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greensaplinggrace · 4 years

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ok another clack fic cuz cloud whump is the best and there’s never enough, so “please don’t cry” and “don’t ever do that again” from prompt list where cloud is still emotionally inept but zack is always there to help him feel and comfort him🥰🥰

Soooo...this took a very dramatic turn and I’m sorry! I actually have another version of this fic more along the lines of what you asked for in the works, so if you want me to tag you when I post it I can totally do that XD. I’m sorry it took me so long to complete this prompt! Life has been a bitch and I didn’t want to force it, you know?

“Please don’t cry” / “Don’t ever do that again.” (From This Here Prompt List)

*TW for violence and minor emetophobia

-If you want to send in a prompt, the guidelines are HERE and HERE!

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Dusk has settled well over the city when the register rings shut for the final time that night. Sealing away the money he’d just counted should not be as satisfying as it is, but Cloud’s more than eager to end his shift. Eight hours is a misery but ten is exhausting, and every muscle in his body aches with the need for plush sheets and the warmth of his heating pad.

Today is Zack’s day off, which means he’s going to want to take the scenic route as he walks Cloud home, but there’s no way in hell Cloud is walking three miles today. He wants his binder off and his packing out. He doesn’t know why he’d thought packing on a busy Saturday was a good idea, but he’s starting to regret it.

Kicking the cup-holders into place, Cloud checks over the fridge and the oven before finally flicking off the last of the lights. There are some dishes still in the sink, but it’s only a couple of plates and a mug. Not enough to bother with, and hopefully not enough to piss Barret off come morning, though Cloud can never be too sure when it comes to the man.

Sometimes, he feels like Barret is warming up to him. Other times it’s like the man has an “I hate Cloud Strife” tattoo painted across his face. Cloud’s long since stopped trying to impress the guy in favor of actually being himself, and the recent response has been a whole bag of mixed signals. The only consolation is that he seems to hate Zack more. Which is why Zack has been permanently banned from visiting Cloud on morning shifts and instead been delegated to walking him home after closing. An entirely useless endeavor, considering Cloud can take care of himself, but Zack mostly does it to keep him company than out of some strange sense of duty, so he lets it slide.

A loud pounding on the door signals Zack’s arrival, and Cloud only makes another cursory sweep over the kiosk before hanging up his apron and grabbing his things from the back. As soon as he heads for the front door he sees Zack, face pressed to the glass and waving wildly, an eager smile splitting his face in two.

Warmth wells in Cloud's chest at the sight, along with a faint of tinge of exasperation at the other man's antics. He sighs and rolls his eyes enough for Zack to see it through the smudged windows, pushing the door open so hard it has him bouncing off the glass.

“Ow! Hey!” Zack huffs, rubbing at his nose with a pout, and Cloud casts him an unimpressed look.

“Tifa’s going to have your head for messing up her window.” The door shuts behind him with a bang, rattling against a gust of heavy wind, and Cloud burrows into his scarf with a shiver. He fumbles for the key with gloved fingers and uses his other hand to pull the scarf tighter, scowling into the soft fabric when Zack only grins.

“Don’t worry! She won’t ever know it was me.”

“Yes, she will.”

“Wh- how?! Nobody saw me.”

Cloud raises a brow at him before turning to the door, fighting with the lock for a good three seconds before it budges and clicks into place, and when he turns back around it’s to see an expression and complete and utter betrayal on Zack's face.

“You would tell her? About me, your own boyfriend? What happened to bros before hoes?”

“Tifa is my bro.”

“What, so does that mean I’m your hoe?”

Cloud’s lips twitch into a smile, and he hides his blush in the folds of his scarf as he grabs Zack’s hand and powers down the sidewalk. “Let’s go.”

“Yeesh! Calm the death grip, piña colada.”

“Absolutely not, Zack.”

“It’s a cute pet name.”

“It’s not a pet name at all.”

“Well, you’ve vetoed literally every real one in existence. I have to get creative.”

“There’s not a creative bone in your body, soldier.”

Zack tuts, tone suddenly serious in a way that has Cloud feeling guilty for snapping, and slows his walk drastically. He tugs at Cloud’s hand as he does so, and Cloud’s forced to either drop behind or risk losing him. Reluctantly, Cloud falls back. When he reaches Zack’s side, the other man is quick to give him a sideways look of concern. “You’re in a mood. Bad day at work?”

“It’s not a mood,” Cloud hisses, because the tension just won’t leave, heart pounding and ears ringing. Zack’s hand tightens around his for a while, thumb pressing into his palm until he’s gentling.

“I know,” Zack eventually says, “those were the wrong words. I’m sorry.”

Cloud glances away. “‘S fine.”

“Did something happen at work?”

“Just-” Cloud exhales loudly, pulling Zack closer as they turn a corner, “-long day. And a Saturday, so…”

“Your chest hurt?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay, then how about we talk about the awesome day I had at my work!” Cloud hums his assent, leaning into Zack all the way as he relaxes into the sound of Zack’s voice. “A vet came in for Collie today, and they were the perfect match. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a dog and a woman fall in love faster in my life. I mean, I’ll be sad to see her go, but she’s still got regular checkups for a bit, so I can spend some time with her for a little while longer. Not to mention Cissnei is an amazing person. I mean, she’s rough around the edges - sure - but who isn’t?”

“I have no idea who that is.”

“Oh! She’s the vet. Just came back from a real bad tour and she needed a trainer with good ethics - that’s me - so she dropped by and almost instantly bonded with Collie. It was so heartwarming. Wait, I’ve got a picture here…She wouldn’t let me take a video but...”

Zack trails off as he searches for his phone, and as much as Cloud loves hearing about Zack’s passions, he takes a relieved breath of fresh air at the break.

It’s quiet out. Cold and biting beneath a clear sky, and Cloud peers up to blink at the lack of stars and natural lighting. A thick glow isolates the moon above him, created by the ever present lights and sounds of the city, and he feels a longing pang for home. He tugs at Zack’s hand and leans even further into him, pressing his face against the warmth of Zack’s coat, and listens to the rising curses with a contented curl of amusement.

