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anastasiaskarsgard · 3 years

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A/n;So someone asked for smut for the perfect girl that decides she’s gonna have some fun before she dies. I’m A bit rusty. TW: sex, cursing, choking, 18+ NSFW

If you wanna read the first part it’s called perfect problem and is the last thing I wrote on here and posted...

“So where are we going?” Bethany asked as they got into some ridiculously expensive sports car. Adjusting her clothing and hair, she glanced over at Roman to find him just watching her.

Smirking his signature smirk, he turned the car on and raced out of the parking lot like he has stolen the car. “It’s a surprise.” Roman said, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

“Eyes on the road Speed Racer! Ok well at least tell me what we are going to go do.” She whined.

“Nope. No can do princess. You’re just going to have to have a little faith.” He grinned.

“Your reputation doesn’t exactly inspire trust. No offense.” She felt bad as soon as she looked over. He looked almost sad. “I’m just giving you a hard time. I’m not serious.” She lied.

“I thought you were supposed to be smart...”

“Oh ho ho! Someone bounces back quick.”she jibed as she turned to look out the window. She wasn’t exactly familiar with the area so she wasn’t sure what she was looking for. There was trees, and then some houses, and then businesses so there’s no way to tell if they were going somewhere Residential or commercial.

Grabbing her phone to send out some emails, she wasn’t paying attention when she noticed the car had stopped. Looking up from her phone she made an incredulous face at Roman when she noticed that they were in front of a large mansion.

“Really?” She quipped.

“Hey Before you jump to conclusions, I’m just coming here to get into some more comfortable clothes. I can’t exactly have fun in a suit, now can I?” He got out of the car and walked around it to open her door. “You can look around or grab a drink or whatever you like while I change.”

Stepping out of The car, Bethany followed roman inside his home. “ not even gonna try that old give me a tour excuse?”

Scoffing, he shook his head no, and made a crossing motion over his heart. “Scouts honor.”

“What if that’s exactly what I wanted to do?” She breathed out as she made her best attempt at sexy. Licking her lips, and winking, she nearly cried out when all of a sudden he was only inches away from her. “You’re very fast. I hope that’s not true for everything though.”

Smirking, he lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Pulling back to look at his face, she bit her bottom lip thoughtfully, as he walked them up to his room. Seeing the insecurity creeping in, He kept an eye open to watch where he was going but smashed his mouth back into hers, in a passionate, breathtaking kiss. Completely losing herself, she was startled when he dropped her on the bed and crawled over her body, pressing himself into her, making his intentions clear.

Sitting up as he straddled her waist, he ripped his shirt off, sending buttons flying, before aggressively attacking her mouth once more. Her nails dug into his bare back and he groaned into her mouth, before kissing down her neck and onto her chest.

Abruptly, he jumped off her and stood over her a moment longer than she assumed it took to take off his pants, so she lifted her head, cocking a brow at him curiously.

“Dress off.” He ordered, his smile fading.

Smiling a Cheshire grin, she shook her head no and looked up at the ceiling. Not letting curiosity get the best of her, she refused to look at him when he huffed impatiently. Even when he had stormed out of the room, and returned a few minutes later, looming over her, she refused to award his bratty behavior.

“Please take your dress off.” He finally bit out.

For a moment She pondered denying him-- and in turn denying herself. But the fact remained, she wanted him, whether contrived or genuine, She did. And She was done not doing what She wanted.

“Stand up.” His voice shocked her out of her head and She found herself standing at the side of the bed. “Good girl.” He purred, his hand brushing her back as he walked behind her and She shivered, as she turned her head to look at him. “Head forward.”

She did so, waiting for him to come back into view and see how far he’d take this little game. When she heard the bed sheets move, she fought the urge to turn around until She felt his fingers on her back, drawing letters or shapes; she wasn’t sure. Roman hummed quietly, lulling her into a peaceful calm, when suddenly he pulled her back into him. He was sitting on the bed, his long legs slightly spread and he spun her around, and placed her straddling over his one naked leg. Somewhere, somehow He’d removed his pants.

Gently he traced up her chest and wrapped one hand in her hair, pulling her forward so he could kiss her neck. Surprisingly, he bit her ... hard. Instead of pain, her senses exploded, causing her to moan wantonly, as she ground her core against his bare thigh.

When his other hand slid down her stomach, She Was almost embarrassed by how wet she had become.

“Stay still…” He said playfully in her ear as he slipped his fingers past the lace covering his goal. Plunging them within her, coating his fingers with her wetness, He gazed into her eyes lustily, as he Brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean. “So ready for me.”

She nodded dumbly, lost in the sinful way his tongue worked around his fingers. Biting her lip, she must of looked pitiful, because Roman dropped character a moment to chuckle and move a piece of hair behind her ear affectionately. Almost lovingly.

Unfortunately she was way too far gone to contemplate what these gestures might mean. She wanted to fuck and she wanted those fingers to go back down there, but this was Roman Godfrey. The man Was unpredictable at best, and uncooperative the rest of the time.

Roman was a predator, and predators like to chase. As much as she wanted to just throw herself at him and demand to fuck her into oblivion, she Still had enough pride to play the game.

“I knew I was right.” He growled, Standing, releasing her hair, so he could wrap his hand around her throat. She grinned, not really caring what he meant. “Now, Im going to fuck you. I’m not going to be gentle, but I’m going to make sure you come so hard that you forget your fucking name.” He smirked cockily, still holding her by the throat. “I can see it in your eyes, that you’re a fucking freak under all that polite perfection. You’ve never fucked up or disappointed anyone ever. You’re loved and respected. Americas sweetheart.... I wonder what they’d all say if they saw you right now, ready to be my little fuck doll, cuz that’s exactly what you are.” Two of his fingers dragged across her cheek, Forcing their way in her mouth. She could taste herself on him and it made her nearly mad with need. She’d never been this turned on in her life. “You have the most perfect lips.” He said as he examined the way they wrapped around his fingers, “I’m going to put so many things in your mouth.”

She sucked briefly, before humming around his digits, lightly biting them. Swiftly, he removed them for a moment, before getting a mischievous look on his face and shoving them in as deep as he could, choking her slightly. Slightly panicked, she reached for his hand, but he just tsked and Tightened his grip on her throat, before ripping his fingers out of her mouth and plunging his tongue in their place.

She really needed to breathe, but eventhough she could feel her limbs growing weak, She didn’t fight him. Completely surrendering to the most arousing experience in her life.

“That’s why I’m going to keep you.” Before She could comment or recover, he removed her dress and threw her down on the bed, standing over her a moment to look her over.

He yanked her underwear down and dove two fingers into her roughly, making her arch her back. His expert fingers were moving faster and faster, getting her closer and closer to the edge of orgasm. It’d been a long time since a man made her orgasm, and she was certain, she’d never come close to this intensity. He reached down and pulled her up by the back of her neck, holding her against him like a rag doll, as he brought her closer. , his thumb brushed over her clit and She opened her mouth, trying not to scream. Her limbs started to shake, as her pelvis started thrusting into his hand, flailing about as Her vision began to blur. She closed her eyes tight, ready for the climax.

“Look at me. Look at who is making you feel this way,” he said seductively.

She breathed, looking into his gorgeous green eyes, as He quickened his pace again and added a third finger, making her buck, as she grabbed his rock hard erection, causing him to hiss, and roll on top of her.

“Patience.” He teased, pushing her legs apart. She looked in between his to see his cock standing hard and long against his stomach, a new need screamed within her, demanding him inside her right fucking now.

“What do you want?” He asked innocently, three fingers diving into her again. She closed her eyes from all the sensations, trying to get control, but she was past the point of pride now.

“Please--” She gasped. “Please.”

“Please what?” He pressed down on her clit and She wanted to kill him, but first had to fuck him. His other hand came down and pinched her nipple, twisting it and making her cry out.

“Fuck!” She screamed as he did the same to the other. “Fuck! Fuck me Roman! Fucking fuck me now or I’m going to kill you!”

He didn’t need to be told twice and She felt the large head of his cock against her entrance, before he just forced it inside her with one powerful thrust.

He was big and it took her body a moment to adjust to him, the burn slowly fading as he gave her a moment to breathe and relax herself to accommodate by far the largest cock she’d ever seen, let alone was inside of her.

Somehow it felt divine when he began to move again, and she moaned loudly, his body pressing down into her as he started to move his hips back and forth. She could feel him driving into her with solid, sure strokes as She clenched around him. His lips crashed into hers again as he pushed his hand under her ass and pulled her hips up, sitting back so he could move at a quicker pace. Setting her nerves on fire. Every inch of her body sang in extreme pleasure. His thrusts massaged her inner walls, the tension roaring through her, as he bottomed out and touched a place she’d never felt before, but the intensity made her screech.

She could feel the tell tale signs of an orgasm swelling through her but She held it back, making it feel sweeter and richer with each passing moment. His fingers dug into hips hard enough to break her bones as he closed his eyes, focusing on his own pleasure. His pace turned more erratic and She gripped him around his torso, desperately trying to hang on so they could both orgasm at the same time. Pulling him down and attempting to hide her face in his throat, he stopped and leaned back looking at her beautiful flushed face.

“Ah--ah-- ah--” He held still. “Look at me.”

She did, letting herself melt into his gaze as he started again, harder and faster than before. Noises came from her, she didn’t know She could make and his hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing possessively. Each thrust sent shockwaves through her until She was right back to nearly cumming.

“Please--” It took effort to speak through his grip, but She was so close, she didn’t care if she had to beg. “Please, I’m so close--”

“Tell me how badly you want it.” He ordered, his own breath ragged.

“I need it-- please! Please, Roman!” She screamed like a desperate, shameless whore, before she exploded, tightening around him as his grip turned to a vice around her neck and somehow the lack of oxygen intensified the sensory overload to a new height. She drowned in the relentless, all encompassing sensations, that lasted far longer than She thought possible-- causing herself to completely release control for the first time in her life.

As the shocks rocked through her, she felt him stiffen and press into her as deep as possible, spending himself inside her. She couldn’t help but trip out a little about being so full of him. She’d never allowed anyone to finish inside her before.

“You really are good at everything,” he said playfully, as he rubbed his nose along hers, and held her a moment, before pulling out, and flopping down beside her. Brushing his fingers along her tight stomach, and full breasts, he decided she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

His mother was going to fucking hate her...

Perfect.

#bill skarsgard #roman #roman godfrey #my writing #smut #bill skarsgård smut #hemlock grove #perfect

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blu-joons · 4 years

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DATING SEVENTEEN A⇴Z HEADCANON ⇴ Kim Mingyu

A ⇴ AFFECTION

Being affectionate is something that Mingyu is big on, he loves cuddling you and keeping you close. His tall frame definitely works to his advantage as he can wrap you up and keep you, even when you want him to let you go.

B ⇴ BEFORE DATING

You were minding your own business on a walk one day when you felt a guy crash into you. As you looked around, your eyes met a tall guy who was quick to apologise, guiding you across to a nearby store so he could buy you a new shirt once he noticed that his coffee cup had ruined the one that he was wearing.

C ⇴ CONFESSION

Mingyu wasn’t shy of confidence when it came to confessing to you. He waited until you began to drop a few obvious hints to him to start planning out a confession. A lot of heart and thought went into it, Mingyu arranged a romantic day, and night, confessing to you right at the end of your evening. The whole day was more than you could have ever imagined from him, and a very reassuring sign that he was the one too.

D ⇴ DATES

Your dates with Mingyu are always very sentimental and meaningful, he loves to do things that you would remember and recognise the heart that he put into each one. The way of doing this for him is usually through food, he enjoys cooking for you and spending a lot of time to make sure that he perfects the recipe exactly to your liking. Selfishly, Mingyu is also a massive foodie too so he will never turn down the opportunity to cook for himself whenever he has the chance to cook for you as well.

E ⇴ EXPERIENCE

If Mingyu was going to fall in love, it was to be for the long run. As soon as he started dating you, he made it clear to you that he only wanted something serious. He knew his work demanded a lot from him, but there was always a part of him that wanted to experience love too. Whilst he knew he had quite a lot of attention from the fans, he was determined to make sure that you trusted in him before letting things get too serious, and also make sure that he was open with the fans to not upset or hurt them too.

F ⇴ FIGHTING

He very much wore his heart on his sleeve, and fights were definitely included within that. Mingyu hated fighting with you, he wasn’t someone that was big on conflict despite his stature, out of the two of you, you coped a lot better than him. Mingyu would never usually say much in an argument, he’d stick around until you’d finished talking, and then try and find a solution as quickly as possible. The wait for an argument to resolve was the hardest part of it all, he couldn’t deal with the silence that came from you so he’d always try and sort things out just as quickly, if not quicker, than they fell apart.

G ⇴ GETTING TO KNOW HIS FAMILY

His family were very important to Mingyu and it was crucial for him that you got along with them and that they liked you too. For your first meeting he went all out, he wanted to make sure that he impressed both you and his family and gave you the best setting to get to know each other for the very first time.

H ⇴ HOME

Mingyu didn’t necessarily want to move out of the dorm, but he was keen on spending a lot of time at yours. He didn’t want to disturb Wonwoo too much by being in their room together, so you’d usually be respectful of him and spend a lot of time at your place, where you could also spend better time alone.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU”

Mingyu was the first to say, ‘I love you,’ one night when he was sure that you were sleeping. You also felt as if you were dreaming when you heard his voice whisper into your ear, but when you asked the following morning if you were really dreaming, and he said no, you couldn’t help but say it back to him, making sure that he knew he wasn’t dreaming too.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY

Whilst he liked to consider himself as someone who was confident and loud, Mingyu certainly had his moments when he’d get jealous too. There were times when he just couldn’t help himself but have to bite his tongue. Behind the noise, he was sensitive, if he saw another guy around you then it would definitely put his back up and put him on high alert. He was protective of you, and if he felt like he needed to step in, he’d usually use his height to assert his dominance into a situation and send a very clear message to whoever was trying to get to you.

K ⇴ KIDS

Having kids is definitely something Mingyu looks forward to. He can’t wait for the day when there’s little ones running around who can match his energy and smile just as much as him. You also know that he’s very much a family man, as much as he loves performing, Mingyu has had several discussions with you where he’s told you how he hopes to be able to settle down one day, especially since you entered his life too.

L ⇴ LAUGHTER

With such a positive outlook on so much, it’s impossible for Mingyu not to be laughing. He can find the humour in just about everything, even if it is absolutely terrible. Having him around with a big grin permanently on his face definitely helps to make you smile more often too. When you’re feeling down, he’s the best person to have around to cheer you up because he has such an infectious personality. Even if you’re at your lowest, Mingyu will work tirelessly to make sure that the smile is back on your face, whatever is troubling you, he’ll find a way to flip it around so you can try and look at it with a more positive and happier mindset.

M ⇴ MISSING

He’s quite good at keeping his emotions to one side, thankfully Mingyu is quite an optimistic person so rather than focus on how long he’s been away from you, he’ll think about how there’s fewer days to being back with you. Having a glass half full attitude certainly helps Mingyu cope when he’s away from you. He’ll be constantly trying to keep his mind positive and looking forwards, and use that to also help you feel better when you’re having a bad day or really missing him. No matter how he’s feeling, he makes sure to keep the smile on his face both for the boys but also for you too so you can remember to smile as well.

N ⇴ NICKNAMES

Mingyu is used to being the tall one, and so will often call you something like ‘little one,’ to remind you that he is not just tall, but he is the tallest of all of the members too, making sure to show his height off to you, and them.

O ⇴ OBSESSION

He’s obsessed with your hair, especially when he’s nervous or down, Mingyu will love to play with your hair to try and distract himself from whatever it is that’s going on.

P ⇴ PDA

Being affectionate in public isn’t something that Mingyu’s afraid of, he doesn’t care if people know that the two of you are together, but with that, he won’t force your affection in front of people. He’ll do whatever comes naturally to him and what he knows will keep you safe when you’re out with him.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS

You’ll often get asked if you have a couple of minutes to help Mingyu when he’s broken something or made a mess. Sometimes you’re convinced his clumsy streak has a curse against you with how often he ends up causing chaos for you to sort out.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS

Mingyu was keen on his action figures and collectibles, and so one day decided to surprise you with an action figure of your own. It ended up being something that he kept with him a lot, especially if he was on the road. It almost became a good luck charm for him to keep in his pocket, even if you weren’t able to be there in person, then the figure would be your spirit cheering him on with everything that he did.

S ⇴ SEX

Mingyu is incredibly romantic when it comes to sex, he loves to make you feel very loved and very safe in his tall frame. He enjoys taking his time with you and making sure that every occasion is special, he never wants to rush anything when it comes down to showing you how much he loves you. At times, he can be a bit of a tease, but around you, more often than not he turns into a complete softie as you’re his ultimate weakness.

T ⇴ TEXTS

Messages from Mingyu will crop up a lot during the day, especially if he didn’t get to see you that morning. He’ll often just check in with you to see if you’re doing alright or enquire what your days like and if there’s time for him there.

U ⇴ UNIVERSE

Together the two of you are very similar, you’re a bit of a walking cliche at times, finishing each other’s sentences or knowing exactly what the other will order off the menu, but that’s exactly why you’re your own favourite couple too.

V ⇴ VACATION

You knew that Mingyu was a huge fan of Latin America, and so when a gap in his schedule finally appeared, you managed to organise the perfect trip that included all the things that you knew were on his bucket list. Somehow, you managed to keep it a complete secret from Mingyu until you ended up at the terminal.

W ⇴ WHINING

It was hit and miss whether Mingyu would whine around you, if he was in a needy mood, he’d let you know about it that was one thing for certain.

X ⇴ XXXXX

Kisses are a huge deal for Mingyu, he’s affection at the best of times, but especially with kisses. His favourite spot to kiss is definitely the top of your head, he loves to be able to lean over you and kiss into your hairline, or crane his body around so that he could reach your cheek whilst wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. Whenever you’re happy or sad, he’ll always be there with a kiss and some words of encouragement.

Y ⇴ YOU

You were his teammate, the two of you took on the world together.

Z ⇴ ZZZ

The two of you would often fall asleep intertwined, with Mingyu’s hands usually running through your hair. It was an unconscious habit of Mingyu’s, there was something so comforting him to be able to play with your hair when he rested.

