#i’ll prob give y’all a heads up before i drop the chapter

[aquaquadrant]

life update. doctors HATE her: local author in complete remission for severe crohn’s disease after just one week of treatment.

jk but also not really?? i had my first infusion a couple weeks back and not only did i see improvement literally the next day, but by the end of the first week all my symptoms had disappeared entirely. not just the GI stuff, but my mouth ulcers, joint pain, and episcleritis too. it cleared up so quickly and so completely that it honestly didn’t even feel like i had crohn’s anymore.

… right in time for finals week LMAO but the good news is that i got thru it, school is finally over and done with (third year in the bag) and other than studying for my navle in the fall, i’m off the hook til end of summer.

WHICH MEANS... writing time. oh boy am i excited. i don’t wanna promise a specific date but i had already been chipping away at the next htp chapter and now there’s nothing to stop me from giving it my full attention. so uh, keep an eye out for that 💃

[metamorphosisff]

|Chapter 4| Something Good

Picked up another shift. Please watch Papi.

I groan as I look at the time on my phone. In ten minutes I’m supposed to be leaving to go to this stupid meeting and now I would have a plus one. There was no way I could back out of either commitment so I texted back: No probs. Taking him with me. We’ll be back before you. 

Being that she is at work, I don’t expect her to text me back. I take a quick glance at my outfit, high rise baby blue shorts, obnoxious cowboy belt that belonged to my father, a baby doll t-shirt and on my feet are a worn pair of navy Converse. My hair is pulled up into a ballerina bun of braids because it’s too hot for anything else. I managed to coat my eyelashes with mascara, add a pinch of blush to my cheeks and some gloss. It’s the best I can do and all I have time for since I’m now babysitting. Grabbing my purse, I lock up my apartment before going across the hall and letting myself in.

“PAPI,” I yell from the doorway. 

He has a Lil Baby song blasting from the direction of his bedroom but he’s still able to hear me. His ears are trained to listen out for our voices. Within seconds I hear him jogging out of his bedroom.

“What’s up Auntie?” he asked. I’m glad to see he’s still dressed in a Marvel Avengers t-shirt and basketball shorts. Typical fifth grader attire.

“Go grab your backpack and your shoes. We’re going out and we need to leave like now if I’m going to be on time,” I replied, looking at the time again on my phone.

“Aight, I’m going,” he said, heading off to do what I said. He is used to being dragged all over the place and knows not to question it.

It takes us five minutes to reach the train because I make us speed walk to cut down the time. We barely catch the F but we do. I’m thankful the meeting is in Midtown because the train switches to express after a few stops. On the way to the church we stopped at McDonalds so that I can get Papi, a double cheeseburger and some fries for dinner. I’m now flat broke but it’ll only be for two days so it’s fine. Hustling him along, I spot Jazz outside of the church smoking a Newport which she ashes once she sees Papi is with me. Her long nails glitter in every direction.

“You have a son?” Jazz asks, with a raised brow while tucking the wavy jet black strands she normally wore in braids behind her gold jeweled ear.

“Nephew. Sorry to keep you waiting,” I said, which she waved off.

“I just got here myself and people still arriving take a breath,” Jazz says to me before turning to Papi. “Hello young man. I’m Jazz.”

“Hey, I’m Papi,” Papi says.

I watch as they share a fist bump and run my fingers through Papi’s dense curls. “This is a meeting for adults so I’m going to give you my headphones. I want you to eat and then do your homework,” I said.

He nods his head and together we all walk inside. We follow the other two people who enter with us to the basement and into a large room on the right. The chairs are all set up in a circle and there is a table for refreshments where people are loading up on sweets and cups of soda. Xavier spots us immediately.

“Hey ladies, glad y’all stopped by. Who’s this?” Xavier says, smiling down at Papi.

“Name is Papi, who is you?” Papi asks, stepping in front of me. Jazz has a good laugh at this little boy's brazen behavior. I place my hands lightly on his shoulders as a silent reminder for him to mind himself.

Xavier chuckles and says, “I’m Xavier lil man. Nice to meet you.”

“Mhm I’ll be the judge of that,” Papi says.

“Alright Papi that’s enough, this is my friend, drop the machismo act,” I said, lightly tugging on a curl.

“Mhm well friend, jury is out on you. Where can I sit?” Papi asked, scanning the room like I previously had.

“There’s actually a room next door with some more kids with Ms. Marsha, a deaconess here at the church, keeping watch,” Xavier said.

“Papi go and please spare Ms. Marsha that mouth,” I said, turning him around by his shoulders.

“Fine but I’m telling Ma’ you hiding a man. You don’t have friends,” Papi scoffs, before scurrying out of the room.

“Little brat,” I said with a shake of my head. He’s wrong about the man thing but not about the fact that I don’t have friends. Damn, did he need to blurt my business like that though?

“Brother?” Xavier asks with a chuckle.

“Nah, nephew. He’s ten going on forty,” I said with a shake of my head, refusing to let a kid embarrass me. My eyes scan the room again.“There’s a lot of people here, you don't need new recruits.”

“Eh it’s a rotating cast. I see the look in your eyes, give it a chance,” Xavier urges.

“Right, give it a chance,” Jazz says, mouth filled with a powder donut. “I’m going to go take a seat. You are not allowed to sit by me.”

I stare at Jazz sashay away with an open mouth while Xavier chuckles beside me. “I’ve been hustled.”

“The old school way too but it’s okay. You can sit by me,” Xavier says.

“Sure, just give her what she wants,” I say with a roll of my eyes. He doesn’t follow me as I fill a plate up with pastries that will most likely also double as dinner. I choose water over soda to help balance out all of the sweets. 

By the time I’ve finished, almost everyone has taken a seat. Jazz, true to her word, makes sure there are people flanking both of her sides. I shoot her an evil eye as I sit in the folding chair Xavier has saved for me. All that earns me is an air kiss blown in my direction. 

“Alright, I think it’s safe to begin now,” Xavier starts, clapping his hands twice to gain everyone’s attention. “Welcome to anyone who’s new,” a glance in my direction causes me to roll my eyes again which he smirks at before continuing, “We don’t exchange names here unless you want to. Please refrain from dropping any other name but your own. Other than that, who wants to kick off ‘That Bullshit’.”

The name of the group is accurate as I listen to at least ten people describe what “that bullshit” was in their life. The stories ranged from petty offenses attached to neighbors and heart breaking ones that dealt with abusive exes. Though through it all, this group recanted things through the lens of humor. All of the situations were shitty in their own right but no one had a ‘woo is me’ attitude about it. They owned what they were going through and some even owned their parts in the situations. It gave me a lot to think about as Xavier finally called the meeting to a close. Jazz so wonderfully offered to get Papi from the room next door in order for us to talk.

“So what did you think?” Xavier asks, shoving his hands into the pockets of his shorts as we step out into the night.

The air is thick, slightly cooler than before but still warm enough to break into a sweat if one tries hard enough. I let my eyes meet his as I shrug my shoulders. “I’m not sure, I am still processing everything that I heard. Why did you want me to come?”

“Honestly?” he said, to which I nodded my head. “You look like you keep a lot inside. Like the quips you dole out are masking what you can’t yet find words for. I thought coming here might show you that there's a way to get some of that out of your system free of the expectation to say the right thing.”

His explanation hits me right in the chest as it is exactly what I had admired about the group. Everyone spoke from the heart without shame or fear or anything really. It looked freeing. I had been in my cage too long to join them but I did take note.

“I do,” I breathed out, crossing my arms over my chest. “The way I’ve come up, it’s easier to eat the punches than to keep fighting against them. I swallow my anger until someone or something pushes it out and then…

“Then you end up with a snazzy orange vest on the side of the road with me,” he jokes.

“Precisely,” I smirk, not able to help it. I’m finding that it is easy to talk to him. “This is a first and last type of thing. I don’t plan on going through this again.”

“Well maybe one of these Thursdays you’ll speak and get a chance to blow some steam to keep that from happening,” he says.

“This was a one time deal Xavier. I plan to start a new job soon once my orange vest stint is over and I doubt I’ll have time to come,” I reply.

“All the more reason for you to text me back. I’ve been told I’m a good listener,” he says, wearing a small smile as he takes a step closer to me.

Pushiness is in his nature as much as stubbornness is in mine. He is hell bent on being my friend and he might be wearing me down because I say, “I’ll think about it.”

Before he can say more, he’s being stiff armed back a few steps by a ten year old. 

“You a little close friend,” Papi says, sliding between us.

“If you ever need a babysitter for this one, send him on the 2,” Jazz says to me with a cackle before turning to Papi. “C’mon let me show you how to not be in grown folks' business over yonder.”

Papi shoots Xavier one parting glare before allowing Jazz to lead him over to where the fence is. He positions his body so that he can keep his eyes directly on us.

“He is very protective of you. That’s a good kid right there,” Xavier chuckled.

“I’m protective of him too. He’s the only good thing I have, him and his mom,” I said.

Retaking the steps Papi pushed him out of, Xavier locks eyes with me and quietly says, “I’d like to be a good thing too over time.”

I don’t know if it’s his proximity or the way those big eyes under thick lashes blink at me but I believe him. There is a kindredness to his spirit that intertwines with mine, refusing to be ignored. “In the words of Papi, the jury is still out on that.”

He cracks a grin. “I look forward to hearing the verdict. I’m a patient man.”

“A corny one too,” I smirk.

“You like it.”

“ALRIGHT LOVERBOY I HAVE A BEDTIME, WRAP IT UP,” Papi yells through cupped hands, causing everyone who’s  lingering around to laugh.

“On that note, good night. Let me know that y’all got home safe,” Xavier says with a smile.

“Will do, good night.”

We hold each other’s gaze for a few seconds more before I make my way down the stairs. When I get close, I pop Papi lightly on his shoulder, “Must you show out?”

“Must you? Since when do you smile?” Papi says, causing Jazz to holler and give him a high five.

“Papi,” I say through gritted teeth and he jogs ahead before I can reach out to pop him again.

“That lil boy read you,” Jazz chuckled, linking her arm through mine as we walked towards the train station. “You two looked mighty cozy.”

“We were just talking Jazz since you practically left me for dead,” I said.

“I didn’t leave you for dead but I did encourage you to fly little Birdie. That’s what I’ma call you Birdie,” Jazz says.

I hate the nickname but telling her won’t make a difference. Instead I ask, “You think I can trust him?”

“There’s only one true way to find out but I think he’s worth the risk. Opening yourself to people, to this world ain’t easy but most of the time it’s worth it. The rest? Is that bullshit like they said,” Jazz said. 

We spend the rest of the walk in silence and telling Papi to look where he’s going as he walks. I mull over her words and save Xavier’s words to examine for later. When we part ways, Jazz pulls me into a hug and lets me know she’s going to work. Though I don’t have the right to, I ask her to tell me when she gets home, and she promises.On the train Papi lets me know that he thinks Jazz is cool and how he learned about women like her in school. He makes me proud using the correct terminology and in moments like this I find myself wanting to protect him even more. There’s a real chance for him to make it out of our neighborhood and be somebody. I make another promise to a God I’m not on the best of terms with to look out for him. By the time we get home, Papi is practically sleepwalking. I let him back into his apartment and helped him get ready for bed before going into mine. It’s then that I see Xavier has texted me as I step out of my shoes.

Are you home?

It was sent a half hour ago so I’m late in my response.

Yeah just got in and put Papi down. Tired kids are heavy.

I head down the hall, texting Marissa letting her know that we’re both back in as I’m entering the bathroom. I peel out of my clothes and dump them into the hamper. The shower I take is quick because I’m exhausted and have to wake up again in five hours for my shift at the warehouse. As I’m sliding into bed, I read over the last texts Xavier sent.

Tell me about it. My little sister feels like a grown man sometimes.

I know it’s late so sleep well.

He sends the last text with the face in cloud emoji and in the privacy of my own home I allow myself to grin at his never ending corniness. Before I can think too much about it I send back: You too.

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[shhhlikeme]

“Losty Aone” / “Losty Mountain Man🏔” Series: 

Outtake Collection #16:

———————————

A/N: hiiiiiiiiiiiiiii babies!!!!!!!!!! Let’s fucking goooooooooooooo! I’m excited for y’all to read this juicy marathon. As of right now, I am unsure of how many collections it will be but it’s going to be one of the longest marathons ii. Check back every 20 minutes or so if you caught this immediately. Oh and I will be trying again to put my post under a read more but if it fucks up an deletes half the chapter again I am DONE and I TRIED okay??? xo

***ALSO I did not add my taglist to the last marathon so you guys might have missed collections 13-15!!!!***

TABLE OF CONTENTS

———————————

Your Losty Heartbreak and Your Spy Kids Debut 😎🖊📚

Sigh. The curse of being a young adult, I tell ya. 

You are annoyed. 

Yes, two months after the breakup you are still completely heartbroken, even though, yes, it was your genius idea to break up with the love of your life: a man that girls only dream about having as a S/O….

but it was a selfless decision.

Aone Takanobu deserved more, better… than you. That was your rationale.

It’s not fair of you to just accept the perfect man because he was lost enough to lock onto you and not someone on his level. 

While it was a selfless decision , it was still a decision you selfishly regretted because …you were so in love with that man at the time that you did it….

You are….

But you will stifle those emotions so that he can get over you and hopefully see his own worth. 

But that didn’t mean you couldn’t be annoyed. Because you were. And at what, exactly? Well:

After dating and breaking up with him, Aone had females constantly approaching him. A/N: Not constantly but it felt that way for you ofc lol

You guess it’s nice that the females of Date Teko gave him the courtesy of one month to get over you but STILL!

Kusa and Katana said that Takanobu’s admirers shot up because everyone witnessed how he treated you, how amazing he was to you, and they fell for that along with his looks.

Your ex’s new admirers are hoping they can get a man that just as inwardly beautiful as he is outwardly and hopefully he will like them, too

In other words: They want what you had. 

And what did you want? 

Well:

You wanted to rip some hair out. Yours or theirs? You’ll leave that up to subjective interpretation. 

EVERY TIME you walked past your ex—that you still love—’s locker there was some brat or another staring up at him in admiration like he was Mount fucking Everest. 

You wanted to scream. 

but isn’t this what you wanted, Y/N? Your Mountain man to find someone else? Your conscience would ask. 

Shut the hell up, conscience. You’d bark back. 

You heard from Katana who was keeping tags on his every admirer that he denied them all dates (which defeats the purpose of your break-up, but you smiled nonetheless) but that Aone did agree to host a study session with a group of girls that apparently begged/needed his help in all subjects before finals. 

give me a fucking break, you and your conscious agreed.

“Ugh. He’s too kind for his own good. Can’t he see those girls just want an excuse to be near him?!?!” You raged about the study session as you peered closely through the passenger side window to make sure that Kusa got inside her house safely. It was 6pm, and you had just heard the news while on the way home from dinner at your favourite restaurant. Katana drove. From her doorstep, Kusa waved at you before closing her door.  

This Saturday, your best friends forced you on your first outing since the breakup, dressing you and even doing your makeup despite your complaining about leaving the house. You had to admit that the food that you did order at the restaurant was decent enough, but really—you would much prefer to still be in bed, flipping through pictures of Aone and Perdu and having a good cry.

Katana rolled her eyes as she stopped at a red light, responding to your initial question. “Ugh. Yeah, they are smarter than we thought. But you’re okay with this, right? I mean this is what you said you  wanted when you broke up with him. You said you want him to find a new girl,”” Katana fished for your true feelings, sounding a lot like your annoying conscience. 