Maybe he won’t go straight to bed, after all.

Steps echoing down the abandoned inner roads, they turn another corner and start towards their apartments. He glances up at the other man through his lashes, reluctant to part completely and abandon Zack’s heat. Snuggling would be nice, he decides. Cradled in his boyfriend’s arms as they warm up beneath the covers. Maybe he could even convince Zack to give him a massage.

Cloud hums, opening his mouth to ask if Zack would like to stay the night, but before he can so much as get a word out a bruising grip wraps around his wrist. All thoughts of home are wiped clean from his mind as he’s ripped from Zack’s arm with a startled yelp. He twists and drives his head viciously backwards into his attacker’s nose, only managing to feel a brief sense of satisfaction at the ensuing snap and scream before hard metal collides with his head in an excruciating explosion of pain. He gasps and chokes out a cry, legs buckling as his mind splinters in agony.

“Cloud!” Zack’s voice rings painfully in his ears as his hand is wrenched to the other side of his chest, an arm encircling him and pulling him back into another body.

He flinches at the feeling of a cool metal circle coming to rest against the side of his head, whimpering as he’s shaken violently, head flaring enough to make his stomach lurch. “Zack.” His voice cracks on the word as he blinks stars from his eyes, Zack’s wide blue eyes coming into view before the pure, unadulterated horror of his expression does. Cloud’s stomach lurches again and he heaves, struggling weakly against his captor’s grip.

“Hey!” The gun digs painfully into his skin as the man shakes him again. “Quit your damn struggling before I decide you ain’t worth my time.”

“No! No- don’t-” Zack sounds on the edge of panic, and something somewhere in Cloud’s hazy mind tells him he should comfort the man, but no words can find his lips. “Don’t hurt him, please. What do you want? I’ll give- I’ll give you anything, just-”

“No…”

“I said shut the hell up! You think I’m joking?”

“He’s- he’s out of it, man. Come on. Just tell me what you want. Don’t- don’t shoot him, please. Is it money? I’ve- I don’t have a lot, but- but it’s all yours. All of it.”

Cloud whines out a protest, awareness trickling back slowly. Zack is strapped for cash right now. He wouldn’t survive dumping all of his money.

“Tell your bitch to shut the fuck up!”

“Hey, calm down man, okay? Here- here’s all of it just...” There’s a thump on the ground in front of them, and what ensues in the most excruciating and awkward bend in the history of Cloud’s life as the guy reaches for it, never once taking the gun from his head. Then there's a scoff, and Cloud knows - knows - what he’s going to say before the words even fall from his lips.

“You think this is enough? The hell do you take me for? Give me all of it!”

“That’s all I-”

“Does your boy have anything on him?” The man’s shaking now, voice wavering on the edge of hysteria, and the tremor of his gun has Cloud swallowing tears of fear. “‘Cause if he’s hiding nothin’-!”

“No, he’s fucking broke, just-”

“I saw you walkin’ along all comfortable! Give me your fucking phone and...and that necklace.”

Cloud’s stomach drops with the words, panic rising high and heedy in the back of his throat. The necklace - Angeal’s necklace. No way. No fucking way.

“Um...the- the necklace, right.” It’s weak and strained, Zack biting his lip to hold back tears, and something in Cloud’s heart breaks.

“Don’t. Zack, don’t-” his words are cut off in a cry of pain as the gun comes back down on his head again, and there’s piercing, splitting noise like gunfire that has Cloud jumping, bucking against his captor in pure terror as Zack yells.

“Holy shit. What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“I told him to stay fucking quiet! The next one goes through his head.” The grip tightens around Cloud until he can hardly move anymore, gasping for breath as the tears shake from his eyes. “Now give me the damn necklace. Now!”

“Okay..okay, I’m giving you the necklace.” Zack’s sounding really agitated now. In a different, very dangerous way that says he’s about to do something stupid, and the thump of Cloud's heart against his ribs is more deafening than the gunshot ever could be.

Zack is going to endanger himself. Zack is going to do something. Cloud’s mouth feels gummy but he can’t move and he can’t speak and his head feels like it’s on fire. Through the blur of his tears he sees Zack shift, hand coming up to his neck, and he feels his captor freeze against him.

“What are those?”

“They’re my tags, man. They’re...completely worthless.”

“You were in the army?”

“Special forces.” The hard edge to his tone is enough to chill even Cloud, who’s known Zack for years and who’s seen him smile like the very heart of the universe itself. For his captor, it seems to have an even worse effect. One of high, panicked breaths and the uneasy waiver of his gun.

Cloud sees Zack’s face harden before he charges. Sees him tense and move in the split second the gun is away from his head and it’s like the world comes crashing down around him. “Zack! Don’t-”

His voice breaks as he’s pushed aside, the breath forced from his lungs when he collides with the ground, head searing. A gunshot cracks through the air and there’s a shout, fists against flesh and another shot, this time with a scream, and Cloud tries desperately to push himself up and see what’s happening but the world spins sickeningly and he vomits onto the dirty concrete with a gut wrenching sob.

Then there’s silence. A loud thud that makes Cloud’s veins run cold and his stomach quiver again.

“Cloud.” A hand pushes through his hair, soft and gentle and Zack, and Cloud lets out a sob of relief. He collapses into Zack’s hold, shaking against his knees and encased in his arms, and claws desperately at the fabric of his pants. Burrowing his head into Zack’s thigh, Cloud sucks in a deep breath and exhales with the force of every line of tension wringing his energy dry.

“Zack,” he breathes, “Zack, you’re alive.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m so sorry, Cloud. I should never have let you get hurt like that, I- I- Hey…hey, please don’t cry.”

Cloud shakes his head and chokes out another sob, because God - God - he’d almost lost him. Almost lost Zack. And the tears won’t stop spilling from his eyes even as Zack runs a hand through his hair, up and down his back soothingly. Even as Zack curls around him like he’d never let Cloud go.