---

Masterlist

#seventeen #seventeen imagine #mingyu #mingyu imagine #kim mingyu #kim mingyu imagine #seventeen reaction #seventeen scenario #seventeen mingyu #seventeen one shot #seventeen drabble #seventeen fluff #mingyu reaction #mingyu scenario #mingyu one shot #mingyu drabble #mingyu fluff #kpop #kpop imagine

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lightsovermonaco · 3 years

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His Good Sweater: Chapter 13

Masterlist

Thanks to @acollectionofficsandshit for being my bestie and beta reading! This would have never happened without her ❤ Make sure you read Roman Profile, set in the same universe!

Word Count: 6.7k

Recommended song: "Cupid’s Chokehold/Breakfast in America” by Gym Class Heroes

"I have to go."

"Can't you stay five more minutes?"

"I wish."

"Come on, just a few more minutes to cuddle." Pierre flings back the fluffy duvet and holds out a hand. "Please?"

"I have an exam," you say with a sigh but bend to press a kiss to his upturned palm. "I can't skip."

Pierre groans and slings an arm over his eyes. "What am I supposed to do all day?"

"I don't have a sim but I have an old PlayStation you're more than welcome to use. I think I still have one or two games."

"That won't keep me busy."

"I'm sure you'll find something. Just stay out of trouble okay? I'd like to get my security deposit back when I finally move out of this hellhole."

"Okay," Pierre grumbles, sitting up to give you a quick kiss. "What time are you getting back?"

"Four. We can go out to dinner or something." You smooth a hand over his hair, smiling lightly. "Or we can go for a picnic and take a walk through Saint James Park."

"Sounds like a plan." He turns his head to kiss your palm. "I'll be counting down the minutes."

You roll your eyes but your smile contradicts the sass. "I'll be home before you know it. Love you, champion."

"I love you too, mon coeur."

He was endlessly grateful for how easily the two of you had fallen back into each other. When he had shown up at your doorstep he had expected there to be awkward pauses and minutes of tense silence, but there had been blissfully little of either. As the days bleed into each other, your relationship only gets steadier, closer and closer to what it used to be. Maybe it was because you had been the one to break the silence or maybe it was because he had thrown himself into his career into someone's bed- whatever the reason, it didn’t matter. He was simply grateful to be welcomed back into your life. He didn't plan on leaving any time soon.

Pierre allows himself a half hour of lounging in bed before forcing himself to get up and shower. Off weeks were hard; all he wanted to do was rest and recharge but he still had to follow his workout regimen and sleep schedule or he risked falling out of the habit, making it that much harder to get back in the groove come race week.

First order of business: clean the clutter you had shoved in closets and the spare room prior to his arrival the day before. Folding the three baskets of clean laundry took an hour, washing dishes another thirty minutes, and vacuuming the entire flat took twenty. Once the counters are spotless and there isn’t a stray sock to be found, he takes stock of your pantry and notes what staples you were running low on.

Two hours later he trudges back up the three flights of stairs to your apartment, arms laden with reusable bags packed to the gills with food. His legs burn and he's slightly winded from the excursion; at least that could count as his work out for the day.

He's just about to start slicing vegetables for dinner when his phone chimes with a text from his PR agent, Sylvie.

You're supposed to be in an interview now. Where are you?

"Oh shit." He scrambles for his laptop which of course was dead. He manages to plug it in at the dining room table and angle it so the background is mostly neutral, just a band poster framed behind him. He checks his hair before logging into the interview.

"There's the star," the interviewer says, far too chipper to be entirely genuine.

"Sorry, I was having connection issues." He queues up his signature sweetheart smile that gets him out of any squabbles. It works, the woman's irritation melting into a more easy expression.

"Let's just get right into it. Since we're low on time I'll jump right in, if you don't mind."

Pierre leans back. He had an inkling where this was headed. "By all means, please."

"We just saw news of your deal with Christian Horner- if you take seventh in this year's drivers championship, it looks like you're at Red Bull Racing next year. How does that feel after being publicly demoted mid-season in 2019?"

A smirk tugs at Pierre's lips. He had known this exact question was coming. He had debated how to answer it without starting waves and still remaining truthful. If there was one thing he prided himself on, it was his ability to be diplomatic when others may have let their egos get in the way.

"Obviously I'm grateful that Red Bull has recognized the hard work I've been putting in at Alpha Tauri," he starts. "I think I've been able to push the car as far as I can but I still have pace in me, personally. So moving into the Red Bull would let me loose, so to speak, and give me a chance to prove that Red Bull is where I belong."

"Right, you have had quite a spectacular season so far with a race win under your belt and a few podiums for good measure. What do you attribute that success to? Why is it so different now in an Alpha Tauri versus that coveted second Red Bull seat?"

Pierre purses his lips. The answer he was expected to give wasn't one he was willing to voice. Instead he opts for neutral. "I've been able to focus and hone my driving this season. I've found a groove that works for me and with it has come an insane amount of confidence, which is something I struggled with for awhile after going back to Torro Rosso. I think it's really just that I'm finally comfortable in the car and with my team and that makes a huge difference."

"Thank you for that," the journalist says and Pierre nods. "Shifting gears, I have a few questions about your personal life if you don't mind."

This was the part he always dreads. Questions were often prying and he had to subtly skirt around them in a way that offered a satisfying answer without giving away too much. It was an art he liked to think he had perfected over the years but still didn't enjoy.

"As long as you don't mind me staying silent if I don't want to answer."

The woman laughs, the sound sharp and grating. "Of course. Unless I can bribe you into giving me an exclusive."

"Likely not. But you ask the right questions and we'll see."

"You've been seen hanging around a certain London neighborhood lately- that wouldn't have anything to do with you and your lovely lady, would it?"

He had been waiting for that one, too. When the two of you had returned from Red Bull headquarters he had noticed the man taking pictures across the street. He hadn't said anything to you at the time because really, there was no point in getting you worked up when he had a plan to handle it.

The question played right into his hand, in fact.

Pierre sits forward, folding his hands in front of him. "Actually yes. We recently got back together and if you'll let me, I would like to make a request."

The woman leans back and checks her notes. "Well it's not quite what I had planned but please," she gives a flourish with a hand, "you have the floor."

"I know driver's personal lives are something that a lot of people are interested in and that's great. I don't mind sharing things with my fans or letting them get the inside scoop, but there's some things I would rather be left alone. My relationship is one of them. I know you all took note that she hasn't been around the past couple months and if I'm being honest, it's because of comments and press coverage that invaded her privacy. I think some people forgot she was more than just a name on a screen."

Pen poised to take notes, the interviewer prompts, "You said you had a request?"

He doesn’t stop to assess the damage he had already undoubtedly done. Sylvie was probably already on the phone doing damage control with every news outlet she could get her hands on, if her muted and black square at the bottom of the screen was an indication.

"All I'm asking is that you leave her alone. If you have questions or comments you have to make, just direct them at me. Don't follow her around asking about me. Don't comment on her posts unless you're capable of being a decent human. Just… let her live her life in peace."

Maybe he was a love sick fool, but honestly he didn't care if he lost some support from fans. If they had such strong opinions on his personal life, he would be better off without them anyway. And his team could cut him and even if he was unable to secure a seat in Formula 1 after next season, he would survive.

But if he lost you again, he would be broken. It had taken being apart from you for him to realize it and he'd be damned if he was ever disconnected from you like that again.

"That's quite the speech."

Pierre shrugs. "It was. She's the most important thing in my life, right up there with racing.” Now that he had started down the road of truth, he found it impossible to hold his tongue. “I lost her once because people couldn't be bothered to remember that their words have consequences. I won't let it happen again."

"So you see yourself with her for a long time then?" The woman's eyes glitter with the potential of getting an even juicer tidbit from him.

Pierre’s jaw sets, muscles feathering. "That's not something I'm prepared to discuss."

The woman purses her lips and tips her head to the side. There was clearly more she wanted to say. "Well, I have to thank you for what you've given me here. My boss is gonna love the exclusive. I won't push any further. Thanks for your comments, Pierre."

"Thanks for actually being respectful."

“We aren’t all monsters.” The woman shrugs. “I can’t say I haven’t had my moments but I try to be straightforward.”

“Right, yeah. I get that you have a job to do.”

“Anyway. I look forward to seeing what you can do the rest of this season. Good luck.”

He signs off and instantly anxiety washes over him. If she twisted his words he was screwed. Sylvie would be on the phone as soon as the article was printed, no doubt trying to soothe sponsors and investors. She'd give him an earful about being respectful and not poking the bear but he'd tune it out like he always did.

The sooner he got away from Red Bull, the better.

Instead of dwelling on it he busies himself with cooking. It was one of his guilty pleasures. He always requested a full kitchen when he was staying anywhere more than a few days so that if he had the chance to make a home-cooked meal, he had the option. For tonight he had selected his favorite recipe. Parmesan-Cesar chicken wasn't normally something you would ever touch with a ten foot pole but as long as he was making it, Pierre knew you'd at least give it a try.

Music blasting in the background, Pierre sings along quietly as he unpacks the rest of the ingredients and gets to work. He does a little spin between the island and the sink, rinsing the dishes and putting them right in the dishwasher as he uses them. A clean kitchen is the mark of a great chef, his mom had told him, drilling the phrase into him when he was young.

In the middle of cutting potatoes Pierre gets a call. He only has an hour until you're home so he doesn't bother stopping, just puts it on speaker and continues measuring spices.

"Hey Daniel."

"Heard you're in London," Daniel says, Australian accent thick. "And a little birdie told me you and your lady got back together."

"We did," Pierre says, a smile splitting his face. "Finally."

"Thank god, now I don't have to listen to your drunk woe-is-me rambling anymore."

Pierre laughs and sets aside the measuring spoons. "It's not that bad."

"Oh please." Pierre could practically hear the eyes rolling. "The number of times I had to send an uber to a bar after a grand prix is insane. Charles and I should be entitled to financial compensation with the amount of babysitting we've been doing."

"I can handle myself!"

"Not after a martini you can't."

He was right there. "Is there a point to this conversation?"

"Oh right- I'm actually in town today too, got some stuff to shoot for McLaren before we head to Austria for the race next week. You guys wanna come out with us tonight? We're heading to a bar or two."

"I actually had something planned-"

"She already said she's coming!" Dan's girlfriend shouts in the background.

“Well then why even ask me?”

“To be polite,” Daniel offers with a laugh. “We’re meeting at the rooftop bar at the Trafalgar hotel at seven. That give you enough time to do whatever you had planned that’s apparently more important than seeing your best mates?”

“We’ll be there,” Pierre says and hangs up. He finishes seasoning the potatoes and pops them in the oven, finally getting a chance to sit while they cook alongside the main course.

He's on his feet a few minutes later, decluttering the last bits of mess around your flat. It was clear it hadn't had a decent cleaning in quite awhile- hopefully you'd keep it tidy now that the effort had been made. The guys would tease him endlessly if they found out he was acting like a housewife.

You arrive home just as he’s setting the table. “God, it smells amazing in here.”

“Salut, mon amour.” Hands full with hot dishes, he settles for a kiss to your cheek. “I made dinner.”

“And you cleaned,” you observe. “You were a busy boy.”

“Pyry would kill me if he found out I was laying around all day. I had to do something.”

You hang your backpack on the hook behind the door and take a seat at the table. “Well remind me to thank him again when I see him. This looks delicious.”

Pierre grins over his shoulder at you. “Me or the food?”

You throw your head back and laugh, loud and unrestrained. “The food, you goof.”

Pierre quirks a brow. "Is that the honest answer?"

"Okay, maybe both."

The meal is filled with your ramblings about your exam and your new hobby- this month it was hiking. You went into detail about all the few trails in the city you’d been on as well as the more challenging ones that dotted the countryside. Pierre just nods along as you talk, already planning on staying up late to learn what he could about the topic so he could be a better conversation partner.

The pair of you work together to tidy the kitchen and put away any leftovers. “Did you bring something semi nice to wear tonight or do we have to make a quick trip to the store?”

“I’ve got some Tauri stuff I can wear. And not just team gear,” he adds when you groan. “You know that cream sweater you love? The one with the logo debossed on the front? I’ve got that.”

“Oh,” you say before biting your lip. Your eyes trail down his frame and back up like you’re imagining it on him. A tingle travels up his spine under your assessing gaze. If you kept that up, neither of you would make it out of the apartment tonight. “My favorite. Yeah, wear that. It’ll be on my floor by the end of the night.”

Pierre places his hands on your waist and grins. “Will it? And what will be on the floor from your closet, hm?”

“Your favorite dress.”

“The orange one?” He realizes half a second too late that you would never know how much he adored that dress from the gala. It had hugged your curves in all the right places and left your back exposed, which would leave him free to trace patterns on your soft skin whenever he pleased. He had missed out on worshipping you in it that night and he wouldn’t mind the opportunity to do so now.

You roll your eyes. “I can’t wear that to a bar.”

“Says who?” Pierre nuzzles his face against your neck, breathing you in. A light undercurrent of sweat from your walk home from classes mingles with the usual bright scent of you, only serving to rile him up further. Never in a million years would he have guessed that a simple scent could do him in, and yet here he was, completely wrapped up in yours.

“Says me.” You sigh, tipping your head to the side when Pierre’s nose grazes your skin.

His lips follow until he reaches your jaw before he pulls back. “What one are you wearing then?”

“Does it matter?” You cross your arms, the smirk playing on your kissable lips tempting him.

“I have to mentally prepare myself.” And if whatever you chose was too sexy, he would need to get his handsiness out of his system before the pair of you met up with Daniel and his girlfriend. The last thing he needed was to be on the front of some seedy gossip column when his plan was to ease back into it.

You smile up at him, broad and unrestrained as if knowing your answer would affect him greatly. “The cobalt blue one that makes you stutter.”

The dress in question was just as form fitting as the orange one, but shorter and decidedly more distracting. It fell mid thigh and the spaghetti straps left your shoulders exposed, which coupled with the low back displayed a downright sinful amount of skin. You had worn it at a Torro Rosso event a couple years back and he had scarcely been able to get a full sentence out around you all night.

“That one’s a close second.” He follows you to your room, leaving you to hunt through the closet while he digs through his suitcase, thankful that he had the foresight to check out of his hotel on the way back from Red Bull and bring his things here.

Because there was no way in hell he was missing a second of being by your side while he was in town. Every moment had to count when he had no idea when he would be able to sleep next to you again, not when the season was nearly over and there were two double headers between now and winter break. When so many variables stood between him and you, he had no problem prioritizing you over a routine workout or a full night’s rest.

Pierre changes into the sweater and a pair of dark skinny jeans well before you emerge from the bathroom. He doesn’t bother responding to Dan’s text that includes an address and reminds him to be on time, instead opting to scroll through his instagram feed. He likes a handful of posts from his fellow drivers, including one of Max actually smiling at something off camera.

“Well?”

Pierre’s head snaps up at the sound of your voice. The phone falls from his hand when he drags his eyes over your body, head to toe and back again.

Oh, he was so fucked.

Maybe it was selfish, but with your hair done like that, the barest brush of makeup lining your eyes and in that stunningly blue dress, he didn’t want any other man to have the privilege of laying their eyes on you.

No, you were all his.

The moment you’re within reach, Pierre places his hands on the back of your thighs, just beneath the curve of your barely covered ass. You chuckle and tap your fingers under his chin. “Close your mouth; you’ll catch flies.”

“Just so you know, if you wear that dress I can’t be held liable for my actions.” Up to and including scaring off anyone that wasn’t Daniel or his girlfriend. No one else deserved to be blessed with your radiance. Hell, he didn’t deserve it, and yet here you stood.

“We’ll see about that.”

**********

Daniel and his girlfriend had already made their way through a round of drinks by the time you arrive. It wasn’t Pierre’s fault he couldn’t keep his hands off you and wound up getting distracted on the drive over.

"Late as always," she greets, kissing your cheek. "Dan got us here fifteen minutes early because he wanted the table with the best view."

"Like our names wouldn't have gotten us the table if we asked," Pierre says, wrapping Daniel in a one-armed hug before kissing his girl’s cheek in a traditional French greeting. "The view is pretty great though."

You were already leaning on the glass partition, hands curled over the edge and undoubtedly leaving behind fingerprints on the pristine surface, completely unfazed by the fact that the other patrons were staring. You had eyes only for the London skyline and Trafalgar square lit up below. The bar with its white marble tabletops and strict dress code was absolutely not a place that you should be standing on your tiptoes for a better view, but there was no way he could condemn you when your face lit up like that.

Pierre just places a hand on the small of your back and shoots a look at the bartender currently glaring in your direction, daring the smartly dressed man to say anything. He only raises a brow and resumes filling drink orders.

"You guys know how to pick a place," you say, "I could stand here all night."

"Right," Daniel's girlfriend says, rolling her eyes at Pierre who shrugs as if to say what do you want me to do? He was powerless to deny you anything that brought you a semblance of joy; your smile was everything to him. “Love, why don’t you come tell us about uni? You’re the only one of us currently enrolled, and I’m sure the boys would love to hear about all the drama.”

You and Pierre share a secret grin. You shake your head but allow him to guide you back to the cocktail table. “Drama? I’m an engineering major. The closest thing we have to drama is someone grossly miscalculating a structural load.”

Dan shoots Pierre a mischievous grin. “I heard Stroll might be moving next year-”

Both you and Daniel’s girlfriend groan at the same time. “No racing talk when we’re around tonight,” she says. “I’ve heard enough lately.”

“What’s new in the publishing world?” You ask, leaning into Pierre when he wraps an arm around you. He only half listens to her explain the so-called “top secret” project she’s currently working on, instead opting to get drunk on you.

The light breeze filtering through the surrounding buildings ruffles your hair. You lift a hand absentmindedly to tuck it behind your ear in an attempt to keep it out of your face. Everything you do is amazing to him, snagging his attention even when he should be listening to whatever it was his friends were saying. Your gravity was simply too strong to bother resisting.

“Enough talk,” Daniel’s girlfriend says, waving a hand. “You need a drink, and I want to dance. Let’s go.” Before Pierre can protest, she’s dragging you away to the glass top bar. You throw an apologetic glance over your shoulder and Pierre just winks. He was fine watching you from afar for now.