You sulked, picturing other females near the man you are in love with. It made you sick. But, instead, you said, “Of course I am Okay with it. I want him to be the happiest he can be.”

Katana fixed her eyes on the road and bit her tongue so that she wouldn’t laugh. 

You had no idea why you weren’t being fully honest with your friends, but perhaps it made you believe it more the more you said it aloud. “I know Kusa had that assignment to do tonight… and you have that one with Kenji tomorrow, right? so do you want to come over? My mom got me another tub of cookie dough ice cream, and we can rewatch Bad Girls Club again.” You asked Katana in that voice that meant you didn’t want to be alone tonight.

Katana smirked. It was an evil smirk. “I’ll do you one better.”

“Uhhh… Katana….you missed my turn.” Your eyes widened when the cheer captain passed your street, and then passed her own street a few seconds later. “Katana!”

“Word on the cheer team is that Aone-san’s first study session ends in 20 at the local library. I wanna check it out.”

“What?! No you will not—!” You yelled, but you couldn’t help the surge of excitement that flew through your body thinking about seeing that man again. It was always like this.

“—Oh, lighten up— it’s not like I will be joining the damn study session.”

“You won’t?” You asked, surprised.

“Obviously not! Muri is studying something else there, so I need to give her back her notes anyway. It’s only a plus that I’ll get to see how desperate those girls are being with my besties ex. Incognito, kay? I was going to drop you off first and go, but it looks like you don’t wanna be alone. Right?” 

Your pretty best friend waited a few seconds for a response, and when she didn’t get one, she nodded. “Exactly.” She turned into the school’s practically empty parking lot, finding her favourite spot. “So, you can stay in the car. No prob. And I won’t tell you anything about it.” 

You frowned, watching as Katana reached in the backseat for her purse so that she could take out the notes she had for Muri.

“Okay,” you whispered anxiously.  

“I’ll be like, 10 minutes.” The brunette removed her keys from the ignition and stepped outside of her car.

You stayed where you were as Katana’s figure disappeared into the one of the Date Teko’s many entrances. You began to think about what your friend was going to see in there: Aone leaning over the shoulder of pretty Date Teko girls? Helping them with their homework the way he would help you? These girls smelling his fresh icy mountain scent, and leaning in closer, the way you would to him?

Naturally, you began to panic internally.

You pictured the girls twirling their hair flirtatiously and telling him that they didn’t understand when they did, just to keep him hovering over them longer. The same way you used to. 

😤😤😤

Your foot started tapping on its own inside Katana’s car, thinking about how your lost ex-boyfriend wouldn’t even pick up any of it as flirting, ugh. 

Your imagination created even more concerning visuals: more giggling, more oblivious Aone, more shoulder brushing, more oblivious Aone, and then some more….. yeah. Should it really have come as no surprise that you soon found yourself hidden behind a dusty bookshelf in the anatomy section of your school’s library on a Saturday, squatted down and peeping through the slits between books to catch glimpses of your ex boyfriend hosting a study session?!

You blamed your active imagination. 

Behind the dusty shelves, you whimpered because the obstructed vision due to the books covered the white haired beauty perfectly. You held a disgusting book to the right a bit.

“Oh,” your stomach flipped. “He looks so cute.” You put on a 🥺 face when you noticed how utterly adorable a standing Takanobu looked decked out in forest green sweatpants and a matching hoodie with the hood on, and his white hair barely visible. 

Your stomach flips were quickly bumped away by sheer annoyance as you saw him then do exactly what brought you up here, just as you thought: innocently leaning down to help a blonde third-year girl you knew by the name of Sutairu Elyts with a question she was asking. She was smiling way too much for someone doing boring ass school work on Saturday, you noted. Flipping her hair, giggling, and obnoxiously putting her cleavage in Aone’s line of sight. You picked up the dusty library book that was obstructing your view and stopped yourself from tossing it at Sutairu— instead choosing to toss it to the side without a care in the world, trying to get a closer look at how close the girl was going to get while Aone answered her question. 

You were close to literally poking your head through the bookshelf hole completely, when someone to the left of your hiding spot cleared their throat very loudly. You jumped, bumping your head and hissing in pain. 

You removed your head from the bookshelf and looked up at the cause of your newfound migraine.

There stood Katana, her arms crossed and a knowing smile on her face. “You got here faster than I thought,” She reached down to help you up. “Now, come on. None of this amateur shit. You know my style. When it comes to cute boys: make it obvious, and make it count.”

***

Aone was in the middle of teaching Algebra to a group of students (he doesn’t register the fact that they are all conveniently female and all too well dressed for a study session) who had desperately begged him for his help, to the point where the teacher just asked Aone to do it. 

He didn’t mind, the teacher offered him extra credit and everyone he was teaching was nice, they didn’t mind him being pretty silent, plus Kenji fully supported it. So why not? Aone mainly supported it because it was a great distraction from his broken heart and his plan…. 

Or so he thought it would be—before he spotted you in the library.

His heart skipped a beat because he absolutely was not expecting to see you today. His plan wasnt supposed to be put into action until Monday! Trying not to freak out, Aone watched you enter from a side that wasnt the entry way—which is pretty odd—but he shoved the thought to the side anyway because there you were, looking busy.

“Wow.” Takanobu couldn’t stop himself from mouthing when his eyes found you. He mouthed it to himself, of course, but it caused the observant participants in his study group to whip around to see what he was looking at. 

you were dressed pretty casually, coming from dinner with the girls, but Aone hadn’t seen you dressed in anything other than your school or cheer uniforms since your breakup, so it took him by surprise

Not to mention you looked really, really, really good:

Aone watched you scan the bookshelves with Katana—which, if Takanobu was thinking straight— he would realistically call bs on you ever coming to the library for no reason, ESPECIALLY on a Saturday— but you looked too gorgeous to him to care 

Now that he is working alongside you in a project, he has been able to crawl out of depression a bit, simply because your mere presence made him feel whole again, so he basked in the delight he felt any time he was able to see you.

Aone realized that even though he struck out the first time and failed to make you want to be with him, he had nothing to lose if he tried again. 

The premise of Aone’s plan presides on the idea that you are the only girl he wants. Therefore, he just has to prove that to you. Silently. Strategically. 

So that’s the only reason why Aone was able to to shift his focus right now and look away from you, effectively returning to helping his study group and making them forget you even walked in. 

Aone’s mission is to become the man that you want and need, naturally. He will exude more confidence: which is a testament to the fact that he was here right now: tutoring a bunch of girls who have asked him out and he has rejected before because of you,

He wants word to get back to you that your ex is the type of guy who knows how to be just friends with people who had feelings for him. Just in case you wanted to start there with him.

He wants to be your friend. Aone wants to be anything to you but a stranger. It’s the only way his heart stops aching and if that’s all you can give him is a friendship after this project is over, then that is what he would willingly accept!  

Aone forced himself to look back down, getting up to step around the circular table to help with the other girls’ study guides. 

He was able to keep his cool for the most part, but almost lost it twice... 

Once when you dropped a book and bent down to pick it up, showcasing how amazing your butt looked in those jeans. 

Aone cleared his throat to get his own attention back and turned away quickly when he felt a familiar stir under his sweatpants. He stuffed his hands deep in his sweatpants pockets and directed his energy back to the paper in front of him. He erased an answer for one of his students and plugged in the correct one.

The second time Takanobu almost lost his cool was when he heard you make a cute noise and his eyes flicked back up to you. You were trying to reach a book that was too high for you but probably met the height of his ear, your hand above your head, your bodyweight on your toes which gravitationally rose your top up as well, exposing the naked skin on your lower back. 

Aone’s throat went dry and he bit back a groan because the last time he’d stared at that lower back of yours so intensely: you were in a perfect arch, naked, using his dick to pleasure yourself when he told he was on the phone. 

Cue hands in pockets again.

He recalled how that section of your back had a light layer of sweat on it back then, making it glisten as he bit his lip, trying not to moan to the feeling of your tight and juicy walls running up and down his length. Holy, shit, that feel good. 

Aone began thinking about helping you get that book and then fucking you against that bookshelf you were leaning on: holding you up in his arm, the other hand used to place it behind your head as a cushion so that you did not harm yourself when he sheathed his big dick inside your absolutely perfect box, so hot and so delicious, and soo hard not to cum inside within the first minute…..

👁👅👁 Aone’s eyes glazed over to the point where one of his tutor-ies had to snap their fingers in front of his face. 

Highly embarrassed, Takanobu pulled it together ASAP, muttering a quick and sincere apology and thinking only of his plan. Trusting in his plan, he refused to look up in your general direction again. He didn’t trust himself to. 

***

“He barely looked my way….” You sobbed into your cookie dough ice cream later that night, Katana rubbing your back and removing your hair out the tub. 

“Please, Y/N,” Katana begged, absolutely gutted seeing her best friend like this. “Please be honest with yourself and make sure you truly stand by the decision you made.”

———————————

A New Aone and a Perfect Plan? ✅🤩

Mountain Man put absolutely all of his energy into his plan to get you back. His understanding is that you broke up with him because he wasn’t good enough for you, so that means he would just have to make himself good enough for you. While Kenji was completely against Aone trying to get back the girl who broke his heart, Kenji found himself agreeing with the plan since it meant that his best friend would be speaking, playing volleyball, and overall living life again while it was in action. The plan was to essentially fake it till you make it—show you that Takanobu could be the man you deserved. 

The gist of the plan was for Aone to disallow himself to be zombie-like anymore, because you probably didn’t like that. He started spending more time with his friends again, and he was eating again. He was banking on this plan, and if it didn’t work—sure, he’d be crushed for the rest of his life—but at least he’d have no regrets. It wouldn’t be easy, he’d have to speak back to other females kindly letting them down when all he wanted to do was speak to you. He’d have to ignore you when you walked by which meant going against his every instinct, and he’d have to speak to you confidently in class when you two were working on the project and small talk about your lives, when all he wanted to do was lean in and kiss you until he could taste you even when he pulled away. 

Thoughts of you consumed him, still, but they were now hopeful thoughts. He was not going to let his dream girl walk away that easily. 

A/N: GO BABY GOOOOO

You, on the other hand, took this new and confident Aone as a sign that he was getting over you. He didn’t seem very sad anymore, you didn’t see that same dejected and lost eyes you saw when he pushed his best friend away from you. You saw intensity there, like he was now focused on a new task in his life. It confused you, and it hurt like a bitch, because deep down you knew he’d move on soon and you wouldn’t. 

But this is what you wanted, right? 🙄🙄Repeated your conscience, again. You really wanted to fight her. 

“Y/N, you seem out of it today.” Mountain Man stopped writing the outline of the content analysis in class to stare down at you. You could see the concern in his eyes, but you refused to believe it was anything more than the concern anyone would feel for an ex turned friend, and nothing more. 

Embarrassed, you realized that you must have zoned-out, and now this gorgeous man that you wanted to jump was calling you out on your odd behaviour. “W-was I?’ You shook your head then looked down in your lap. “Sorry.” 

Aone placed his pencil down, heart pounding because he wanted that frown of yours to disappear so badly. “Is it about your University Cheerleading tryouts?” He asked kindly, too kindly—if you had any hope of getting over him in the next 5 years. 

You looked up at him, confused as to why he’d even mention that. 

The white haired beauty blushed. “Kogane—he, uh, well…” Aone took a second to look away and collect his thoughts because your big beautiful eyes were making him lose his train of thought. He reminded himself of his plan and collected himself, returning to your gaze. “Kogane-san mentioned to Kenji and I this morning that Kusa needed someone to film her audition tape, because that is the only way cheerleaders are able to send in your tryouts for schools that are too far away, correct?”

“Oh,” You nodded. “Ya—“

Aone continued without missing a beat. “I know Kogane is helping film Kusa’s, and you mentioned yesterday that Katana is out of town for a camp… so, and feel free to say no: but I’d love to offer you my help, Y/N. With filming and editing.” 

There was a pause in which you just looked at Aone with those big beautiful eyes that he thinks about 24/7. 

Afraid that he might be coming onto way too strong, which goes against his super slow plan, Takanobu adds: “As friends. Offer you my help as friend.” 

Your heart sunk, but he looked so sweet asking, not to mention you really did need to get on that tryout instead of pushing it off until you miss it completely and don’t end up going to University—

If you didn’t get a cheer scholarship you were screwed; Aone knew this. Not to mention you would love to see him more; Aone did not know this.

“I’ve taken photography as my elective for the past three years and do pretty well in that class in terms of grades, so I just thought…” Mountain Man was scared shitless, nervously listing off his accomplishments like this was an interview…. mostly due to the fact that you hadn’t answered him yet. Too fast, she can tell you want her back—now she’ll never give you another chance. Failure. Aone opened his mouth to retract his offer, but you interrupted him before he could get the first word out. 

“Um, yes. Sure. I’d love your help, Aone-san. I promise it won’t take long. Thank you so much.” 

Aone nodded even though he was bursting at the seams inside. Mountain Man couldn’t believe it. After  being broken up with because your feelings weren’t there, you agreed to spend non-school related time with him?! The middle blocker couldn’t help but think that you wouldn’t have said yes, had he still been acting like a zombie. Actually, he wouldn’t even have dared asked, if he was still acting like a zombie. Now he gets to help you and see you more than he has since the breakup, and he considers this like a gift! Yes!

“Great. Just tell me where and when you would like to have your audition, and I will be there.” A very cool reply.

You even rewarded him even more with a smile. “How about next Tuesday? Here on the field since it’s getting warm out again? I need to rehearse a lot and that gives me enough time.”

“Understood.” A cool second later, Takanobu had to excuse himself to the washroom so that he could celebrate in silence. He texted his friends and took a deep breath.

Selfishly, Aone also wanted to help you with this particular audition because he wanted you to go to the same University as he and Kenji. He wanted to help you with your future assignments and he wanted to see you everyday. How great would that be? A little torturous, too. But if you were on a cheer team and happy, then: mostly great. 

Baby steps, Mountain Man sighed contentedly. He would get you back in baby steps, and this was the first one. 

He just had to keep following the plan.

———————————

Taglist: @galagcica @chaichai-the-weeb @nairobiisqueen @bisasterrr @juminly @simply-not-the-same @marvelousbakugou @qyuanon 💛

Outtake #17: CLICK HERE!

[crazy-little-cool-cat]

Hand in Glove - Chapter 21 | Ben Hardy x OFC

A/N: I know y’all probs forgot about this, but I haven’t. Life has just been kicking my ASS relentlessly, but I decided to kick its’ ass back and here we fucking are. Took me about 4 months to finish, but it is what is it. Also, I am a bottle of wine and a half down and not sure how this is going to end up, but let’s pray to the gods that Tumblr ain’t gonna fuck shit up. Dropping mic now. 

Chapter 1, Chapter 2,  Chapter 3,  Chapter 4,  Chapter 5,  Chapter 6,  Chapter 7,  Chapter 8,  Chapter 9,  Chapter 10,  Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14 , Chapter 15 , Chapter 16 , Chapter 17 , Chapter 18 , Chapter 19 , Chapter 20 

Word Count: ~fucktonK. Don’t judge me. 

Warnings: the usual? idk. Ben gets quite frisky, I’ll tell you that much. Also not sure how much of this was beta’d or proofread so fucking forgive me father if I have sinned.

The shrill sound of the alarm and Ben's low, gravelly swearing snapped Annie back to reality. Her eyes fluttered open in the soft light of dawn. She fumbled for her phone on the nightstand to shut the alarm off and look through her notifications. Ben stirred behind her, snuggling as close to her as he possibly could.

"Mornin'..." he murmured and pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

"Go back to sleep, Benny." Annie smiled when he pulled her in and engulfed her in his embrace. "It's too early."

