hardly sober— “when we were young… you said that… you hated me because I was wearing… pink.”

Donghyuck’s breath hitches in his throat; he can’t believe you can remember that.

“Yes; what about it?”

“You’re lying. That’s… a stupid reason… for hating someone. So tell me… why exactly… do you hate me so much?”

Donghyuck feels his heartbeat pick up but he keeps his lips pursed.

“I never told you this… but… it hurts. It hurts how… you don’t even want to be friends with me…” you ramble on, lips forming a pout while your eyelids get heavier and heavier. “Why don’t you like me…” Your eyelids flutter shut and your breathing evens, and Donghyuck releases the breath he’d been holding.

Donghyuck feels the sour pang of guilt creep up on him. Granted, you’d never done anything to warrant his hate for you; he simply detests your very existence, which isn’t something you can help. It never once occurred to him that you’d be hurt by him—he didn't think he mattered to you at all. He can’t believe you still remember what he’d said to you all those years ago. Sighing, he rakes a hand through his hair; perhaps some soul-searching is in order.

He pauses for a moment, watching the way your eyelashes graze your cheekbones ever so slightly. Your cheeks and lips are flushed cherry pink from all that drinking, and a stray lock of hair spills across your face. He reaches out to draw it away from your face, marvelling at how normal you look for once; your sleeping face is so tranquil, like a child’s. No one would ever be able to guess at how you are nothing less than a perfect, infallible human being. It’s easy for him to forget how you’re the same age as him; you just seem to possess a maturity way beyond your youth that Donghyuck really can’t wrap his head around.

He gently drapes the duvet over you, and he’s about to leave when he sees that his denim jacket is still wrapped snugly around your body, though it’s a couple sizes too large for your slight frame.

He can let you have it for a little while.

—

You proudly hand your mother your school journal, decorated with pink glitter and purple felt butterflies you painstakingly cut out yourself. On the first page, the words “My Dream Job” are neatly inscribed in cursive lettering, with hearts over the i’s.

“Mrs Lee asked us to write down our dream job today,” you gush, pigtails bouncing with excitement. “Look what I wrote!”

Your mother smiles as her eyes skim over the words ‘fashion designer’. You gabble on.

“I told the class I wanted to take over your company when I grow up and become a fashion designer just like you!”

“Very good, Y/N. I’m so proud of you. I have no doubt that will happen,” she says, patting the top of your head.

“Oh, I also asked Donghyuck what he wanted to be. He said he wants to be a singer when he grows up.”

Your mother’s hand falls from your head and she frowns. “Does he?”

“Yeah. Isn’t that cool? I told him that was really cool.”

Her expression turns austere. “There’s no future in that, Y/N. You should tell him to be like you and take over his family’s company. That way he’ll be successful.”

“But he’s good at singing,” you protest, eyes shining with the memory of his voice, “and he looks so happy when he’s singing. If he’s happy, won’t he be successful too?”

—

“Do you still sing?”

Donghyuck raises an eyebrow at you as he chugs his iced coffee. “Why do you ask?”

“It’s called making conversation. It might not be in our contract, but did you intend to sit in silence until the sun sets and we go home?”

It’s your turn to pick a date, so you’ve dragged Donghyuck to a music cafe with a stage by the entrance where a teenage boy sings soulful R&B tunes. You weren’t being entirely truthful when you told him you were just making conversation; you did want to know if he still sang. To see if he was prepared for what you were about to throw him into.

“Sometimes,” he says, “maybe one day I’ll serenade you. With a song about how annoying you are.”

You resist the urge to toss your steaming mug of chamomile tea in his face. These days, after your horribly embarrassing encounter at the party (Donghyuck insists that you threw up in his car, but you don’t remember that at all), his attitude toward you seems to have shifted. Sure, he’s still mean, but not resentful. He doesn’t seem to hate you that much anymore; when he says spiteful things you can sense its teasing undertones.

You wonder what sparked this change. Shouldn’t he detest you even more? You literally threw up in his car—or so he claims. Or maybe he’s finally come to his senses and recognizes just how lovable you are.

You load up your smile like a gun.

“You do that,” you say, raising your hand to beckon someone over. To Donghyuck’s surprise, the manager of the cafe scoots over, and when he leans down you whisper something into his ear. The man chuckles and sends a curious glance at Donghyuck.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” you say, smiling sweetly and taking a sip of your coffee.

The performer ends the song, and bows to polite claps from the audience. The manager you just spoke to goes up on stage, voice filling the room.

“Thank you Jihoon, that was lovely as usual. Next up we have Lee Donghyuck—this is his first time performing, so do give him your encouragement!”

Donghyuck literally jumps in his seat and you stifle your laugh. He sends a death glare in your direction and mouths I’m going to kill you. You clap for him in response, that sweet smile never leaving your face. You’ll get it from him later, no doubt, but this is totally worth it.

Donghyuck finally gets up and trudges over to the stage. He steps up to the mic, closes his eyes for the briefest of instants, and his lips part.

You expected, after all these years, that his voice would have hardened somehow, taken on a rougher edge, flavoured with the accents of a baritone. However, Donghyuck surprises you yet again—his voice is just as airy and angelic as it was nearly a decade ago, and every line he sings is like a stream of honey pouring forth from his lips. He breezes through countless high notes effortlessly in a way that sends chills down your spine, without so much as a twitch of neck muscle; he loads every word with so much emotion that it seems like the euphonious melody is coming to life right before your very eyes. The other patrons in the cafe are spellbound, drinks and conversation long forgotten; he’s bewitched everyone, and there’s no escaping.

In short, Lee Donghyuck is still a marvellous singer. And possibly a siren.

When he’s done, it is silent for a moment, the aftereffects of his spell still lingering. And then a single clap from the manager breaks the reverie and soon everyone is applauding in awe and surprise. There are even a few cheers.

You watch as he smiles and bows bashfully before walking down the stage, leaving his five minutes of fame behind. His cheeks glow under the warm light of the cafe; he looks absolutely ethereal.

“What do you think?” He asks as he slides into his seat. You can almost feel the passion flowing from him in waves.

You stare at him, starstruck. How could you possibly tell him that you never want him to stop singing, that you actually would like to be serenaded by him, that you want to wake up and fall asleep to the sound of his voice every single day?

So you settle for, “N-Not bad.” Yes, you stuttered. You hope your cheeks won’t betray you.

Donghyuck smirks. “Really? Your face tells me something else.”

Instinctively, you place a hand on your cheek—it’s burning. You take a large gulp of coffee to hide the flames in your cheeks; Donghyuck’s smirk only grows wider.

Avoiding his gaze, you ask, “Anyway, what song was that? I’ve never heard it before.”

He rubs the back of his neck with his palm. “Actually, I wrote it.”

“You what?”

“I wrote it. Want me to announce it to everyone?”