Pierre’s gaze drops to your perky ass when you lean in to let the bartender know what you want, likely shouting to be heard over the music, your dress riding up a bit with the movement. For having such a strict dress code, this place sure did feel like an upper class club.

You hook your thumb over a shoulder, the bartender’s gaze darting to Pierre before the man nods. The only explanation you offer is a wink, followed by a note on a cocktail napkin and a beer delivered a few minutes later by a server.

This is supposed to be the best beer they have. Just try it.

Leave it to you to constantly push him outside his comfort zone. Pierre tentatively sniffs the foamy glass and shrugs before taking a sip. Not bad, but he still preferred his usual whiskey.

Setting the glass down, Pierre turns back to Daniel. “Congrats on extending your contract with McLaren by the way. Should give you a decent shot at keeping up with the big boys and landing some serious points.”

“Seems like most of us are moving around, doesn’t it? Sainz to Ferrari, Seb to Aston Martin... The only one with any sort of long term commitment is Max and now me I guess.”

“And Charles,” Pierre adds. “He’s stuck in that red monstrosity for the foreseeable future.”

Daniel laughs, taking a swig from his glass. “And you’re moving too, huh? Austria should be interesting,” Daniel remarks, watching the girls at the bar nursing their own drinks. “What with the news of your new contract breaking and all.”

“Potential contract,” Pierre corrects. “Not for sure yet.”

Daniel scoffs. “Come on mate. You won’t have any problem getting up to seventh by the end of the season. Perez is slipping and the news that his seat is in jeopardy will only help your cause.”

Pierre takes a sip of his amber beer and nods. “I’m sure Perez doesn’t appreciate it, but he’s always been a good sport.” You catch Pierre’s eye and lift your fresh flute of champagne in a mock salute. Dan’s girlfriend drags you out on the dancefloor and immediately spins you. Your laugh is nearly audible, the memory of it fresh in Pierre’s mind as he watches you.

“Mate, have you been listening to a word I’ve said?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Daniel shakes his head and drains his drink. “I really don’t know how it took you two this long to come together. You’ve been dancing around each other for years but neither of you would admit it.”

“I could say the same about you two.”

Daniel shrugs. “Fair point. At least we got it all worked out in a weekend though.”

Pierre rolls his eyes and shoves his friend’s shoulder. “Whatever. Not all of us can have a perfect love story.”

The grin Daniel shoots Pierre is pure sunshine. “How long are you planning on waiting before you ask her to marry you?”

“What?” Pierre sputters, nearly choking on air. “Who said anything about marriage?”

“Oh come on,” Dan says, rolling his eyes. “We all know it’s coming eventually.”

Pierre would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it. But he wasn’t sure if it was the time for a proposal, not when you had just gotten back together. The last thing he wanted to do was go through the pain of losing you again because he was too forward.

“One day at a time,” Pierre says finally, dragging himself back to earth. “I just got her back a few days ago. I don't want to scare her off by proposing just yet.”

“Right. Well you might want to get a ring on that hand sooner rather than later,” Daniel notes, gesturing to the two men who had approached the girls. “How long are we gonna let that go on before we step in?” Neither of you paid the men any attention, instead enjoying each other’s company, but the men’s eyes roaming over your body sets Pierre on edge.

“They can handle themselves,” Pierre remarks, shifting on his feet. The weak attempt at self assurance didn’t do much to negate the red tinting his vision. “They’re fine.”

“Her sharp tongue will hold them at bay,” Daniel says, winking at his girlfriend. “For a while at least.” Props to Daniel for possessing inhuman amounts of restraint, but Pierre’s muscles were coiled and ready to interject at the first sign of trouble.

He has to pause to remind himself he doesn't own you. You could make your own decisions about who you spoke with and who you entertained as long as he was the one to take you home. He didn't care if you wanted to flirt; he knew it meant nothing and if you got a free drink out if it then so be it. But those were the rules: flirting, no touching. He'd step in if need be if someone took it too far.

But that didn't mean he had to enjoy it.

Pierre watches tight lipped as you politely chat with the man, your body language closed off and dismissive. Pierre hates that you even speak a word to him. He knows it shouldn’t bother him because he trusts you, but the stranger is a wild card. Pierre watches like a hawk as the man inches ever closer, slowly interesting himself into your personal space. He waits for you to take a step back, to grant him that silent permission to come over and insert himself in the conversation and get his hands on you, this proving you weren't on the market.

One of the men shouts something at you over the music and you leer back at him, clearly disgusted at whatever he had said. Whirling on him, you open your mouth, likely to snap out a profanity lined retort, when his hand latches onto your arm.

"Oh, fuck no."

Half a second later, Pierre is stalking across the dance floor, no thoughts other than teaching the asshole a lesson. His hands are already curled into fists, ready to swing if the man hadn't moved by the time he arrived. Tolerating someone hitting on you was one thing, but blatantly ignoring the clear dismissals and laying a hand on you? No way in hell was he standing by and letting that happen.

The resounding crack of your open hand hitting the man’s face has pride swelling in Pierre’s chest. That’s my girl. You’d solved the problem before he’d even arrived. You jab a finger in the man’s face, Daniel’s girlfriend right there with you to back you up.

“Fuck off,” you were saying as Pierre approached, “or do you need to go back to kindergarten and learn to keep your hands to yourself? Maybe next time you’ll think twice before laying a hand on a taken woman- or any woman, for that matter.”

Driving your point home, Pierre slips an arm around your waist and pulls you in until your back is flush to his chest. You crane your neck up, the tense muscles beneath his fingertips and the fury contorting your features confirming just how rattled you are.

The lines creasing your brow are soothed away when you realize who holds you. You open your mouth to say something but Pierre places a hand on your throat, thumb and forefinger framing your jaw as he cuts you off with a kiss, his eyes locked on the guy still standing off to the side holding his cheek.

You taste like the champagne you’d been sipping all night. It’s the only thought in his head outside of the jealousy licking through his veins like wildfire as he claims you then and there in front of the crowd. Mine, his heart sings. He flexes his fingers, taking advantage of your surprised gasp to slide his tongue against yours. Mine, mine, mine.

Pierre lets you be the one to break away, lips curling in a smug, kiss-swollen smile as you address the men. “In case you still don’t get the picture, I’m not interested. And neither is she.” You jerk your chin, indicating your friend and Daniel, who had indeed followed Pierre and since mirrored his possessive stance, one arm wrapped tightly around his own girlfriend.

The two men reluctantly slink away after mumbling something unintelligible but undoubtedly indecent. It had been a week and a half since he had been on track and he had plenty of pent up aggression to get out. He didn’t normally opt for using someone’s face as a punching back as a stress reliever, but rulers were made to be broken. Your hand splayed on Pierre’s chest is all that stops him from following and asking them to repeat themselves.

“Just let me hit him,” Pierre says, voice far more level and put together than he had expected it to be. “Just one punch. That’s all I would need.” His knuckles smart like he had already connected them to the man’s face.

“And let you throw away your contract? I don’t think so. The last thing you need is a blurry photo of you knocking someone’s teeth in hitting the front page of every gossip mag in the country. I’m fine, so you can cut the bravado.”

“Yeah, I hear you.”

“I was wondering how long you were gonna leave us out here,” you say, trying to regain Pierre’s attention. When it doesn’t work, you grasp his stubbled chin and force him to look at you. “I didn’t expect to be stranded for so long.”

The eye contact is what finally calms his racing thoughts. Seeing the trust reflected in your face is enough to have his grip on your waist loosening to allow you to face him. “Someone convinced me you could fend for yourself. And while it seems that’s true, I couldn’t stand it anymore.”

Your satisfied hum is swallowed by the pounding bass but Pierre feels it rumble in his chest. “Sometimes even a queen needs saving.”

Though his point had long since been proven, Pierre’s hand slides down your back to rest on your ass nonetheless. “I knew you going out looking like this would cause trouble.”

You tip your head to the side, feigning innocence as you press your hips to his. You grin, noticing the hard on that had been bothering him all night. “Looking like what?”

“Drop dead fucking gorgeous,” he says, accentuating his point by sliding his hand up your thigh and under the hem of your dress. “You know I’m tearing this off you the second we get home, right?”

“Why do you think I wore it?”

The sound that escapes him is primal and possessive. The presence of bystanders does nothing to prevent him from palming your ass and kneading the flesh. He presses his lips to your neck and mumbles between kisses, “To torture me.”

You push lightly at his chest, laughing although your eyes dart around the space in search of cameras. Old habits were hard to break. “That may have been part of my motivation. But you’ll have to wait. I haven’t seen Dan in forever and I would actually like to have a conversation with him before we sneak off somewhere.”

At least you knew he wouldn’t be able to wait until you got home to get between your legs. “Fine,” he grumbles, hands settling on your hips. “Only because I love you.”

You beam up at him. “Love you too.”

Arm still slung around your waist, Pierre nods at Daniel and follows the other couple back to the table.

After two more drinks, you and Daniel's girlfriend are singing along to the music in lilting, off key voices, simply enjoying the night air. A stray breeze catches your hair just as you turn to look at Pierre and his heart damn near leaps out of his chest.

To his credit, Pierre’s cheeks are rosy from more than just the charged glances you throw at him as the night wears on. He was on his fourth beer, far more than he usually drank these days, and the buzzing in his head was becoming increasingly hard to ignore. When he has to squint to tell the time on his watch, he figured that was enough.

"I should probably get going mate," Pierre says, turning to Daniel. "Early flight."

Daniel laughs and beacons for the girls. He kisses his girlfriend's cheek when she returns with you in tow. "Are we leaving already?" You pout, and Pierre had half a mind to stay simply have your smile make an encore appearance.

"Car coming," he murmurs, dipping his head to give you a proper kiss. God, you were stunning in that dress- he might not be able to string together words coherently, but he knew that much.

"Fine." You cross your arms for a split second to convey your feelings on the matter before wrapping your friends in a hug and saying your goodbyes.

Pierre's hand is already on your ass before you're in the uber. Get a few drinks in the boy and he let his guard down. You laugh and pull out of his embrace to usher him into the sleek black suv. If he had been coherent, he probably would have chatted with the driver about the specs of the engine or maybe even racing if he was a fan. Instead the ride is filled with stolen touches and sloppy, wet kisses to your neck.

"I can't wait till we're home," he mumbles. "You're gorgeous. How did I snag you? You're so far out of my league. No way should you be with me."

"I have a thing for guys that go fast in circles on the weekends."

"Really?" Pierre frowns. "Should I be worried?"

"No. You're the only one I have eyes for." His head is fuzzier than when you left the bar but your laugh breaks through, his stomach flipping at the melody of it. "And we are home."

Pierre blinks, realizing he does indeed stand in your kitchen, with no recollection of climbing the three flights of stairs between the street and your flat. "Oh. When did that happen?"

"After I half dragged you up the stairs." You bend over to undo the straps of your heels, giving him the perfect view. He lets out a whistle that ends in a hiccup.

"Take me to bed, lover," he says in what he thinks is a husky voice. It should be impossible for you to resist.

You roll your eyes and wrap an arm around his middle. "That's the plan. I'll take you to bed, strip you out of that sweater, and you'll be asleep before your head hits the pillow."

"Nnnnnno," he protests, hand sliding down your exposed back to settle at the base of your spine. "I wanna make the most of tonight. I leave tomorrow."

"You don't leave until noon," you point out. "Plenty of time to nurse your hangover and have fun before then, after you drink some water and get some sleep."

"But baby-"

"No buts. Do as I say or I'll send you off tomorrow without a goodbye kiss."

Even in his half drunken state he knew it was a swiss cheese lie, spotted with holes and completely stale. You'd never let him leave without a kiss goodbye because neither of you knew if it would be the last time. He was a race car driver after all, and that came with risks.

But he sighs anyways and slips off the cream sweater, letting it fall to the floor. At least one of you kept their promises.

After confirming he was settled into bed, you retreat to the bathroom. His heart aches at the absence, even though you're mere feet away with nothing but a thin door separating the two of you. He registers the sound of the tap turning on and your soft, off key humming of the last song he remembered hearing before getting out of the uber.

"Mon amour," he croons when you re-emerge in a set of silk pajamas. He reaches out his hands for you and you slide under the covers, immediately slotting your body against his. A leg hitches over his hip, tugging him closer until your middles touch.

"Mmm," he mumbles, nuzzling into your neck. "Je t'aime. Tu es l'amour de ma vie et nous vivons d'amour et d'eau fraîche."

"I have no idea what you're saying," you whisper, running your fingers through his hair. "But I like it. Feel free to keep going."

"Tes baisers sont du feu et je fond à ton toucher." He presses his lips to your neck before resuming his mumbled French. "Je pense toujours à toi. Je veux être avec toi pour toujours. Tu as mon cœur et je ne voudrais pas qu'il en soit autrement."

"I like the sound of that." You press a soft, sweet kiss to his forehead. God, that tenderness was why he loved you. That, and your personality, and your eyes, and your… everything. "Dormir, my love. I'll be here to listen to your pretty words in the morning."

The single word of his mother tongue on your lips has him smiling. "Oui, tu le feras. Parce que tu es à moi et je suis à toi."

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fapangel · 3 years

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D+24 Operational Analysis – What Ukraine Will Do Next

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I believe it’s time to move past summary of possible ground facts and listing theoretical options to make some more concrete predictions. However, there are a few significant developments in the terms of Russia’s operational abilities that have yet to be covered, and must be to put together the complete picture.

Let’s talk about roads and bridges.

Most of what the United Kingdom’s Ministry of Defence publicly states about the progress of the Ukrainian war is no surprise; it’s mainly useful as confirmation that the trends noticed through the narrow window of OSINT are indeed an accurate enough sampling. But on the 17th the UK’s MoD pointed out something that I hadn’t seen evidence of via OSINT: that Russia had limited bridging capabilities.

The more I thought about it, the more it fit. And when added to the rest of the picture, it changes everything.

The Art and Science of Military Bridging

Ukraine was quite obviously not expecting Putin to seriously invade with maximalist aims, as their government’s failure to initiate full mobilization till the very eve of war shows. This was responsible for many early setbacks, the most damning being the quick capture of the Kherson and Nova Kharkova bridges before serious efforts could be made to wire them to blow. Since then, however, the Ukrainians have clearly adjusted their tactics; wiring major river crossings for demolition ahead of time and engaging in a spree of destruction against smaller bridges throughout the country. Much like the mud, I thought this would prove a hindrance, but not a show stopper. Because just like mud, blown bridges are the norm in warfare, and while they slow an advance, they will not substantially stop one. The art and science of military bridging has been a necessity since ancient times when men fought with sling and steel. Demolishing bridges is due diligence for any defender, and it’s due diligence for the attacker to be prepared to deal with it. Like everything else when it comes to attack versus defense, it’s easier to create a problem than to surmount it; the natural friction of war that any attacker must plan for. With Russia having such an overall materiel advantage, I never thought about it past that – as I’ve said many times in my prior updates, rivers are obstacles, but not insurmountable ones.

But that does not mean it is easy.

The most common bridge in the history of warfare has been the humble pontoon bridge, and it’s much the same today. The definitive modern version is a Soviet invention, the PMP floating bridge, a design so clever America simply copied it wholesale, with the rest of the modern world soon following. It’s an elegant design that incorporates the road deck and the sealed float (“pontoon”) in one package that’s hinged to fold up compact on the back of a truck. A bridging battalion backs their trucks up to the river and dumps them off one at a time, and men can either wrangle them together in the shallows, then swing the completed length over (letting the current help) to reach the far shore, or use small motorboats (also unloaded from trucks) to nudge them together across the river. With the boats lashed to a few pontoon sections, they can also form rafts for ferrying vehicles across open water. He’s the US Army Reserve demonstrating the system in action.

There’s other options, of course, such as wheeled amphibious vehicles with built-in pontoons that can drive into the water, swim into a conga line and rotate their built-in road decking to interlock with each other. Or that delightful British invention, the Mexeflote, a folding pontoon system that comes with a modular motorized attachment to become a self powered raft, an idea others immediately and shamelessly stole.

All these marvels of combat engineering have one thing in common – they’re basically boats, and if you poke holes in them, they sink.

Your enemy will be trying extremely hard to poke holes in them – and every weapon in the modern military arsenal, starting with a 9mm pistol on upwards, is quite capable of doing it.

There’s other bridges, of course; made of steel girders with nary a float involved. But they take a long time to set up and a long time to take down and relocate, and once they enemy figures out where they are, they’ll dump artillery fire on it. Even if the bridge survives, the soft-skin trucked moving over and past it won’t be so lucky. The pontoon bridge defines bridging ops because of its speed. It’s the only real option for maintaining speed of advance and freedom of maneuver. An army using girder bridges will be outmaneuvered and outflanked by one using pontoon bridges.

Thus, bridging ops revolve around letting nothing shoot at the bridge. Stealth is of course the most potent asset here, aided greatly by the system’s speed. Together these equal time; time to move forces and sufficient supply over the connection before it’s found and destroyed. Then there’s space; as your vanguard force widens their bridgehead to find, fix and push the enemy further from the river, as well as gaining and securing additional bridging sites for your bridge to move to – standard doctrine for “pulsed” bridge ops varies with army, era and situation, but every two hours is the one I’ve heard – gain the space before then, lest you run out of time. And of course the last aspect of war, force. When the King of war is pitched against something as delicate as an aluminum float, the results are inevitable. Attack helicopters must roam far and wide, hunting down and destroying enemy artillery, and should they open up on the bridgehead your tubes must be firing counter-battery before the first enemy shell has even landed.

In other words, river crossings are friction, and like any other friction, overcoming it depends on mastery of the same operational elements that dictate any other military action – time, space and force. If you cannot control space, if you cannot buy time, if you cannot apply force, you may muddle on when things are going your way, but when a real test comes you will pay, and you will pay in blood.

And that’s exactly what is happening to the Russians.