"Frankie needs a walk." Ben yawned. "And you need breakfast."

"I can do both of those on my own."

"You can," Ben nipped at the curve of her neck, "but I won't let you."

The bedroom door edged open, revealing the tip of a snout poking through. A soft whine alerted Ben and Annie that Frankie had heard the two "magic words" Ben had just said - "Frankie" and "Walk" - and was making her presence known. Ben clicked his tongue three times and Frankie came scrambling onto the bed, her entire body swinging from side to side as her tail wagged. She dove right in to Annie's face, licking and whimpering excitedly.

"Oh God!" Annie shook her head from side to side, trying to escape the assault. Frankie had other plans. With a paw on Annie's shoulder, she tugged at her until she was flat on her back and climbed onto Annie's chest, pinning her down. "No! Stop!"

"Franks, I was actually hoping to be the one to give mum a morning snog..." he grabbed the dog and kissed her nose, earning a few licks for himself. "Aw."

Annie seized the opportunity to sit up and stretch her arms high over her head. She slouched down with a slow exhale and gave Frankie a rub behind her ears. Out of the corner of her eyes, she spotted Ben's Suitcase and duffel bag. She sighed and stood up, scratching her cheek as she marched over to the ensuite bathroom and flicked the light on.

"All done packing?" She asked as she examined her sleepy form in the mirror.

"Mhm." Ben shuffled behind her, pulling his sweats up over his hips. "I know, I'm a freak for doing it a week ahead of time."

"You're a freak for a whole myriad of reasons, Mr. Jones." Annie rolled her eyes and chuckled as she squeezed toothpaste onto her brush and then turned to Ben, who waited patiently with his toothbrush in his outstretched hand, nonverbally asking her to please put some toothpaste on his brush, too. "So you're that desperate to leave, huh?"

"On the contrary, my love." He winked at her and squeezed her bum before brushing his teeth.

Annie shook her head with a smile and leaned into his arm, resting her head against it. When they both felt their mouths were foamy enough, they took turns rinsing. Ben decided to finish this morning's ritual with a searing kiss.

"I plan on spending every waking moment that I have left with my girls." He mumbled against her lips before pulling away and walking to the toilet. Lifting the toilet seat up, he pulled his sweats down to his thighs.

"Seriously?"

"What?"

"You're taking a piss when I'm right here?"

"Love, I've watched you give birth." Ben smirked. "Peeing is not half as nasty as that."

"Do you want me to watch you pee, Benny?" Annie smirked back, crossing her arms tauntingly. "Is that a sex thing?"

"Want you to?" Ben pretended to mull it over. "Nah. But if you want to hold it for me..."

"Freak." Annie scoffed and walked out of the bathroom.

"So no?" He called after her.

###

If there’s one thing Annie hated, it was not knowing where time went. One minute she’s shoveling eggs in her mouth in a hurry to leave for work, the next she’s got a baby attached to her boob again and it’s night outside. Annie walked into the bedroom, groggily rubbing her eyes after feeding Rory in the middle of the night. A full moon illuminated Ben, laying sprawled across her side of the bed.

"You stole my spot!" Annie huffed and collapsed onto Ben's side of the mattress.

Ben's arms quickly snaked around Annie and pulled her to him, squeezing her as close as he could to his body. He tucked her head under his chin and mumbled incoherently, wrapping a leg around her as well. Locking her in.

"Ben, I need air!" Annie squeaked against his chest and tickled his sides in a futile attempt to make him move.

"Shh." Ben pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "S'night time. No talking. Just sleeping."

"But oxygen!"

"No," Ben grunted and rolled over, right on top of Annie, careful not to put all of his weight on her. "Imma Human blanket now."

"Hey!" Annie flailed under him before giving up and relaxing, letting his body squish her into the soft bed. "Fine."

"Good girl."

###

Ben sat with Rory on his lap, both looking at the phone with goofy smiles on their faces. He'd just gotten the notification that Annie's series had posted a new story to the Instagram page, followed by a text message that simply said "show Rory".

The story was a boomerang of Annie in full costume, blowing a kiss at the camera lens. The next story was another boomerang, this time of Annie doing 'finger guns' and winking at the camera with her lopsided grin. Rory tried to grab the phone out of Ben's hands, babbling happily.

"So much for daddy-daughter time..." Ben murmured against Rory's soft tufts of blonde curly hair.

While he'd usually spend his day with Rory on Annie's set or with his mates, Ben decided that he needed some alone time with his baby. His departure was mere days away. Although on the outside he was his usual self, internally, he wasn't handling this too well. He knew Annie could sense that and he appreciated her efforts in trying to play it down and pretend everything's alright.

With a sigh, Ben turned the screen off and chucked his phone aside, much to Rory's dismay. She tried to crawl off his lap in pursuit of the device, but was captured and tickled by her father. Ben gently tossed Rory in the air, smacking a kiss to her cheek every time he caught her.

"You know what?" He cooed at Rory, who clawed at his face with her fingers. "We're going on an adventure! You wanna go see uncle Joey and uncle Gwil?"

At the mention of Joe and Gwil's name, Rory squealed. It was so high pitched, Ben couldn't help but blink in awe.

"Did Roger teach you how to do that?"

###

"How are you holding up?"

"I'm absolutely devastated." Joe lamented. "The mere fact that we only have a few days left is just -"

"I was asking Ben." Gwil rolled his eyes, interrupting Joe's rant.

"I'm fine." Ben shrugged and took a sip from his beer. Rory and Frankie played on the floor at Gwil's flat. "Gwil you have to duck, okay? You'll ruin the fort."

"Who's idea was this, again?" Gwil groaned, adjusting the corner of yet another blanket he managed to mess up. "Also, why are we in the fort?"

"If you're going to be grouchy, you can leave the fort, Mr. Lee." Joe stuck his tongue out at the tall man. "No grouchy people allowed."

"I'm not grouchy." Gwil retorted. "Plus, this is my flat, meaning that this is my fort, so I make the rules."

"You do realize that Rory is the actual baby here, yeah?" Ben raised an eyebrow.

###

"How are you feeling?" Mike asked between bites of ravioli during lunch break. "Jonesy all packed?"

"Mhm." Annie sighed and pushed the food around on her plate. "Got his passport extended today, too. Took Rory with him."

"Seriously?" Clara snorted. "He's taking her everywhere?"

"Yep."

"It's sickening." Jamie chimed in. "It's like they're siamese twins."

"Aw," Mikey drawled. "Bet he's gonna miss her terribly!"

"Do you think she'll even notice?" Jamie mused. "She's, what, five months old now? She just figured out she's got hands. She'll be fine."

"She loves her daddy." Annie poked Jamie in his side. "She figured her hands out two months ago, you knob."

"Could've fooled me," Jamie muttered.

"Don't be ridiculous, James." Mike pointed at his co-star with his fork. "She's going to daycare, she'll only see her mama in the early mornings and evenings. She'll notice there's an entire human missing."

"She'll have her uncles and aunties to keep her distracted." Clara winked. "Lucy and I already planned a whole Girls' Day."

"Um?"

"What?" Clara blinked innocently at her best friend.

"Why wasn't I invited?"

"Because you have more work than I do." Clara shrugged. "Gonna do it on my day off, Banana."

"Well, it's just you, Rory and Lucy, then?"

"Well," Clara looked at her plate sheepishly. "And Joe. And Rami. And Gwilym."

"What the actual fuck, huh?" Annie threw her fork down and huffed.

"Hey, you'll get to hang out with these two delicious chunks of mankind all day!" Clara smirked.

"Clearly, the superior chunks of mankind, mind you..." Jamie added, tongue-in-cheek. "We haven't had "us" time in forever, Banana."

"Don't you Banana me!" Annie hissed and turned to look at Jamie. He flashed her his best puppy dog eyes. "Oh, not the face."

"What face?" He feigned innocence.

"You know what face. Don't do the face."

"What," Mikey sighed, mimicking  Jamie's expression. "Don't you want to hang out with your own brother and husband?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake."

###

The next day was an entire mess. It started off well enough for everyone involved, really. It’s during the afternoon when things took a really, really bad turn. Ben tried to contain himself while Rory was napping, but his mind was racing. It was a chill day with "the band", as they now liked to refer to themselves.

None of them gave a second thought to the familiar sound of a notification rang through the living room. Then, it was dead silent for what felt like an eternity.

"Well, then!" Rami was the first one to break the silence, turning his screen off and tossing his phone on the coffee table. "Anyone see any good shows lately?"

"Ben? Buddy?" Joe shook Ben by the shoulder. "Dude, you haven't blinked in an hour."

Ben stared into space, his thoughts running wild. It was just a silly, candid, behind-the-scenes picture. Nothing more. However, he couldn't help the bubbling rage. There she was. His girlfriend, snuggled up to her ex-boyfriend turned reconciled-best friend. Her head resting on his chest, tucked under Jamie's chin. Her arm flung around his waist, his arms holding her close. One hand laced through her long hair. They looked so peaceful.

Ben knew how hard they worked. How tired Annie was all the time. How early she got up and how late she came home, trying to get as much work done while Ben was still around to be with Rory. He'd visit the set often, only to find her catching a snooze in her trailer. Stifling yawns between takes.

Yet he couldn't help but feel jealous. There was something beautiful and serene about the picture, especially when both Annie and Jamie were in full costume. The caption was what got to him most - "marital bliss".

"Mate, it's a picture." Gwilym brought Ben back to earth, cutting off his train of thought. "God knows, Clara had her pictures taken snuggled up to just about anything and anyone."

"Marital bliss?!" Ben sneered. "Marital fucking bliss?!"

"They're in costume!" Gwil retorted. "Those aren't Jamie and Annie. Those are Henry and Anne."

"That's Annie." Ben pointed at the screen. "That's how we always fall asleep."

"You're reading too much into this." Rami quipped. "Jamie isn't a threat to you."

"I'm going to be a continent away, while this arse is just lurking around..."

"He's engaged." Rami reminded him.

"It’s a bloody farce of a PR stunt and you know it just as well as I do. It's a sham."

"Why are you so riled up?" Rami's eyes squinted in confusion. "It's a stupid picture. They look pretty in it. End of story."

###

When Annie arrived later that night, Rory was fast asleep and Ben was losing his mind - slamming drawers and cupboards shut in the kitchen, cursing under his breath. He didn't even hear Annie come in.

Annie got a heads-up from Joe earlier that evening, letting her know that Ben had seen the Instagram picture. "He's definitely, 100%, not okay. Brace yourself."

"You alright?"

Ben's eyes shot up and looked at her. He wasn't just angry - he was positively fuming. Annie squared her shoulders, prepared for impact.

"I'm going out for a run." Ben muttered and walked right past her.

Annie followed him to the door, her arms crossed. Her brows knotted, she tried to figure out what to say. It was almost midnight. Ben never pulled an "Annie" before. He never walked out on an argument.

Before Annie could form a coherent sentence, Ben was out the door. She heard him stomping down the walkway, opening the gate. A shrill ringing startled her - he left his phone behind.

Annie took a deep breath and climbed up the stairs to check on Rory. After rubbing Rory's back gently and tucking her in, Annie went about tidying up. She picked up toys - baby's and dog's - and random articles of clothing. She straightened the sheets, organized the mail, stacked the coasters neatly. Anxiously waiting to hear the front door open again.

When it did, Ben walked right up the stairs without giving Annie an acknowledging nod of his head. She was prepared for an onslaught of accusations, but none came. Feeling perplexed, she absently followed him, wishing her stalking presence was enough to make him turn around to look at her.

It wasn’t. Taking his sweaty clothes off, he tossed them in the hamper and went in the shower, leaving the door open. Ignoring Annie's existence all together. Her guilt - not that she really knew why she should feel guilty - was quickly replaced with seething anger.

She stomped into the bathroom, stopping right in front of the glass shower doors. She glared at Ben, her hands on her hips. He started whistling and turned his back to her as he washed himself, suds forming on his skin. This wasn't just a cold shoulder. This was a butt-naked, frigid silent treatment.

"Are you joking?" Her voice bounced off the tiles. "Is this a bloody joke?"

"Had a good nap?" Ben snarled, still not facing her. "Looked refreshing."

"It was, actually." Annie raised a challenging eyebrow. "Woke up feeling recharged."

"Oh, yeah?" Ben turned the water off shook his hair. "Glad to hear."

"You're unbelievable." Annie scoffed as Ben reached for his towel and wrapped it around his hips. "How dare you?"

"How dare I?" Ben's eyebrows were so far up, they almost merged with his hairline. "I'm not the one snuggling my ex!"

"I also snuggled Clara!" Annie hissed. "Let me know when your little hissy fit is over, okay, love?"

"Fuck you, Annabelle." Ben loomed over her, his green eyes boring holes into her very soul. "This isn't a hissy fit."

"What is it, then?"

"I'm leaving, Annie. Leaving. In two days." Ben pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. "For months."

"I'm aware." Annie said through gritted teeth. "You're also coming back."

"Will I have something to come back to?" Ben opened his eyes. "You've already replaced me as your sleep-aid..."

"Have you gone absolutely bonkers, Ben Jones?" Annie barked out a laugh. "What are you on about?"

"I'm fucking scared, alright?" Ben hissed.

"Of what?!"

"You!"

"Me?" Annie's eyes were wide. "You're scared of me?"

"Annie, I'll be gone. You'll be fair game."

"I'm not some deer you can hunt!"

"I won't be here to protect -"

"Protect me?" Annie laughed, cutting him off. "From what? The Big Bad Wolf? Jamie?"

"Well, thanks for mocking me." Ben brushed past her, bumping his shoulder with her. "Real mature."

"Ben, you're throwing a fit over nothing!" Annie followed close behind him. Ben unwrapped the towel from his hips and dried off his torso. "I'm not mocking you!"

"We've been going through every aspect of me leaving." Ben chucked the towel to the floor. "What to do with Rory, what to do with Franks, when I'll be back for a visit..."

"I know." Annie sat down on the bed. "We've got this. We're prepared."

"Every aspect except our own bloody relationship. And all this time, you've been so calm about this!" Ben grabbed his head as he sat down next to her. "You've gone on a few benders, yeah, but even then - you were so calm."

"What?"

"Annie, I'm going crazy over this. I'm devastated. Freaking out. I don't want to leave." Ben laid back. "And you? You're acting like everything's fine. Having cuddles with your ex. Looking like…” Ben sighed and balled his hands into fists. “Do you even care that I'm going away?"

Annie took a shaky breath and shook her head, running a hand through her hair.

"You'll have Joe, Gwil, Rami, Clara, Lucy, Mike..." Ben rubbed at his eyes. "Jamie. I'll have no one."

"You know they'll leave for the press tour soon."

"Yes, which I'll miss out on." Ben chuckled bitterly. "You'll still have your own mates with you."

"You'll make new friends."

"I bloody know I’ll make new bloody friends, Annie, It’s not that!" Ben scoffed and mumbled incoherently under his breath. "See? This is what I'm talking about!"

"Huh?"

"It's like you're not even sad about it all!" Ben waved his hands about as he spoke. "You're out there, snuggling your cast-mates, working for hours on end, living your best life -"

"You think I'm not sad about this?" Annie spoke through gritted teeth. "Really?"

"Well, are you?"

"Of course I am!" Annie climbed onto his lap and straddled him. "Ben, are you having a psychotic break right now?"

"You're so cheery and positive and -"

"Because I didn't want to upset you!" Annie smacked his chest. "You blithering idiot!"

"Really?" Ben's voice oozed snark. "Seems like it backfired, no?"