You can’t believe it. Not only does this boy before you have the voice of an angel, he’s a lyrical genius too? The world is simply not fair.

“Wow.” You lean back in your chair, all attempts at unfazed composure gone. “That’s actually crazy. You’re actually crazy.”

You look back at Donghyuck, expecting him to look smug, but instead his lips are pursed and his gaze is downcast.

“What’s wrong? Upset that your identity as a secret genius has been exposed?”

“No, it’s just… I wrote this song for Sohui. I thought she would love it, especially since she’s always been super supportive about my singing and songwriting. But… she doesn’t like it.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. She said I should have bigger dreams now. Apparently, I can’t get anywhere with this.”

You keep silent, wondering how she could possibly say that to him. Heck, if a boy wrote you a song and serenaded you with it you’d probably get down on one knee and profess your undying love to him.

“Maybe… maybe she’s right. My parents say that all the time too. I shouldn’t be singing anymore. It’s time to grow up. You can’t make money out of dreams.”

He looks so crestfallen, the incandescent shine that had previously graced him completely vanished. That shine of passion was what set him ablaze and made him look so euphoric, and now it’s gone, like a candle snuffed out by the darkness.

You want to get it back for him. You want to see that look of pure bliss spread across his face. You want to see him shining bright and luminous again.

“So, what? You’re just going to stop singing then?” You ask, folding your arms across your chest, “I thought you were more determined than that. Once you’d set your mind on something, you wouldn’t let it go. That’s how you nursed that burning hatred you had for me, right?”

He has the good grace to blush.

You lean across the table and look him straight in the eye. “And I thought you could care less what others thought; that’s why we’re doing all this. That’s why we’re going against our parents’ will and fighting this bloody engagement. The Lee Donghyuck I know won’t go down without a fight, especially if it’s something he clearly loves so much.”

One final push. “But I could be wrong. I mean, I don’t really know you.”

Donghyuck’s head snaps upward and he stares right at you; you can see the fire in his eyes. Whether it's rage or passion, it doesn’t matter. You managed to rile him up. That was all you wanted. That’s the only way to keep his flame burning.

—

The drive home is filled with a pregnant silence. You wonder if you took it too far; after all, you and Donghyuck aren’t exactly the chummiest of friends. Maybe you overstepped the boundary a little.

But all you know is that you won’t stand by and let him give up such a blessing, something that clearly gives him so much joy. You won’t let him become an empty shell.

You of all people know how that feels.

When you reach home, you unbuckle your seatbelt and say goodbye. “Thanks for today, Donghyuck. You can choose the next date.”

You’re about to reach for the door and get out, but Donghyuck stops you with a hand on your wrist.

“Y/N,” he says, and you look at him, acutely aware of the sensation of his fingers clasped around your wrist. His gaze burns into yours in a way that makes your heart jolt and your brain question everything you ever thought you’d felt about him.

You wonder whether, in an alternate universe, things could have been different between you two.

“Thank you,” he finally says, gaze softening, the faintest hint of a smile etched on his lips.

Perhaps you melted a little.

#lee donghyuck #lee donghyuck imagines #lee donghyuck scenarios #lee donghyuck fluff #lee donghyuck angst #nct dream #nct dream fanfiction #nct dream angst #nct dream fluff #haechan scenarios #nct haechan #haechan nct #haechan fluff #haechan fanfic #haechan fanfiction #nct scenarios #nct fanfic #nct fanfiction #nct imagines

85 notes · View notes

libsterslobsters · 4 years

Text

When the Levee Breaks...

Summary: It's been three months since The Snap. The reader has a lot to cope with: newly-aquired super soldier capabilities, being a stranger in a strange place, and most of all, the loss of Bucky. But lucky for her, Steve Rogers isn't one to let his friends go through hard times alone.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem!enhanced! Reader (mentioned), Steve Rogers x fem!enhanced! Reader (platonic)

Reader has the ability to see bits of the future, understand all languages, and process information quickly as well as being a super soldier

Warnings: angst, self-destruct behavior, mentions of suicidal tendencies, mentions of mental illness, mentions of eating disorder, tiny bit of fluff.

___________________________________________

“Some times I feel I’ve got to run away, I’ve got to run away…” Her footfalls are too fast to keep in step with the song’s beat, but it still gives her some comfort to listen. Some, because really, when she’s punishing her body for the mere sake of feeling it scream at her, there’s not much comfort to be found.

“Once I ran to you, now I’ll run from you, this tainted love you’ve given-” She’s so busy concentrating on pushing herself, making herself hurt, that she doesn’t realize there’s anyone in front of her until she runs smack dab into them. “Oof!”

She’s knocked flat on her ass, but it doesn’t keep her down (no, of course not, she’s a damn super soldier now). She hops up immediately, intent on apologizing, making sure the other person is okay, and then getting back to her run, when the person she’s run into grasps her arm.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am are you-” Whoever she ran into stops short (she’s trying not to look him in the face, faces are painful to see now that she knows she’ll never see Barnes’ again), and the hand on her elbow falls away, forcing her to look up. Oh no.

“Steve.” Great. Out of all the people she had to run into, it had to be Steve Rogers. She knows most women would be absolutely thrilled to have knocked Captain America off his feet (he’s now brushing off the back of his pants, which she should probably do as well, but can’t bring herself to care), but not her. She likes Steve, really she does. They haven’t spent a lot of time together, but he is -was, he’s gone now, was- Bucky’s best friend, and they got along fine. He’s a nice guy. That’s the real problem, because-

“How’re you doing? I haven’t seen you in forever.” -he’ll ask her that. You know, being nice. Which means she’s going to have to lie.

“I’m fine. Good to see you again.” Now if he’d just get out of her way so she can get back to what she was doing.

“I didn’t know you were a runner.” Damn. He wants to have a conversation. Doesn’t he know that earbuds in means, “Don’t talk to me?” Probably not, because he’d never be that rude. Captain frickin’ America.

“I’m not.” Why did she have to say that? Now he’s looking at her in surprise, eyebrows raised, mouth open in shock.

“Then why-”

“Just thought I’d try it out. See if the super serum really is all that.” She can’t very well tell him that she’s out here hoping that the place where one of Thanos’ goons speared her through the lung (and the kidney… and the intestines… and part of her brain) wasn’t repaired as well as the doctors’ claimed and it’ll open up if she just runs fast enough, allowing her to slowly bleed out. He seems like the type to see that as a cry for help.

He chuckles. “Well, considering you were going around 65 miles per hour, I think you have your answer.” Sixty-five? That can’t be right.

“How do you know that?” He shrugs.

“ ‘Cause that’s how fast I was going, and you ran into me.” Right. Of course she’s now as fast as America’s golden boy. Because her life wasn’t bizarre enough already.

“Sorry.”