Friction Bleeds Force

Ukrainian forces are blasting Russian bridges left and right, when they’re not ambushing the bridgeheads. They’re setting up bridges inside Ukrainian artillery range and leaving them there till they’re found and destroyed. They’ve got all the drones and attack helicopters anyone could ask for, but still can’t keep their major forward tac-air bases from being plastered, much less conduct effective counterbattery before MLRS nails their bridgeheads and scoots away. They have a shortage of infantry dismounts for conducting aggressive patrolling and while they’ve some tactical vehicleborne EW systems they’ve no man-portable jammers to counter the small backpack drones they themselves employ and should have been expecting. Nor have they adapted their tactics for the reality of a war where both sides have good frontline ISR due to a surplus of drones and a paucity of effective EW counters. From what little footage of their own operations they’ve released, they fire precious (bulky and costly to ship) MLRS rockets (unitary warhead, no less) to engage single squads, rely on laser-guided munitions when attacking stationary targets, and are apparently using their TOS-1 thermobarics more often against targets in the field than against cities, which they instead pepper with frag-only sub-munitions. And on top of all that, even if they learn to properly protect their supply convoys their movements will still be given away by the same hilarious lack of secure communications capability that’s already seen one Russian general slain by a prompt Ukrainian artillery strike, making it unlikely they’ll be able to surge sufficient vehicles over a bridge fast enough. And even when they do they stop and are promptly shelled by accurate Ukrainian tubes instead of keeping on the move.

And there’s a lot of rivers in Ukraine – in the south and eastern areas especially. They are big and small, and while the small ones can be crossed more simply with a vehicle-launched bridge, they also tend to be found where rivers split and wind, and as the snowmelt continues and spring precipitation starts in earnest those wet marshy areas will become veritable bogs, requiring road building with materiel they did not bring and cannot efficiently collect with tools they do not have – how many chainsaws did they pack, if they’re issuing expired rations and ERA bags without the ERA?

Wherever there is friction this story repeats, and the Ukrainians have committed heavily and fully to creating as much of it as possible.

And only going by what we have actually seen, verified, and counted as destroyed, the Russian’s loss rates are clearly unsustainable. Even if you posit that the Ukrainians are losing forces – both personnel and equipment at similar rates – it still won’t save Russia, as the attacker is always the one facing more friction. Hence why attackers must mass more something to win; they need to overcome the built-in friction defenders can generate, especially defenders in their home territory. They’re bleeding force fast, time is not on their side, not with their nation embargoed by a world that’s gleefully pouring money and resources into their enemy’s unassailable rear areas, and they are gaining space so very, very slowly.

Blyatkrieg Redux

Now that we have the full story of the battle of Voznesensk we can appreciate Blyatkrieg in all its moronic glory, with the bridges completing the picture. When that single BTG was first reported has having dashed up there I saw it as another attempt at a stolen march, the “blitz” part of the blitzkrieg they were going for; rebuffed in part by defense in depth ( Territorial Defense Forces and mobilized reserves garrisoned nearby) and a very tenuous supply line (TDF + Mykolaiv in artillery range of their MSR.) And subsequent operations explicable by recon; the same reason vehicles were running around singly or in twos earlier on; compensating for a lack of aerial ISR as they searched for a good crossing point over the Bug for follow-on forces.

Instead, we know know, this single BTG attacked Voznesnsk rigorously for two days, and a combination of local Territorial Defense militia, on-the-spot civilian volunteers and resistance and regular Ukrainian forces (including a small SOF recon element with Javelin missiles) completely crushed them. All this, apparently, to try and take a bridge that had already been destroyed. One-fourth of their personnel killed (perhaps) and a staggering 30 of 43 vehicles (assuredly) destroyed. They did not properly assess the situation and use their mobility to retreat to friendly forces. By the time they realized they were outmatched they had already been routed. Whatever unit that was, it’s combat-ineffective now.

Given this, the claims of an entire BTG being rendered combat-ineffective near Izyum scan true. Plenty of things in the WSJ article scan true to what we’ve seen elsewhere – Russian soldiers looting for food, prompt and accurate Ukrainian artillery and effective counterbattery, and now – a bridge the enemy apparently needed worse than we could’ve known at the time. Even with the paucity of information and the skew every account will have, a pattern’s emerging and it’s undeniable. And now it’s clear why the Russians are advancing so very, very slowly in the south.

A modern “map recon” of the southern and eastern (Donetsk) fronts, using google Street View to put overhead imagery into context, makes one realize that the Ukrainians can defend this terrain, especially against an enemy channelized by roads and mud. Water is frequent in this terrain, and it tends to coincide with habitations, settlements, and treelines. There is cover, sometimes very good cover: berms of irrigation channels reinforced with concrete, sunken ground, low brick walls that seem popular in Eastern Europe, etc. No matter how wide the fields are, there’s plenty of places that will slow an advance; obstacles that require tactical acumen to suppress, negotiate and/or bypass without taking undue casualties or sacrificing momentum, acumen the Russians demonstrably lack. They must have the roads, and that makes them, moreover, predictable; allowing Ukrainian defenders to predict their second and third options for advance. The road is always ambushed, the easy way is always mined, and the hard way is through close terrain bristling with RPGs.

The loss of operational momentum also affords the defenders time to entrench, made easier by massive civilian support and fighting in their home territory – their earthmovers are on-hand and come with trained, motivated operators, unlike the enemy which must bring everything with him. Because the Ukrainians will also be practicing limited “scorched earth,” they’re aware the Russians are seeking to capture in-situ supplies. I doubt a gas station is left in the occupied territories with a drop in its tanks or, failing that, intact. They can, and are, making the Russians bleed for every inch, even in the most favorable terrain the enemy could ask for.

How To Win

I’ve never formally studied the operational science of war, but what I sense of the art says this enemy – unable to mass cohesively against single points, operating with divided forces lacking internal lines of communication, unable to maneuver cross-country, and unable to maintain operational momentum when faced with complex barriers – should be attacked, ruthlessly and swift.

But the mud takes no sides, and the brutal math of attrition is clear. The only reason Russia’s making any progress on the southern and eastern fronts is a better supply situation; multiple road (and most essentially) rail links; one each through Crimea and multiple from Dontesk. Additionally there’s no TDF militia to gnaw upon their lifelines in Dontesk due to eight years of occupation.

I earlier said that the Ukrainians would soon have to make a choice as to where to commit their reserves; especially the three reserve tank regiments we’ve yet to see or hear of as conclusively committed to action. I was half right. They will need to choose, but nowhere near as soon as I thought. Russia bleeds for every kilometer taken; and while operational momentum was spent long ago they still lose everything as they advance tanks, artillery, (due to consistently excellent Ukrainian counterbattery) pontoon bridge sections, supply trucks, and LOC efficiency (more distance through hostile territory teeming with TDF.)

It’s entirely possible the enemy will eventually shatter themselves on this bulwark and the timing of counterattack will be dictated more by their collapse than by road conditions. In addition to the hints of a Russian operational reserve being committed to Izyum this morning brought evidence of VDV units fighting there as well; and yet the area remains contested and the enemy assault stalled. If these units cannot break through, than who? Even if the Russians retain combat power they’re unlikely to achieve a breakthrough that maintains the momentum needed to encircle and isolate the Donbas flank. This is exacerbated by their strategy – due to having occupied Donbas at their back and Mariupol mostly occupied, they have sufficient lines of communication to rapidly shift forces from Dontesk to the southern front. (The rail yard in Mariupol is north of the city proper; have they no counterbattery at all?) If they drove up through Velyka Novosilka or Huliaipole they could cut Ukraine in two; perhaps even invest Zaporizhzhia and Dnirpro’s eastern sides; use the Dniper’s chokepoints against the Ukrainians. Instead they batter against the eastern flank; attacking into Rubinzhe and Severodonetsk directly when all their force should be against Lyman and Popansa, avoiding urban areas that negate their advantages and enhance their enemies’.

So, Ukraine can and should wait till ground conditions allow freer operational maneuver. The enemy slowly learns, but many crippling problems (lack of reliable and secure communications) remains, and others will get worse (i.e. high leadership attrition, available engineering assets etc.) The enemy has divided his forces among multiple fronts that must work along very long external lines of communication. The question now is how to use Ukraine’s internal lines of communication to isolate one part of these forces and annihilate them. These are the options I can see:

1. East of Kyiv. Russian forces in the northwest are densely massed, very close to their base of supply in Belarus, and already digging in for siege. With Chernihiv and Kyiv still Ukrainian this force’s path around the Dnieper is long. Combined with their substandard ISR it should be possible for Ukrainian forces to cross the river south of Kyiv – e.g. at Cherkasy – and drive north for an attack at Prylucky. Motorized regiment(s) could hold the terrain around Ichnya, where it’s highly favorable for defense, and the armor could turn west and attack; crushing Russian forces against Kyiv and Chernihiv as anvils. The usefulness of this depends on how many BTGs are there to be destroyed.

2. North out of Kharkiv, pushing north of Sumy as far as possible to cut supply lines (leaving blocking forces behind for this purpose) then west. There are few good roads leading north into Belarus in this area and the main ones go through Chernihiv. I am not schooled enough to grasp if this scale of maneuver is more suitable than possibility #1 given the forces involved but if the Russians are still dispersing three whole divisions through this area to secure their lines of communication, this seems doable. It could be combined with a lesser commitment to #1 (or perhaps a drive up through Romny to Konotop) to constrain enemy maneuver, preventing them from massing forces and allowing the Ukrainian counterattack to defeat them in detail. (This could also be the main axis of the assault; benefiting from more distance from Russia proper.)

3. A breakthrough at Nova Kakhovka. UMoD stated today that Russian forces are shifting regular troops out of Kherson and substituting police forces instead; most likely to both pacify the population and to exploit the benefits of urban defense to free up badly needed military units for other fronts. Nova Kakhovka is a much smaller town and the bridge runs atop a dam; a much harder structure to demolish. Blocking forces could move south and cut off the police units in Kherson while the main force grazes Melitopol (hitting the airfield and rail yard there, with massed long range fires if possible,) then driving to Tokmak and on, seeking to drive Russian units against the southern defensive line. This could be combined with a drive south from Dnipro, but splitting forces like that is very risky.

There are other possibilities – such as a drive from Kharkiv through Kupiansk and Starobil, or an encirclement of the main force northwest of Kyiv – but they are insanely risky and would depend on a careful weighing of factors that require information only the Ukrainian general staff has. As it stands, these are the possibilities that seem most probable to me. I welcome the input of anyone who has more education in the Science and experience in the Art; obviously, you have my email.

#ukraine #russo ukrainian crisis #russo ukrainian war

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tennessoui · 3 years

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this is probably too many prompts lol but uhhh obikin: #6 meeting at a coffee shop au; #24 literally bumping into each other au; #40 exes meeting again after not speaking for years au (i'm a sucker for breaking up and getting back together again lol); #42 star-crossed lovers au; #48 meeting again at a high school reunion au

hi!! you probably forgot you sent this at all and I wouldn't blame you in the slightest. I'm pretty sure someone else already asked for 24, 40, and 42, so I wrote #6 instead! warnings for this one: bittersweet in that both anakin and obi-wan are sad, also the author is sad, also this takes place in the midwest in america (this is the first fic that is obviously set in america!!! wow!!)

6. Meeting At A Coffee Shop Diner AU (1.9k)

“Have a seat anywhere you want,” the hostess tells Obi-Wan without looking up from her phone.

Obi-Wan blinks and then looks around the deserted seating area. “Thank you, uh.” She’s not wearing a name tag.

“Angel’ll bring you the menu and take care of you, thanks for coming in,” she says, glancing up at him and then away.

Well then. Obi-Wan reminds himself that customer service isn’t everyone’s strong suit, that she might have had a rough day, that he’s here for the quick food on his way through town, that his ego isn’t fragile enough that he needs to be led to a table with a smile.

The restaurant is almost completely deserted. There’s two truckers eating their weight in bacon and eggs at the counter, and a family of four seated around a table, resolutely picking at their food instead of talking to each other. And then there’s Obi-Wan.

He chooses a booth by the window, one that overlooks the absolute nothingness of midwestern American scenery. If he cranes his neck, he can probably see corn.

God, Obi-Wan’s sick of seeing corn, and he’s only been in this part of the country for a few hours. He needs to go right through most of it to get where he’s headed. He’s not sure how he won’t die of boredom.

The thought sends a pang through his chest. It’s too soon to think of death even in an offhand way. He taps his fingers on the cover of his leather journal, before a line of dark brown under one of them catches his eye. He studies his hand critically.

It’s been two days since the funeral. Surely he wouldn’t still have grave dirt under his nails. Surely things like that wash away eventually.

“Hey,” a voice says from in front of him. A man is turned around and kneeling up in the booth in front of Obi-Wan’s, leaning over the garishly red vinyl of the empty seat with a menu clutched in one hand. His hair is short and dark blond, an undercut with a long fringe settling over his forehead. He has a nice sort of smile, one that looks genuine but doesn’t touch his eyes. Obi-Wan notices how long the man’s neck is and how predominant his collarbones appear in the loose white shirt he’s wearing, before he forces himself to focus only on his face. “I’m Angel,” the guy says, passing over the menu. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

Obi-Wan accepts it gingerly. It looks like something that’s perpetually sticky. “Water is fine,” he says politely. “Thank you.”

“Will do,” Angel salutes him and ambles away. Obi-Wan watches him go before shaking his head to rid himself of any sort of thought, and opening the menu.

It’s standard food fare, of course. Breakfast options served all day if anyone were to come in and request them. Lunch and dinner options are also served all day, probably for the same reason: a diner like this can’t afford to turn anyone away, even if they want a hamburger at nine in the morning.

A glass of water clinks down onto the table next to him, making him look up at Angel, who’s looking at him curiously.

“You ready to order?” he asks, even though Obi-Wan is still very much looking at the menu and it’s also only been a few minutes at most since Angel gave it to him in the first place.

“Do you have any suggestions?” Obi-Wan asks politely. “I’ve never been here before. What’s good?”

“The water,” Angel says and then laughs like he’s said something funny. Obi-Wan finds his own mouth curling up at the sound. Sometimes people’s laughter is contagious, like a yawn.

And then Angel says, “You’re not from around here, are you?”

“No,” Obi-Wan admits. “North of Boston.”

Angel whistles, like Obi-Wan has said something impressive. “Boston, huh? What are you doing all the way out here?”

The pit in his stomach intensifies. He does his best not to look at his nails and the grave dirt that might still be under them. “Driving,” he finally says. “And are you...from around here?”

Angel’s eyes grow distant for a second, and when he focuses again on Obi-Wan, they’re cold. “Born and raised,” he tells him flatly. “Never got out.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan doesn’t know what to do with the sort of bitterness in Angel’s tone. It complements his own well enough.

“If you like eggs, I’ll put you in for the house special omelette,” Angel declares suddenly, all business again. “It’s four eggs, tomatoes, peppers, cheese. The usual.”

“What makes it special?” Obi-Wan asks, closing his menu and setting it down on the table in front of him.

“For you?” Angel drawls, “I’ll watch the cook to make sure he doesn’t get any egg shells in it,” and then he winks, holding out his hand.

Naturally, Obi-Wan shakes it. Naturally, Obi-Wan realizes a second after feeling Angel’s warm, calloused rough palm against his own that the man had meant to take the menu from Obi-Wan.

He can’t remember the last time he’s blushed this red, but he is absolutely regretting everything about this road trip. God, he’d pay money just to be able to leave now.

He should get in his car and drive back to Boston. It had been a stupid idea to come out here anyway, a result of stir-craziness and a desire to outrun the death of his father.

And now look what he’s doing. Shaking hands with his handsome waiter, as if he isn’t thirty-nine and perfectly aware of social norms.

Thankfully, miraculously, Angel laughs and this time it sounds real. “It’s okay,” he tells him, reaching out to pick up the menu.

Luckily for everyone involved, Obi-Wan finds it very easy to laugh at himself. “Well. It’s nice to meet you, Angel, I’m Obi-Wan.”

“I’ll go put the order in,” Angel says, “Obi-Wan.”

He’s back within five minutes, sliding into the seat across from Obi-Wan. So much for no eggshells in his omelette, but he can’t bring himself to be disappointed. There’s something magnetically fascinating about Angel. He’d like to know more.

“So you’re driving?” Angel asks, picking up a thread of conversation from several minutes ago. “Where are you going?”

“I was thinking of Alaska,” Obi-Wan says. “I’ve--I’ve always wanted to go.”

“You’re driving from Boston to Alaska?” Angel whistles, raising his eyebrows in shock. “I think the gas money alone would cost me two months of work.”

Obi-Wan shrugs. It’s not like he makes much himself as a teacher in Massachusetts. “My father was a lifelong gambler,” he discloses without really knowing why he’s telling this to a stranger. “He came into a bit of luck near the end. A bit of a fortune as well. And when he...died, I inherited it and his house.”

Angel touches his hand softly. “I’m sorry,” he says. “When did he pass?”

Obi-Wan huffs out what might be a chuckle. “A week ago, actually. It’s summer break in Massachusetts--I’m a teacher--and I suddenly had nothing to stay for, for a bit. It was either leave for Alaska or find some other way to cope.”

He runs a hand--his free hand, the one Angel isn’t touching--over his beard as he gives the man a rueful smile. “Dad always wanted me to see more of the world.”

“My mom was the same way,” Angel leans forward to tell him, as if it’s a secret. Obi-Wan feels like it is a secret, that there’s something delicate and fragile in the air. Something that matches whatever emotion is filling up Angel’s eyes. “Always telling me to leave, go get famous, go get happy, come back and tell her about it.”

“You didn’t?” Obi-Wan asks, his chest tightening at the thought that the man before him could be unhappy.

“I couldn’t,” Angel sneers, looking out the window and propping his chin on his hand. Some things must be too close to the heart to tell someone to their face. “Mom got sick. I wanted to get out, I was so close. Graduated high school, packed my stuff. I was going to go to California. To Los Angeles, really make it big.” He rolls his eyes and scoffs, as if there’s something inherently funny about the dreams he must have cherished for so long.

“Then mom collapsed going down the stairs. Just passed out in the middle of the day. Doctors told us she was sick. Then life became all about treatment plans and monitoring symptoms and getting the money for the medicines and I never left. Got a job here when I was eighteen years old, right before I graduated high school. It’s all I’ve ever known, I guess.”

“And your mother?” Obi-Wan asks, mouth dry and heart all tangled up in itself for this stranger man, for Angel with the hard, sad eyes.