"You're an arse." Annie smacked him again. "You're an idiot and an arse! Who on earth leaves his wi-" Annie huffed just as the word slipped her lips "-girlfriend alone with a baby for months?"

"Annie, stop hitting me!"

"No!" Annie punched him in the arm. "You wanted to see me upset? I'm fucking upset!"

"Annie!" Ben grabbed Annie's wrists and pulled her to him. She braced herself on her haunches to avoid head-butting him. "Stop. It."

"Do you honestly think I'd replace you?" the hurt in Annie's voice was evident. "Do you really think I'd go fuck someone else while you're gone? Jamie, of all people?”

She stared into his eyes, waiting for his answer, but there was none. Annie nodded and started to pull herself up, only to have Ben's grasp on her wrists tighten. She bit the inside of her cheek and tried to pull away again. Ben restrained her, not taking his eyes off hers.

"Ben, let go." Annie's voice was low as she tried to shake her hands free. She stared down at Ben's hands holding her wrists.

"Look at me." Ben squeezed her wrists tighter. "Look. At. Me."

Annie fixed her eyes on him. His usually bright green eyes were clouded and darker, a mixture of sadness, anger and need. He bit his bottom lip as he lowered his gaze onto their hands. All of his sadness, all of his tension had finally reached a boiling point. A crimson flush crept up from his chest to his neck, his muscles clenching with ever jerk of Annie's escape attempts.

"Let go of me. Ben, I’m deadly serious. I hate you right now." Annie hissed, still tense under his grasp. Ben snarled at her choice of words. Annie noticed it and pouted tauntingly. "What, did that hit a nerve? Is that all I needed to say to get a reaction?"

"Shut up."

"Oh, poor Benny. Did I hurt your feelings?" Annie's voice lilted condescendingly. A vicious glint danced in her eyes. "Did you really think you could call me a cheater," Annie's voice was so sweet as she said that, "that you could call me a slag?"

"I never called you any of these."

"You didn't have to." Annie chuckled. "It was heavily implied. Especially when you didn’t even answer my bloody question.” Annie smirked bitterly, tongue in cheek. “So right now? I. Hate. You."

Ben felt as if his entire body is on fire under her. Pins and needles raked through his body, a tingle rushing over his naked skin as they stared each other down.

"Who in their right mind," Annie tilted her head to the side, "leaves their girlfriend and 5-month-old baby for three months and then has the balls to be paranoid about her moving the fuck on without him? Hm?"

Ben clenched her wrists tighter, his upper lip curling up.

"I know who," Annie murmured. "The same guy who'll fail to appreciate his girlfriend's efforts to keep morale high, even though she's hurting. The same guy who's so afraid she'll cheat on him when he's gone, for no fucking reason, other than his own fragile ego, it seems."

"Watch it."

"No, fuck you. Fuck being careful." Annie retorted. "What will it take for you to stop being an undercover jealous prick? Huh? What, do you actually need to mark me as your territory?"

Ben's cock involuntarily twitched at the thought, grazing the crotch of Annie's leggings. Making their eyes lock on each other again. Sending a flurry of butterflies loose in both of their bellies.

"Oh, you can't be serious." Annie scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Unbelievable."

Ben licked his lips and made his move. Now that Annie was distracted, he used his body weight to roll them over and pin her down to the bed under him. His green eyes burned with raw need.

"Shut. Up." He grunted as she tried to wriggle her way out from under him while he held both of her wrists in one hand, up over her head. "Stop it."

Annie's breath hitched when Ben ground his hips into hers, his erection rubbing her inner thighs. He kissed her searingly and growled when she moved her head, pulling her lips away.

"Did I say you can move?" He whispered, his grip tightening on her wrists as his hand worked its' way to her legs. He kissed her again, physically taking her breath away, pushing her leggings down. She pulled back, gasping.  "Do. Not. Move."

"Air!" was all Annie could whine before his lips crashed onto hers again, muffling her moans.

"Do I need to punish you?" He whispered against her lips, his free hand snaking under her t-shirt. "Don't move. Be quiet. Don't want to wake the baby, now, do we?"

Annie shook her head slightly, looking up at Ben with big, doe eyes.

"Good girl." Ben cooed and nuzzled the crook of Annie's neck before pulling her shirt over her head, bunching it on her arms. "Do you hate me, still?"

"Mhm." Annie smirked.

"Guess I'll have to change your mind, then." Ben ground his hips down again.

###

After waking up all alone in their bed in the wee hours of the morning, Annie's sock-clad feet padded softly on the hardwood floor as she shuffled to the living room. She paused at the doorway, looking at the back of Ben's head. The soft, colorful light from the TV illuminated him like a halo. His head propped up on his closed fist, his arms on the back of the sofa.

Sensing her presence, Ben glanced over his shoulder and nodded his head, beckoning Annie to come to him. Smiling, she closed the distance between them and curled up on the soft cushions next to her boyfriend. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her onto his lap before pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"Baby monitor?" He mumbled against her hair and smiled when Annie reached in her hoodie's pocket and pulled it out. "Did she give you a hard time?"

"My arms are dead."

"She wouldn't let you put her down, then?"

"Does she ever?"

"Solid point."

"What are we watching?" Annie blinked at the bright screen in front of them and groaned when her face appeared on the screen. "Oh, no."

"I have a lot to catch up on, okay?" Ben tickled her sides as she buried her face in his chest. "I'm not sure I'll have time to binge on this while in Arizona, you know."

"Why do you need to binge on this at all?" Annie's muffled voice whined.

"Because." Ben shrugged.

"Right, then." Annie leaned back and grasped at the fabric of his long-sleeved shirt. "You won't mind me binge-watching East Enders, then?"

"You do what you gotta do." Ben sighed and leaned forward.

He grabbed his cup of tea off the coffee table and took a long sip. Annie's gaze followed his every move.

"Ben?" Annie tilted her head as she bit her bottom lip.

"Yeah, love?"

Annie caressed his cheeks as a million thoughts stormed in her mind. A sad smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

###

For the life of him, Ben couldn’t figure out how on earth it was night again. It seemed like everything was moving on double speed, nonstop. Exhausted, he laid sprawled on the bed like a starfish, with Frankie gently nibbling at his toes. One arm draped lazily over his eyes, the other tucked into his sweatpants waistband ever so slightly. The TV was on but on a low volume. Background noise.

He felt Annie's presence while his eyes were still closed, lurking at the doorway. He opened his eyes just a crack, enough to catch a quick glance of her face, and could feel his how his heart is breaking just from her expression alone.

"Don't give me that look."

Annie blinked and shook her head lightly as if her mind was an etch-a-sketch and she could just erase whatever thoughts popped up so Ben wouldn't see what they were. Considering that this very night would be Ben's last night at home, they both walked on eggshells, high on the tips of their toes.

"What look?" Annie asked sweetly and walked over to the bed. Ben stretched out his arms, inviting her in for a cuddle. "I wasn't giving you a look."

"Must've been imagining, then..." Ben mumbled with a sigh. He raked his fingers through her hair lazily, enjoying the warmth her body radiated. "Banana?"

"Hmm?" Annie purred and snuggled up as close as she could.

"I'm sad."

"I know." Annie propped herself up on one arm. “I’m sad too.”

“I need to you promise me something.”

“Ben, for the last time, I’m not going to cheat on you with Jamie!” Annie poked his side. “I swear, I’ll only cheat on you with Joe.”

“That’s not what I was going to say and you would never!” Ben grabbed her wrist gently. “Promise me you’ll always text me good night and good morning if you can’t call.”

“I promise.” Annie smiled.

###

“You know what?” Ben stopped in his tracks on his way to queue for his flight check-in, “I think I’ll stay.”

“The hell you are, Ben!” Annie moved Rory over to her other hip. “She needs toys! And  food! And diapers!”

“But Arizona is so bloody far!”

“Jesus Christ, not this again.” Gwilym chimed in and handed a bottle of Coca Cola to Ben. “Be a big boy, now, Benny.”

“God, I’ll miss you.” Ben sighed, his eyes closed.

“I’ll miss you too, babe.” Gwil replied instead of Annie.

“Do you two lovebirds need a minute alone?” Annie snorted. “I’ll miss you too, Ben.”

“And I’ll miss you the most!” Ben cooed and grabbed his baby, kissing every exposed inch of her skin.

“Thanks, love.” Annie sipped from his Coke. “I really appreciate that.”

“Ben, you’ll miss your flight, mate.” Gwil scratched his head as he looked at the huge departures sign. “You better hustle.”

“I’m staying.”

“Go!” Both Gwilym and Annie barked at him.

“I love you.” Ben murmured, his lips pressed to Rory’s cheek. “Take care of mum, yeah? Be a good girl?”

“Are you -” Gwilym tilted Annie’s head up to get a better look, “are you crying?!”

“Shut up!”

“Oh, fuck.” Ben’s eyes locked in on Annie’s face, prompting a wave of tears from his own eyes. “We said no tears!”

“Stop it, Ben!” Annie pawed at her cheeks to wipe off her tears. “No crying!”

“Goddamnit!” Ben hissed and shrugged one shoulder, wiping his tears on his hoodie. “Alright. Alright. No crying.”

“I think this is the perfect moment to separate the two of you.” Gwilym said, taking Rory from Ben’s arms and bouncing her on his hip. “Come on, children. Just like we practised.”

Annie leaped up and wrapped her arms and her legs around Ben, holding on for dear life. They kissed, one last time, their tears mixing together. Ben squeezed his girlfriend as close to him as he could and inhaled her scent as he pressed a thousand kisses all over her face.

“I’ll call you as soon as I land.” He whispered in Annie’s ear. “I love you.”

###

TAGLIST:  @ramibaby @xgoingdownx @qweenly @violetpond @sweeterthancheese @drummerqueenrmt @westansstuff @justgivemethekeys  @blondecarfucker @cheeseedreams47 @rogerspoison @deacy-dearest @pinkmarvel @onceuponadetectivedemigod

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

Dark Side: Part 3

Master: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin

Pairing: Steve X Reader

Summary: You expected Captain America to be a lot of things… You didn’t expect him to be anything like you. As it turns out, America’s Golden Boy may be more than a little tarnished.

Warnings: Violence, blood, feels, fluff, smut, everything

A/N: This bad boy is for @littledarlinhavefaithinme ‘s Marvelous Writing Challenge!

LOLOLOLOL WHAT HAVE I DONE. 

Well. This is longer than I expected but seeing as the challenge is over this week I thought I’d give it to y’all in one final beefy chapter filled with blood and emotions and smut and the bevy of human messiness that makes us all tick. The prompt is bolded. I need a drink. Aaaaand there is probs gonna be an epilogue because I have more ideas for these two. 

Hope y’all like my angsty Cap! 

Tags are open!

It takes two hours to clean up the mess.

He tells the police he had been here with a friend, who he told to leave as soon as the shot was heard, he saw the victim attacking a woman, she fired in self-defense, before he could question her she’d gotten lost in the crowd. As he conveyed his not entirely untrue story Natasha stared at him, eyebrows raised as if she didn’t believe him but she said nothing.

It didn’t matter. No one seemed too concerned with any of it. Almost to the point that it unnerved him. Both the DCPD and S.H.I.E.L.D. chalked it up to some random incident, bagged the body, took some statements and that was it.

“They’re not going to do anything more about this?” He asked Natasha as everyone dispersed.

She shrugged, “People die every day in this city. They’ll look into it but he’s likely just a thug who picked the wrong mark. Sucks to be him but if no one’s gonna miss him they’re not gonna waste the manpower on it.” He doesn’t like it. “Can’t save everyone all the time, Steve.”

That wasn’t what left a bad taste in his mouth but he couldn’t tell her that. With a cloud hovering over him he heads home, trying his best to push down the feeling in his gut that he’s missing something.

As he slips his key in the lock he hears water coming from the bathroom. His blood runs cold.

Quietly he opens the door. Slipping inside, he stands, hardly breathing as he assesses the situation. His shield isn’t where he usually leaves it, close to the door. However, he does see blood, drops trailing on the wood floor toward the bathroom. Even though he assumes it's you he cautiously makes his way through his apartment.

The door to the bathroom is just barely ajar. He shoulders it open and hears the click of a gun. You’re standing in the shower, shield raised, gun poised.

“Oh thank fuck,” you breathe out, shield dropping to your side revealing your muscular form clad in nothing but a pair of high waist lace underwear and a matching bra. He swallows hard, trying to pretend he doesn’t feel his cheeks heating.

“That thing is heavier than I thought it’d be.” You lean his shield against the wall beside the shower, setting your pistol beside it.

“They really just let you bring that home? I thought it’d be on lock up or something. Vibranium is worth a shit load.” He says nothing as he steps in, nothing the first aid kit, the blood in the bathtub, and discarded surgical thread in a pile.

“I’ll clean this up,” he’s surprised at the awkward tone in your voice. “I… uh… it’s hard to stitch up the back of your thigh yourself, in case you ever need to know.” Blood is still snaking down your leg, he can tell from the pool forming by your foot.

“I’d assume as much.” He has a million questions but for now, you need help. “Here,” he begins undoing the buttons on his shirt.

“You don’t have to-”

“I can’t just leave you bleeding in my shower. And I think I’m owed some answers. So, you’re gonna let me stitch you up and you’re going to answer my questions.”

“Authoritative. I’m into it.” He slides his gaze to you, as he tosses the shirt to his bed. That goddamn smirk on your lips. He’s got half a mind to turn you around in the shower and… No. You need help and he needs answers. That’s what this situation is. Nothing else.

He washes his hands and grabs a few rags, getting them wet. “Turn around, let me see.” Ignoring the blood he kneels behind you, setting the kit down beside him, to inspect the wound. It needs stitches but it’s not too bad.

“Am I gonna make it doc?” You look over your shoulder and down at him, voice dripping with mock concern.

“I think we can save the leg, just barely though.”

“Thank god. Though I could always replace it with a machine gun.”

“That may be the most ridiculous image I can imagine,” he laughs as he starts to clean the area around the wound.

You hiss just a bit before explaining, “It’s in a movie actually.”

“Well,” he pulls gauze from the kit to press to the wound, you brace yourself against the wall, “that sounds like a cinematic masterpiece.”

You laugh a little, “It’s so bad it’s almost good actually. Kind of a horror action combo.”

“Maybe I’ll watch it.” Gently he removes the blood-soaked pad before pressing another, the flow slows.

“I don’t know if it’ll be your taste.”

“Aren’t you the one always telling me to try new things?”

“Ok,” you laugh, “point.”

He threads a fresh needle, “Ready?”

“Can’t wait.” Your tone is flat, forehead pressed against the shower.

He’s impressed that you hardly flinch while he sutchures the wound. As he does so he can’t help but think about how quickly something like this would heal on him. He’d hardly bother to stitch it. He almost… envies you.

Once you’re stitched he tapes gauze over the wound and cleans the dried blood from the back of your leg. “You’re set, though I’d still maybe get it checked out.”

“Thanks, doctor Steve,” you turn and he’s eye level with those maddening lace underwear again.

Forcing his eyes away he stands, stepping out of the shower, heading to the sink, “Yeah, well I didn’t do it for free, Zelda. You owe me-”

“Y/N,” you say softly. He looks back at you as he soaps his hands. “My name… is Y/N.”

His face stretches into a smile. It’s pretty, suits you. Drying his hands he turns to you, “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

It’s not the smirk he’s grown to expect, the curling of your lips is genuine, soft, lighting your eyes. You nod, “I obviously owe you a new suit too,” you gesture to the bloodstained slacks. “Think I could add some other clothes to the tab? Unfortunately, my dress has seen better days.”