“You almost died- you almost-” and then there’s anger, stark and hot as he raises his wet face to glare at his stupid fucking boyfriend, “-don’t ever do that again.”

Zack smiles weakly, wiping at his own eyes with his shoulder, and the glint of his tags - the glint of Angeal’s necklace - makes Cloud’s shoulders seize again as a fresh wave of tears comes. He clenches his eyes to fight it and ducks his head down again, Zack’s words vibrating against his cheek as he speaks.

“I could say the same about you. Fuck, Cloud, I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my life.”

“I doubt it.”

“No, it’s true. It’s- It’s really, really true.”

Cloud lets that sink in for a second. “Oh.”

Zack cracks out a laugh, forced and loose and relieved all at once, and exhales as his shoulders droop with exhaustion. “Yeah, oh. Never again, Cloud.”

Cloud sighs and closes his eyes, letting the world take him.

“What about damsel in distress?”

Cloud opens his eyes again with the single minded purpose of burning a hole into Zack’s waist. “What do you think?”

“Eh…” Zack smiles nervously and scratches the back of his head. “Too feminine?”

“Too ridiculous.”

“I did just save your life.”

Cloud scoffs and doesn’t say anything for a while. Then, “you’re giving me a massage when we get back home.”

“Sweet Apple Pie, I’ll give you a thousand massages once we get back home. But we aren’t getting home until you’ve been to a hospital.”

“Ugh.” Cloud pulls a face, though for the pet name or the idea of a hospital, he doesn’t know.

Zack takes his response with the usual amount of grace. “You’re going to the hospital if I have to haul your ass there by the seat of your pants,” he huffs, “and I’ll call Tifa to make sure you don’t struggle.”

“We should probably call Tifa anyway.”

Zack sighs lengthily, petting a hand through Cloud’s hair as he tilts his head back to look at the sky, and Cloud relaxes into the touch with a pleased hum. There’s the occasional zing of pain when Zack skirts around the lumps on his head, but the pain fades into a dull background noise over time, as they sit and drift into the quiet of the night.

The ambulance arrives not two minutes later.

#clack #cloud strife #zack fair #ffvii #ff7 #remake #crisis core #fanfiction #whump #zakkura #hurt comfort #cloud strife needs a hug #promptfills #trans cloud strife

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blackfemmecharacterdependency · 4 years

Text

07. Attack in the Pumpkin Patch

AU Grace and Simon story. Takes place in the instance that they never got on the train, but crossed paths and became friends. Installments can be standalone pieces. Word Count: 3904 Trigger Warnings for this one include: racism, classism, and violence.

Simon arrived with a satchel and a big gym bag, but Grace was still asleep. He looked at her and the way that her makeup was a little smeared on her face, but she still looked so incredibly pretty that it just didn’t make any sense. The alarm on her phone went off while he was hovering and gawking. When her eyes opened, his eyes widened. She shut off the alarm and smiled sleepily at him, “You’re just in time for my wake up photo shoot,” she announced and handed him her phone.

“Your… what?”

They spent several minutes with her posing in various positions in the gown, in bed and getting up and heading for her lavatory. She let him know when it was the last one and said that she needed him to edit them and post them to her social media with the hashtags “iwokeuplikethis,” “belleoftheball,” “beautyrestchamp” and “apexbeauty." She also got him to tag everyone who had anything to do with her look the previous night with a cutesy apology that she delivered for him to type, calling out their names through the door while she washed her face and brushed her teeth, to his annoyance in trying to spell some of these people’s names or handles. He would have complained that he didn’t work for her, but Grace probably purposefully did this right now because she knew that he wasn’t going to interfere with her getting ready today.

The way that Grace simply tossed her gown onto the floor whenever she went to get ready, how she spent far more time than reasonable on her hair and hygiene, and then went through a tedious procedure to pick the perfect outfit was a level of blatant disregard that Simon was definitely used to. He brought along figures that he needed to work on and set up his workspace at her reading bench, with a drafting table that she let him stash in her huge closet, specifically for times like this.

Simon would focus enough on his hobby that Grace's dancing around her room in a tank and boy shorts was… ignorable, while not necessarily the easiest thing in the world to turn his attention from. If I don't look, I won't stare, he'd remind himself whenever he heard her say something, sing something or do something that might elicit a glance at any other time. "Aha!" She said, grabbing her fourth attempt at a shirt selection.

If he paid attention to her, she'd milk it. If he tried to rush her, she'd slow down. Simon didn't react at all and left her to her own devices, because he had known her long enough to know that anything else would keep them in this room longer than her typical antics. "Ppbbbbbbrrrrrrrrr!" She sputtered, looking in the full body mirror. Simon glanced up and winced, immediately regretting doing so, because not only was she still not dressed, she noticed him in the reflection and smiled. He put his head back down and began vigorously painting his figure. "Simon," she called, "You're doing okay waiting, right?"

"I am," he lied, but this time not looking up.

"Good. Because I think that none of this is working for me. It's chilly outside and I need a new fall wardrobe," she whined. "I should have gone shopping specifically for a pumpkin patch date outfit." Simon looked up at the mention of the word "date," but she had gone back into the closet and came out with an armful of clothes.

"That's it!" He said. He set his figures down to dry, slid from his seat and grabbed his new skateboard (same skateboard he stole the previous night, but now it was officially his). "We go to the pumpkin patch every year. It's not some kind of new event and I'm not waiting all day for you and missing out on stuff because you wanna be the fashionista of the pumpkin patch this year!"

She rolled her eyes and slowly sorted through the clothes. Simon paced for a moment, then he sat back down, like she knew he would. Go by himself? Somewhere that other people would be? Simon wasn't doing that. He hated other people. And doing stuff like this wasn't fun by himself - only with her. He fumed and asked, "Could you please hurry up?"

"I'm going as fast as fashion greatness will allow! Don't you WANT me to look good?"

Simon blushed and groaned, "I don't care how you look!"