“Died a year and a half ago or so,” Angel says flatly like he’s repeated the words so often in his head that the truth digs no barbs into his flesh. Obi-Wan knows that voice is a lie. How often has he looked in the mirror this past week and told himself, ‘Qui-Gon Jinn is dead’? He can’t imagine a year and a half would make the pain go away.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan says seriously, reaching across the table to touch Angel’s hand this time.

Angel shrugs but doesn’t pull away. “Is what it is, I guess,” he says. “I’ve made my peace with it. And the fact that I’ll never leave this godforsaken town.”

“You could,” Obi-Wan points out hesitantly. “You could leave tomorrow.”

For a second, a wild and previously undiscovered part of Obi-Wan wonders what it would be like, if Angel did leave tomorrow--with him. If they got into the same car and headed to Alaska together and Obi-Wan wasn’t alone at the wheel and Angel wasn’t alone in this town. If Obi-Wan could look over at the man in the passenger seat, asleep against the doorway as they crossed into Canada.

Obi-Wan wonders. Obi-Wan aches.

“I could,” Angel says, laughing once. “I guess I could. I guess I just can’t think of a good enough reason to.”

There’s a call of his name from the kitchen, and Angel stands and stretches, checking the time on his watch. “That’ll be your omelette, sir, which is perfect timing considering I’m off shift as of five minutes ago.”

“Thank you then,” Obi-Wan replies, ignoring the pang in his gut at the knowledge he won’t be able to keep talking to him. “It was nice meeting you, Angel.”

Angel’s face grows dark for a second as his jaw clenches. “That’s not my name,” he finally says, scratching at his neck with one hand. “That’s just what they called me when I started working here. Angel, like Los Angeles. Cause I told everyone for weeks this was a temporary thing, you know? I’d be going to California soon as mom got better. Guess they knew better than I did.”

Obi-Wan has never wanted to kidnap a grown man away from a place more, so he hides his hands under the table instead. “Would you tell me your name then?” he asks, wondering if he’s overstepping but needing to know too much to censor himself.

“It’s Anakin,” his waiter says, sticking his hand out, no menu to grab.

Obi-Wan takes it gently, turns it over, and cradles it between both of his hands. “Then it’s nice to meet you, Anakin.”

Maybe, he thinks as he picks at his omelette and watches Anakin shoulder his way through the front doors of the diner before disappearing down the street, maybe he can stay a day in this nowhere town. Just an extra day.

Yes, he thinks, taking a sip of his water. He’ll try the pancakes next.

#asks #my fics #not me writing this and thinking about a roadtrip fic novel length #called the summer of wound picking #where obi-wan does kidnap angel anakin/meets up with him before he goes on shift and he's like 'hey leave with me #lets go to alaska together'#and anakin is just crazy enough to accept #he leaves one of his dogs threepio with a friend #but takes artoo with them because hes littler and better trained #and they just go to alaska on a road trip #because the author really really really is craving a roadtrip to find herself right about now #obikin #wish fulfillment #pay no attention to the author trying to test out writing styles behind the screen #prompt fill

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deerixiie · 4 years

Text

24/7 ramen.

description: you are iwaizumi’s home; even if he is forced to take you to a ramen place at 2 in the morning.

pairing: iwaizumi x gen!reader

genre/warning: banter, fluff, literally just filler dialogue with an overarching plot, light mentions of violence

word count: 1.8k

a/n: this was inspired by some headcanons im going to post. oh and this is for @hajiimes... hehe <3

“I got into a fight.”

Iwaizumi paused, his phone hovering near his ear. He resisted the urge to let out a sharp laugh—of all the things, why did you have to get into a fight?—and slung his arm over his face. “And you lost?”

Iwaizumi could almost hear you pouting. “To be fair, they were-”

“But you lost.”

A pause. “Yeah.”

Iwaizumi dragged his hand across his face with a heavy sigh. “Why are you fighting people at,” he paused to squint at the digital clock on the dresser, “Two in the morning?”

“Ramen.”

“What?”

“Hot and spicy shrimp,” you said solemnly. “There was only one pack-”

“You’re aware we have finals tomorrow, right?”

“Exactly the reason why I wanted ramen.”

Iwaizumi sighed again. “Are you hurt?”

“Well, someone elbowed me in the eye-”

“The eye?”

“Yes the eye. I’m pretty sure it’s swollen, but other than that I’m perfectly fine.”

“Why do you sound so happy?” Iwaizumi asked, getting up to scour his closet for a hoodie. “You lost a fight over a pack of ramen.”

“Well technically, no one won the fight. We all got kicked out of the store. Poor guy didn’t even keep his ramen.”

“Which store?”

“Walmart.”

“You couldn’t have gone to a convenience store or something?” Iwaizumi pulled on the hoodie Oikawa sent him from Argentina and grabbed an old Godzilla hoodie from his closet.

“Haji, this is Socal, not Japan,” you condescended. Iwaizumi scoffed at how haughty you sounded. “I’m sure Socal has convenience stores,” he muttered.

“Well, Walmart was the closest.”

“You could’ve woken me up,” Iwaizumi grumbled, moving on to grab the keys off the drawer, “I would’ve taken you to a convenience store.”

“But you were sleeping.”

“So? You know how dangerous that was? I’d feel a little better if I was there.”

“Yeah, but I wanted ramen,” you sighed. “Anyway, can you pick me up, Haji? It’s getting cold.”

Iwaizumi shut the apartment door with a quiet click. “I’m leaving the apartment now.”

“That was fast.”

“Yeah, I had a feeling that you’d want me to pick you up.”

“Okay. Oh, and remember to drive on the right side of the road.”

“I know.”

“Are you sure? You almost drove into a tree last time.”

“Because I was tired.” Iwaizumi opened the door to the car, dropping the hoodie into the passenger’s seat. “Tired people don’t think straight.”

“Aren’t you tired right now?”

“No, I’ve been awake since you told me you got into a fight. You need to tell me what the hell actually happened there.”

“I told you, it was ramen,” you huffed. “There was one pack of spicy shrimp and three desperate college students in need of ramen.”

“So you fought for it.”

“I lunged for it, some other dude shoved me, I crashed into the third person, and then he was pushing them and I was on the floor and then someone’s elbow was in my eye and then the employee grabbed us and tossed us out.”

Iwaizumi took a moment to process your words. “You sound proud of yourself.”

“I’m not. I didn’t get the ramen.”

“No one got the ramen,” Iwaizumi deadpanned. “Isn’t that what you said?”

“I mean yeah, but now I can tell people I’ve been in a fight.”

“Why would you want to tell someone you’ve been in a fight?”

“I dunno,” you sighed. “I’m tired and hungry. Tired and hungry people say weird things.”

“Damn right.”

“That was an insult.”

“It was.”

“Ouch.”

Iwaizumi didn’t respond, lightly drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as he waited for the red light to turn green.

“My eye hurts,” you said suddenly, your voice crackling from the phone’s speaker.

Iwaizumi furrowed his eyebrows. “Does it hurt a lot?”

“No,” you decide. “Ramen would make it better.”

“So now I’m buying you ramen?”

“Yeah.”

“At 2 AM?”

“It’s 2:28 now.”

Iwaizumi scoffed.

“I found this ramen place that’s open,” you said. “24/7 Ramen. It’s 25 minutes from here.”

“Why is there a ramen place open for 24 hours?” he muttered, half to himself.

“It’s probably run by college students. That’s why the name is catchy too.”

“Catchy?”

“It sounds like a song. You know, 24 Karat Magic by Bruno Mars.”

“Never heard of it.”

“What?” Iwaizumi found himself flinching, despite the fact it was simply your voice coming from his phone’s speaker. “How have you been living in America for two years without ever hearing 24 Karat Magic? That song is a classic.”

“I think you’re forgetting you’re speaking to a guy born and raised in Japan.”

“Haji, you’ve been here for two years. That’s 24 months. 48 weeks. And a certain amount of days I’m too tired to calculate.”

Iwaizumi thought for a moment. “730.”

“730-” you paused. “How the hell did you calculate that so fast?”

“Dealing with stupid people makes you smarter, I guess.”

“No, ramen makes you smarter.” You sighed. “I really want ramen.”

“I heard.” Iwaizumi turned the steering wheel, bringing the car into the Walmart parking lot. “And I’m here now, so you can stop whining.”

“Oh, I see you. Do you see me?”

There was a figure sitting on the front curb, waving erratically in Iwaizumi’s direction. “I see an idiot waving at me like their life depends on it, so yes, I see you.”

“I think being around stupid people makes you grumpy,” you grumbled.

“No, having to pick my significant other up from Walmart at 2 in the morning makes me grumpy.”

You responded by scoffing and hanging up the phone. Seconds later, you were sliding into the passenger seat of the car. “Aw, did you bring a hoodie for me?” you asked, glancing down at the Godzilla hoodie that you almost sat down on.

Iwaizumi glanced over to you, raising an eyebrow. “Hello to you too.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned forward to press a quick kiss to Iwaizumi’s cheek. “Hi, I love you, thank you for picking me up. Happy now?”

“I’m ecstatic. Yes, that hoodie is for you.”

You smiled, pulling the hoodie on over your shirt and relaxing into the seat. Iwaizumi carefully looked over your face. The only noticeable injury was the ring of darkness around your eye—did they really elbow you that hard?—and a slight cut on your upper lip, but those would heal soon. He let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“What, is there something on my face?” you asked, reaching up to brush your fingers over your cheek.

“You have a black eye.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Damn. Is it bad?”

“No, not really.” He checked the dashboard for the time and slightly frowned. “Where’s the ramen place?”

24/7 Ramen was a small convenience store in between an optometrist and a cigarette shop. On the outside, it wasn’t much. The name of the store was illuminated in large flickering neon letters. The exterior brick walls of the store were dusty and crumbling with age and wore. The windows were covered with assorted posters and papers, some for missing children, upcoming movies, and advertisements for Japanese snacks.

“Oh, so this is like a Japanese convenience store then?” you asked, looking at one of the Japanese ads. “I guess you were right.”

“Told you.”

“Just come on and buy me my ramen.”

The door opened with a familiar chime that reminded Iwaizumi of warm yakisoba buns, tangled with the sight of preppy school uniforms, and of course, Oikawa Tooru. The layout of the store was straight out of Japan, overwhelming him with countless reels of tender highschool memories. If he closed his eyes he could see himself standing right there, bag under his arm, Oikawa at his shoulder.

“Feeling a little nostalgic, huh?”

His head whipped toward you standing behind him with an amused smile on your face. “This place does have a Japanese feel to it.” You raised your eyebrow in that insufferably adorable way of yours, and Iwaizumi found it hard to breathe.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets as a flush began to form on his cheeks. “Be quiet.”

You hummed but made no other comment, instead choosing to shoot him another knowing look that made his blood roar in his ears. You started moving through the store, picking cups of ramen off the shelves. He hovered behind you, still embarrassed about his nostalgic moment—was he that homesick?—occasionally picking up cups of ramen and examining them before placing them back onto the shelf.

After what seemed like ages, you presented your armful of ramen cups with a proud smile. “I’m done.”

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “I’m not buying you 15 cups of ramen.”

“But you promised-“

“Each one is like, 65 cents? I’ll buy you 5, max.”

“Why not more?”

“I’m just as broke as you are.”

You sighed in defeat. “Being broke in college sucks.”

“I told you we should’ve held off on getting a car.”

“But I wanted a car!”

“More than you want ramen?”

“That’s- that’s an unfair comparison!”

Iwaizumi continued to go back and forth with you, even as you paid for the ramen at the cash register. You were in the middle of a frantic explanation of why investing in a car was important in California when you finally made it outside.

The air was still and cool, save for the slight breeze that occasionally tangled in Iwaizumi’s spiky locks. The only sounds were the distant cars speeding across the road and the faint sound of crickets chirping, for you had both fallen silent after leaving the convenience store. Iwaizumi turned to look at you: one eye swollen, upper lip bleeding, a plastic bag full of convenience store ramen clutched tightly in your hand. He could see the fire in your eyes, that odd determination to make your own dreams a reality, no matter how fickle or ridiculous they were. It was similar to the drive he saw in Oikawa’s eyes, he realized. The reckless, worthless one that seemed to be a double-edged sword.

Maybe that’s why whenever he looked at you, he felt like he was at home.

“I love you, you know that?”

You cocked your head to the side and smiled slightly. “Where did that come from?”

He shrugged and stuffed his hands into his pockets again, turning away from your curious gaze. The corners of your mouth pulled up into a faint smile. Without warning, you turned Iwaizumi toward you with your finger and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. And then you were bounding off toward the car, the plastic bag jostling in your hand.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi called, starting after you. “Come back here so I can kiss you properly.”

“I want my ramen!” came your response from the car. “No kisses until I get my ramen!”

Iwaizumi chuckled softly. You were annoying and feisty, but you still managed to make him feel right at home.

taglist in reblog; please comment/reblog with comments in the tags or in the post if you enjoyed!! i love hearing your feedback :)

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi x gn reader #iwaizumi oneshots #iwaizumi scenarios #iwaizumi imagines #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gn!reader #haikyuu x gen!reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu #haikyuu writing #haikyuu oneshots #hq #hq writing #deerixiie #does anyone understand the 24 karat magic joke

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hetalia-has-a-secretary · 3 years

Note

Axis and Allies when they run in to their s/o who just dipped out one day 7 years ago with no warning or explanation, except she’s a mom now! And hey that kid looks... uh... kinda familiar... and they’re how old now?

(Basically Axis and Allies find their ex and meet their child who is a dead ringer for their country parent)

Mmmm angst *slurps the spilled angst off the floor*

Ffff- I need to come up with reasons as to why their S/O do this~ (• J •;)

Oh and C/N means Child's Name.

Allies and Axis see their S/O with their kid of 7 years.

Allies:

America:

His S/O ran into him on their way home, and the store they were in had something extremely specific they couldn't find anywhere.

So they took their chances, not really expecting to see America again.

But they did, and it was a long pause in silence.

S/O could physically how hurt he was, but the sight of a child, even if it was obviously his, made him turn around to walk off.

His S/O didn't know what to expect, but him walking away was not one of them. They picked their kid up and went after him.

"Alfie- He's yours..."

He stopped in his tracks, eyes already red, but scrunched in confused anger.

"Why didn't you tell me? After all this time... Why?"

His S/O walked closer to him, not wanting to stir up unwanted attention.

They explained that they were scared their lives wouldn't work out. They were worried he'd be so busy traveling and enjoying life, a new family would weigh him down.

Giving another hard swallow he went to walk away, only for the kid to be eyeing him from his S/O's shoulder.

Neither of them meant to act like this in front of the kid, but none the less America found a way to console them, promising to do what it takes to show how much he cared. About both them, and their child.

Even if it took a few akward phone calls.

England:

His heart shattered. Standing right across the road was his S/O.

And in a spur of the moment he ran across beeping traffic, and stopped barely 10 steps away as he notices the kid.

Part of him hated the fact they ran off, and was happy they crossed paths again. The other part of him wondered if running across a busy road was worth it.

He looked at his S/O, then at the kid, silently asking if it was really his.

A quick nod from his S/O and he immediately knelt down to talk to the kid, making his S/O tear up.

"Hey kiddo. I'm... You must be S/O kid right? I'm an old friend of theirs... My name's Arthur..."

The kid looked up at S/O for approval to interact with this 'stranger', to which they agreed.

"Hi... I'm C/N... How are you?"

England had to fight back tears at this point.

"I'm doing good... Very good. It seems S/I taught you well, you're very polite..."

The kid nodded, saying thank you.

Only later did he find out that his S/O left, thinking he wouldn't want a kid, and it was going to ruin the relationship.

From them on he did everything he could to make up all the lost time, silently worrying over why they'd think he'd wouldn't want a family with them.

France:

He was brutality heartbroken the day they left. Like, this is a HUGE no, no to do to him.

At first he thought they were missing, but when it finally became clear they just left him, he got really cold.

Right up to the point of seeing them in public, on the streets.

Eyes locked, and his S/O expected him to be romantic about, fully preparing to reconnect.

Not what happened. He walked up to them, a crunched up face, obviously smitten with them.

"Why are you showing your face around my home?"

Pain on both sides of the party. His S/I wouldn't be able to get a word in as he assaulted them with questions and accusations as to if they even loved him.

Only when the sound of a small kid calling out for S/O did France freeze.

He was shocked, and looked at his S/O wise eyed.

His S/O gave a vague explanation.

"I'm sorry... But I wanted to raise them outside of a busy city. I told you were I was going to be, didn't you get my letter?"

He shook his head no. Watching his S/O silently cry in front of them.

And in one forgiving swoop he held them close, tears falling from his own eyes as he gave apologies.

After he was done with his S/O, his child was next, he spun them around, immediately repeating the fact he was their father, making the child giggle as well.

China:

Even though he felt close to his S/O he got over it quickly, also being use to people leaving him for whatever reason.

He never expects relationships to last.

But seeing a familiar face, I should say familiar faces, standing at his door made his heart pond, and ache all at once.

He wanted so badly to hold them, but he needed answers.

S/O ride broke down near by, and they needed a place to stay. This was the only place they could think of.

Once the kid was put to sleep, both adults doing an amazing job of keeping their cool, things started to unravel.

He asked about the kid, and why they left. Being told his S/O was simply a bit overwhelmed finding out they were pregnant, so they decided to leave made him almost laugh.

To him it was a ridiculous reason to leave, so he was the one to ask them to stay.

Russia:

He did not do well when he realized his S/O wasn't coming back anytime soon.

He felt their relationship was at its peak, only for them to disappear? Yeah, not going to happen.

His S/O might think they were better off but Ivan, had other plans. He wanted to know why. Was there someone else involved, more specifically.

He hired people to watch them, and when he learned there was a kid involved it angered him. He had to fight every nerve to not go find his S/O himself.

Only when he saw the kids eyes, a brilliant purple, did it click for him.

The reason why they left didn't matter, and he gave them time to change there mind.

When those 7 years past (if even) he went straight to where they were, demanding answers.

His S/O had to explain they were scared having a child around could complicate things. Especially when Ivan himself was trying to change as a person.

That news turned his anger into hurt. He wanted nothing more than to be family with his S/O, and having a kid as well? He already made vows to change, so he became a little more self aware after this event.