“Sure.” He heads into his room pulling sweats and a tee from a drawer. You’re rinsing the shower with the handheld head when he walks back in. He sets the clothes on the counter. “Don’t worry about the suit. Not like I bought it.”

“Still, thanks.”

“If I leave you in here are you gonna disappear again?”

“No promises,” the smirk back on your lips. He leans in the door, arms crossed. “I’m not going anywhere. I owe you, remember?”

He nods and leaves you. Grabbing fresh clothes himself he goes to the guest room to change too. When he opens the door, there you are. Before he can say anything your eyes fix on something behind him.

“Is that…?” You gesture to the almost finished canvas of St. Louis.

“Yeah…” He hasn’t felt this awkward in more than 70 years. “It… I…”

“You did this?!” You look awestruck.

He shrugs, “Yeah. I went to art school back in my day. It was kinda the only thing I was good at… well besides getting the shit kicked outta me.”

Your gaze has shifted from him back to the painting. “Steve… honestly… this is stunning.”

“Eh. I’m still not happy with the sky, it’s not the right kind of purple. The gradient is off too and my shadows need work.”

“Shut up. It’s beautiful. What the hell are you doing being a soldier?!”

“Could ask you the same thing.”

You scoff, “Nah,” something dark flits over your features when you turn back. “There’s no spectacular hidden talent here.”

“I doubt that.” He gives you a warm smile, “You’re one hell of a dancer.”

Your head tilts back in a laugh, “That’s me bein’ a ho. Nothing particularly special there.” You pat his chest as you walk from the room. “Mind if I nab some of that whiskey I saw in there?”

“Not at all.” He follows you out, “Have a seat and I’ll pour you a glass.” His eyes follow you to the living room, unable to ignore the curve of your ass as you walk.

He pours you a hearty bit of whiskey, certain your leg has to be hurting and he doesn’t have any other pain killer. For posterity, he pours some for himself too. It does nothing for him but the smoky taste is comforting.

“Here,” he hands you the tumbler.

“Thanks,” you wrap your fingers around the glass. Suddenly you look tired, smaller somehow.

He pulls the armchair close to the couch, not wanting to crowd you. For a few minutes, silence hangs. As adamant as he was earlier about getting answers, looking at you now he just wants you to rest.

“So…” you break the silence.

He sighs, “Let’s start with why you asked me out tonight.”

One perfect brow raises, “Because I wanted to.”

“And someone trying to kill you had absolutely nothing to do with it?”

“Not… exactly.” He doesn’t honor that with an answer, just stares at you. Nervously your nails tap the glass of the tumbler. “A few weeks ago I got tapped for a gig. Blind hire. Usually, I don’t even entertain jobs like that unless the pay is very good. This was, but when they told me who…”

Ah… he sees now. “How much is Captain America’s head going for these days?”

“Not funny.”

“I’m not laughin,’ just curious.”

“Millions.” Not bad. At least he knew he was worth something to someone, even if it was dead. “Thing is,” your voice pulls him back, “I have a, uh, reputation of sorts…”

“I don’t doubt that,” he smiles up at you through his lashes and your features soften.

“Fuck you.” Playfully you toss a couch pillow at him. “See, if you hire me you had better be damn sure your hands are cleaner than the person you’re sending me after.”

“If they’re not?”

That smirk plays on your lips. “Well, most times I’ll flip the gig. Tell whoever you hired me to go after what you’re doing, offer my services, usually make more than I was gonna before. And if not it’s at least more satisfying.”

“Judge, jury, and executioner.” He can’t pretend he approves.

You shrug, “I don’t trick myself into thinking it’s justice. It’s a job. That’s all. I just sleep better knowing I didn’t go after someone innocent.” His brows rise. “Yeah. That’s kind of my niche. I’m who the underground sends after their own.”

“Seems like a fine line to walk.”

“I’m very, very good at what I do. So, I’m tolerated.”

“Guessing I’m not dirty enough to justify being your mark.”

“Well… I’m sure in some ways… but not enough for me to put a bullet in you.”

“So you turned ‘em down.”

“No.” He can’t help but look surprised, you laugh. “Told them I needed 48 hours. I knew they’d go underground once I said no, so I needed time. There wasn’t any trail I could find to figure out who was putting the hit out but I did find a tie to my Popov job.”

You slam back the rest of your whiskey, “It was also a blind hire, great pay, but I didn’t look too far into it because he was a fuckin’ monster. Hell, I would have don’t it for a smoke and a beer. But I think they wanted to see if I I could get to someone even with you there…”

“And you did.”

“Yup.” You roll the glass in your hands, “Realized I wasn’t getting anything else on my own so contacted them in 30 hours, they thought I was going to say yes so they were pretty willing to share what they wanted.”

“They wanted more than me dead?”

“No, more like how… They didn’t care about anything else other than it looking like you went out in the line of duty a-”

“Hero’s death.” Bitterness fills his mouth.

“Something like that. And it was to be local, close to DC.”

“We don’t do many jobs close to home…”

“Figured as much.”

He nods, “So they worked out you were going to tell me and came after you?”

You shrug, “That or they planned on taking me out once I turned them down, just finally had a good window.”

He doesn’t like this. Not because someone was gunning for him, that honestly didn’t phase him. He doesn’t like that you were in the crosshairs over it. You may have a questionable day job but… you weren’t a bad person.

“So,” you slowly stand and walk to the table where your clutch and shoes wait, “I was thinking you could cash in on some of those clearly unused vacation hours.” Picking up your things you turn to him smiling. “Maybe see St. Louis for real or Notre Dame, Greece is great this time of year, or-”

“I’m not running.” He’s sort of touched and a part of him would love to go to any of those places with you but… Steve Rogers didn’t stand down from a fight.

“Steve… if someone tried to hire me they aren’t fucking around. They will find someone and-”

He stands, “I’ll be fine.” His hand rests on your shoulder, you lean into it a bit, taking weight off your leg.

Looking up at him your face is hard, “You won’t be.”

“And if I’m not America can have her martyr back, plus someone gets a great payday. Why does it matter to you?”

“Why doesn’t it matter to you?”

He holds your gaze, meaning every word, “Who’s gonna miss Steve Rogers?”

“Me.” He honestly wasn’t expecting that. A sad smile lifts your full lips, “I think I’d miss Steve Rogers… a lot.”

Something in him snaps at that. He’d felt so numb for so long and now he’s suddenly burning. Cupping your face he leans down pressing his lips to yours.

Your things clatter to the floor as you return the kiss, arms curling around his neck. He wraps you in his arms, holding you close and lifts you just a touch as your tongue finds its way between his teeth. The taste of whiskey and desire fill his mouth.

Steve can’t remember wanting something, someone, in so long…

You break the kiss, eyes burning into his own. “Please don’t do something stupid… please.”

“Promise I won’t if you stay.” Hope flickers in his chest for just a moment.

“I can’t…” It flickers out. “I’m sorry.” You release him and he makes sure you’re steady on your feet before he bends to retrieve your things. When he looks back he swears that’s disappointment on your face…

“Even just for tonight? Your leg…”

“Too risky,” your index finger traces his jaw, bottom lip catching in your teeth.

“Can I at least get you home?”

“I can manage, Cap.” You sigh heavily, “I should go…”

His eyes glue to the wood grain of the floor. “Ok.”

“I’ll see you around…” He looks up, then, the soft smile on your features telling him this is a request.

“Maybe.” You nod, darkness flickering behind your eyes. He won’t make promises he can’t keep. Holding your things he turns to walk you out, now just wanting this to be over.

At the door, you both stand awkwardly. “Here,” he hands you your things.

“Thanks.” you take them. “For everything.”

“Don’t mention it. Thanks for the warning.”

You nod. “Steve…” Your hand rests over his heart before your pleading eyes catch his, “Please be safe.”

He wraps your hand in his lifting it to his lips, “You too.”

You nod when he releases your hand, no doubt noting his avoidance. “Well, until next time.”

He opens the door, “Next time.” And then you’re gone.

-

The next few months crawl by. Anytime you’re not working is always miserably boring but you needed to lay low unless you wanted to end up in a shallow grave somewhere.

Your new found free time had left room for you to keep digging into Steve’s hit. What you were finding was… well, nothing short of a national crisis so wild and far-reaching that if you hadn’t been doing the research yourself you’d think it was bullshit. Honestly, discovering that the government was run by lizard people would have been more believable.

More than once you try to convince yourself to meet up with Steve, share all this. But… he wasn’t in a good place, that had been clear. You were pretty sure he wasn’t much better since you left him if your mostly unanswered texts were any indication. If you were to tell him you had evidence that Hydra, the organization he’d given his life to see destroyed, was still functioning… And that it was very possible that S.H.I.E.L.D. was involved… What would he do?

One morning you’re on your third cup of coffee, wondering how you’ll fill your day when your phone rings. The little hand drawn picture of a dick on a napkin that pops up tells you who it is.

“The fuck you want, Wade?” You hear Vanessa laugh in the background and can’t help but smile. “Am I on speaker?!”

“Of course. I only conduct sensitive business in the loudest way possible you know that. Oh and also, rude.”

You laugh, “What’s going on.”

Crunching echos on the other end before he answers. “You asked me to tell you if I heard any chatter about someone getting tapped for that Captain America gig you turned down?”

“Yeah?”

“Well. I heard something.” He says nothing else.

“Wilson. I know you love foreplay but now is not the time.”

“Ugh, you’re so boring.”

“She prefers me anyway,” Vanessa quips.

“She’s not wrong.”

He laughs, “Why am I friends with you again? You’re rude to me, prefer my girlfriend, you never come slap me around anymore, I mean honestly, Y/N.”

“Wade, I swear I’ll do more than slap you around next time if you just stop dicking around and tell me what you got.”

“Ooooh, see that’s what I’m talking about.” More crunching, “But in all seriousness, that’s not the promise I want from you. I tell you this, you tell him if you have to, but don’t get involved, this shit is way too risky.”

“Aww, you care.”

“Fuck you.” He sighs, “Private airport, DC, supposedly some child-smuggling ring, links to human experimentation. That’s at least the story on S.H.I.E.L.D.’s books. Don’t have an exact date but it’s likely going to be within a week.”

Bold of them to stick with that structure even after telling you… but it was a good enough cover, and if it worked… Fuck.

“Y/N… don’t be a dumbass. Why you give a fuck I don’t know but if you need to tell him, do it. That’s it though. Don’t get yourself killed.”

“I won’t, promise.”

“Good.”

“Thanks, Wade, seriously.”

“Anytime.”

“Love ya, Y/N!” Vanessa calls out.

“You too boo! Fuck ‘em up for me.” She laughs and the call ends.

For the next ten minutes, you just stare at your phone. Your fingers trace the shape of your lips, remembering the way he tasted, how warm his body felt… Suddenly you realize you may actually miss him.

Finally, you pick up the phone and tap out a text:

Y/N: Hey. We need to talk ASAP. Call me?

Hours come and go. You run, work out, clean, anything to try to keep yourself distracted but it doesn’t help. Every minute he doesn’t respond fills you with dread.

When you can’t stand it any longer you call him. It rings and rings until his voicemail picks up. You don’t leave one.

Two days later you feel physically sick from the stress. What if you were too late? What if he…

The phone rings, and you practically drop it in your haste to pull the thing from your pocket.

“Steve!?” You hate how desperate you sound.

“It’s the job with the kids isn’t it?” His tone stings a little… still…

“Yeah, it is. Don’t know who took it but it’s a safe bet it’s not someone to fuck around with.”

“Right. Well, thanks for the heads up.”

“Steve?!”

“What.”

“I… uh…” You don’t know what you expected… this wasn’t it. “Just… ya know, don’t die.”

“No promises.” With that, he hangs up.

It hurts more than you want to admit. Angry you storm to the garage and begin beating your punching bag until your knuckles bleed and tears run down your face.

You had made peace that the life you chose was a fairly solitary one. It was better that way. For some reason, though he made you wish that wasn’t the case… it didn’t matter. You couldn’t have him, he didn’t want you… And he’d likely be in a flag covered casket by the end of the week.

That thought makes you freeze mid punch.

No. You can’t let that happen. Rushing through the house you gear up, wrap your knuckles, and in less than an hour, your bike is thundering down the highway.

You’d been living in Pittsburg so it doesn’t take you long to get to DC. The sun had just set when you stand at his door, banging, heart threatening to burst from your chest.

As soon as it’s clear that he’s not going to answer you go outside and work your way up the fire escape, prying the window open like you did the last time you were here.

“Steve?” You call out, begging that if nothing else you’ll see his shield… There’s no Steve and no shield. “Fuck.”

Wade didn’t tell you what private airport. You wrack your brain, there were two that were legit just outside the city but you knew there were a couple more exclusive ones that wouldn’t be found through a simple Google search. You don’t hesitate to call in some contacts to find out where this may be going down. If someone wanted to rat you out so be it.

Favors called in, promises given, you finally have it narrowed down to two places. One on the books one off. The first one is the obvious choice, used mainly by wealthy dignitaries looking to avoid customs and it’s closer. It’s also a dead end. Cursing yourself you pray you’re not too late as you rush to the other private airport near College Park.

The place is dead… as is the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent near the front of the small check-in area. It reminds you how easily this could go wrong. You slip your phone out and text Wade.

Y/N: Look. If I eat it tonight this isn’t on you. Idk why he matters but he does and I couldn’t stay out of it. You know where my stash is, take Vanessa somewhere nice if I don’t come out of this. Love ya.

If you did live he’d likely kick your ass after this. You’d welcome it. Taking a deep breath you stalk slowly deeper into the airport.

The silence eats at you making your anxiety rise. If there was still a fight going on you’d hear something… if he was…

You hear glass breaking from down the small terminal. Immediately you take cover. Unable to see you let your ears do the work. Two, maybe three, a groan and a snap echos in the space. Well… two people. A shot goes off and you flinch but you have to look.

The merc isn’t someone you know but he’s big, a mountain of a man who’s bulk rivals Steve’s. Brass knuckles on his massive hand, in the other a gun.

“Honestly,” he speaks, clearly American, “I thought this would be harder.” A sinister grin fills his face, “But who am I to complain?”

He rushes Steve, landing a blow to his solar plexus. Steve gasps and the shield clatters to the ground. Before you know it your gun is in your hand and you shoot, not to kill but to distract.

“What the fuck?!” He takes cover as you let loose another shot.

“You scare easy for a big fucker!” You taunt more to let Steve know who’s here.

The glint of the metal on his knuckles tips you off before he can take his shot and you tumble toward Steve who’s still getting his breath. Pushing him to the side you fire.  

“What the hell are you-”

“Shut the fuck up.” You growl at him. From your belt, you pull a flash bomb and hurl it toward the merc. In a second it goes off and you pull Steve to his feet. “Come on.”

You head toward the front of the terminal, previously abandoned but you can hear the shuffle of people. Steve pulls you against him and against the wall, shield in front of you.

“Not yours?” You ask looking up at his bloody face partly covered by the cowl.

“No.”

“Great.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” he says low in your ear.

“Neither should you.” You push away from him, “This way.” Hopefully, you could get out the back of the terminal before the merc got his vision back.

Holding close to the wall you manage to make it to a side door. Relief begins to tickle at you. You just may get out of this alive. With no assailants near, you turn to him.

“So, I warn you that someone is trying to kill you and all you can do is run straight for the reaper!? I mean I get you don’t like me or approve or whatever but come on you could have at least-”

Unblinking he flings his shield behind you with a swish. You turn in time to see it slam into someone's neck, snapping it.

“-listened to me,” you finish your statement voice flat with restrained surprise.