"The cuter I am, the more free stuff they give us," she reminded him.

"I get free stuff all the time and I never have to be ‘cute’ to get it," he complained.

"Noted… but, I don't feel like robbing farmers and stuff. They're nice, good people just trying to sell their wares. Now, if they GIVE me their delicious treats, that's another story. A story that starts with how cute I am. Which one?" She asked about two sweaters. Simon looked between the two, selected one and she set it down to put on the other. Joke's on her. I picked the one I didn't like as much. I know exactly how she is. Which was moot because she looked good in anything.

It hugged her curves and fell just to her thighs and she gave herself a nod before grabbing her leggings. Simon sat by the window and looked out of it. Her locs were down again and she slid a tam hat over them and purposefully set the number of locs she wanted to hang out.

Nobody had brought up last night's kiss. He was awake all night thinking about it and what she meant by it. He’d stayed in the shower until the water was freezing, he’d laid down and stared at the ceiling, asking Samantha everything that he needed to know, “Was she just caught up in a moment? Does she actually like me? If she likes me, would she even really ever date me?...” Samantha eventually left him and he just thought more questions, vowing that the cat was a traitor that always left him whenever he needed her. She ran past his door and he jumped up. She ran the other way and he rolled his eyes and laid back down. Cats were weird… Like that kiss from Grace. Because, that was weird, right? They weren’t… like that. They were friends. The best of friends, but… friends, yeah?

He would ask her, but they didn't need to elongate her preparation time. He'd ask her at the pumpkin patch. Maybe over some pie and cider…

"All set!" She announced. “I look good, right?” He begrudgingly nodded. “Totally worth the wait!” She added. Now, he just threw her a look of disbelief and she smiled at him, already convinced that her look was worth the wait, whether or not he agreed. It wasn’t like they’d be late. He always arrived much too early to everywhere, including her place when she had to get ready.

Grace's driver dropped them off at the entrance and Grace let him know where and when to get her, many hours later and many miles away. She was on her third driver since her hair incident and this one she knew wouldn't last long, because he bothered her parents too much. The last one didn't touch base enough. The one before that didn't like Simon. She couldn't remember these days how she got rid of him, but not liking Simon was indeed a deal breaker for her. What if he’d told her parents about Simon? What if he’d said something that would prompt them to forbid her to see him? She didn’t think the guy would, but if he might, he had to go.

Whenever they went through the patch, she noted that Simon seemed deep in thought. "Dude, if you're thinking about student council or the cub scouts or something nerdy or pretentious, like war reenactment or your engineering grade; I'm un-dating you today."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "We were cub scouts as little kids. It's just called a scout, now."

"That's all he heard," she said, shaking her head.

"I heard you," he said, rolling his eyes. "Addressing it seemed non-essential. All you did was make a list and throw it at me. You're not leaving me at the pumpkin patch. We do the pumpkin patch every year."

"You're just really not gonna tell me what's on your mind, then."

He opened his mouth, shut it, tilted his head in thought and said, "Last night."

"Last night? Last night was amazing! How can you think about last night and make this face?" She imitated his face but totally exaggerated it to be far more sullen than he knew he looked. He was troubled, but not like THAT. "This is the face I make when I think about last night." She smiled as big as she could smile and pointed to her smile with both of her thumbs. He couldn’t help but to laugh. “You’ve got it, now.”

He stopped laughing and sighed, back to his broody self. “Simon, listen to me. As far as the time we spent together, as far as I’m concerned, last night was THE BEST NIGHT that we’ve ever had!” He nodded his head in agreement. “So, don’t stress yourself out. Be thankful that what started as a really crappy night, thanks to Mom, ended on such a high note!” He blushed.

A high note. They ended the night kissing. It was small, but there was no such thing as a small kiss as a teenager with precisely one friend. She tucked her arm into his. This wasn’t necessarily new, but it felt so different to him now. It felt more romantic. It felt more emotional. He looked at Grace’s smiling face and she looked exactly the same as she always had, but she somehow looked totally different, like he was looking at her with somebody else’s eyes now… somebody in love with her and not just loving her as a friend. Oh God! Was he… in LOVE with Grace? Was that why he was so preoccupied with what that kiss meant? He’d presumed he just wanted clarity of her intentions, as to not taint the friendship or make things incomprehensible, but… He was feeling love feelings!

Within moments, she broke the physical connection and he immediately craved it, but she was rushing towards the line for a hayride, doing a jazz run and chanting, “HAYRIDE, HAYRIDE!” with her fist in the air. He laughed and followed, just running like a regular person, not some kind of pumpkin patch fairy, but also cheering, “HAYRIDE, HAYRIDE!”

Later on, she got a phone call, while she was trying to stuff a handful of popcorn into Simon’s mouth, despite him playfully shoving her away. They both knew he wanted to eat out of her hand. She placed a single finger up to indicate “wait,” tossed the popcorn at his face and only a few pieces went in, while the rest slapped various parts of him. He dusted himself off while she looked at the phone, hesitant. He was going to ask who it was, but she answered, “Hi, Mom?”

She listened for a moment, then her charming voice kicked in, explaining, “Sorry about the gown, I went to this exclusive after party with the best of company and… Oh! Of course you don’t care… Sorry I. Yes mother. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. Oh?” She was listening for a little while longer, then said, “Well, I have plans with Sim… uh… some friend…” Simon heard it and instantly turned red, staring at the ground with a dejected glare. “Yes, of course, I’ll be there. Yes. Thank you. I appreciate everything that you do for me.” She hung up and put her phone away, instantly noticing Simon’s change in mood.

“After meeting her, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that that’s the way that you sign off of a phone call with her,” he said, shoving the bag of popcorn her way.

“So, good news!” She cheered, not addressing his comment, but accepting the bag of popcorn.