He went great lengths to learn about parenting, to the amusement of his S/O.

Though he won't admit it, he is kind of bummed out over the fact he was never able to hold his own kid as a baby.

Axis:

Germany:

Heartbroken wasn't the word to use.

He got a bit more, pig headed for a month or so, but got over it. Assuming it just wasn't meant to be.

However, after seeing a child that looked like a splitting image of him hanging on his S/O's hips said it all.

He literally walked up and straight up asked if the pregnancy was the reason they left.

His S/O sheepishly agreeing.

He gave a sigh, asking them if they'd still be interested in being together.

From there the next few months were spent patching up their relationship.

Japan:

He had to be convinced several times, to leave his room.

Eventually he moved on, but still missed them

So the look on his face when he finds them at an old restaurant they use to meet at, was quite the look.

He cursed himself for the sensation of meeting for the first time.

It was like his body moved on it's own. Up until he spots the kid. Then he tried to backpedal.

Not Because he wasn't happy about being a father (possibly), but he wasn't ready for the news.

He only got so far before his S/O called out his human name. To which he froze and turned around with a bright red face. Obviously understanding the situation.

Surprisingly enough the three of them seemed to connect and get along like it wasn't a super akward moment.

He almost all forgot to ask about why, but saved that question when C/N wasn't around.

He was glad to hear it was just because they were scared. Now he's more than happy to try again, and actually kind of excited to teach this small being about anime... And life things but mostly anime.

Italy:

He's the kind of guy to never get over it.

Even though he's fine on the outside, literally everything I'm his home reminded him of S/O

The amount of whiplash he experienced when finding them in his home town made his skin crawl

To him, it was like seeing a ghost, and it was honestly a bit much. Especially with the tiny clone of him.

Naturally he fainted on the spot.

Later on, in the hands of a medical staff, he and his S/O had a long conversation about the why's, and how's.

His heart still sunk hearing the reason they ran away, was because they didn't want to take away his freedom.

Thing is, his S/O was his freedom. So he listed all the reasons why. Freedom to be him, freedom to admit his fears when others would laugh at him.

They were his source of strength, and safety net. So yeah, he wanted them back. Kid was an added bonus.

#hetalia american #hetalia england #hetalia france #hetalia china #hetalia russia #hetalia germany #hetalia italy #hetalia japan #hetalia world stars #hetalia #hws #aph

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puppypeter · 3 years

Text

✨ All fics are complete! ✨ A mix of fics set around schools/colleges where at least one character is a teacher, student, professor etc (but this might not be necessarily the main focus). Will definitely be adding more in the future or making a part 2 as I read more :) As always, Mind The Tags! Barnes & Rogers And The Goddamn Truth | 18945 words

There are three well-known facts at Shield High:

1. The history teacher Mr. Barnes is a stone-cold terror, and it’s not even because he only has one arm. 2. The other history teacher, Mr. Rogers, is a mysterious enigma, and it’s something to do with the body of a Greek God and contradicting stories of his past. (They’re all rumours, anyway.) 3. Mr Barnes and Mr Rogers hate each other.

Bucky wouldn’t have it any other way.

Quarantine 101 with Dr Rogers (And The Husband) | 5575 words

Like every university professor worldwide, Dr. Rogers of NYU is adapting to online classes during quarantine.

It is during this time that Dr. Rogers' students discover their professor's stunningly beautiful husband and other key aspects of his private life that is usually kept locked tight.

Acute Case Of Fate | 9708 words

Since his accident, Bucky seems to spend more time in the school clinic than in his actual classes. One day, he strikes up a conversation with the only person who seems to be there more than him: Steve Rogers.

Do Not Meddle In The Affairs Of Grad Students (For They Are Caffeinated And Quick To Nerd Out) | 46222 words

As a student returning to finish his bachelor’s degree and pick up the scattered pieces of his trashed life, Bucky has a few problems: he’s nearly ten years older than the other students, he has lingering pain from shattering his arm, and his Tolkien-obsessed roommate Steve Rogers is way too hot for his own good. If Bucky's going to get through this degree and get his life back on track, he cannot afford the distraction. Nope. No way. No distractions.

It Takes Two To Pine

College AU

The Soldier and The Mountain | 110765 words

This is a story about recovering from rape, society's apathy toward victims of campus assault, and one man's trial to escape an abusive relationship in a world where men are painted as the batterer. When James Barnes, professional dancer, starts realizing his long-term boyfriend isn't interested in a healthy relationship, he meets Steve Rogers, one of his boyfriend's victims and a soon-to-be-graduate from NYU. Their friendship seems impossible, but maybe they are what the other needs to start clawing out of their traumatic pasts. The road is long and arduous, but recovery always is.

The Role We Are Cast In | 6963 words

Bucky Barnes loves his daughter just as much as any man ever did. He expected to be the most important man in her life for a lot longer than 5 years old, when she comes home to tell him that her teacher is Captain America, shrunk down in a Nazi plot. But the war is over, and Bucky's got a bum arm and a job working in the office of the docks he worked as a lad, and he really doesn't give it too much thought.

Do You Like Boys? | 24830 words

Bucky is just trying to do some grocery shopping when he gets cornered by a little boy asking him questions about his relationship status and gender preference. He is then dragged to the next aisle where he meets the little boys father a blonde looking adonis. Bucky doesn't hate it.

The one where Bucky Barnes is a hot dad and Steve Rogers is an elementary school teacher | 9867 words

Steve Rogers is in his early 40s and hasn't dated anyone in years- not since the war. He has no interest in dating. His life is devoted to teaching elementary school.

He finds himself getting attached to a particularly smart, quiet girl who he is sure is ahead of the class. He decides to have a talk with the girl's parents about her exceptional intelligence and her antisocial tendencies.

What he doesn't know is that she is the child of single father, fellow war veteran, James "Bucky" Barnes.

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thewildomega · 3 years

Text

Broken but not Shattered Ch.13

Looking all around the unfamiliar place you held your bag to you as you walked through the station. Just where the hell were they? Growling when you got to the entrance and found no one there you sighed. So much for meeting you here.

"Can I help you there miss, you've walked through here several times now."

Glancing to the station workers when he spoke to you, you stiffened. You couldn't exactly tell the no-maj that you were supposed to meet your parents here instead of taking a portkey or Floo back to your home in America . Nor how you had no way of contacting them or vise versa because witches and wizards didn't use phones. When he walked closer to you with his brows raised you swallowed hard.

"Are you lost? I can call the police and they can help you get sorted out."

No not the police. Then you really would be in a mess. Quick think of something. "Spinner's End. I need to get to Spinner's End."

Coming to a stop in front of the young woman he rose his brows. "You want to go to Spinner's End?"

He sounded skeptical. "Yes. M..my friend lives there."

"Ugh-huh." Looking over the girl he let out a sigh. "Spinner's End is in Cokeworth, there is a bus that will take you there and from the stop you will want to go the whole way down, last street before the river."

Grinning you nodded. "Thank you sir. And ugh... when does the next bus leave."

Sighing and adjusting his footing he looked to his pocket watch. "The next one will go out in a little over an hour."

"Alright then. Thank you again." Quickly walking away from the man you moved out front to sit on the bench. Looking over the city you sighed. It was a nice looking city, maybe one day you and Severus could walk around and he could show you some of the places. Feeling eyes on you you cast a sideways glance to the right and saw a few sketchy men looking your way. Clearing your throat you crossed your legs and reached into your bag to pull out your book. Might as well read until the bus gets here.

You weren't expecting the bus ride to take so long and when you stepped off along with only one other person you had to stretch your back from where you had been sitting so long. It was nearly dark now and you bit your lip as you looked around the strange place lined with brick homes that were pretty much all alike. Lily lived somewhere here, you recalled her saying she lived in Cokeworth. You would think about finding her home but well she hadn't really went out of her way to talk to you all school year. The one time she had been paired with you in divinations she had quickly shut you down when you tried to talk to her about Severus. No it was best to find your alpha, you only hoped he was home.

Walking down the streets you watched as the lights came on as the sun started going down. Reading over all the street signs you kept your eye out for Spinner's End. Making your way down to the river which you saw was extremely polluted, you looked down the road and saw the streets lamps there flickering, only a few working at all. Turning to the sign you walked over and sure enough that was it. Making your way down the road that had many potholes and dying grass growing up in between cracks you licked your lips. You didn't exactly know how you would find Severus's home, you didn't know the number but you did have one trick up your sleeve. Focusing on that pulling feeling in your heart you walked along the run down houses. Glancing from one to the other you startled when a hackling cough sounded from your left. Ignoring the woman who eyed you like you were trespassing you took a deep breath. About midway down you felt that pull leading you a different way and blinked. Turning to the left you saw the same house as the others, this one having a trash can out front with the lid partially on. Titling your head a little you swallowed hard before making your way to the front door. Making sure your hair and clothes were in order you took a deep breath as you raised your hand and lightly knocked three times on the door.

There was no answer or sound from the other side, the whole street deathly quiet. Looking down you felt your hopes dwindle and let out a sigh as you moved to step off the platform but before you could take that step the door was opening. Turning around you straightened up when you saw a woman standing there. She was a medium height woman with a thin build and long face. Her hair was inky black and instantly you knew where Severus got it from. Her brown eyes looked very solemn down at you but still you smiled nonetheless.

"Can I help you?"

"Hello ma'am my name is Y/n L/n. I.. well I was wondering if I could see Severus."

"You go to school with Severus."

"Yes ma'am." Watching the woman nod her head before she turned to look back inside the home you felt your nerves eating at you. Feeling the start of rain you glanced up to the dark sky.

Looking back to the female she sighed when she saw it was raining. "Come inside."

Seeing the woman open the door for you to step in you thanked her and saw her nod again but not say a word. As she called out for Severus you looked around the home. It was small, like really small. The floors were wooden and the walls mostly bare except for the bookcase that held so many books it looked like the old shelves would crumble. As far as furniture went there was an old couch that looked higher on one side than the other, an armchair that had seen better days and a small end table with a full ashtray on it and a lamp. The doorway that was open led to what you guessed was the kitchen by the small amount you could see through the crack. The home was very dreary looking and smelled old, damp. When the creaking of old floorboards caught your ears you looked to the small staircase to see familiar long legs making their way down. he obviously wasn't expecting to see you as his eyes went a bit wide and his lips parted. "Hi." you greeted with a smile and wave. "Long time no see."

"Yo... you are here." quickly making his way down the stairs he came to stand in front of his omega. "Why are you here?" he questioned, still trying to process her being in his home.

"Long story, not too sure myself actually." you shrugged. "I did get to take my first bus ride though... not something I care to do again."

Blinking he glanced to his mother who was standing in the doorway to the kitchen looking to them. Clearing his throat he took Y/n's hand in his and turned to his mother, pulling his female into his side and placing his hand on her lower back. Looking down to his love and then up to his mother he took a deep breath. "Mother this is Y/n... my mate."

You saw the woman's eyes go wide for a second before the returned to their normal look, he had not mentioned you before. While it did make you feel a little hurt you quickly shrugged it off, knowing Severus was a private person. When she turned her eyes from her son to you, you smiled again.

"Y/n, this is my mother Elieen." Watching her walk closer to them he kept he stood tall and watched silently as his mother looked his female over before the smallest of grins came to her face, something he had not seen in many years.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Y/n. You are American?"

"Yes ma'am."

"You look familiar"

"Well my mom said that you and her went to school together, Leatha l/n or well Macmillan back then."

Humming she nodded. "Yes that is what it is. Your father is American then?"

"Yes ma'am, she moved to Montana with him when they were married."

"I have not seen her since we graduated."

"Yea she doesn't really come back here that often. She did say that she would like to have dinner together one day."

Nodding she looked to the female "Perhaps." Glancing to the clock and then to her son she blinked, "Your father will be home soon. Today is Saturday."

Watching the woman walk back into the kitchen after that you furrowed your brows some before looking up to Severus, noticing his lips were set in a straight line. "Sev?"

Taking a deep breath he dropped his eyes to her blue ones and blinked. Seeing confusion in her eyes he lifted the corner of his lip to give her a small grin before pulling her to the couch. Moving her to sit on the side that was in the best shape he took her bag from her and sent it to his room.

"Show off." you said wanting to make him smile just a bit.

Chuckling lightly he looked around the room before rubbing the back of his head, "Um would you like some tea?" he asked. He had never had anyone over to his home, in fact he wasn't sure this place had ever welcomed a guest. When she smiled softly at him he nodded. "I will be right back just stay here alright?" when she gave him a small nod he made his way into the kitchen, shutting the door back behind him. Seeing his mother at the table, reading with a cup of coffee in front of her he sighed and moved around to make his darling a cup of tea with the help of his magic.

"She seems nice."

Snapping his eyes to his mother as the tea steeped he licked his lips. "She is." There was silence for a few more moments as he grabbed the only other clean cup, wiping it out just in case, and moved to pour her tea.

"A Macmillan... do they know what you are?"

A half blood. "Her parents do yes." he answered and heard her hum. That was all of the conversation. Walking out of the kitchen he carried her cup and pulled the door back closed as he moved over beside her on the couch, seeing her eyes looking over the dusty books.

Taking the cup when he held it out for you, you smiled at him. "Thank you."

Looking her over he noticed her hair was a bit wet but then again it was raining out, other than that she looked fine. "So are you going to tell me what happened? Why you are in England and not America."

Swallowing the tea in your mouth you hummed and looked to him. "I don't know. I had said goodbye to you and was on the way to the Hog's head Inn to use Mr. Dumbledore's floo when this owl dropped a letter in my hands. It was from my parents, something about them having errands to do here in London and how they were staying at some place called the Leaky Cauldron and that they were going to pick me up at the station. I ran back to the train and just did make it on in time but when I tried to find you one of the prefects pretty much shoved me into one of the compartments which just so happened to have Alice and Frank in it."

Raising a brow he saw her nod.

"Yea. I guess it could have been worse."

"And then?"

"And then when I got off the train I still couldn't find you or my parents and I got lost, this no-maj train worker kept watching me and asking questions, saying he was going to call the police so I quickly told him I was trying to get to Spinner's End... because I remembered that's where you said you lived. He told me to take the bus which was horrible by the way and so now I'm here."

Humming he thought over everything she had just said. "You are sure your parents said they were going to pick you up there?"

"Yes but they weren't there, I walked around that place like four times and then waited around for a long time they never showed up."

"So what are you going to do now?"

"I don't know probably just go to this Leaky Cauldron place and see if I can find them there."

"Well the Leaky Cauldron is back in London."

"Of course it is." Humming you gave a large smile when a idea popped in your head.

"What?"

"You could always just Apperate me there."

Smirking he looked down at he with a raised brow. "Using me are you darling?"

"No but if you don't want to that's fine, I will have to just catch the next bus and deal with the No-maj men trying to talk me into going home with them for a fun time."

His smirk instantly fell, a deep frown with tightly knit brows overtaking his features. "What?" he growled and watched her drink more of her tea but not say a word. "You are joking."

Humming you grimaced, "I wish I was."

"You are never riding the...." before he could finish his sentence the front door was opening and he stiffened.

Looking over to the door you saw a man hurrying in out of the rain that looked to be stopping. You only saw his back for a moment as he shut the door and noticed he was wearing a pair of dirty navy blue pants with a white button up shirt and suspenders. He had short dark brown maybe black hair and as he turned to you, you saw his face was shaved and he had a cigarette in his mouth. As two familiar black eyes looked to you, you saw one of his brows raise.

"Who is this? Why is she here so late?"

Swallowing hard he stood from the couch and looked to his father. "This is Y/n, my girlfriend." Seeing the man look to him through his always lidded eyes before he looked back down to his female he felt anxious.

Puffing on the cigarette before he removed it from his mouth he stared over the girl, looking her over from head to toe as she stood beside his son. "Girlfriend huh, didn't think you would be able to get one of those."

Feeling your brow twitch you masked it, taking Severus's hand and looking to his dad before smiling. "Well he did, that's me." you spoke trying to lighten the mood. Taking a deep breath when the man's face remained the same you gave another smile although this one was harder to hold, "Like Sev said my name is Y/n, Y/n L/n, it's nice to meet you sir."

"You're American." he spoke and heard her hum softly, continuing to study the girl he put his cigarette back between his lips. She was cute, he would give his son that but it still didn't account for her being in his house. "You a witch too?" he huffed

"Yes." you answered, stroking the back of Severus's hand when you sensed him becoming irritated.

Looking back to his son he blinked and breathed in his lung full of smoke. "When did you get back?"

"Well considering this is the first time you have seen me in seven months I thought it would be obvious." Seeing Tobias's eyes narrow at him he stood tall.

Biting down on the tobacco he caught sigh of something on the table and noticed it was his cup, filled halfway with his tea. Snapping his eyes back to his son he let out a puff of smoke before turning and walking into the kitchen.

As soon as his father was out of the room he turned to her, he had seen the look in his father's eyes, a look he knew all too well. "Come on." Pulling her towards the stairs he stopped when he heard his father call for him in his deep voice. Licking his lips he took another breath. Leaning down to speak into her ear he closed his eyes. "You go up to my bedroom and you close the door. You stay there, do not come out no matter what you hear."

Furrowing your brows you looked up to him "Sev?"

"Do as I say." Hearing her barely audible gasp at the tone he had spoke in he knew she understood that he had given her an order. He hated doing it but he knew he had no choice.

"SEVERUS!"

Tensing he ran his nose up her jaw, breathing in her scent for a moment to help give him strength. "Up the stairs and to the left. Go now and stay quiet." When she nodded slowly he let go of her hand and watched her make her way up the rickety stairs. As soon as she made it to the top he hurried over and grabbed her tea cup, swallowing the rest of it down and walking to the front door. Opening and closing it loud enough they could hear he took his wand from his pocket and cast a concealment charm towards his room. Taking a deep breath he walked into the kitchen and was instantly struck so hard he stumbled slightly into the oven.

"You come the first time I call you boy!"

Standing back straight he looked up to see his father's angry face starring at him, his mother still sitting at the kitchen table ignoring all around her like she always did. Sitting the cup on the oven he heard as Tobias lit up another cigarette.

"You think you can bring your little whore into my house and give her the tea I pay for?"