“No harm done.” She’s all prepared offer him a courtesy nod and take off again, when- “Are you hungry? Let me buy you breakfast.”

Her first thought is, “He’s flirting with me.” and her anger flares, but then she remembers who this is, and calms down. He’s being nice. Again.

“No thanks. I already ate.” She didn’t, hasn’t in two days in fact, but the damn super serum is keeping her from dropping.

“Then how about coffee?” He can’t take a hint. “Just a head’s up, the serum also keeps you from getting a buzz from the caffeine, but it still tastes the same.”

“I drink tea.” Why does she keep talking to him? The last thing she wants is to be around anyone that reminds her of whom she’s lost.

Steve smirks. “Then let me buy you a cup of tea.” Again, anger wells up in her, anger and pain, but she pushes it down. He doesn’t know about the last person who bought her a cup of tea, or what it lead to. This is just being friendly to the widow (no, they never made it that far, ex girlfriend) of his old pal.

“Please.” The megawatt smile falters for a moment. “We’ve all lost so many people that we can’t afford to let even potential friends slip away that easily.”

She doesn’t want to be his friend. Doesn’t want to be anyone’s friend. She just wants to be left alone for however long she has left until her enhanced body falters and finally gives out. But, it’s against everything she believes, whatever values she has left now that a huge part of her has disappeared like dust left behind after the snap, to return kindness with a cold shoulder. And if he’s so desperate for company...

“Okay.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

He’s never been to this coffee shop before, but he’s trying to hide that fact by studying the menu written in chalk with great concentration. In fact, he doesn’t particularly want to be here now. It’s too empty, too quiet. There’s too many people crying into their beverages of choice. But he had to come up with a valid excuse to keep her from disappearing again like she had three months ago after he told her, “I’m sorry. He’s gone. We lost him.”, and he was running low on ideas.

She looks terrible. No, correction; she looks average. He’s never seen the effects of the serum on a woman before (apart from the brief encounter with Hydra’s other super soldiers), but he’s almost certain she should look… stronger, somehow. More robust. If he’s being honest, she doesn’t even look like her old self, pre-serum.

She’s cut her hair, chopped it off unevenly, and it makes her look more severe. Or maybe that’s the fact that her cheekbones are more prominent, and although it shouldn’t be possible, she has dark circles under her eyes. She’s thinner too, although it’s unavoidable that her muscle tone has improved (at least from what he can tell; she’s in workout clothes, not the trendy kind, but a baggy t-shirt and sweatpants, and besides, he’s keeping his eyes trained respectfully on her face). In short, she looks miserable.

Eventually, they both do order, and he doesn’t so much as get the chance to ask where she’d like to sit before she makes a bee-line for the table in the corner, half-hidden by a large fern, away from everyone else. That cuts down on the chances of them being recognized, or really, mostly him.

He gives her a few minutes to stir and sip her tea before starting the enquiry.

“So how are you doing really?” She nearly drops her cup at that.

“I told you, I’m fine.” So he’s going to have to dig.

“No you’re not.” She opens her mouth, more than likely to contradict him, but he continues. “You can’t be. I’m not, and I don’t know anyone else who is.”

Her eyes narrow, and he’s reminded of something Bucky told him in passing conversation back in Wakanda. “I always know when she’s mad, and so does everyone else. Trust me, you can tell.” He was right. Her face is rapidly flushing, and her posture has completely changed.

“Fine.” She snaps, and begins tearing the label off of her drink. “I’m doing shitty. I don’t have anywhere to live, so I’ve been sleeping at a different emergency shelter every night. I don’t have a job, which means I don’t have a source of income. I don’t know anyone because I’ve never been to fucking New York before. Oh, and my fiance turned to dust in front of me. That what you wanted to hear?”

There’s so much to unpack, but first thing’s first.

“You’re staying at the shelters?” She nods.

“Most nights. Sometimes I sleep on the subway. It’s not like the seats are full anymore.”

That’s not going to cut it. He may not know her well, but he’s not going to let her be homeless. He’s about to offer up the couch in his apartment (or, more than likely once she’s actually agreed to go, the bed while he takes the couch), but out of nowhere, she bursts into tears.

“I’m sorry, Steve.” She swipes at her eyes roughly. “That was rude of me. You didn’t deserve that.” No, he didn’t, but he gets it. This is a weird time for everyone.

“It’s okay.” He attempts what he hopes is a friendly smile. “I think we’ve all earned the right to not be as polite as normal. Plus, you really are doing shitty-”

She chuckles. “Wow. Captain America swears. Who would’ve thought.”

“Don’t tell anyone.”

They sit in silence for a few more minutes, her sipping her tea, and him his… whatever this is. All the while, he’s trying to figure out the best way to shoe-horn, “Let me help you.” into casual conversation. Finally, he decides to just do it. After all, what’s the worst that can happen? She runs off again, goes back to the subway. On second thought, that’s pretty bad. Tact. This is a time for tact.

“What was it you do again? For a job, that is?”

“Did.” What? “Sorry again. Force of habit.” She meets his eyes. “I taught English as a second language, mostly to adults. That makes me a little anal about grammar.”

A teacher… that’s unfortunate, because all schools (and colleges for that matter) nation wide have suspended classes “until further notice” in the wake of Thanos. It’s possible she could submit an application now and be hired whenever they regroup, but she needs a source of income immediately.

“I also worked as a translator briefly. That is, before people started asking questions about how I was able to understand every foreign language they put in front of me without so much as a briefing.” Now that, he might be able to work with. Especially since their team has gotten a lot smaller.

“If, and it’s not a guarantee, but if I could offer you a job working with me, Nat, and what’s left of the team-” She grows a shade paler but doesn’t say anything. “-as a translator only, would you consider it?” To be honest, they could use her as more, especially with the training she received in Wakanda and her new status as a super soldier, but if her reaction is anything to judge from, the wound is too fresh for her agree to that.

“Yes.” The answer is immediate. His shock must show on his face, because she shrugs and tells him, “I’m out of funds and I don’t have a place to live. If someone offered me a job cleaning toilets, I’d take it.” That’s what gives him the courage to mention the next part.

“Is that your mindset about places to sleep too, because I have a couch that pulls out into a bed.” Her eyebrows shoot up, mouth forming a perfect “oh”. “That is, until you find a place. Or I can contact Natasha and see about renting you a hotel room-”

She shakes her head. “No, you’ve been generous enough. All of you, really. I can manage-”

“I know you can.” He feels bad about interrupting her, but this is going nowhere fast. “I know you can take care of yourself and manage on your own. But you don’t have to.” He almost adds that Bucky wouldn’t want that for her, but decides against it just in time. “If we don’t band together to help each other right now, then Thanos may as well have dusted all of us.”

She’s quiet for a few moments, studying her lap, and he thinks that he’s pushed too far. Then, with a sigh, she nods.