He looked up and she just KNEW, he was not about to let this go easily. She tried to graze over it anyway. “My mom was just setting up this video chat interview for me for later on…" He raised an eyebrow. "Apparently someone contacted her about the pics you posted this morning, and I just might become a brand ambassador for this holistic health and beauty company to tap into the teen market!" She was extremely excited for a moment, then her excitement died. "But that's stupid. It's skin and hair and makeup and fashion… Like, I'm a dancer? I'm a musician…" his face hadn't changed. "Sorry about the uh, the other thing. It's just… I mean, you've met her now. You can see how she'll act towards you…"

"So, I'm supposed to not feel it whenever you throw me under the bus to save face in front of your mom?"

"I mean… she's not important, to us, Simon. How I have to communicate with her is fake. You shouldn’t feel it. Don't worry about it." She flicked his little ponytail with her fingertips and watched him blush, but he was still glaring at her. She handed the bag of popcorn to some kid passing, and reached under Simon’s hoodie.

“What are you?...” He didn’t get to finish asking, and his widened eyes shut, though he was just as red from her reaching under as he was from her tickling him. “STOP! THAT’S NOT FUNNY, GRAAAAAYYYYEEECE!” She stopped and he fumed for a quick second, then rushed at her and began to tickle her back. She tried to jump over a pumpkin to begin running but he caught her mid jump and declared, “Tickle fight!” She squealed and laughed and fell back onto him and they both crashed to the ground. He groaned and she continued laughing.

“Are you okay?”

“She asked, after laughing very vigorously at my pain.” She got up and held a hand out to help him up. He rubbed his back. “Who’d have thought that a tickle fight could get so rough?” They laughed and continued.

Even later still, Simon was in line for pie, Grace was going to get the hot cider, and they were gonna meet up to have their picnic before selecting pumpkins. She went along, humming to herself and lightly dancing towards the line whenever she bumped into someone. “My bad,” she said, with a smile.

“Is that supposed to be an apology?” He asked, roughly. She glanced around, noting that Simon was out of eye shot, and decided not to escalate, because of it. It was a big guy, older than her. She’d venture to say this was actually a grown man by his features, and he looked like two things - like one of those dudes that flew a Confederate flag from his truck, and also like he had a gun on him.

“I apologize,” she said through smiling teeth. She turned to leave and he mumbled a word at her. She still heard him clearly. Her eyes stung and she turned to glare at him, but he simply gave her a daring smirk until she left.

Shaken up and angry, she got into the line and ordered drinks and a cup holder. She traveled back over to meet Simon, who was setting down stuff for a little picnic, but she shook her head and reached into the bag for her mask. He became alert almost immediately as she took off her sweater. “What happened?” he wondered. This was the pumpkin patch. They kind of were known here and the way that she looked, her mask wasn’t going to hide her identity today. She shook her head, angry and ready to fight as she put the mask on and picked up two of the four ciders.

Simon had just realized that there were four ciders. She had her mask… those two ciders were weapons in her hands “Grace, your interview!” She was breathing hard when she stopped and looked at him. "Don't let someone take that away from you." He walked over to her slowly, removed the mask and took the ciders. “Tell me what happened.”

Breathing hard, she repeated the story for him and he nodded his head. She could tell that he was livid, even though he seemed to be keeping his cool. She got back into her sweater, now that she wasn’t fuming, the undershirt was nothing for this wind. “Where is he?” Simon wondered, with eyes darting around the area. She described the guy, but she didn’t see him around or anything. They sat in silence. She didn’t seem hungry anymore and Simon couldn’t enjoy himself with her like this. “Wanna go?” He asked.

“I’m Grace Monroe,” she said. “I mean… He was some null who probably barely scrapes by for a living, and he calls ME the N word?” She shook her head, “I’ve gotta get away from here. I don’t even feel comfortable here right now.” Simon nodded and packed up his bag. He handed her a leftover cider and she accepted it, but wasn’t drinking it.

He couldn’t ask her more about the kiss and he felt kinda bad that he was even thinking about that while she was going through… something. He couldn’t really tell what she was going through. He only understood this experience in passing and from reading about it. It wasn’t really something applicable to his life, but he was guessing from her reaction that she had not had the experience herself, or she just didn’t often and it shocked her system or something. If she had ever been called that before, she'd never told him about it. She was really… upset. He hated how much. He knew that she would feel weak for it. It hurt him to watch.

They walked for a little bit longer, heading towards the exit when she stopped and narrowed her eyes. Simon looked at somebody who fit the description of the person she described earlier. He was larger than she made him seem, and he just looked extremely mean and probably violent.

Simon passed her up, slid the cider out of her hand and beat her to the punch… or rather, the splash. Simon was so quick the man didn't know he was coming at him until the cider was in his eyes. Dude went down. Simon swung his skateboard at him and hit him with it. Grace looked around, making sure nobody saw him and picked up the bag that Simon dropped.

Nobody seemed to notice them yet, but the guy was screaming, although, she was sure that the cider had cooled down a lot, maybe it was Simon cracking his head with that skateboard. Simon slammed the butt of it into his throat and he started coughing and gagging, but he wasn’t screaming anymore. “We gotta go, Gray Eyes,” she said. Simon nodded once, reached for her hand and she took his, smiling triumphantly as they took off running. They made it far enough away to feel okay pausing and she laughed. “Oh my god, I know you like SERIOUSLY hurt that guy!”

Simon held out his hand, smiling, “And I got you a gift.” It was a lighter. He put it in her hand and closed her hand around it.

"Are you alright though?" She wondered, not smiling now. Simon had been vicious. She had definitely seen him mad before, but this was the most aggressive that she could remember him being and she wondered if… if it wasn't something else.

“I’m never gonna let anybody get away with making you feel bad like that. I've never seen you so upset and helpless. It was like he'd taken your power, and I had to be the one to get it back. You have too much going for you. If somebody noticed you... I don’t know what I’d do if you got into trouble.” It was partially that, partially he felt protective and possessive of her, partially he wanted her to look at him exactly the way she was right now… like he was her king.

“You’re the best friend that anybody could have… You… I’m gonna bring you home to my mom and dad. I’m gonna present you and I’m gonna DEMAND that they treat you with kindness and respect.”