Snapping his eyes up to the man he glared at him. "Do. Not. Call. Her. That." he growled but the air was quickly knocked from him when his father's fist collided with his stomach so hard he felt sick.

"Who the fuck are you talking to?!" he roared. "Every year it's the same with you, you get back from that damn freak school and you think you're mister high and mighty. Well let me tell you something you fucking chav..."

Sitting on Severus's trunk that was tucked into the corner of the small dingy room with your knees pulled up to your chest, you had to cover your mouth to hold back your cries as you listened to what was going on bellow you. With every slam, thump and yell you felt more tears roll down you cheeks and across your fingers. There was an awful pain in your heart, the pulling more intense than you had ever felt but you could not move. You had to stay in his room, your alpha had given you an order and had to follow it, you had no choice. When a pain filled groan that you could not mistake for anyone else but your beloved floated up through the old floorboards you felt your heart shatter.

"Where did she go?! She needs to see what a pathetic skiver you are! If the bitch is smart she will find a real man!""

Stiffening when you heard the No-maj man yell you felt your eyes go wide as he started stomping his way up the old stairs.

"S.ssshe l...left!"

Severus's voice, it sounded so pained. Hearing the boots coming up the stairs you held your breath as the door slammed open, your hand gripping your wand. Seeing the horrible man walk into the room some and look around and then to you, you shook with fear but when his eyes only narrowed and did another sweep of the room you furrowed your brows. Did he not see you? Then it clicked, Severus. Hearing Tobias huff as he turned around and left you listened again as he walked down the stairs.

"Elieen!"

Hearing a scuff on the floor and then footsteps, one heavy and one light you breathed slowly.

"Clean up this mess boy."

The slamming of another door downstairs was heard and then the house fell silent. Sitting on the trunk, your whole body shaking, you waited and listened but heard nothing for a while. You wanted to call out for him, for your alpha but the fear that his parents were still here stopped you. A small thump and then another forced your body to tense up again and you waited to hear more yelling but none came. Spaced out footsteps slowly sounded on the stairs and the closer they got you could also hear what sounded like labored breathing. As the door pushed open slowly again from where it had swung shut some you jumped up from the trunk when you saw it was your Severus. "Sev."

His whole body hurt but he still relished when she hurried over to him, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. Standing in the middle of his room he slowly moved his arms around her, resting his sore cheek on the top of her head and closing his eyes. He would have been happy to stay like this for a while but all too soon she was pulling away and he heard her gasp.

Feeling more tears fill your eyes as you looked at the man you loved you shook your head lightly. How could a parent do this to their own child? You didn't know if his mother had been a part of it but even if she hadn't she had still allowed it. "Sev.."

"It's alright." he spoke, trying to assure her. Opening his eyes some he saw her crying and shaking her head. "Darling..."

"No. This is not alright, this is not okay." you told him, your voice thick with emotion. "We have to tell someone, we have to..."

"No Y/n." Swallowing hard he looked down at her and tried to stand more straight. "Three months. I only have to put up with it for three more months and then we go back to Hogwarts for our last year and then I am free." Seeing the way she was frowning at him he sighed. "Love I have been putting up with this my entire life, I can take three months more."

Still frowning you looked away from him, closing your eyes you took a deep breath. Without a word you walked out of his room and across to where you had seen a bathroom. Glancing to the cabinets you started going through them until you found a washrag. Turning on the tap you waited until the water turned hot which took a bit before wetting it and wringing it out. Walking back into his room you shut and locked his door. Spinning around you saw him standing where you had left him, his eyes quickly lifting to yours. Seeing him look down to the rag in your hand and then go to speak you quickly cut him off. "Hush."

Snapping his mouth shut at the tone of her voice he allowed her to pull him over to his bed, sitting on it when she gave a small push. Feeling her lift his chin and tilt his face to the side before she went about cleaning the no doubt bruise there he gave a small wince but said nothing.

Dabbing gently at the small cut along his cheek bone, neither of you said a word. Once that one and the one along his jaw was clean you glanced down to his body and licked your lips as you dropped your fingers to the buttons of his shirt. He seemed to stiffen a bit when you started undoing his shirt but with one look from you he dropped his eyes back down and allowed you to do as you wished. Helping to ease his shirt off his shoulders you hard to swallow hard at the lump returning in the back of your throat when you saw the deep colored bruises already forming on his ribs and stomach.

Reaching up to cup her cheek he brushed away her tears with his thumb. "Shhh... please do not cry my girl. You know it hurts my heart to see you cry."

"Yea well it hurts my heart to see you hurt so." you whimpered and saw his head tilt some and his brows furrow.

Sighing he pulled her to him by her shirt hem, spreading his knees so she could stand directly between them. Hugging her middle he laid his head on her chest, "It is not that bad darling.." Hearing her scoff he grinned sadly, "Truly it is not." And it wasn't. He had endured worst, so much worst, like the time he had woken up hours later on the floor, barely able to move for the next week. "Having you here with me makes up for any pain."

Taking a deep breath you sighed softly and wrapped your arms around him, threading your fingers through his hair after a bit. When he decided he wanted to lay down you quickly followed him as his hand pulled you down onto the old bed with him once the both of you had kicked off your shoes. Laying beside him you scanned your eyes over his handsome but beaten face, your fingers tenderly stroking his jaw and neck as he just seemed to stare at you.

There wasn't much light in his room, just a small ray where the distant street light was and then the occasional strike of lightning from where it was now storming outside. Still he was able to see her enough, watch her lashes flutter when she blinked slowly, watch her beautiful feral blue eyes roam over his own face. Dropping his eyes to her lips he felt that craving ignite. Oh how he loved those luscious lips, the way they looked, the way the felt, the way they tasted. Not being able to help himself any longer he dipped his head to kiss her.

Spreading your hand so it laid flat against his bare chest, you kiss him back with just as much passion. When you feel his tongue ask for entrance you are quick to grant it, opening your mouth for his warm muscle to explore. Rolling your tongue in time with his you felt his hand move to your hip, pushing under your shirt to rub your skin with his hand. You loved the taste of him, loved how it made you feel slightly dazed. The first time the two of you had made out like this you had wanted nothing more than to keep your mouth connected to his forever. However this time you were feeling a bit more held back and you knew why. That damn amulet around your neck. It's pressure grew in times like these and you knew it was the magic trying to hold back all the true desires and feelings you were supposed to be experiencing with your alpha. Feeling Severus's hand move to your lower back to pull your body flush to his you breathed in sharply through your nose when you felt his obvious arousal push into your thigh. As the amulet became almost like a weight you broke from his mouth.

Snapping his eyes open he knit his brows. "Y/n?" Going to question what was wrong, if he had done something wrong the question was quickly answered when he saw her pulling the leather cord over her head. Blinking he swallowed hard, "Luv I don't think..."

Freeing your hair from it you dropped the accursed thing to the floor and instantly pushed your lips back to his, cutting him off. Hearing him breath in before he let out a small growl, his hands moving to pull you back to him you smirked around his mouth. Rubbing your own hand up his chest you couldn't hold back the small mewl at being able to taste him fully again.

Kissing down her chin and along her jaw he felt that need for more taking over. As his mouth moved down her neck he started placing open mouth kisses accompanied by small sucks and light nips along her skin. When her shirt collar suddenly blocked his way he growled and tugged on the thing. Lapping at his claiming mark he gave a slightly harder bite making her gasp softly. All too soon though her shirt was in the way again and the alpha in him had had enough. Grabbing the hem he began pulling it up.

Getting the hint you helped him remove the article of clothing from your body, watching out of the corner of your eye as he tossed it somewhere behind you. You thought he would go back to kissing and sucking your neck but his eyes were stuck on your chest, you were happy you had decided to wear your black bra today.

Admiring her chest he licked his lips as he leaned forward to kiss along her collarbone, flicking his tongue out to trace her throat. He could feel her hands on him, rubbing his side and gripping his shoulder. Kissing his way down her sternum to the middle of her breasts and then over each as much as he could with her bra on he rubbed his hand up her hip and around to her back. Nipping at her soft mound he heard her gasp softly again and chuckled softly. Trailing his hand up her spine to the clasp of her bra he unhooked it, taking a few tries to do it successfully. He waited for her to ask him to stop but she didn't so he slowly rubbed his hand up her arm to pull the strap from her shoulder. Rolling her to her back so that her bra could be taken off easier he felt his mouth water when he was finally able to see her breasts with his own eyes.

He stared at your chest for some time but he must have learned his lesson from last time because he was soon dipping his head down to kiss, lick, do anything he could do with his mouth to give your breasts attention.

Peppering her fleshy mounds with kisses he closed his eyes and felt his cock harden even more, if it were possible. "Oh my beautiful, stunning girl..." Getting to one of her nipples he first licked at the nub with the flat of his tongue and grinned a little when he felt her flinch. Opening his mouth he took the whole of her pert nipple into his mouth and gave a suck. Bringing up his arm that wasn't holding himself up he cupped her other tit, gently massaging it in his palm.

Gasping softly your eyes slipped close and your head fell back to the thin pillow in bliss. When his hot mouth sucked at your nipple and bit down gently you couldn't stop the soft moan from leaving your lips but as soon as you realized what you had done your eyes went wide and your hand moved up to cover you mouth.

Hearing her moan had to be one of the sweetest sounds he had ever heard and it in turn caused a low growl, purr like sound to rumble in his throat. Kissing across her chest to give her other nipple the same treatment he was confused by the muffle sound to this moan and looked up. Seeing her hand covering her mouth with her eyes closed tight and a blush about her cheeks he knit his brows. Reaching up to grab her wrist he pulled her hand away from her mouth and pinched her nipple between his teeth. Hearing her let out a noise that was a moan and whimper together he pinned her wrist down beside her, looking her in the eyes when she tried to pull it away from him. "I want to hear you." he told her, licking over where he had just bit.

Still embarrassed by the noises he was bringing out of you, you tried to hold them back still but he seemed to take this as a challenge and soon he had you gasping and moaning from the work of his mouth. Crying out at one particular hard suck you looked down at him as he pulled away, watching him lap over the area to sooth the pain away.

While he loved her breast the alpha in him was persistent to have more of his omega and in all honesty he wasn't much trying to hold the urges back. Peppering her chest and neck with kisses he moved his one hand down to the button of her pants. Easily unbuttoning the jeans and slowly pulling down her zipper he lapped at his claiming mark. Tracing the top of her knickers with his fingertips he grit his teeth and took a deep breath, giving her the chance to tell him to stop. When she said nothing he kissed over her neck and back up her jaw to find her lips. Slipping his hand into her pants he let out a low growl at the wetness he found there.

Moaning into his mouth when he began touching your most intimate place you gripped his bicep harder. When his finger slowly entered you, you had to break from his mouth to gasp out. Tilting your head a bit as Severus kissed along your neck and throat you heard him growl low and deep.

Slowly working his finger in and out of her he sucked at her neck and grinned when her fingers clung to him. "Does it feel good darling?" he asked and felt her nod. Smiling he continued for a few moments more until he removed his hand from her pants and pushed himself up to kneel on the bed. Grinning at her when he saw her worried look he pushed his fingers in the waist of her jeans and peeled them off. Dropping them to the floor he looked over her bare legs and licked his lips as he reached out to rub them. She was so soft, her skin was smooth and he couldn't get enough of it. Stroking his hands up her legs he saw her watching him and grinned softly. Dropping his eyes to her last item of clothing he felt the alpha rattling the bars. Hooking his fingers into the black cotton he eased them down her legs, her knees staying bent as he removed them from around her ankles and dropped them to the bed behind him.

Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest and you were sure your face was as red as a tomato. He hadn't said anything, his hands going back to rubbing up and down your thighs. When one of his hands rounded your knee to caress the inside of your thigh and gently urge you to part your legs you swallowed hard. You looked anywhere but his face as your legs were placed on either side of him, giving him full view of your body. Feeling his hand return to stroking your legs, inching their way further south you closed your eyes as that warmth spread throughout your body.

"You are so bewitching my love." he praised as he took her all it. His cock was now throbbing but he wanted to take this slow, savor their first time.

"Not really fair that I am the only one naked." you spoke softly.

Seeing her avoiding his eyes he chuckled softly at her bashfulness. "Then I shall even the odds sweetheart." Rubbing up to her knees he pulled his hands away from her for a moment so that he could unbutton his own pants. Pushing both down to his knees he saw her eyes glance to him before she quickly looked away when she realized she had been caught making him smirk. Leaning over her he saw her eyes look up to meet his as he kicked off his clothes. Stroking her cheek with his knuckles he stared into her mesmerizing eyes, what they were about to do hitting him. Licking his lips he pressed his forehead to hers, "Are you sure you want to do this? We do not have to Y/n, I do not want you to feel pressured into anything." While yes he wanted nothing more at the moment he would stop, he would force himself to stop if she wasn't ready.

Taking a deep inhale of his scent you let it out in a shaky breath as you looked up at your alpha. His eyes were closed and his black hair was falling down around the both of your faces like curtains. Brushing his jaw with your fingertips you smiled and let them move down his neck and over his collarbone so you could wrap your arm under his to hold his shoulder blade. "I want this. I want you, to be one with you." Kissing lightly over the bruise along his jaw you grinned. "So long as you promise it won't bother you that I'll no longer be a virgin when we are married."

Chuckling he lowered his body to hers and peppered her cheek with kisses. "I think I will be able to forgive you if you can forgive me." Hearing her light giggle he looked down at her one last time and took a deep breath, her untampered scent making his brain cloud with haze. "I love you."

Smiling softly you looked into his lustful black eyes, "I love you too."

Feeling his heart swell he dipped his head to catch her lips in a kiss. Deeping the kiss to distract her moved the arm that wasn't holding him up down between their bodies so that he could line the head of his member up with her sex. He could not stop the low growl in his throat as her warm wetness coated his sensitive head. Ever slowly he entered her and felt her tense slightly under him. When the two of them broke from each other's mouth he grit his teeth at how tight she was around him.

At first it was an odd feeling, a pressure invading your body but then suddenly something stuck you and you gasped.

He felt her tense but he thought it was only her adjusting so he continued in, his own pleasure clouding his mind for a moment. Then however he heard her let out a cry of pain and he stilled. Looking down he saw her lip trembling and a tear roll from her eye causing his heart to constrict. He was such an idiot, a selfish idiot, he had been so caught up in his own pleasure that he had forgotten about her. He knew women had hymens and he had just tore hers, no wonder she was in pain. "I am sorry, I'm so sorry my love." he said, placing kisses over her cheeks and lips. Keeping completely still he let her adjust to his girth. "It is alright darling. It will pass. Shhh." he told her gently and felt her nuzzle her face into his neck and hold onto his back. Purring for her to help sooth her he rubbed her hair and continued kissing her face. He waited until she softly whispered that she was ready before he pulled back almost completely out of her and agonizingly slow rolled his hips forward. Feeling her tense a little he quickly purred and kissed her neck.

When Severus took one of your hands with his free one to hold it down by your head, lacing his fingers with yours, you felt the pain easing away. All too soon you felt pleasure overtaking the pain. Holding onto his back you felt your mouth fall open when he thrusted in a little deeper this time. Each time he pulled out and rolled his hips back into yours he let his cock go deeper inside of you until soon you felt his lower half meet yours. Moaning when it rubbed against a sensitive area inside of you you let your eyes flutter close.

He groaned and grunted with every thrust of his hips. She was so perfect, she fit him like she was made for him. Kissing her neck and over his claiming mark, he caged her in with his body and felt the alpha in him now bending the bars. Sucking on her soft skin he growled when her walls tightened around his cock. He wasn't going to last long, not with the way she was squeezing him.

Whimpering when an intense pressure built in your pelvis you dug your fingers into his back. Kissing him back as his mouth found yours again you wined for something although you didn't exactly know what only that your mate could give it to you. Severus thrusted into you only a few more times before that pressure became too much and it felt like something in you snapped. All you felt after that was a pleasure like you had never felt before.

Hearing his omega make the most seductive noises sent him spiraling over the edge without warning. With a loud grunt he pushed in as deep as he could and filled her with his seed. A sharp pain on his neck made him tense but it didn't stop the immense bliss he was feeling, if anything the alpha in him seemed to relish it. Holding her tightly he growled into her shoulder and lazily rolled his hips, riding out the last of his climax. Soon she went limp under him and released his flesh, feeling her lightly lick over the claiming bite he now realized she had placed on him. He hissed as he pulled out of her. Rolling beside her before his body could fall on her, he pulled the covers over them and helped her to cuddle up in his side with her head on his chest. His bed wasn't big, it barely fit the both of them but it just meant they would have to be closer. Breathing heavily he looked down at her and smiled softly, she was sleeping. Lifting his heavy arm to brush the hair out of her face he noticed the slight red stain to her lips when the flash of lightning filled the room and grinned. Now they truly were bonded mates. The bite was painful now that his high was dwindling down but he didn't mind. Settling down he drew patterns on her back with his fingers "I love you, my omega."

....................................

Waking up early the next morning he opened his eyes and blinked away sleep. Seeing only a small amount of light coming in through the window he knew it had to be around six or so. He had woken once last night when he heard the front door close downstairs and the sound of his mother and father making their way up the stairs. From the stumbling sound he knew his father had been drinking and held his breath when he got on the landing of the stairs. To his luck though they had simply went to their own room, the sound of the door closing making him relax.

Feeling a pressure on his chest and side he glanced down to his omega and smiled when he remembered what had happened last night. She was still nude now, her arm thrown over his body with her legs wrapped around one of his and her cheek on his chest. How he wished they could stay like this forever but he knew they couldn't. He also knew that he needed to get her out of his house before his parents woke up, more importantly his father. Taking a deep breath he gently rubbed her back and bent his head to kiss her forehead. "We have to get up my girl." he told her in a low voice but saw her only nuzzle his chest more, contempt on sleeping in. Sighing he brushed back her hair and hugged her to him. "I know you want to sleep my love but we can not. Come on darling I have to get you to the Leaky Cauldron remember?"

Whimpering you tightened your hold on him and heard him sigh out your name. Forcing your heavy eyes open you looked across his room before raising your eyes to his. "We make love and now you want to kick me out."

Frowning he kissed her pouting lips. "I do not want to but I have to get you out of this house before my parents wake up. It will be the only time, I promise you dearest the next time we make love I will shower you with all the care and attention you deserve." Kissing her once more he rubbed her shoulder. "Come on now darling."