“Never said I didn’t like you,” he pushes past you to retrieve the shield. “We should aim for the back.” You nod and follow him.

You cover one another as you slowly make your way to the gated back portion of the airstrip. The shrubbery would provide just enough cover once you got there and-

A bullet grazes Steve’s shoulder causing his shield arm to go slack.

“Shit,” he hisses. The shot came from the single-engine plane you had just cleared.

Whirling you take aim at the assailant and catch them in the chest as they try to take cover off the wing. With a clatter they tumble to the ground, head making a sick crack on the asphalt.

“They must have sent a team,” you say kneeling to look at his wound.

“Ya think?” He sets the shield against his calf for a moment while he tries to move his arm.

“You’re making me regret showing up to save your ass.” He huffs out a little laugh.

It happens so fast you can’t think. A shot rings to your left and you both look. He must have seen or heard something you didn’t because he’s got you by the shoulders pulling you to the ground and under him. You can feel the moment the bullet hits his body. He groans and goes heavy on top of you.

“Steve!” He says nothing and you manage to push him off gently. Blood stains the navy of his suit a darker shade and you can see the tip of the bullet glinting against the fabric. Through and through.

You grab the shield and deflect another volley of bullets from the two of you. Glancing over you see the big man from before. Great.

“Just go,” Steve groans.

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up earlier?” You rip your shirt off and toss it to him to press to his wound. “Don’t bleed out on me.”

Thinking fast you rise to your feet, shield before you and you fire at the man. One in the head, two in the chest. He’s only part of your problem. You can see movement toward the terminal…

The two of you need cover and a very loud distraction. You pull two smoke grenades and toss them toward the plane the shooter had been on. In just a minute there’s enough of a screen to shield you both for a moment.

“Ok,” you turn to him. “Cover your ears, it’s gonna get loud and then we’re gonna have to run like hell. Can you manage?”

He grimaces, blood suffusing his side. “Sure, why not.”

There’s no other choice. You pull the two concussion grenades you keep for special occasions from their holster. Flicking the pins and hoping for the best you hurl them one after the other in two directions before covering you both with the shield as best you can.

The one that lands by the plane has the desired effect, it blows close by and will only cause a bigger hazard as the fire you can see through the smoke spreads. The other doesn’t hit much but is loud enough to distract. Good.

“Time to go old man.” You help him up, shield on your free arm and you make your way to the fence. The link is easy to cut and you’re quickly through it into the brush.

“Where are we even going, Y/N? Just leave me here, my people will come and-”

“I’m not fucking leaving you.” Your tone is sharp. “We aren’t in the wilderness. There’s a strip mall not far. I’ll jump a car and get you…” Where?

“Just get me home.” You stare at him trying to gauge just how much he wanted to die. “If you take me to a hospital they’re gonna look for me and innocent people may get hurt. I’m not bleeding enough for this to be life-threatening-”

“You don’t-”

“You can stitch me up.” His smile is crooked.

“I’m not a fucking medic, Rogers.” If he died… You were wasting time. “Whatever fine. Come on.”

You manage to get him back to his apartment alive.

His massive form leans against you heavily. “Don’t fucking pass out on me now, Rogers.”

He grunts in response. “Table.”

Hastily you clear the mail and books from the table top. The heavy wooden furniture groans under him as he sits on it, shaking fingers fumbling to undo his tactical suit.

“Here,” you push his hands away. There are an annoying amount of zippers and connection points but you eventually get it loose to his waist.

Moving behind him you lean across the table to help slide the suit down his arms. At first, your breath catches at the way the muscles of his shoulders and upper back ripple, a fucking Grecian statue of a man. When your eyes trail down though…

Blood stains his side, leaking slowly from the bullet hole. Bruising, deep and painful, already blossoms around the wound. His arm is nowhere near as bad but still needs attention. You swallow hard, trying to calm the panic in your chest.

A clink on the table draws your eye away. The bullet, intact and bloody lies there.

“Jesus, Steve…” Your fingers barely touch the unbruised skin close to the wound. He shivers.

“Not to be an ass but-”

“Shit! Yeah, sorry.” Hurridly you run to the bathroom and tug out the first aid kit, in the same place it was before, and soak rags in warm water. When you come back in you notice Steve sway.

You slam everything down on the table. “Steve,” you grab him by the shoulders, “hey,” your hands move to cup his face. “Look at me.” Those cool blue eyes meet yours, hazy and distant, “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

His hands catch your wrists, strong fingers digging in. “No,” his voice is stern, eyes seeming to clear.

“Ok,” you don’t want to waste time fighting him. You wash your hands in scalding water, slip glovers over them, and pray to a god you had long since given up on that you don’t kill this man.

When you’re finally wrapping a bandage around him you feel like you’ve just sprinted 10 miles. Your hands are shaking, your nerves are fried, you want to throw up and pass out and have 40 drinks but… you did the fucking thing. So far, so good. He hadn’t fainted, bled out, or died.

You take a shaky breath as you secure the bandage and he catches your hands in his bloodstained paws. Slowly you drag your eyes to meet his, barely breathing.

“Thank you,” his features are so soft.

A dry laugh slips from you, “Thanks for not dying.” He squeezes your hands a bit.

“Come on,” you pull back to help him up. “Let’s get you cleaned up and in bed.”

“You don’t hav-”

“Consider it me protecting my hard work. I’m not about to have gone through that for you to fuck it up.”

“Fair,” he groans as he stands.

You guide him to the bathroom and he hesitates, “Seriously I-”

“Don’t blush Rogers, you’ve lost too much blood to send it running in places it shouldn’t be.” The look on his face is slightly shocked. You can’t help but laugh, “Look, do you really think you can get out of the rest of this gear on your own?” He shrugs. “No. You can’t. Don’t be a baby.”

Gently you push him toward the bathroom. “Sit.” He does so on the edge of the tub.

-

Steve watches you kneel before him, sure fingers untying the laces on his boots.

There was a time in his life he was used to being cared for. Honestly, it felt both like yesterday and an age ago… Unsurprisingly he still absolutely hates it.

You were right though. He wasn’t in the shape to do it himself.

“Stand for a sec, we need to get this suit off.”

He swallows hard. It wasn’t that he was particularly shy… but…

“I can’t let you hang around in bloody clothes, man.”

All he can manage is a nod. His legs shake as he stands and his head swims a bit from blood loss and lack of sleep. When was the last time he had a solid night’s sleep…

“Stay with me,” you reach out steadying him.

“Tryin’,” his tongue is thick in his mouth.

“Just a bit longer.” You give him a gentle reassuring smile.

He feels almost drunk. “You have a beautiful smile.” The words just fall from his lips. Some part of him is mortified until your smile brightens even more before you look away. “Now who’s blushing?” He teases.

“Ya know I was gonna let you keep some of your dignity and give you a towel to cover up with. Now I’m not so sure.” You look back at him and wink.

“I got nothin’ to hide.”

“I bet.” That spark in your eyes makes the muscles in his abdomen clench painfully.

He’d be lying if he tried to pretend he’d never wondered what you’d look like on your knees. However, in none of his imaginings were you working a blood-soaked tac suit off him while he fought to stay conscious. But since when had anything in his life gone to plan?

“Boxers?”

He blinks at you, “What?”

“Your boxers. You need some that don’t look like evidence.”

He looks down, the ones he’s wearing are half grey and half crimson. “Top drawer.” You disappear and return with boxers and sweats.

You hand him a towel, “Thought I’d be nice.”

Wordlessly he takes it, holding it loosely in front of himself. When your fingers hook around the elastic of his boxers, your body lowering slowly down with the garment, eyes locked on his, he feels like he can’t breathe.

“Hangin’ in there, Cap?” Mischief glints in your eyes.

“Mhm,” he nods his head. You turn to wet a rag and, despite his best efforts, his mind fills with images of tearing your tac pants off your body and fucking you over the sink until you can’t stand.

His throat goes dry as you turn back. Unsuccessfully he tries holding the towel out a touch further to hide how hard he is.

The corner of your mouth ticks up, your warm hand on his chest causing his heart to beat a little faster. “What’d I say about keeping blood where it belongs?” Your voice is a purr.

Steve huffs out a small laugh, grimacing at the movement. You drop to your knees, gently washing the blood off his thigh. Bullet wound be damned. His fingers release his grip on the towel.

“Steve…” Your eyes lift up to his, the tip of your tongue flitting out to touch your bottom lip. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “You just got shot… I don’t want to hur-“

“Please.” He doesn’t care. Doesn’t care that his knees feel week, that his head is filled with fog, or that he could have died tonight. He didn’t die. And he wants you… it’s the first time he’s wanted anything… anyone, in so long…

He won’t force you but his eyes are begging, he knows. As you stand disappointment feels heavy in his gut. But…

The bloodstained rag lands with a thwack in the tub. Your calloused palm rubs the stubble on his cheek before pulling his face to yours. It’s a soft kiss, your mouth warm and inviting. He groans as your hand wraps around his cock.

“Sit,” you whisper against his lips. He lowers to the edge of the tub and you settle between his thighs.

Your fingers trail feather light touches down his chest, your lips following close behind. Lust and adrenaline clear his mind. Even so, there’s nothing but you right now.

Those eyes of yours look up at him, smirk on your full lips. Your tongue languidly runs up the length of him, catching the bead of moisture gathering at his head. His breath stutters and you hesitate.

“Please don’t stop.” He needs this… maybe more than he wants it.

Without hesitation your tongue traces his head before taking the length of him, your eyes never wavering. He hit’s the back of your throat and a growl rumbles in his chest. One hand grips the tub’s edge his other cupping the back of your head.

Lifting up, your hand wraps around his shaft, twisting a touch as your mouth applies the faintest suction to his head. The fingers of your free hand run over his balls and down…

His head falls back. Deft fingers massage the tender flesh just behind his sack while your palm cups his balls, pressing up ever so slightly. After only a few minutes the steady motion… the sound… his exhaustion… everything comes to a peak.

“Y/N… I… I…” The words won’t form. He can’t…

Fingers tangle in your thick hair, his body tenses, and the sound that tears through him is not quite a scream but it’s more than a moan. It reverberates against the tile walls. His body shakes.

When his vision clears he sees you, eye level, brushing a drop of cum from the edge of your grinning mouth. His eyes flutter.

“If you faint on me I swear…”

“No, I… I’m good.” With a shaking hand, he pulls your face to his, kissing you softly. “I am afraid I won’t be able to repay the favor tonight I-”

“Don’t. Consider it a thank you for taking a bullet for me.”

“I didn-”

“Yes, you did.” Your gaze is stern and he knows he can’t argue. He did. He knows he did.

Cleaned up, dressed, and thoroughly spent he lets you lead him to his bed. He winces, as his back meets the mattress.

You sit next to him on the bed, “Do you have anything you can take for pain?”

He shakes his head, “Nothing really works. Perk of being a super soldier…”

“That’s some shit.” He nods. “Are you comfortable enough?”

“Yeah. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” your gaze shifts away.

Sighing you stand. For reasons he’s too exhausted to identify, panic grips his chest and his hand shoots out for yours.

“Don’t go… please… I… I don’t…” Want to be alone. Are the words his pride just won’t let him say, even now.

Your fingers lace between his, “I wasn’t gonna leave you, Steve. Not like this.” Relief floods his body. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

He tightens his grip. “You don’t have to sleep out there… it’s a big bed.” A hopeful, crooked smile lifts his lips.

“Ok… but I’m stealing a shirt.” Your smile makes your eyes flash and his heart leap.

“Fine by me.”

He drifts off once you disappear into the bathroom only waking when he feels you slide into the bed next to him. Eyes at half mast he reaches out to you. Carefully you let him pull you close.

This… the feeling of you next to him, your hand over his heart, cheek on his chest… he didn’t know how desperately he needed this. Despite the wound in his side and everything in his head, he sleeps hard through the night.

Morning’s light slowly wakes him. Already the serum in his veins has worked overtime, the pain far less than it was last night.

A rustling next to him draws his gaze and warmth fills his chest. He expected you to be gone by morning… Instead, you’re sound asleep, back pressed to his side.

His smile is so wide it makes his cheeks ache a bit. Worried that he’ll wake you if he moves he contentedly dozes, opening his eyes here and there to watch the steady rise and fall of your breath or study the colors of your hair in the sunlight.

He wants to paint you… just like this… He closes his eyes, imagining the canvas.

“Good morning,” your voice sounds petal soft. His eyes open to see your face in the warm light, a soft smile on your lips.

“Morning.” Neither of you says more. Somehow you’re content to study the other… Until your phone begins to blare a song from your pants pocket.

“Shit!” Frantically you scramble up and fish the phone from your pants.

“Hey!” Your tone is forced. Someone screams something on the other end, he can’t quite make out the words though. “Not dead. Sorry… I… I know… I… Wade… Just…” He sees your features shift, “Yeah… Yeah, I got it. Love you too.”

You toss the phone on the end of the bed and rub your hands over your face. The last bit of that conversation had him burning though…

“Boyfriend?”

“What?” Your brows knit. “Oh! Fuck no.” You laugh a little and he feels himself cool. “Best friend. He tipped me off about last night, told me not to get involved…”

“And he’s pissed you didn’t listen.”

“Something like that…” You look at him, eyes… sad.

“Y/N?”

“I have to go…” You catch your bottom lip in your teeth.

He shoots up from the bed, wincing at the pain but not stopped by it. “Why? Do they know you-”

“No,” you hold your hands up, resting them against his chest when he stops in front of you. “They suspect though so it’s best I get the hell outta dodge before they can confirm anything.”

“You don’t have to go…” His voice holds a twinge of desperation. “I can get you S.H.I.E.L.D. protection,” something darkens your features at this but he keeps going, “and I would… look out for you.” He rests his hands on your shoulders.

Your eyes fix to the floor, “I can’t, Steve. It’s too risky for both of us.” The twinge in his chest is alleviated a touch by the look of longing on your face when he tilts your chin up.

“I need you to promise me something.” Your somber tone chills him.

“Ok…”

“Look out for yourself, watch your back. Don’t trust anyone, even S.H.I.E.L.D. to protect you…”

“Y/N… I’ve got good people, you don’t have to-”

“Promise me, Steve. Even good people can be bought.”

“They couldn’t buy you,” he traces the curve of your brow down to your soft, rose-colored lips.

That smirk again, “I’m not good people.”

“Yes, you are.” Pulling you to him he kisses you, hard this time, hungry. A few steps back and he has you pinned against the wall, he can feel your heart thundering in your chest.

“You could stay and have my back,” his lips graze the tender flesh under your ear.

“I can’t,” your voice is thick with emotion. When he looks at you tears shimmer in your eyes, threatening to fall.

“Please…” A trembling hand cups his face, “Please, promise me you’ll be smart… don’t-” Your voice cracks but you fight to keep your composure. “Don’t run toward death…”

He’s not certain it’s a promise he can keep but… “I promise, Y/N.” One tear escapes the corner of your eye, he thumbs it away. “But you have to promise the same.”

A bitter laugh pops out, “I’m not the one to worry about here but… yeah. I promise.”

He kisses you again, wanting to hold on to the way it makes his chest burn, the movement of your lips on his the… Feeling of being alive, not just angry, for the first time in a long time.

The two of you say nothing else, each seemingly not trusting what may come from your mouth, as you change. He sits on the edge of the bed, watching you, dreading the moment he has to let you go.

“You should definitely get that looked at,” you gesture to the bandage.

“What? Don’t trust your tabletop nursing skills?”

“Absolutely not.”

He slowly stands, “I will.”

Without prompting, you wrap your arms around him, taking care to avoid his injury, and tuck your face in his neck. The two of you stand like that for a while.