He held out his hand for hers again and she took it, and leaned in closely to him. “I don’t… know if… I want to be your friend…” Simon said.

She frowned and nodded her head. “I definitely get that feeling… But… I think we should. I mean… I think we work really well like we are, and that we shouldn’t mess that up. People turn into boyfriend and girlfriend, then when something bad happens, they hate each other. I can’t have my one person hate me. That would hurt me more than getting caught burning some null.”

His face went through a range of emotions that she wasn’t looking at. She was avoiding seeing his face at the moment. “Are you sure it’s just that?”

“What do you mean?” She asked and stopped walking.

“The way you talked about that racist null… Like he should’ve known better because you’re rich and he’s not. It's the way that the rich kids at the academy talk about me."

“Oh.” She shook her head, “Whenever I say stuff like that, I don’t mean YOU, ever. You were right when you said you deserve to be one of the elites. It’s not your fault that your parents don’t have as much as some of ours, just like there’s nothing I’ve done to deserve it. But, you should know that whatever is mine, anything that I have power over is yours, too, Simon. Anything that I get, I split with you, always. You’re my other half.” She intertwined their fingers and he squeezed them together. He smiled at their hands, but her face suddenly changed to one of... contempt.

She knew that something was bothering him at school, but every time she asked him about it, he’d tell her that everything was fine and that he was glad that she was happy. She should have known that people where being mean to him. They were all just fancily built nulls, flagrantly trying to assert their dominance. Well, not over her Simon. Not on her watch. “Why aren’t we RUNNING the Academy, by now?” She asked him, flustered with thoughts of the past few months being hard on him and her... not even noticing...

“Because you’ve been playing nice and being everyone’s friend instead of showing them who you are and using them like stepping stones,” he said with a shrug. "You’ve hidden your power every time we step on campus."

“Yeah… I’m not doing that anymore. They're not gonna disrespect you as long as I exist. The Apex is taking over the Academy.” He smirked at her and she smirked back. Maybe he didn't need to have her romantically. She had a point - they were still a team, even without a title or the responsibility of romance… no, not just a team… she’d said before, and even tonight that he was "her other half."

They were one.

#If They Didn't Get on the Train #AU Infinity Train #Infinity Train #Nesha Fanfiction #Infinity Train Fanfiction #fics #Attack in the Pumpkin Patch

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manchurian-barnes · 6 years

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The Soldier - Part Four

A/N - Im going to be taking a break from this series, mainly because i want to write the full thing before posting more parts of it, so it doesn’t feel rushed and I get he chance to fully explain upcoming plot points. OTHER FAN-FICTION WILL CONTINUE

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

It was mid-November the next time I encountered the new and improved Steve Rogers again. Since everything that had happened in Erskine's lab him and I had kept a line of communication open, letters being sent back and fourth. My work with Howard found us going between home and the war zones, creating weaponry and trying to play a role in victory against the Nazi's. Today that work had brought me to Italy, 5 miles back from the front line.

I watched from the back of all the beat up soldiers, arms crossed over myself. The rain hitting lightly onto my coat which I kept tightening around myself. Music started and dancers moved out onto a makeshift stage, before long 'Captain America' walked out. I forced a smile onto my features despite the dreary conditions. Once Steve began to speak to the men it wasn’t long before they started to heckle him for all the laughter he was worth.

"How many of you are ready to help me sock old Adolf in the jaw?" Steve spoke, cheerfully as he could brandishing he shield in front of himself, he looked to me and then over the men who stayed silent. Eerily silent. Steve then shifted on his feet, "okay, uh…I need a volunteer?"

The men started to groan and one waved his hand "I already volunteered, how to ya' think I got here!", as all the men began to laugh harder at Steve I tightened my grip around my coat, and began to move towards the back of the stage. "Bring back the girls!" they men yelled as I walked, spying Peggy out the side of my eye. "I think they only know the one song…but…I'll see what I can do?" He began to back off the stage. I pulled my eyes away as one soldier began to moon Steve, vulgar.

"I hate seeing him like this-" I spoke softly to Peggy as we looked for Steve, "as do I, but we are hardly in a position to do very much about it I'm afraid." he rest her hand on my shoulder. She walked just ahead of me before we saw him, slumped over and drawing into a sketchpad letting the rain drown him.

"Hello Steve." Peggy said warmly, he looked between us, "hi…" He said slowly. Giving a helpless smile. "what are you two doin' here?" He moved to allow Peggy to sit beside him. "Officially? Neither of us are here at all." Peggy grinned slightly. I kept nodding, "I decided I wanted to catch up with you Rogers." I spoke gently and then moved to be on the other side of him.

"I understand you’re "America’s New Hope"?" Peggy kept speaking as my eyeline trailed off into the crowd of soldiers. I wondered if Bucky was somewhere like this. I just wish I knew something. Something more than nothing at all.

"You know for the longest time I dreamed about coming overseas and being on the front lines. Serving my country. I finally get everything I wanted, and I’m wearing tights." Steve spoke as an ambulance went by carrying wounded men, "They look like they’ve been through hell.".

"These men more than most. Schmidt sent out a force to Azzano. Two hundred men went up against him and less than fifty returned. Your audience contained what was left of the one-oh-seventh. The rest were killed or captured." Peggy nodded and I saw Steve's demeanor shift completely. "One-oh-seven?" he said, voice breaking. "yes-" she nodded before I felt my blood run a little colder, "That was Bucky's-" I whispered looking down. Steve grabbed my arm and pulled me across the camp with Peggy running closely behind us.

We burst into Colonel Phillips tent, he grimaced as he saw the three of us. Especially lingering that gaze onto Steve. I ducked my head down as he let out a chuckle. "well if it isn't the star spangled man with a plan, what is your plan today?" he said coolly. Steve just ignored this, he kept his head straight I could tell he as holding back a lot of pain. "I need the casualty list from Azzano." he spoke surely, like he was in charge, by the look on Phillips face and by the way his jaw constricted I could see he didn’t care for that tone of voice. "You don't get to give me orders, son." he pointed at Steve. Steve shook his head and continued "I just need one name. Sargent-", "James Barnes, from the hundred and seventh." I finished for him. The colonel pointed to Peggy and I, "You two and I are going to have a conversation later that you wont enjoy.".