“Fine, but just a warning. I talk in my sleep.”

“Duly noted.”

__________________________________________________________________________________

It’s not been as bad as she thought, living with Steve. He’s an orderly guy, so she’s not picking up after him. He knocks before he enters a room, even if the door is open and gives her space. He doesn’t complain if she uses too much hot water and remembers to put the toilet seat down. If anything isn’t to her liking, all she has to do is mention it, and he immediately augments his behavior. In fact, the only disagreements they’ve had in the month and a half since she moved in have been over who gets the bedroom (he insisted on being a gentlemen and taking the couch, which she absolutely refused; she finally won by telling him that if he forced her to take the bed, she’d pack up her suitcase and leave) and who does the cooking (she said she’d do it and the laundry since she’s basically living in his apartment expense free, he said he’d do it on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays while she did it Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday, then Saturday would be takeout; he won that one because he actually likes to cook).

They don’t really hang out together, apart from occassionally watching the news. Most of their conversations are banal. How was your day, I did laundry, gas prices have gone up, do you want the shower first. Roommate talk, but just from that she can tell why Bucky liked the guy so much, why they were such good friends (especially once she discovers that sweet, polite Captain America can be a sassy son of a bitch when he wants to be). It’s all very… nice.

And still, since that first day, she hasn’t sat down with him and had a conversation. Not about anything significant that is. He’s tried several times, but she’s shut it down as quickly and politely as possible. She appreciates the effort to be her friend, take care of the brokenhearted girl that remains, but she can’t let it go that far. She knows if she lets him scratch the surface, the floodgates will open, and she’s not prepared for that. She doesn’t want to talk about Bucky. She won’t.

No, they’ll just keep being nice to each other, being agreeable until she’s got a couple of paychecks under her belt and can make a deposit on an apartment and pay him back for his kindness (which is another uphill battle, but she’ll think about that later).

That’s the plan anyway, until after a run, she realizes that it’s gone.

“No.”

She distinctly remembers leaving it on the sofa table in an ashtray that’s there for decoration only. It’s where she leaves everything; her wallet, her key to the apartment, the damn knife she purchased as a scared eighteen year old on the run from her government. But it’s not there.

Maybe it was so loose thanks to her self-inflicted emaciation that it came off while she was wearing it as she slept and it’s between the cracks in the sofa cushions? She rips them away as if they’re a bandage, finding nothing (not even lint, because she had a cleaning fit on yet another sleepless night and vacuumed). Under the couch then. Behind it. Nothing and nothing.

She’s ransacked the entire living room and is intent on moving onto the bathroom when the front door opens.

“What the-” She doesn’t bother looking up, but it doesn’t matter. He’s next to her in three strides. “Are you okay?”

She means to reassure him that she’s fine, just misplaced something, but instead what comes out is,

“It’s gone, Steve.”

“What’s gone?” Even as he speaks, she’s emptying out the trash can to make sure she didn’t acidentally throw it out (her mind’s been all over the place these days).

“My ring.” It’s the last piece she has of him. There’s a few pictures saved to her phone (which she can no longer so much as charge up), and his file which has since been given over to her care, but that’s the last physical thing she has that he left her, the last thing his fingers touched that she can touch too. And it’s gone.

“I can’t believe I lost it. I was being so careful-” She’s babbling, not even making sense to herself at this point. “-and now it’s gone. It’s gone, just like him. Fuck!” She shouldn’t be crying like a child, but there’s nothing she can do about it.

“Language.” Her head snaps up to stare at an embarassed Steve. “Sorry. Force of habit. What I mean is, why don’t I help you look for it?” She nods, and forces herself to take a deep breath.

“It was silver-” vibranium actually, but the color is more easily identifiable. “-with engraving-”

“I know what it looks like.” He interrupts sheepishly. “Trust me. He asked me, “Do you think she’ll like it” about a dozen times in ten minutes before he gave it to you.”

She never knew that, and it sends fresh tears to her eyes.

“And it’s vibranium, in case you didn’t know. Said it needed to be-”

“Strong and adaptable.” She recites back. Same as you. That’s what he told her when he slipped it on her finger, explaining why there wasn’t a stone. She doesn’t feel like either of those things. Not since he went, and she stayed. “I know.”

“Alright.” He nods. “When did you last have it?”

“Before my run. I took it off so I wouldn’t lose it.” She laughs bitterly. So much for that.

“Then you check your bag and the bathroom. I’ll give this room another look and search the kitchen? Sound like a plan?” She’s out of the room without a reply.

The bathroom turns up nothing, and despite upending her backpack, purse, and the pockets of each various piece of clothing, there’s no sign of it. So that’s it then. She’s lost him, down to the final shred.

Starvation, over-exertion, lack of sleep: none of it has taken her down so far, but knowing that it’s over, she can’t even hold onto that little piece of him, is what finally makes her legs give out from underneath her as she collapses in a heap.

She hears his footsteps long before he enters the cramped bathroom, but she doesn’t lift her head. At this point, she’s not even sure if she can. If heartache really can kill a person, she won’t be here for much longer. And, if Steve wants to survey the damage, she won’t stop him. She’s too weak to hide it anymore.

“You haven’t eaten anything today.” It’s not a question, so she doesn’t bother to answer. “Or yesterday. I’m not sure about the day before because it looked like you tried the meatloaf, but you could’ve squirreled it away in your napkin while I wasn’t looking.” He’s right. That’s exactly what she did.

Her eyes are closed, but her enhanced senses let her know the moment he sits down next to her, a respectful distance away, of course.

“You could be suicidal. You could have an eating disorder or another mental illness. Or you could just not care anymore. My bet’s on the last one.” What’s there to care about? She has no family. No friends. She has a job now, sure, but they could easily find another translator.

“You don’t care, and you’re grieving. That’s a dangerous combination. Was when I came out of the ice with everyone I loved either dead or dying, and it still is.”

His hand settles on her shoulder. Just lightly. Not so much a grasp or a pat as an assurance, an “I’m here.”

“You need to talk to someone about it. Maybe not me, but someone. You don’t want to go on, but like it or not, you’re here. You’ve gotta find a way to keep going. Maybe find something like a purpose eventually.” He sighs. “I’m gonna get you a glass of water and I’ll be right back.”

“I miss him.” She’s not sure when she decided to say it, or even if she did. “So much.” Steve doesn’t say anything, so she takes it as a sign to continue. “I know I don’t have any right to say that. You knew him for so much longer than I did, and you’re not falling to pieces. But I feel like half of me has been ripped away, and I don’t know how to live without it.” Her voice is barely above a whisper. “I’m not even sure I want to.”

He sighs, and she gathers what little strength she has left to apologize. She shouldn’t talk to him about this. That’s like comparing your stubbed toe to the man who’s had his foot amputated. But before she can do any of that, she hears a muffled thump. She should care what it is, but she doesn’t. That is, until she realizes that Steve is now lying on the floor with her.