There are so many things he wants to say but he doesn’t. He just contents himself with burying his nose in your hair, allowing the warm intimacy of the moment to wash over him.

A heavy sigh tickles over his skin and he knows it’s time to let go.

At the door you turn back to him, eyes glassy once more. “Remember, don’t trust anyone… not with everything.”

“I got it.” One final time his lips press to yours, slow and longing.

Your forehead rests against his, your eyes speaking volumes, as you whisper, “I’ll miss you, Steve Rogers.”

Those three words hit him harder than that bullet had. His mouth hangs slack just a touch.

You smile, “Gonna catch a fly.” Playfully you lift up his chin. “Be safe.”

“You too, Y/N.”

One more kiss… and again… you’re gone.

-

True to form. Steve Rogers surprises you. This time by wheedling his way into your heart and mind so deep you cannot fucking shake him.

To protect you both you don’t call or text, the risk too high. You do, however, send him a letter. There’s no return address and no long written missives. The papers contain numbers, coordinates for a house in Buffalo New York and two words. Love, Zelda With a red lip print over them.

You don’t expect him to come here. All you wanted was for him to know you were safe and that if he needed a place to go he had it.

A few jobs came and went. Winter faded into spring. You began to wonder if maybe you could meet up now if things had quieted enough. Because despite trying desperately to convince yourself otherwise… you desperately missed him.

Then all hell broke loose.

Glued in front of your TV you watch in horror as S.H.I.E.L.D., quite literally falls. You’re blowing up with information from all your contacts. Inbox, dark web forums, everything.

Hours pass that feel like days… No one had reported on Steve’s condition, just that Captain America had been spotted in the fight. A curious numb sensation creeps over you at the thought that he may be gone.

Finally, someone comes through. This time it’s not your usual sources but an old military friend. Rogers was in his hospital, injured but not at risk of death, and no, he wasn’t alone. Someone, a male friend, was with him. Had been the whole time. You nearly sob from relief.

As media attention on the fiasco rises you know there’s no way for you to get close without being spotted. The last thing he needs is to be seen with someone like you. So you allow yourself to be thankful that he’s still here, letting that be enough.

Several weeks later you pass out hard after a long, trying day.

The Hydra files Romanoff released had rocked your world. Nearly everyone you knew had been pinged by those bastards at some point. Including you. This meant everyone was reevaluating their loyalties, cutting ties, and more than a few had already been put down… The fear and paranoia were real and exhausting.  

When a sound from your kitchen hits your ears in the middle of the night you shoot up. Hand already wrapped around the pistol under your pillow. Apparently, this was the day.

Not bothering with formalities like pants, you quietly creep to your cracked bedroom door and nudge it open just enough. Without a sound you stalk down the short hall, breath bated.

All you can see in the dim light is the intruder’s back. Wide, shoulders move as they finish a bottle of whiskey and set it down, not even trying to be quiet. A car passes and illuminates familiar golden hair. Steve…

You lower your gun, “Wanna tell me what you’re doing in my kitchen at three in the morning?”

He turns slowly, the shadows making his features almost sinister. “Did you know?” Voice barely above a whisper.

“Know what?” You set the gun on a side table and move to stand on the opposite side of the kitchen island. “About S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

Almost too fast for your eyes to follow, he rounds the counter, grabbing your shoulders and pinning you hard against the wall. Your breath is heavy from a mix of fear and maybe a touch of excitement.  

“Fuck S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Ok,” your voice breathy as you try to regain composure. “Well for what it’s worth, no, I suspected S.H.I.E.L.D. but I didn’t have anything concrete. Hydra…” Your eyes dart away, “That I did know about…”

“No,” his fingers dig into your upper arms, his breath scented with whiskey. “The Winter Soldier,” he spits the title out, “did you know who he was?!”

You look back to him, brows knit. “Uh… until a few weeks ago I thought he was the bogeyman of criminals… so… no. Should I know him?”

Some of the rage seeps from Steve’s features, “Steve?” You place your hand against his unshaven cheek.

In an instant, his mouth covers yours, warm and whiskey flavored. You almost groan in satisfaction. His massive form presses into you and you savor the sensation.

He runs his hands down your sides as your arms curl around his neck. When he slips his hand in the front of your boy shorts you make a small sound, you already know what he’ll find.

When he feels your moisture, those strong fingers sliding just over your damp folds a grin fills his face but he doesn’t make a move.

“Please,” you echo his request from months before.

That's all it takes. His lips crash against yours, teeth knocking slightly, and two of his fingers slip in, stretching you open. You moan into his mouth, hips bucking, your body hungry for him.

Wanting to touch him your hands move under his shirt, holding his sides as he works your cunt. When his fingers curl up just enough your nails dig into his skin. You feel the tension gather in your abdomen. Wordlessly you beg him not to stop.

“Steve…” Your breath hitches.

His thumb rolls lightly over your clit. Your head would have thudded against the wall had he not cupped it, forcing your gaze to stay on him. His blue eyes burn into you, he picks up the pace, thumb making steady circles over your throbbing clit.

“Fuck… fuck…”

“Come for me,” he growls.

You do. In earth-shattering fashion. Crying out, electricity pulses through your body, your legs tremble, your knees give way. He pulls his hand out of your underwear and catches you, holding your trembling body close.

This lasts only until you feel the length of him move through his denim. That was incredible but you want all of him.

Your unsteady hands reach for his belt. Fingers, that can’t quite obey orders yet try to convince the offending garment to give up its prize. His hands grasp yours, stopping their work.

He kisses you, the distraction enough that you don’t resist him as he spins you toward the island. Strong hands turn you, pressing your back to his chest.

Lips trail down your neck, goosebumps cover your skin. He catches the hem of your tee and pulls it over your head. Not trusting your legs to hold you, your hands brace against the counter and his teeth bite at the soft flesh where your neck and shoulders meet.

“Steve,” you breathe out.

The tinkling of his belt buckle hits your ears and fuck, a zipper going down had never sounded so promising.

His hand wraps lightly around your throat, tilting your head back just under his chin. “How do you want it?” His voice burning velvet.

Your eyes flit to his, “Give me everything. Don’t hold back.” Lust sparks in his eyes and he kisses you breathless.

Moving your underwear to the side with one hand and pressing your chest to the counter with the other he slams the full length of his cock into you. You gasp raggedly, body pressing back to him. This is the best kind of hurt.

Steel fingers dig into your hips holding you steady as he fucks you so hard you forget anything else. Your moans and cries mingle with his low sounds. Everything is this.

His hands release you but he doesn’t stop fucking you. Vaguely, you’re aware of something falling to your side. When he grabs a fistful of your hair pulling you up against him you realize it was his shirt, his burning flesh pressed to your own.

The other hand dips into your sopping boy shorts and effortlessly locates your clit once more, his cock throbbing inside you.

“Look at me,” he says in a gravel tone. You do as he asks and a whimper slips from you, his fingers and cock driving you mad. “You like that, baby?”

Words are lost. He fills your parted lips with a kiss and you fill his mouth with your cries of pleasure as you come once more.

You can hardly breathe now, much less stand. With a self-satisfied smirk on his lips, he lifts you into his arms. Your hungry mouth kisses and nibbles the salty skin of his neck as he carries you back to your room.

Tossing you on the bed he slips out of his jeans and you free yourself of your underwear. For a moment he just stares at you, on your back in the dim space, legs spread, waiting for him to take you.

Moving with the fluidity of a big cat he hovers over you. Your hands trail over the solid muscles of his back, fascinated at the power housed in this body.

This time he enters you slowly. Your legs wrap around him and a low rumble vibrates through his chest.

“Y/N,” he hums next to your ear.

You grab his face, bringing it up so you can see him. His breath is ragged. Intentionally you tighten your walls against him his lids flutter and a soft moan falls from his lips.

His pace quickens and your body responds, hips rising to meet him, demanding evermore.

“Fuck,” he breathes out grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head with one hand. The other lifts your head to more easily kiss you.

“C-can I,” he stutters between kisses.

“Yes,” your legs tighten around him, “god yes.”

He roars, your back arches up, moan raw tearing from some hidden place in you. Then there’s nothing but the soft sounds of your panting breaths.

Steve’s body shakes, the weight of it on you strangely comforting. When he looks at you all the rage and fire are gone, replaced with a mournful sadness. The past few weeks had been hard on you… they had to be hell on earth for him.

Tenderly you kiss him. “Stay here.”

His brows knit, “You sure…? I… I… don’t…”

“Hush,” your fingers try to coax the lines of his forehead into relaxing. “I want you to stay.”

You’re thankful he doesn’t protest more. In fact, he doesn’t say much of anything. He does let you hold him. At times you think he may be crying but his cheeks are dry despite his labored breathing.

You’re drifting off, for now resting your head on his chest, when he asks, “Do you like your bed?”

“Huh?” You aren’t sure your groggy brain understood.

“Your bed. Do you… like it?”

You consider for a minute. “It’s ok. Kinda soft.” Honestly, you could never find the right firmness.

He laughs a little, “Apparently it’s a complaint a lot of Vets have. Bed’s being too soft.”

Leaning up on an elbow you look down at him, “Ya know… You’re right. Friend’s of mine complained about that too. Sometimes…” You shake your head a bit at yourself, “Sometimes I even sleep on the floor if I can’t fall asleep in my bed.”

Steve softly caresses the side of your face, a weak smile on his lips, “Me too.”

“Do you want to?” Hopping off the bed you pull the comforter off, not giving him time to answer. “Grab the pillows. No need to deny ourselves that small comfort.”

“We don’t… I wasn’t…”

You’re already laying the comforter on the ground. “I want to. Now come on.”

He brings the pillows over and arranges them while you grab another blanket for you both to cover up with. Quickly the two of you settle down.

After a while, Steve whispers into your hair, “Thank you.”

“You don’t have anything to thank me for, Rogers.”

“Yeah, I do.” You look up at him, his eyes glassy in the dim light. “You saw all of me… the darkest parts… from the beginning and you didn’t run away.”

“Technically…” You tease.

“Shut up,” he smiles but a tear finally works it’s way free. You brush it away.

“You’re not alone, Steve. We all have our dark sides. I’m right there with you.”

He nods, chewing on his bottom lip. 

Now the tears come. Silent at first and he doesn’t let you brush them away or offer him comfort of any kind. He just hides his face, one knee pulled up. When the sobs start you don’t let him push you away.

You can’t fathom the depth of his grief. Everything and everyone he lost… now he had the one thing that gave him stability ripped from under his feet… You don’t have to truly understand it to anchor him though.

Captain America may look out for everyone else. He may be the beacon and hero the country, hell the world, needs right now… But you, you would look out for Steve Rogers. No matter what.

@mywinterwolf @disagreetoagree @breezy1415 @peachthatdrinkslemonade @wonderlandmind4 @piensa-bonito @buckysstar @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @siriuslycloudy2

[anipwrites]

24- 29 :)

24. favorite scene you’ve ever written

I think my favorite scene I’ve written ever is probably either when Nathanael gets reakumatized in A Darkened Soul, when Nathanael is fighting Ladybug and Chat Noir in the same story, or when Le Dessinateur, Reflekta, and Princess Fragrance all fight Ladybug and Chat Noir in The Disposables. Or when Nathanael meets and talks to Master Fu in Ain’t Clowning Around. Or literally whenever a clown appears in Ain’t Clowning Around. Its so hard to choose just one.

(Skips 25 to put it at the end)

26. story you’re most proud of

Honestly? It’s not the most popular one, but I’m really proud of Ain’t Clowning Around. Its nowhere near finished, and I’m hoping to make it a series, but its the first time I’ve ever bent canon this far and I think it’s going pretty well. Alternatively, A Darkened Soul, because it’s the first time I’ve ever finished a fanfic that wasn’t just a one-shot. And Last Christmas, because it was directly based off of my favorite Christmas song in all eternity, and I actually DIDN’T just copy and paste the lyrics into the fic like I do with any other songfic, and it came out really well imo, so.

(Skips 27 because that gets long too)

28. worst review you ever got 

“I'll be honest: I expected this to be a bit more... Serious and mature.” on ff.net, The Disposables, Chapter 2. Like, geez, if you want ‘serious’ and ‘mature’ then write your own. Its going to be fairly serious, but you need a bit of comedy between the serious to relax, right? I think. Unless this guy just loves to orgasm off seriousness in fanfic or something. Like, Chill, my dude.

“Why didn't Nathaniel just draw new clothes? XD” on ff.net, THe Living Nightmare, Chapter 3. I mean, I’m just being salty with this one, but. Wow. Its almost as if he’s not going to do that neXT CHAPTER. HE WAS GONNA UNTIL IVAN’S DAD GAVE HIM PAJAMAS TO WEAR HOLY SHIT DUDE.

“They're being mean to them because they murdered six kids to try and get out and commit more genocide to be free, taking their souls. Oh, and they can shoot energy beams. And fireballs. And summon hordes of flies.It's called "reasonable suspicion" or "reasonable concern". Every single monster can do magical attacks of some kind in the game as we saw. And can claim souls after killing a human. No normal human can do that. Humans have every reason to be A LITTLE AFRAID of these monsters, dude. It's not just a matter of "cuz they're different". I see that over and over again with Undertale works, and every time I have to shake my head. It's just simply a lie to say it's simple racism. This isn't like being afraid of black people or Asians, where the only difference is skin color. No black person can teleport around, or have bones pop up to barrel into you, or shoot magic spears!” SurfaceTale, Chapter 1, Fanfiction.net. Like, okay, this was the VERY first review I got on this story, and it was my first time writing fanfiction in a really long time, and I had written it together with my friend, and I was so excited to finally put it up and then I got THIS in my inbox. Honestly probs one of the reasons I didn’t continue it.

29. favorite story/poem of another author

*sigh* okay lets GO 11 PM CONFIDENCE DON’T FAIL ME NOW

“The Weight of Jade” by @thelastpilot​

“Illusions and Illustrations” by @nobodys-pearls​ (is this the right one omg)

“The Akuma Hunger Games” by @queenkubdel​

Thats about it thats all I can remember off the top of my head I am SORRY but also these stories both inspired me the most to write. Like, Illusions and Illustrations inspired me to write Casual Villainy (which lead to A Darkened Soul) and Ain’t Clowning Around (which lead to about everything else), and Illusions AND Jade both are like *wipes tear* writing GOALS OH MY GOD. Like the Warriors series is what inspired me to write in the first place but these two are what inspired me to write AGAIN OH MY GOD

And Akuma Hunger Games is a good read for a few laughs and its genuinely entertaining and I think about it when I’m sad to cheer me up sometimes.

NOW BACK TO THE ONES I SKIPPED Y’ALL ARE IN FOR A RIDE

asks for fanfic writers

25. favorite line you’ve ever written

Oh my gosh. So hard. I’ll just post a few favorites. Just a warning that some aren’t as eloquent and symbolic as you might be expecting from an author lol.

This is where this starts to get long, so read below. (I can never keep these short dammit)

“The Evillustrator stood before her. But most importantly, her son did. He was hurt, and he needed to be saved from the beast that had taken over him.

The only problem was he clearly didn't want help.”  A Darkened Soul, Chapter 2

“Feline fucker”  ADS, Chapter 2

“The Evillustrator heard her and scoffed. "Do you really think you can stop me with those?! Fat chance, Lady Bitch!"