I clenched my jaw and looked at Peggy, she slung an arm around me. Silent reassurance. "please-" I whispered to the man, "Please tell me if he's alive, sir. B-A-R…" Steve started, I felt his hand on my shoulder as well. Again, the older man began to grit his teeth, "I can spell.". He began to shift thought all the letters he'd written. I felt sick. All those poor men, their families left behind. I just prayed silently, 'not James…not my James…' I kept repeating the mantra until my thoughts were cut by a knife. "I've signed more of these letters than I would care to count, but the name does sound familiar. I'm sorry." Phillips looked between us, and for a moment there was a hint of a softness within his eyes. I couldn’t help the whimper that escaped from my mouth, before I could cover it. I suddenly understood more about war than I had ever cared to, because war wouldn’t discriminate based on my hopes. It took, and it took. I stumbled backwards as Steve began to argue about how best to save the captured men, walking out into the rain. letting it hit me, trying to numb myself. I shut my eyes and suppressed how much I desperately wanted to scream. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and turned to see Peggy “Come on, we are going to follow our captain and save those men.”.

I called for Howard whom at the sound of my broken down voice jumped at his chance to come and help us all. We were in the back of one of his finest planes. Quickly approaching enemy lines. Even when I tried to focus I couldn’t. The plane rocking from a shot below shook me out of my grief stricken haze, looking at Steve. “You’re sure you want to do this?” I asked him, he nodded “If nobody else will...I have to save those men.”.

“This is your transponder. Activate it when you’re ready and the signal will lead us straight to you.” Peggy explained holding one of Stark and I’s inventions forwards. Steve tucked it into his jacket, looking between us. “Are you sure this thing works?” He asked me, with a slight chuckle referring to the night I’d met him, “It’s been tested more than you, pal.” Howard called with a laugh.

The plan started to shake more violently, causing me to stand and look out the window, we were almost there. I looked over my shoulder to see Steve opening the plane door, giving him a face i’d imagined he’s received many times from... “Get back here! We’re taking you all the way in.” Peggy yelled before being cut off. Steve yelling back, “As soon as I’m free, you turn this thing around and get the hell outta here!”

“You can’t give me orders!”

“The hell I can’t! I’m a Captain!” He then jumped. Howard sharply turned the plane despite himself, and despite Peggy yells to turn back.

Peggy and I were stood side by side back at the camp. being reprimanded for careless and defiant actions. Col. Phillips looked down, pacing slightly as he spoke out a letter “Senator Brandt, I regret to report that Captain Steven G. Rogers went missing behind enemy lines on the third. Aerial reconnaissance has proven unfruitful. As a result, I must declare Captain Rogers killed in action. Period.”, I began to shake my head slightly. I had more faith in Steve than this. “The last surveillance flight is back. No sign of activity.” Peggy spoke after the moment of silence, Phillips grimaced again “Go get a cup of coffee, Corporal,” He indicated to the man typing of the letter, who quickly ran off, “I can’t touch Stark. He’s rich and he’s the Army’s number one weapons contractor. You two are neither one.”

“With respect, sir, I don’t regret my actions. And I don’t think Captain Rogers did either.” Peggy kept her chin up, Phillips opened his mouth to speak before darlingly I interrupted, “And sir, technically I aid Mr Stark in designing the weapons, i’m his partner. The Army needs me.”. Out the corner of my eye I could see Peggy smirking ever so slightly. “What makes you think I give a damn about your opinions. I took a chance with you, Agent Carter. And now America’s golden boy and a lot of other good men are dead, cause you had a crush.” The man’s voice was stern making us both flinch a little.

“It wasn’t that. I had faith.”

Soldiers began to run past our tent again, yelling excitedly. “What the hell’s going on out there?” Phillips began I never heard the rest of his sentence as I ran outwards, seeing Steve with all the men, walking back into camp. I began to jump up and down with some of the men, “You did it!” I yelled to Steve who nodded proudly. “You’re late.” Peggy walked beside me, grinning at him, Steve reached into his jacket and pulled out my transponder, shot through “Couldn’t call my ride.” I laughed and rolled my eyes, looked around slightly. Everything suddenly stopped as I heard a voice yell “Hey! Let’s hear it for Captain America.”.

“James?” I yelled, before I felt my arm getting tugged on, turning to see him meeting his beautiful eyes once again. “James?” I whispered to him before he pulled me closer, kissing me as if he had been starved of me. “Im here-” He told me putting his hands on my waist, I grabbed at his collar “You’re alive?” I asked, eyes welling of happiness. He kissed me again, and again before telling me “You aren’t gonna get rid of me that easily.”

Tag List - (just ask, and you will be added!)

@nevaeh-potter15 @itskatt- @curlyquico @absentgrey @littlewriter55 @gowritingpage @amazingficsthatididnotwrite @culinarycrystals@immajustread @the-criminal-soldier @supernaturallover2002

#mcu #marvel imagines #marvel masterlist #marvel fanfiction #james barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes x reader #james barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagines #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #Sebastian Stan #sebastain stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine

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my-emotional-self · 7 years

Text

Let Me Protect You Chapter 9/?

Pairings: Chris Evans x OFC Emilia

Word Count: 1,304

Warnings: Swearing, self-loathing

Rating: PG-13

Summary: After Emilia’s fiancé cheats on her, she moves to California to live with her brother Eric, who just so happens to be good friends with Chris Evans. Follow Emilia and her roller coaster life through heartbreak, love, and emotional trauma. Will Emilia choose to let Chris into her heart, or will she remain broken and alone forever?