“Now that we’re both about as low as we can go-” The corners of her lips turn up despite herself. “-I miss him too. A lot. But not the same way you do.” She would assume not. After all, that would be weird. “There’s a girl I miss like that. Her name was Peggy. But, that’s a conversation for another day.

“I’m not gonna tell you it gets better, because it doesn’t. I’m not gonna tell you you’ll move on, because I haven’t. What I’ll tell you is you learn to live with it. Eventually it hurts less to talk about them, or to even think about them. It still hurts, don’t get me wrong, but it’s more good than bad. Sometimes it helps to talk about them with someone else. For me at least, it’s like I’m keeping her alive. But it’s okay if that’s not something you can do right now. When you’re ready, I’ll be more than happy to take a trip down memory lane if you want.” She nods, still not lifting her head. “Okay. I’ll keep my calendar open. Now, I really need to get you that glass of water.”

He’s nearly out the door when she manages to croak out, “Thank you. For being nice to me. It’s good of you to look after your best friend’s…” What is she now? “...old flame.”

“You’re welcome, and just so you know, I’m not doing this because you’re Bucky’s girl. I’m doing this you because I think we could both use a friend right now. A real one.”

It’s only after he leaves the room that she feels something digging into her hip and discovers the ring in her pocket.

___________________________________________________________________________________

It’s convenient, her moving just down the hall from him. Especially since they had that little talk, and now Steve actually considers her a close friend. She’s looking better now, back to eating and drinking. Sleep is still dubious, and over the past few months, he’s woken multiple times to her screams coming from the living room. At first he ran in, thinking there was an intruder. Now he knows to crouch next to the pullout mattress and shake her shoulder until she wakes up. Occassionally there’s tears. Often there’s a midnight conversation about whichever funny memory they can think of to lighten the mood. As she’s come back to herself, bit by bit, he’s starting to see why Bucky was tied up in knots over her. It’s obvious they were good together in a way that can’t be replicated.

The one thing that hasn’t gone by the wayside is her running, and that’s one he’s not going to touch, because he does the same thing. In the morning, they both take off just as the sun is rising (in opposite directions to avoid anymore collisions), and once whoever’s pushing the envelope on how much distance they can really cover is done, they meet up, have breakfast, and start work.

Natasha keeps giving him not-so-subtle hints that he should ask her out, but that’s never gonna happen. Even if you took away the greiving and both of them still being in love with other people, she’s just not his type. He can’t see her as anything but a good friend at the least and an annoying little sister at the most, and he knows the feeling is mutual.

That’s part of the reason why he doesn’t bother knocking before using his key to step into her apartment, a bag full of things she’s left behind in his hands. She’s not in the living room or the kitchen, and even though they lived together for a solid four months, he’s not about to cross his boundaries and go any further into her place without permission. So he takes a seat on the couch (his old one which is now hers because she claims she’s gotten used to the lumps and can’t sleep without them) and waits for her to appear.

A good fifteen minutes pass before he hears footsteps approaching the apartment and the sound of singing. He recognizes the voice immediately because of the times she’d sing in the shower, but the song is unfamiliar. More than likely, she’s still got her earbuds in and hasn’t realized she’s giving a free concert to anyone in earshot.

“Got the sunshine on my shoulders, got a fist full of four-leaf clovers. Yeah, my cup runneth over. My sky is blue.” Cheerful, and a catchy melody. Maybe he’ll ask her the name so he can look it up. You can find any song you like nowadays on one little app.

“Been kissed by lady luck, the stars are all lined up. Every arrow that I aim is true-” The key turns in the lock and he starts to stand. “-but I miss you.” Some pains never completely fade, but at least they’re talking about it. That has to be worth something.

#marvel #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x oc #bucky fic #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #the winter soldier #captain america #steve rogers

20 notes · View notes

what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

Text

What The Stark Spangled F**k?

One Shot- Finding Rori

Summary: Rori gets a pet. And hilarity/chaos ensues.

Warnings: Bad language words…

A/N: This came to me yesterday and is inspired by my own fairground goldfish, Evans, who is 5 this year. This one fits in the timeline after “Changes”

The Rogers household for once, was reasonably quiet. It was a Saturday afternoon and both Jamie and Aurora were out with Bucky and Sam, leaving Katie and Steve with just Harry (and bump, which was still in the very small, early bump stages being 16 weeks or so). Katie was led on the sofa, Stark squashed alongside her n his back whilst she read a book and Steve was led on the rug with Harry, the pair of them drawing on a large piece of paper using the crayons that Stark hadn’t eaten. The little boy was happily colouring along, grinning and talking to his Dad as he went, occasionally glancing up at Moana which was playing on the TV, sometimes he would start to imitate the singing, causing Katie to glance up and watch him, smiling softly. Out of their 3 born kids, he had without doubt been the easiest one to deal with. He hardly ever cried or made a fuss, never complained, he was such a placid little boy. The pair of them had no idea who he took after as neither of them were known for their patience or calmness really. And frankly, compared to his sister who could be the biggest pain in the ass on the planet, it was a welcome change. Which was why they liked to make time for him on his own as when the other 2 were around, they demanded all the attention, something which Katie hated, and Steve knew was worrying her about when baby number 4 arrived.

But their peace was shattered as the security system alerted them to the fact the gate had been opened by “Bucky Barnes” and Steve glanced up at the clock. It was gone 5, he hadn’t realised it was getting that late in the day. He let out a sigh, and exchanged a look with Katie who had placed her book down in preparation for the onslaught.

“BUCKY…BUCKY!” Steve yelled as Harry grinned, joining in and clapping.

“I told you not to buy her a damned goldfish Bucky!” Steve looked at him, shaking his head

“I didn’t.” Bucky shrugged “I won her one.”

“Fisheee!” Harry said as he toddled over to Rori to get a closer look.

“That’s…that’s a technicality!” Steve spluttered before he looked at Sam who shook his head.

“I had nothing to do with this man.”

“Don’t lie Uncle Sam.” Jamie said, dropping onto the sofa, Stark licking his face “You helped Rori pick the tank in the pet store.” “Traitor” Sam narrowed his eyes at him.

“You…” Steve pointed at Bucky as he stood up from the rug “Are the biggest jerk ever, you know that?”

Bucky grinned innocently as Rori turned to Katie who examined the fish before she gave a shake of her head and sighed.

“Well it’s hear now so we might as well set the tank up.” And just like that, the Star Spangled Diva once more got her own way, as half an hour or so later, said bastard fish was safely in its new home, the tank sitting on the corner unit in the den where Steve had placed it once it had been filled and the ornaments arranged EXACTLY how Rori wanted them.

“I think we should call it Klaus.” Jamie said.