"Hey! Language!" she huffed, crossing her arms as she looked around for any indication on how to use the round stones in her hand.”  ADS, Chapter 2

““...well, I mean, he didn’t say anything, but he was there, and to be completely honest neither of them had to do that. They could’ve just left me there, and I’m really glad they didn’t. It’s almost like… I dunno how to explain it, but it’s like… I mean, they’re the heroes of Paris. They deal with crazies all the time, they don’t really have to stop and help each and every time. And yet, they do it anyways. They definitely helped Paris that Saturday, but they took a bit of time and helped me too. And I’m grateful.” Nathanael took a breath. “They reminded me that people make mistakes, but in the end, I still have friends to fall back on. Whether it’s Chloe tormenting us, or Ms. Mendeleev talking shit about our grades, or if we just woke up on the wrong side of bed, we have people to support us. And I’m grateful for that; some people don’t have half as much. And I hope that I can find the courage to be a support system for someone else.””  ADS, Chapter 4

“He felt a sharp burning seize his chest and his heart beat fast with adrenaline. He wasn't going to let this happen if he could stop it. Nathanael Kurtzberg was not going to be to blame for some poor old man dying from a construction accident. He was there, he could do something, so he would. Or at least try his best. His grip against his sketchbook shifted into a one-handed gasp as he rushed forwards. He wasn’t aware of the fact that he was shouting for the man to ‘look out’, was barely aware of the fact that he was actually doing this until he grabbed the old man and pushed him aside, away from the path of the falling brick.” Ain’t Clowning Around, Chapter 2

“all he saw was his reflection in the mug, and he didn't much like what he saw. A too-short, too-scared boy with no one who cared for him, not even his own parents. How pathetic. He only felt more pathetic when he looked up and saw the sympathetic look in the old man’s eyes.” ACA, Chapter 2

“‘You wanted to drown Marinette and Chat Noir!’

Monster.

‘You wanted to torture me!’

Monster.

‘You wanted to work for Hawkmoth!’

Monster!

That’s all he was, all he was ever going to be, a monster! Why was he cursed like this, why did he remember so much, why! Had he really wanted it? Had he really wanted all of that?! If given the chance again, would he accept Hawkmoth’s deal with open arms?! Was he just a tool?! Would he say no, was it possible to say no?!” ACA, Chapter 2

“A sudden flash of color caught his eye just enough for him to turn his head slightly, and he felt his heart skip a beat at what he saw. It was the clown. It lifted a finger and beckoned for him to come closer, to cross the street and hear whatever he had to say. Every instinct told him to run, his brain was screaming for him to fight or fly, he felt his muscles tense for a sudden outburst of energy. And yet, something was telling him to come closer. This clown clearly wanted something, maybe he had dropped an ID or something and he was trying to give it back? Curiosity began to overtake the panic in his brain, and he almost crossed the street.” ACA, Chapter 3

“Nathanael Kurtzberg was not having this voodoo crap.” ACA, Chapter 3

“For maybe the second or third time that day, adrenaline tore its way through his veins and he punched the clown in the face, right in the nose, and felt a satisfying crack.” ACA, Chapter 3 (This line and the other one are one after the other but they’re favs for two different reasons so)

“He wouldn’t have to deal with Chloe and creepy clowns if he was dead.” ACA, Chapter 4. Me too, Nathanael, me too.

“What the hell was in that tea that old man gave him earlier?!” ACA, Chapter 4. Pfffft bahahahaha

“Soon he barely even felt her there, barely even felt the pencil in his hand or the desk under him. He just felt his eyelids getting heavy, and his body felt weightless. His pencil was moving in his hand, but it felt distant, unattached. The lamplight dimmed as the word vanished behind his eyelids.” ACA, Chapter 4. First time I’ve ever really written someone slowly falling asleep while doing something, and after getting some help on it, I really like how it turned out.

““Holy fuck, I’m late!” Nathanael exclaimed, jumping to his feet as he scrambled to get his things together. His alarm had been ringing for twenty minutes already, school was going to start in thirty, and it took fifteen to get over there! How had he missed the alarm?!A quick glance at his phone revealed that the ringer had been switched off.

Nathanael hated his phone.” ACA, Chapter 5. Me too, Nathanael.

“Nathanael swallowed. He wasn’t going to let them get to him this time. Biting remarks tended to cause things to take bad turns when it came to Chloe. He’d have to find another way to defuse the--

“Well, at least he has a mom!” Everyone’s jaw dropped to the floor at Lila’s comment. then Chloe’s eyes narrowed viciously.

Goddammit, Lila.” ACA, Chapter 5. Me too, just--Goddammit, Lila.

““Well, fuck!!” he jumped up and grabbed his bookbag and his hat again.“Nathanael!”“Sorry, I meant frick!”” ACA, Chapter 6.

“Did she understand how much she'd taken from him? Everyone had heard of her little speech about how her locker was her 'private garden' and how those who entered without permission 'broke her soul and stole her privacy.' If some dumb locker was a private garden, his sketchbook had been Eden. And Chloe had just broken in with a steamroller and turned paradise into a wasteland.” The Living Nightmare, Chapter 1

“Why was Chloe Bourgeois allowed to stomp around like some kind of tyrant and crush everyone's emotions underfoot with no consequence? It wasn't fair, it just wasn't, he--

The room took a hazy purple glow as a dark voice dripped like sweet poison into his ears.” TLN (I just love writing people getting akumatized or re-akumatized but this is one of my favorites for just how SUDDEN it is)

“"I… I said no." he felt so much power in that word. Last year, he'd been faced in this situation and had said yes. This simple, two-letter word had so much strength now. He'd fallen before, he'd let him control him before. But not today.” TLN, Chapter 1

“His answer came to him in the form of a sharp pain in his chest. He let out a strangled scream as the pain branched out from his chest and into every fiber of his being. It felt like he was being torn in half, limb by limb, atom by atom, molecule by molecule. As the world went black around him, he thought he heard Hawkmoth's evil laughter. He thought he heard Chloe's mocking cackle.

He thought he saw his fingertips turning purple.” TLN, Chapter 1. Like, Jesus Christ, for how much I hate feeling pain I damn sure love putting my favs through it am good at writing it.

“Wow. Hawkmoth was a dick.” TLN, Chapter 1. ME TOO NATHAN.

“Nathanael hadn’t dared let himself leave the alley. It was still the middle of the afternoon; going out in broad daylight would only bring about more screams and accusations. He didn’t want to face them. He wasn’t ready to.” TLN, Chapter 2

““Uh-oh. Emotions in Paris are never a good idea.” Ivan joked.” TLN, Chapter 2

““Well, I was in my room all emotional and stuff and all of a sudden Hawkmoth’s like ‘lol I am Hawkmoth you’ve failed me once but I’m giving you another opportunity to snatch some jewelry for me.’ ” He grinned when Ivan started laughing at his Hawkmoth imitation.” TLN, Chapter 2. I just imagine Nathanael trying to make his voice go as deep and Batman-y as possible and coughing sometime after that. Little laugh break in a serious story.

“Ladybug continued on about how she should’ve been more careful, more considerate, but to be honest Nathanael had stopped listening. They were standing under a street light, the harsh yellow glow glinting off of her earrings. He could see the vibrant, almost glowing red of them, five black spots crossing the smooth surface in an ‘x’. And Chat Noir’s ring… the glowing green pawpads across the smooth black surface…

He didn’t just want them. He needed them. As everything went dark and he heard a voice telling him to ‘Get the Miraculouses,’ he followed orders.” TLN, Chapter 2. If this line had its desired effect, at least one person reading this story immediately thought, or called out, ‘HOLY SHIT’ when they read this set of lines.

“All he had to do was formulate a good lie to tell this kid, maybe he’d come from a costume party or--

“I’m a costume party.”

The fuck???” TLN, Chapter 3. You know how when you’re trying to decide whether you’re gonna say one of two variations of something and you accidentally end up just mashing the two together somehow?? Or does that only happen to me.

““So how exactly did all of this happen?” ‘Pops’ suddenly asked. “Y’know, the…” he gestured at the entirety of Nathanael’s existence.” TLN, Chapter 3. Me too, Pops, me too.

“He found little bruises and scrapes on his arms and legs when he took off his suit, but he was also pleased to discover that yes, there was underwear under this thing. It just wasn’t his boxer-briefs. They were briefs, if even that, more like a speedo.

He hated speedos with a passion.” TLN, Chapter 3. Because A) I bet at least one person was expecting me to not give him underwear and launch into a detailed discussion of his penis or something and HAH SUCKERS and B) Seeing as the only male underwear I’ve ever handled was my Dad’s, I don’t actually know what teen guys wear, so I had to google ‘what kind of underwear do teenage boys prefer’ AND look at pictures to decide not only what would he have preferred but also what he ended up with instead. I did RESEARCH  for these four lines.

““Je suis le Pire Noël!”

Oh my god. Did this akuma just dab? Four times?!” Shut Up!. Me tOO NATHAN.

“It was the only time they kissed. Because then May happened. And that May may just have been the worst month of his life so far.” Last Christmas.

“Even then, he couldn’t find it in him to blame her. He couldn’t find it in him to hate her. He’d given her flowers, he’d painted a huge portrait of her, he’d given her his love and his time and his devotion and all of the passion he could muster in him and anyone else would see it as a waste, right, but he just couldn’t. Surely, she’d just been excited and hadn’t been expecting things to move so fast. Maybe he’d driven her off somehow? She was far more outgoing than he was, maybe his quiet nature was too restricting for her. But, whenever he looked at Marinette, it wasn’t hate or resent that he felt. Rather, something lost, something he’d been able to taste for a short moment before having it ripped away from him.” Last Christmas

“Is this what heartbreak felt like?” Hell if I know mate Last Christmas

“Ivan was bored out of his goddamn mind.

Fuck Ladybug. Fuck Chat Noir. Fuck da police. Fuck everybody.” The Disposables, Chapter 1. ME TOO IVAN

““I’m sorry, you need me to what?! ” Kingston Damocles’ jaw hung in shock at the preposterous request he had just been given.” The Disposables, Chapter 2. I’m sorry, this line isn’t even all that great, but whenever I think about how I named Mr. Damocles ‘Kingston’ first thing that comes to my mind is *voice in the distance* Sean Kingston. *heavy bass kicks in, shaking the room* Y’ALL WAY TOO BEAUUUUUUUUUUUTIFUL GIIIIIIIIIRL

“Finally, Max. Max was a genius. He was a living encyclopedia, a walking college math textbook, and a computer whiz. He could hack almost anything within minutes… when he felt like it.” TD, Chapter 2. ME TOO MAX.

““That’s like saying the manager of some bakery is fit to rule all of France! Which, by the way, they aren’t! And someone who already has experience should be leading a major operation, and someone who doesn’t should be, like, an intern or something! And, no, Chloe doesn’t count, she’s only been Bourgeois’ intern for two months and has done nothing but sit on her ass and sip on triple-macchiato lattes!” Max said.” The Disposables, Chapter 2. SLAY, MAX.

““You need to be debriefed, you don’t even know what we’re doing or what we know!”” TD, Chapter 2. GET HER, MAX.

27. best review you ever got

Gosh there’s several, hang on. Because I just LOVE getting reviews like they all make me so happy I like to just go back and read them over when I’m feeling down and need inspiration.

“This is seriously incredible like oh my gosh?!?! It's hard to find good Nathaniel centred story's such as this one!! Thank you so much for writing this and ahhhhhhhh!!!!!! Can't wait till the next update!!!!” Pandamonkey12 on AO3, Ain’t Clowning Around Chapter 2

“This is cool i hope a story like this becomes cannon” Saurka on AO3, Last Christmas

“Yes!!! I seriously love this story thank you so much for updating! You are incredible and I can't wait to see what will happen next! Seriously a great chapter!!!!!” Pandamonkey12 on AO3, Ain’t Clowning Around Chapter 4

“This is seriously incredible!! Like ahhhhhhhh!!!!! It's such a cool idea and I can't wait to see what happens next!!!!!!” Pandamonkey12 (Basically Panda Monkey is a great person) on AO3, The Living Nightmare Chapter 1

“https://deusbex.tumblr.com/post/156549006721/the-disposables Keep up the great work! I made you a cover!” DeusBex on AO3, The Disposables Chapter 1 (because HOLY SHIT THEY DREW ME A COVER?!?!?!)

“Ani, you amazing human, this is amazing and it's so well written that it leaves me craving more. I didn't know it would be this good when you brought it up in chat. Just beautiful.” @some-italian​ on AO3, The Disposables Chapter 1

“AAAHHHH! OMG this is so good! Seriously, keep up the amazing work!” VisualSnow on AO3, The Disposables Chapter 1

“IF YOU DO NOT CONTINUE THIS, I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND MAKE YOU. Also, Lol I am Hawkmoth is FREAKING adorable.” SHIPPERHELL on AO3, The Living Nightmare Chapter 3

“I was pleasantly surprised by Ivan having two fathers, which was a pretty good choice. Now Nath just needs to hunt Hawky down and punch him right in the jaw, right hook.” @some-italian​ on AO3, The Living Nightmare Chapter 3

“Wow, at a loss for words, I'm already hooked, so much emotion and sympathy towards him. Great work and have an awesome New Year!” SaturnNights on FF.net, The Living Nightmare Chapter 1

“Tryst me, I'm so far on the edge of my seat I'm nearly falling off! Can't wait to see how it all plays out!” MagicQuill42 on FF.net, The Disposables Chapter 2

Okay so there’s this one fanfiction user called Yellow14, and he comments on every chapter and at the end he always says ‘Keep Writing’ and that just encourages me so much so I started doing it too.

“Woah. I have to say I was not expecting this. It was so... Amazing! From my experience, it seems like you got the villain's personality right, and people actually trying to take selfies with him is pretty funny. Keep it up!” GravityFallsIsAmazing on FF.net, Casual Villainy, Chapter 1. because mischaracterization is the one thing I ALWAYS worry about no matter what, asides from story quality.

“this is totally wonderful and awesome, i couldnt help but smile reading your will definitely be a favourite of mine and others.” Chocolate-cream-pie on FF.net, A Darkened Soul, Chapter 4

Brokenwings35 commented on every single chapter of A Darkened Soul with “I loved the chapter” “Great chapter” and “Awesome chapter” and then on the last chapter said “This story is perfect” and thanks so much omg.

“I absolutely loved this story!” ishipit-myotp on FF.net, A Darkened Soul, Chapter 1. It’s simple, but it was the day after my birthday and I was feeling kind of down because i had the NHS induction ceremony that day. Which you think would be a good thing, except SO many people forgot it was my birthday because they were all focused on my grades and stuff. Including family members. Then we went to J. Alexanders to celebrate my induction/birthday, but I wasn’t particularly close to anyone there and everyone was like ‘happy birthday and congratulations on your accomplishments and your wonderful grades’ and it just kinda felt like nobody there cared about what I liked about me that was ME. It’s kinda stupid, but. Hey.

“Yay Nathaniel! Yay Adrienette! Yay EVERYBODY! This was such an amazing story! I'm glad you wrote it and put it on this site so we could all read it. We really need more authors like you.” GravityFallsIsAmazing on FF.net, A Darkened Soul, Chapter 4. The ‘we really need more authors like you’ part is what gets me because omg that makes me feel like I’m actually good like omg I only ever see those kinds of reviews on like Pilot’s stuff or like super popular fics so to get it on one of mine, let alone one I wrote in the middle of the night sustained by cold medicine?! Oh my god.

“"The world may never know." That moment when a fanfic author starts quoting the Tootsie Pop commercial” Shadow of the Elements on FF.net, Ain’t Clowning Around, Chapter 2. Because OMG SOMEONE CAUGHT ONE OF MY REFERENCES.

And at that note it’s now 12:46 and I have church in the morning I should have been asleep like 3 hours ago but whatevs. Goodnight