A/N: This is the calm before the storm you guys. Chapter 10 and Chapter 11 are going to be pure angst. I am going to make you guys FEEL!!!! Enjoy lovelies!!

Things were going great for you, for once in your life. While being around Chris made you vulnerable (you just still couldn’t understand how your walls came down when he was around), your emotions and feelings didn’t feel as heightened. At least not the sadness, anger, grief, or embarrassment which you felt on a regular basis. No, the feelings and emotions you were now feeling were those of happiness, joy, and peace.

It was amazing to feel this way, but at the same time, you didn’t know if it would last. Maybe the second you and Chris get really comfortable around each other, the negative emotions would start to make an appearance. You really hoped they wouldn’t though. That was how you lost a lot of friends; they couldn’t keep up with your ever changing moods.

It had been a week since Eric left, and so far so good. You saw Chris almost on a daily basis. He would either come over to your house, and you would watch movies and chat for hours on end. The conversation flowing easily as if you two had known each other for years.

The flirting between the two of you was still going strong too. That man knew how to make your heart skip a beat or two. He also knew what to say to make you blush like a little girl. The small touching gestures he always gave you made your knees go weak. The way he placed his hand on the small of your back, resting his hand over your knee while watching a movie; it made you flustered in such a good way.

You felt like you were maybe ready to talk to him about taking the next step. Sure, it’s been a week, but you wanted to listen to your heart on this one. You wanted someone to protect you, to cherish you. You haven’t felt that way in so forever; you longed to feel that way.

When you weren’t with Chris, you were always thinking about him. It seemed as if you were a school girl, falling for your crush. But this felt so much more than that. This was starting to feel more right, and less wrong.

Chris had an interview and photoshoot tomorrow, so you planned on driving around parts of LA to try and get more acquainted with the city.

Deciding you had a rather big eventful day ahead of you tomorrow (mainly getting lost and trying to find your way back home) you started getting ready for bed.

Heading into your bathroom, you turn your shower on and let it get to the right temperature before you stripped your clothes and stepped in. You stood there, letting the water cascade down your body, feeling completely relaxed.

Grabbing your shower wash, you happen to notice the scabs on your left wrist have almost all fallen off. You felt proud of yourself for going a week without cutting. It doesn’t seem like much, but a week can be a mile-stone for you.

Once you’re all squeaky clean, you dry off with your towel and throw your fuzzy robe around you. Nestled within the confines of your fuzzy robe, you let out a sigh of content.

Making your way to your bedroom, you turn on the television for some background noise, and drift into a peaceful sleep.

The near constant chirping of birds wakes you early the next morning. Looking at the clock you see it’s 9 in the morning. Groaning, you roll your face back into the pillow and yell “NO! It’s too early!!”

You’re a night owl, staying up until well 3 in the morning on most days. Grumbling, you almost half-fall, half-stumble out of bed and relieve yourself of your morning duties in the bathroom.

As you reach for your phone, you notice you have a few missed texts. You open up Eric’s text and instantly laugh seeing the picture he sent you. Eric was taking a selfie of him fake crying with Frank giving off a devilish grin in the background.

Eric: Emilia!! Save me from Frank!!! He’s being a slave driver.

Deciding to respond, you hit reply.

Emilia: Sorry bro, you took that job, I’m staying out of it. But say hi to Frank for me J

The next text few texts were from Chris.

Chris: Good morning sleepyhead! I’m off to my photo shoot and interview but you’re probably still sleeping. Slacker ;)

He also sent you a selfie. It was a picture of him in his car, sunglasses down towards the end of his nose so you can see his eyes and hair all disheveled as if he just woke up. He captioned it with “how do I look?” You looked at the time when he sent the photo and the bed head makes sense. It was from 6:15am.

You wander to your living room and plop down on the couch and decide to go through your social media. While you’re scrolling through Twitter, you see a news article about Chris. Not thinking anything of it, you open the story to read it and are horrified by what you see.

Minka and Chris, sitting in his car, both smiling; the headline reading “Are Chris and Minka Back On? It Sure Looks That Way!” You looked at the date of the story, and sure enough, it was posted an hour ago. Sure, the logical thing would be that the story is false; the picture is from when they dated many years ago. But you knew different. Not only was he wearing the same shirt from the picture he sent you this morning, he was wearing one of your bracelets he took from you a couple days ago.

He had questioned why you wore so many bracelets around your wrists. Not wanting to give anything as to why you did; you took off one of yours and handed it to him. “Here”, you said, “now I have one less for you to complain about.” It was a simple black jelly bracelet; the kind that was all the rage in the early 2000’s. You had a ton of them saved up because of your secret; you didn’t actually think he would constantly wear it, but he did.

Looking back over the photo of Chris and Minka, your heart started racing. How could you be SO stupid?!?! How could you ever think for one second that someone like Chris Evans was truly genuine with wanting a relationship with you? You were an idiot and you knew it. You knew you should have tried harder to hold your walls up around him; to not trust him so easily. It always backfired and this is another way of proving that. Nobody wanted someone who was broken; who was depressed and sad; nobody wanted you.

Your eyes stung with the tears pooling around your irises. Clenching your eyes tight, they spilt over. It was getting harder to breathe with each breath you took. Your heart was clenching tight, the lump in your throat making it difficult to swallow.

Why did these things always have to happen to you? You tried so hard to make people happy; so why were you getting shit on all the time? You were a good person, at least to other people. You were only bad to yourself. Is that why this was all happening to you? Because you were a bad person to yourself?

You don’t know how long you sat there, zoned out in your own world. Looking down at your phone, you notice the blue light blinking, indicating you have either a missed call or text.

Unlocking your phone, your hands tremble once you see who texted you.

Charlie: I miss you Emilia, please come home. I’m begging you. Let’s talk this over. Please.

Tag List: @evansfanficweekly @ssweet-empowerment @always-an-evans-addict @patzammit @tacohead13 @iamwarrenspeace

#chris evans #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x reader #chris evans x ofc #chris evans imagine #marvel imagine #steve rogers #captain america

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