“What the hell kinda name is that?” Bucky looked at him.

“The fish from American Dad.” Jamie shrugged.

“Ok, ok two things…” Steve looked at Jamie “One, me and your Ma told you that you were far too young to watch that and therefore were not allowed and two, I echo what Buck just said, what the hell kinda name is that?”

“The fish can talk.” Jamie said “And he’s German, used to be a guy until the CIA turned him into a fish and-“ “Ok, just no.” Steve shook his head “The fish is not being called Klaus and if I catch you watching that again, I’m gonna take the plug off your TV” “Oh come on dad, like you didn’t watch shows you weren’t allowed to when you were my age.” Jamie protested and Katie gave a snort.

“Yeah, like TV existed back then…” Sam snorted.

Jamie frowned for a moment before a look of realisation spread across his face “Oh yeah…” “Most Exciting thing we saw was the Wizard of Oz.” Bucky said, nostalgically “Man, Technicolour…what a revelation.” “That’s so whack.” Jamie mumbled.

“Ok, now you’re talking and I’m hearing words but…” Steve shrugged and grinned as Jamie aimed a dig at him which Steve easily dodged. The two began to play spar with one another, their laugher and exclamations getting louder until Rori cut across the noise as she moved her head from where she was looking at the fish in its tank. “I’m going to call her Dori.” she said. Steve stopped what he was doing, which allowed Jamie to land a punch to his arm, which in all fairness was pretty fucking hard.

“I said her name. Imma call her Dori, like in Finding Nemo and Finding Dori…” she shrugged “And it’s like my name…”

“Dori and Rori.” Katie grinned at her daughter “Hey, Finding Rori…gedddit?”

Rori grinned and Hi-Fived her Momma the pair of them laughing whilst Steve and Jamie exchanged a look.

“Nah, I think you should call it Dot.” Bucky said simply. Steve turned to look at him. “What? It’s orangey red…so was her hair…”

“No,it’s Dori” Rori corrected him.

“Dot is better.”

“Dori!”

“Dot!”

“DORI MY FISH, MY NAME UNCLE BUCKY!” Rori stamped her foot. And Katie turned to look at her, a firm expression on her face but it was Steve that issued the warning.

“Aurora enough!” he said sternly “Stop it, and you…” he pointed at Bucky who grinned at him “Stop antagonising her”

“Chaos, confusion…my work here is done…” Bucky grinned, giving Steve a salute. “Same time next week?”

******* It was a few weeks later when disaster struck…

“Steeeeeeve!” Katie’s yell hit his ears and he stiffened slightly, before he put down his mug and hurried out of the kitchen and into the den.

“What’s wrong?” he frowned. She simply pointed to the corner of the room where Dori’s tank sat and he saw the orange fish bobbing on the surface.

Dead

“Oh fuck.” He swallowed. “How did that happen?”

“Well, I’m no expert but I suspect the half disintegrated cookie at the bottom of the tank might be something to do with it.” Katie sighed.

“I told her not to feed it them.” Steve groaned.

“You’re gonna have to go get a new one.” Katie looked at him “Before she gets back because I can’t cope with a diva meltdown Steve, not today.”

“Me?” Steve looked at her

“Yes, you.” Katie said. “I was up all night as you know, I can’t stop puking, I’m tired and you’re not in today and…”

“S’up Punk?” Bucky greeted him.

“Me and you got a mission, a big mission.” Steve said, “Meet me at the Coffee shop in 30.”

“I need one of these” Steve explained, showing the fish to him.

“You need a goldfish, Sir?” “Yeah but it needs to look exactly like this one.” Steve said.

“Think she’ll notice?” Steve asked, looking at Katie.

“Shit…” Katie mumbled, as they both headed into the room.

“Everything ok?”

“Why does Dori have a white spot on her tail?” Rori looked at her mom and dad.

“Where?” Steve frowned.

“There!” She exclaimed, pointing. Steve leaned down to look and there was the tiniest white spot on the tip of the fish’s tail, no bigger than a pin prick.

A little later, once Jamie, Rori and Harry were in bed, Katie and Steve sat down to dinner.

“I can’t believe we pulled it off.” Steve sighed, spearing a piece of broccoli with his fork “I mean, of all the missions we’ve run…”

Katie chuckled, “You know, when I was a kid I had a goldfish. Tony got him for my 8th birthday, called him Flounder, you know after the fish in the little mermaid?”

“Yeah?” Steve looked at her.

Steve paused, his fork raised halfway to his mouth before he gave a groan. “So basically I’ve turned into Tony?”

“There are worse people you could have become.” Katie snorted as Steve shook his head, swallowing his food.

“Wonder where she gets that from?” Steve looked at her “I mean, can you blame me? She’s basically Tony with your looks.”

You little shit.

“5 bucks.” Steve opened the negotiation.

“15.” shot back Jamie.

“10.”

“Deal.” Jamie grinned. “Night dad.” “Yeah, whatever…” Steve grumbled, closing the bedroom door behind him. He stopped dead as he saw Katie looking at him, her hands on her hips.

“Did you seriously just let him do that?” she shook her head.

“Do you wanna deal with a diva tantrum?”

“Steve, he just completely…”

“I know what he did, Doll.” Steve sighed, following her into their room “And for the record, this is on you.” “Me?” she frowned as he reached out, his arms wrapping around her from behind, hands softly cupping her bump. “Yes, because that part of him that just blackmailed me, was 100% Stark.” he said, placing a kiss to her neck.

Katie tilted her head and looked at him with narrowed eyes. He arched an eyebrow at her and she gave a snort, shaking her head. “Who knew your own daughter would be your downfall.”

“She’s Tony but with your looks.” Steve shrugged “What do you expect?”

“Well…” she mused “You said you’d give him 10 bucks but you didn’t say when. You can point this out to him tomorrow, if he wants it he can have it when he’s tidied his room.” “That’s…sneaky” Steve grinned.

“Fight fire with fire Soldier.” she smirked “You pointed out he’s half Stark…well, I’m 100% Stark, which means I can out Stark him all day long.”

#what the stark spangled fuck #stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers x original female character #katie stark

75 notes · View notes

princessjungeun · 4 years

Text

Champion

Content warning: violence, blood, fighting, bullying-ish? Talk of homelessness and family issues

The reader i wrote as a black, queer, female. If you don’t like that oh well, use your imagination then :)

You didn’t necessarily choose the flighting life, it chose you. Growing up you didn’t have the picture perfect family that many had. To be honest you couldn’t even really say you had a family. That was until you met Matthew, known as BM.

Before meeting BM you were sleeping on benches, in hostels, or in a kind older woman’s house. One night you were approached by a young man in his late 20s. He offered you a place to stay, he’s pay for your school, and whatever else you needed. At the time you were only a young teenager, so going with him could be risky. But winter was coming and you knew you’d end up dead if you stayed on the streets.

Matthew knew you weren’t straight from the day he met you. He saw how broken you were from not having a family and he understood to a certain degree what that felt like. He knew if he left you on the streets, itd be dangerous for you. A young, black, queer, female didn’t belong on the streets.

BM kept his word and took care of you as if you were his younger sister. He was a trainer by day and fighter by night, competing in UFC fights every weekend. He told you constantly that you were going to learn to fight, but her never actually trained you.

You had a lot of past issues and traumas which contributed to some of the internal anger you had. Matthew often told you that if you tried fighting or even just swinging at his heavy bag, it’d help you feel better. But you always pushed the idea away not wanting to waste time on a coping mechanism you know probably wouldn’t work. He’d asked time and time again if there was anything he could do to help, but you always refused. The thing was you weren’t one to open up about yourself. Besides Matthew you didn’t know anyone really. Even in school, nobody talked to you other than your best friend, Hyunjin and your girlfriend Lia.

You and Hyunjin bonded over the fact that you two lived almost similar lives. He understood a lot of the things you went through and how you feel now.

Whereas Lia...she was different. Lia was the first person you ever met that made you feel something. Lia was the only person that could make you smile by doing absolutely nothing. You definitely don’t look like the type to be with someone like her but you’d go to any length to protect her. Even if it meant you got in trouble, you had nothing to lose anyways.

This was put to the rest one day in school while you and Lia were passing to classes together. You ended up getting in a fight and badly injuring another student.

When BM came to pick you up, he saw the male student you beat up being driven to a hospital. No charges were pressed as you were doing it in self defense, as you had many witnesses to help you defend your case.

You sat at the kitchen table as he yelled at you furiously. “What the fuck are you thinking Y/N?!” You looked down and said “leave it alone i’m not in trouble with the law, his parents aren’t pressing charges.” Matthew asked, anger laced in his voice “that doesn’t matter you could have killed him.” You responded bluntly “but i didn’t. Isn’t that right? Plus you don’t even know what happened!”

The two of you went back and forth for minutes before you were both calm enough to actually explain in detail what happened. “I was in the hallway with my....uh- Lia and this boy touched her ass. And then I told him he needed to apologize and he pushed me and told me to fuck off. Then I told him if he touched me again I’d beat his ass...and he pushed me to the floor and I told him again to apologize to Lia. But then he threw Lia to the ground then punched me in the face. So I started hitting him and I-I guess I lost control.”

Matthew sat in silence for a moment then he said “you’re gonna learn to control it. Come on, get up.” You asked “huh?” He repeated himself “I said get up.” You groaned then followed him outside to the garage. There, hanging from the ceiling was a heavy bag, and weights littered across the floor. Putting gloves on your hand he said “punch me.” Looking at him with wide eyes you said “wha-no I’m not going to-” He yelled “PUNCH ME GODDAMN IT!” You did as he said and full force threw a punch. He caught your hand in his, looking at your fist in his hand he smiled.

It was now that he decided that he was going to take a break from competing so he could train you. In the beginning he was afraid you’d get hurt, although he wasn’t your blood relative, he took care of you like one.

You trained before and after school with Matthew. Running mile after mile, throwing punch after punch, push up after push up. You never got a break unless you were seriously injured. Matthew showed no mercy, although you were like his baby sister, he needed you to be the best fighter in the circuit.

Nobody in school knew exactly what you were doing, but it was evident at the growing muscles in your legs and arms. Also the fact that you were constantly bringing meal prepped food Matthew made for you as your lunch.

You girlfriend grew suspicious of what you were building strength and muscle for, but she never asked. She told herself that if you wanted to share with her what was going on, you’d do it on your own time.

Eventually the day came for your first fight. Matthew woke you up in the morning and you both took a light jog in the morning. He didn’t want to overwork you before your big day.

•

Hours passed as you anxiously awaited your first fight. You were nervous but you tried to play it off, but Matthew could read you like a book. “You’ll do fine. I trained you well. Make me proud ok?” He hugged you and kissed your forehead, this was the first time he truly showed affection to you.

He helped you braid down your hair so it was out of your face. “Look at me.” He held your face in his hands as he applied a thin layer of Vaseline to your face. “It’ll help make the punches slide off...sounds weird but it works.” You let him grease up your face before saying a quick prayer that you’d be ok.

When you walked into the arena loud shouts filled the building. You did your best to not look terrified but it definitely didn’t work. Matthew removed your robe before telling you “it’s fine. Your opponent is a rookie like you, she hasn’t done this before ok? Relax and concentrate...and don’t kill her.” You nodded before doing a quick handshake with him and walking into the ring.

The overhead speaker filled the arena “For the first Rookie fight of the night We have Y/LN Y/N of Korea vs Pranpriya Manoban of Thailand!” You looked up at the girl in front of you, she was definitely at least 21 whereas you were still a minor, almost an adult. The two of you shook hands before starting.

Pranpriya put up a good fight, but you won fairly quickly. You ended up coming out with a busted lip to show for your victory while Pranpriya was knocked out on the floor. Matthew shouted wildly, incredibly proud of you. A smile creeped onto your face as the referee held your arm up, indicating that you won.

•

Fight after fight you won, gaining attention of not only Korean citizens, but internationally as well. You remained the youngest rookie in the circuit, as well as the youngest with the most wins.

You gained the name Ali after Muhammad Ali, although you weren’t a boxer, you had the passion, the strength, and humbleness of Ali.

People talked about you wherever you went. There were constantly cameras following you and Matthew. Lia is still your girlfriend as well. For a while she didn’t know you fought, as she didn’t keep up with UFC news. When she found out she refused to come to your fights. Even though you won almost everytime, she couldn’t bear seeing you get hit.

The only fight Lia agreed to attend was the first and only one you lost. Without a doubt you didn’t make it easy, but you didn’t tap out when you should have. The result was brutal. It was against a champion, Ha Sooyoung. She was a rookie like you but she was known to be violent, beating her opponents until they were just barely able to walk out the ring. Many asked why she was still allowed to fight, as many thought she was violating some type of rule. As it turns out she wasn’t. Sooyoung never once broke a rule.

Sooyoung not much older than you but she was far better at that time. She was known to be vicious and quite talkative in the ring. She’d say anywhere from one word, to a full lecture. Her words got to her opponents easily, making her lethal. At the time you weren’t worried about her, but you learned the hard way not to be so nonchalant. You started out winning but slowly your chance of victory faded.

Making sure to not stay in one place, you walked around the ring. You’d already gotten punched in the face so much your lip was busted, nose with dry blood, and a puffy eye. Out of the corner of your eye you saw your girlfriend watching you.

Sooyoung followed your gaze before smirking and going in for another jab. You fell to the ground and Sooyoung climbed on top of you. At this point your vision was practically gone, your ears ringing. You could hear Matthew shouting for you to fight back, but you couldn’t push Sooyoung off. You felt pain sear through your body punch after punch, kick after kick.

“She’s teasing you! Tap out Y/N! ITS FINE TAP OUT PLEASE!” You heard Matthew shout from the side of the ring. Although you didn’t know what to do, you knew for a fact you weren’t going to tap out, you’re not a quitter. You felt Sooyoung throw a punch, this time hitting your lower ribs. Wind knocked out of your chest and you gasped for air. You felt your body cry for help but you weren’t letting up.

As the last of your adrenaline flowed through your veins you went to punch Sooyoung in the head, but she grabbed your arm. She smirked once more before whispering “K.O.” Everything went black and you fell back against the ground.

Due to that loss you needed a break from fighting to heal. You suffered a concussion, three broken ribs, a broken nose, a broken jaw, ruptured apendex, 3 stitches in your lip and 8 over your eye. The healing process was beyond terrible for you, as all you wanted to do was train again. Your doctor told you that you were lucky, if she punched you at another angle you would have died.

Although you were grateful she didnt go through and do the complete worst, she did get you pretty good. Once you fully healed you weren’t able to forget that night. Solely because of the scar that ran down your eye. Matthew jokingly called you Scar, as your scar closely resembled the Lion King character’s.

You continued training as soon as you got clearance from your doctor. Once again you remained a champion against everyone, except Sooyoung. You’ve never fought her after that night, as much as you wanted to, there was still a fear that she’d do much worse than she already did.

Now you were weeks away from the World Champions. You could have gone last year if you hadn’t lost that fight. It was set that you were to fight the one opponent that you’ve never beaten, Ha Sooyoung.

•

“Baby.” You shook Lia’s leg and she looked up at you, “Hmmm?” You asked “I know you don’t like coming to my fights anymore...but worlds is in a few weeks and it’d mean a lot if you were there.” She responded “of course I’ll go see you at worlds, do you know who you’re fighting?” You nodded and carefully said “um...funny story.”

You stopped for a minute then decided to just rip off the bandaid. “Ha Sooyoung.” Lia froze in your embrace.

“Is that a good idea? I mean I’m not saying you’re a bad fighter...obviously you’re amazing but- She almost killed you Y/N.” She brought a hand up to your face and ran her fingers along the scar on your eye. Lia softly said “I don’t want to lose you.” You kissed her lips softly and said “it’s fine, this time I’ll win. I promise you will never lose me.”

Matthew flung the door to your room open, “What did I tell you about closing the door all the way?” You both in unison said “sorry it won’t happen again.” He nodded and said “Y/N come on we need to practice.” You nodded and stood up, kissing your girlfriend goodbye.

•

Finally the day of World Championships came. You didn’t feel the nerves hit until you were in the ring. Everyone around you was screaming your name, a few cheering for Sooyoung. She looked different this time. Her hair was short now, she looked bigger, stronger. But so were you.

Sooyoung got you pretty good the first round, your cheek starting to bruise from a punch she threw. Your leg already in slight pain from a kick and elbow jab.

She moved around you, eyeing to see if you’d look away. She made a move to kick your side, she missed. Your eyes locked with hers and she smirked “wheres your little girlfriend? Lia is it?” You ignored her but she continued talking “she’s pretty that one. Pretty eyes. Soft smile. That cute dimple, she’s cute don’t you think?”

Your opponent continued to taunt you, knowing from her first victory that Lia was your weak spot. You’d gotten quite a few punches and kicks in, but nothing that was putting you at an advantage.

Sooyoung walked up on you this time trying to knock you to the ground. Quickly you maneuvered around her, so now she was the one on the ground. The two of you went at it, dodging slaps, punches, and elbow jabs.

She ended up rolling over so now you were below her, your one arm underneath her leg. Sooyoung delivered a hard punch to your shoulder and she smiled when you winced in pain. She asked “this is what happened last time right? And your little girlfriend watched me damn near beat the life out of you? It’s a shame she’s going to have to see that again don’t you think?”

You felt her fist collide with your side, she without a doubt broke the same ribs she did before. Putting you in a headlock you felt panic rush through your body. Her voice laced with venom “when will you learn? You can’t beat me. I hope you told her you loved her.” Sooyoung swung again knocking you square in the cheek. As your eyes started to flutter shut, breath escaping too fast for more to come in, a familiar voice ripped through the arena “Y/N!”

Lia

Your eyes flew open at the sound of your girlfriend’s panicked screams. With all your strength you jammed your elbow into Sooyoungs side. She let go of you and with all your strength you rolled over, Sooyoung now beneath you. You could see the look of fear in her eye as your fists collided with her body. Seeing nothing but red you continued punching and slapping her, squeezing your thighs around her torso.

Blood spilled from her nose and ear, her lip busted, eye swollen shut. You jabbed her ribs again, letting your strength and anger take control of you. Even when she’s long been unconscious you were still hitting her. Two large referees pulled you off of her, tears stinging your eyes as you cried out of frustration.

The arena fell silent as you all waited to see if Sooyoung would get up, the countdown boomed through the speakers. “3! 2!-” As it was about to hit one Sooyoung’s eyes fluttered open and she staggered to get up. She limped over to you, looking even more angry than she was before.

Sooyoung wiped blood from her eye before saying “you thought it’d be that easy?” Without hesitation you stepped closer before roundhouse kicking her in the temple. She fell to the floor and this time she definitely wasn’t getting up without help. Screams of your name ripped through the arena and you looked at the referee who deemed you the winner.

Still in shock you didn’t really understand what was happening until you were handed the World Champions belt. You posed for the pictures that were to be taken, however you didn’t smile. It was evident that you were still confused.

When the gate to the ring opened you saw Lia and Matthew standing with proud smiles. You dropped the heavy belt into Matthew’s arms as soon as you could. Throwing yourself into Lia’s arms you sobbed heavily, thanking God you were able to walk out victorious.

The small girl under your embrace held you tight, with every passing second she held you closer. Finally she broke and she cried “I was so scared I was going to lose you”. You pulled away and wiped away her tears “I promised you I wasn’t going anywhere.” You held her face in your hands before kissing her again.

The referee shoved you back into the ring, this time Sooyoung was gone. The only traces remaining of the young Korean woman was her blood stained on the floor.

Balloons and confetti rained from the ceiling, people’s shouting your name filled the arena.

“Ladies and gentlemen. We now have our 2020 UFC World Champion! Y/N ‘ALI’ Y/L/N!” You held the championship belt over your non injured shoulder with a smile.

Once again you were the champion.

#kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #itzy imagines #itzy scenarios #choi jisu #loona imagines #loona scenarios #loona sooyoung #loona yyxy #loona yves #ha sooyoung

50 notes · View notes