Sitting up you winced and so did he but you knew it was from two different reasons. Sitting on his bed with the thin blanket wrapped around you for a moment to get your barings you watched him get dressed, enjoying the view but furrowing your brows when you saw the bruises that spotted his body from where his father had beat him. When he came to you with your clothes in his hands you grinned sleepily at him.

Helping her dress he swallowed hard at the sight of the love marks on her body and the few on her neck. Her father was going to skin him alive. When she moved to pull on her pants he grabbed his wand and pointed it to the hickies on her neck. Healing them the best he could he used a concealment charm on the rest of them. Crouching down to help her put on her shoes he froze when he felt her brush his hair to the side to and lean down to lick over the bite she had placed there last night. Breathing out slowly he closed his eyes for a moment.

Kissing your claiming mark tenderly you smiled at him when he lifted his eyes to yours. Wrapping your arms around his neck when he finished tying your shoes you both took a second to take in each other and all that had happened. Kissing him slowly you felt your heart throb with the love you felt for your alpha. But all too soon the both of you had to get on with the day and he stood back up, holding out his hand for you to take.

Grabbing her bag and putting it over his shoulder for now he looked around the room to make sure she had everything. Quickly catching sight of the amulet just under the bed he moved over to grab it for her. "Do not forget this."

Fixing yoru hair as he slipped the leather cord back over your head you looked down at the amulet and furrowed your brows.

Seeing her look he knit his brows, "What is it?"

Opening and closing your mouth you tried to think on what to say. "I..." Something was different, it was like that weight was no longer there. Come to think of it the stone wasn't even shining anymore. Taking a deep breath you shook your head and looked up to him. "Nothing." Seeing him still looking at you you took his hand. "Ready?"

Nodding he wrapped his arms around her and focused on the Leaky Cauldron before aperating there. Releasing her as they arrived he looked around to see not many people there yet this early in the morning.

"Can I help you two?"

Looking over to the woman you grinned. "Good morning. I am supposed to be meeting my parents here, L/n."

"Ah yes, room four my dear."

Nodding and thanking the woman you turned to look back to Severus with a sad grin. "As much as I would love for you to stay I don't think my dad is going to be very happy when he finds out I spent the night with you last night."

"Nor the fact he can smell me on you." he added making her blush.

Standing there for a moment you looked up to him and the bruises on his face. Bringing your hand up to cup his cheek you furrowed your brows. "Sev I can talk to my parents, I know they will let you come stay with us this summer if they knew."

Shaking his head he placed his hand over hers. "No Y/n. I will not burden your parents."

"You're not a burden..."

"No." Taking a deep breath he took her hand in his. "My father is going to get me a job with him at the mill, as much as I despise the thought of working in the muggle world I am going to take it." Seeing her confusion he grinned. "If I work this summer then I will be able to save up some money for when we finish school. If I can keep my grades up all year then I will graduate with honors and then I will be able to get a good job and rent an apartment or somewhere. Then we will get married and start our life together, the life we have talked about."

Smiling with a mixture of happiness and sadness you looked up to him. "Then I will save up my money from the bar this summer too." Seeing him grin you squeezed his hand. "Promise me you'll write, I know you won't be able to come see me as much with both of us working but you have to write."

Pushing his hand into her hair to cup the back of her skull he pulled her to him and kissed the top of her head. "Everyday my love." he promised her. Closing his eyes he breathed in her scent, it wasn't blocked like it normally was but he just figured was the leftover scent from where they had sex. Hugging her close he dipped his head to kiss her lips. "I love you my girl, so very much."

"I love you too Sev. Always."

Smiling he kissed her one last time. "Always."

Standing on your toes to kiss him again you pulled away and saw him stand there for a moment watching you as you made your way to the stairs. Blowing him a kiss you saw him smile before he was gone.

.......................................

That had been the last time you had saw him, or at least your Severus. That wonderful night of passion had been one of your last moments of happiness before everything went to hell. He himself had changed so much in those three years, no longer was he the man you remembered. But you wouldn't think about those events now. No, you wanted your last thoughts to be of him, of the man you loved so deeply. How you wished the plans the two of you had would have become reality. What you wouldn't give to go back to that last moment and change things for the better. But alas you couldn't and this would be how your story would end. Swallowing more of the blood coming up you used your last remaining strength to glance down to your frozen hand. Snow had fallen to cover most of you in a thin sheet but still you could just barely make out the small vial in your hand. Always. If only it were true. Feeling a few last tears roll down your cheeks you struggled to keep your eyes open, "I..llove..yyou..sssevv."

Then there was nothing.

.....................................

Bursting through the door to the run down home he looked around as he panted for air. It was pitch dark inside, the only light coming from the full moon. The agonizing pain in his chest had stopped now, leaving him with only a cold emptiness where his heart was. Swallowing hard his chest heaved as he looked around, running from one room to the next. "Y/N!?" Hearing no response he ran up the stairs three at a time. Checking all the bedrooms and even the bathroom he found them empty as well. Growling he gripped his hair and pulled. Just where the hell was she?! She hadn't been at the bar, he had checked all the bodies and none of them were her but there was so much blood and her wand had been there. Checking her old nest just to be sure he found it empty, only dust laying there. "Y/n?!" Bending over he tried to slow his hammering heart and then it hit him. Running from the room he practically jumped down the stairs and ran out of the house, not bothering to close the door.

The snow was knee deep in some places but he refused to let it slow him down. Running faster than he ever had in his life he hurried down the path towards the river. Seeing the reflection of the moon on the frozen surface he felt his blood run cold when the sight of a small figure beneath the willow tree grew closer. Even before he got to her, dropping to his knees in the snow he knew it was her. "No." She was hurt, she was hurt bad and she wasn't moving. Her clothes were torn at and ripped in some places, the black material sticking to her side. Snow had fallen on her telling him she had been out here for sometime. There was bruises and cuts along her beautiful face along with blood staining her lip and chin. Reaching out for her he hissed when he felt how cold she was. "Y/n?"

There was no answer, she didn't make a sound and he felt his heart drop. Cradling her in his arm he cupped her cheek "Y/n look at me. Open your eyes." Swallowing hard he moved his head to her chest and let out a sob when he heard nothing. "NOOO! Y/n wake up! Y/n you look at me right now, that's an order!" She made no signs of life and he couldn't stop the agonizing sob to fall from his mouth nor the tears that were now running down his cheeks. Hugging her to him he kissed her frozen cheeks and cried. Opening his eyes he caught sight of something in clutched tightly in her hand. The vile he had given her, his promises to her. Crying out he closed his eyes tight and nuzzled her. "Please! Please my love, don't leave me again!"

When the smallest of whines met his ears he stiffened, that emptiness in his chest dulling just a bit. Pulling back he stared down at her and saw she was still not moving. Licking his lips he looked down to her, watching her carefully. "Omega?" It took a few seconds but he heard it, that weak whimper that told him his mate was alive. Knowing he had to act quickly or else he might loose her entirely he stood with her in his arms and took a shaky breath. "That is it my darling, you hold on, you keep fighting." Apperating to just outside of the gates he ran with her in his arms towards the school. It should have came as no surprise to him when he got to the front entrance to see Dumbledore and McGonagall there.

"Good heavens what happened?"

"Hurry inside get her to the hospital wing."

He had planned on doing that anyway but he said nothing as he hurried down the hall with the other two professors right behind him. When the doors opened he assumed it was Dumbledore's doing and quickly moved to lay her on one of the beds. Slowly pulling away from her he shook and breathed heavily, his lungs feeling like they were on fire. Before he knew it Poppy was there and he was being pulled away by two sets of hands. Still his eyes stayed on her, on the woman he loved. With the lanterns quickly being lit he was able to see her clearly and his heart clenched painfully at the sight.

"Come on Severus dear, you have to let Poppy work."

"Severus..."

He couldn't think straight, couldn't process what they all were saying, all his attention on his dying omega. This was all his fault, everything was his fault.

"Severus."

Closing his eyes he felt more tears fall from his eyes, "What have I done?"

A/n: YASSS! We are finally here, we are finally in the present! So what do we think? I know there is still a lot left unanswered but all will be revealed in due time.

Tag List: @once-upon-an-imagine @dope-shit-bro

#severus snape #severus snape x reader #alpha severus snape #alpha severus snape x omega reader #severus snape fanfiction #young snape #snape fandom #harry potter fanfiction #angst #HEAVY ANGST #Child abuse #triggering content #Smut #fluff #teenage sex #feedback would be appreciated

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years

Text

cupid carries a gun

masterlist • taglist & faq

dark!Bruce Banner x named!Reader. Rated R.

Dr. Banner is a serial killer known as the Doctor and Bailey has his soulmark. He escapes imprisonment and meets his soulmate. ~2,2k words. Serial killer fluff??

[no y/n, no 'you', no reader description, race/age/body type neutral, only first name]

This is more of a concept I wrote in an hour than an actual fic. I think it would make a good multi-chapter, but really, my hands are full now and I just needed to get this weird dream off my chest. Yes, I had a dream he was a serial killer and I was his soulmate 💀🖐🏻 I need to ease up on true crime shows istg...

St. John's was suffering a nasty collective psychosis. That would be the only logical explanation Bailey is willing to accept for the jittery, jerky way everybody is behaving. Some of it could be attributed to the armed guards roaming the halls and scaring the patients - but in America, a gun slung over the shoulder shouldn't invoke such a reaction from people.

Only select few know what these people are there for, anyways. Most hospital population is clueless, only vaguely perceiving the sense of dread those harbouring the knowledge seem to carry around. People are easily scared - the thought doesn't leave Bailey's head her whole shift.

She, however, knows exactly what is happening. She's good at her job, brilliant even, nerves made of purest steel and bedside manner perfectly compassionate and tender. It doesn't come as a surprise that she is the one that got chosen to handle the problematic, uncooperative patients.

The bar is high, and this time - neigh impossible. A man so dangerous, so volatile, it required the sheriff to dispatch their town's squadron of special forces - not that was anything but a slight setback for the Doctor. The halls of this hospital will be forever marred with their blood, will forever be haunted by the echoes of their screams abruptly cutting off with a wet squelch.

Bailey thought she'd done her part to protect the innocents. Her colleagues, young women just like her (they're not, Bailey's mind whispers), all safely locked away in a storage closet for the cops to find. There are no windows and He won't see or hear them... If they're smart.

There he is, the man everybody is savagely afraid of. He is everything and nothing she had imagined - Doctor Bruce Banner is on the shorter side, stocky and sickly pale in his hospital issue pajamas, the bluish tint to his skin contrasted by dark crimson stains of blood on the rancid green cotton of his clothes.

The axe in his hands is held firmly but clumsily - Bailey's sure it wouldn't have been his weapon of choice should he had been given one. A choice. She swallowed the unease that spread all over her determination like mold, seeing his eyes, wild and crazy, land on the crook of her arm - where his mark laid, bright red and angry, as if it had been carved into her flesh mere days ago.

"Are you, perhaps, in need of a nurse, doctor Banner?" Bailey inquired softly, fingertips shaking, as the man crossed the space between them with short, powerful strides. The woman's stance widened, involuntary shivers running through her bones at the unexpected tenderness coming from him - Dr. Banner's palms gently wrapped around her arm, warm, chapped lips touching the angry, red soulmark near the crook of her elbow.

"It's been so long since I had a nurse," the man's mutter was barely audible. His eyes, the warmest brown she'd ever seen, met Bailey's wide, shining ones, for her to discover no trace of the madness she was told should be there. Bailey smiled.

As the hospital building grew smaller in the rear view mirror, so did Bailey's anxiety, paving way to excitement and muted curiosity. Her mother always had told that fate had a way of intervening when it was needed - and her mom had oftentimes taken up the role onto herself, moving them out of the state when Bailey's soulmark began to appear on dead people's bodies, burned or cut into skin as a signature. Bailey was not old enough to understand what it meant, back then, but she'd always been a clever girl.

With her first mobile device, she figured out why her mother strictly prohibited her from speaking about it, why her mother always kept a stash of large bandaids to cover it should Bailey be required to remove her long-sleeve shirt.

Only Bailey's physician knew. She'd expected terror, disgust - or even pity, but Dr. Strange always kept his mouth and eyes shut. As Bailey grew older, blossomed into a fine young woman, she thought she saw envy leak into his chiseled features - but Dr. Strange was as quiet and cynical as ever.

As long as nobody tried to separate them, it would be fine. A small smile stretched her plush lips, hand squeezing the one holding hers with giddiness creeping into her youthful features. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed an expression of curious tranquility on Dr. Banner's- Bruce's face as his eyes stayed firmly on the road as the radio crackled static in-between songs.

"Penny for your thoughts?" The man she'd grown to crave and fear, his salt and pepper curls bouncing with every pothole the car hit; his warm hand, larger than hers by a stretch, provided comfort she hadn't known she needed.

"Where to, doc?" The woman couldn't hold back the anticipation. She wanted to hold him, to be close - closer than her small, cramped cheap car allowed them to be.

"I have some friends waiting for me," the man announced, as if he hadn't spent the last five years in a maximum security prison. Not that it mattered to Bailey - but knowing there was no way back from this, Bruce's so-called friends became a point of doubt to the young woman. The doctor noticed it, his responding smile both dangerous and comforting, all sharp canines and moist lips. "You know them, baby. Dr. Strange is a colleague of mine and Tony Stark is a great friend."

Bailey's eyebrows rose, mild disbelief caught somewhere in her trachea as she attempted to clear her throat. Her family physician and the businessman rumoured to be the largest crime boss of their side of the pond. Suddenly, Strange's long glances and penetrating stares acquired a new meaning, a sense of indignation seeping into Bailey's newly found joy. "And he never said anything," the longing, the countless nights spent studying every publicly available material on Dr. Banner, the killer surgeon that terrorised the Tri-State area burned acrid in her chest.

"He told everything to me," Bruce's remark stung if only from the fact that he'd known about her all along. "Who, do you think, pushed for your transfer to St. John's?" Bruce's smile glinted a little wicked in the meager light of passing-by streetlights as the evening sun simmered down to a rest below the horizon. "I don't actually have cancer," the second remark was more optimistic, spoken hopefully, with another gentle squeeze to her hand.

Bailey puffed out a breath she didn't know she was holding. The puzzle pieces slowly started to arrange themselves, revealing a bigger picture than the one before. She wanted to be mad - mad at Stephen, for not saying anything; mad at Bruce, for getting himself caught years prior. And the anger at her own mother, for taking away her right to stand by her soulmate, for all the countless fights and nights spent locked up in her room.

Bailey had been treated like a monster as soon as he soulmark showed up - and after so much time spent trying to show she wasn't one, perhaps, it was time to face the truth. Perhaps, it was time to show them how much of a monster she could be, if they were so unhappy before.

Gravel flew under the wheels of Bailey's beaten up Toyota Corolla, sending little pebbles to bang noisily against the bumper and the stone flower beds surrounding the driveway to a large two-story mansion. Two cars stood in from of it with two men leaning each against their own vehicle.

The shorter figure was well-dressed, suit obviously bespoke and expensive, sunglasses reflecting the headlights of her Toyota even from a distance away. The taller figure stood out with familiarity, a lit cigarette freely dangling between the finger of his gesturing hand - Dr. Strange and his long, sculpted legs, Bailey could recognise even from a mile away.

Bruce parked, killing the engine and exiting the car with a free, lopsided grin carelessly thrown in Bailey's direction. Fumbling with the lock of her seatbelt, the woman's eyes latched onto the figure of her soulmate eagerly embracing the shorter man, their reunion evidently long-awaited and happy. Stephen's coarse laugh penetrated the interior of the car as the wacky passenger side seatbelt finally let Bailey free.

Three pairs of eyes bore into her body still wearing the scrubs from the hospital - one laughing, Strange was amused; one curious - none other than Tony Stark and his shameless smirk had made an appearance at their first getaway destination; and Bruce, looking so damn proud and lovesick. The grin tugged at Bailey's lips as the presence of the other men barely registered in her elevetaed emotional state.

"Damn, Brucie-bear, lucky you," Tony Stark wolf-whistled, clapping the doctor on the shoulder and receiving a fond eyeroll in return. Those two really were good friends. "Well, I won't hold you two back from getting to know each other better," Stark wiggled his eyebrows salaciously. "We can talk business tomorrow," with that, Stark waltzed over to Bailey, snatching the keys to her car out of her hands with a quick flick of his wrist. "Can't have a car allegedly containing a runaway prisoner on my property, now can I? Don't worry, babycakes, my people will take care of it. Bruce is family. You better treat him well, or else," the river of words flowed from Tony's mouth, causing the surprised Bailey to simply freeze in place and withstand his rambling, surrounded by the smell of whiskey and Stark's expensive cologne.

Despite his easy tone and the relaxed demeanor, Bailey knew a dangerous man when saw one. Tony Stark was not to be fucked with. "Yeah," she mumbled, scampering for the trunk to take out the duffle bag she carried around everywhere - just in case. Just in case her serial-killing, incarcerated-for-life soulmate would somehow found his way to her.

Tony looked at the spectacle with amusement. "You won't need your ID, sweetheart. All of that is going to be taken care of, don't worry your pretty little head about it."

"Duly noted," Bailey couldn't help the annoyed frown at Tony's frivolousness. Her government ID was the last thing on her mind. She wasn't stupid, she knew her mother would go to the cops as soon as she saw the news. "I have my own business to attend to. Might need a hand," the realization came with the dull thud of the trunk being slammed shut.

Tony's eyebrows rose; Bruce approached her with caution, wrapping an arm around her waist from behind. "Is it urgent?"

"Her mother knows about their connection," Strange piped up, glowing ember of the cigarette flying somewhere over the car. The sound of a lighter followed immediately, another dot of shiny red standing out in the twilight. "Don't worry, Bailey, she's detained and sedated for the time being," he offered with a crooked smirk, nearly no trace of the quiet man who bandaged her boo-boos when she was a child.

"You planned this," Bailey observed, fighting the dread crawling up her spine. The realization - she will never step back, will never be able to escape this life - set in. She was unprepared, having acted on a whim, prepared to live on the run but not within an arm's reach of her previous life yet unable to resume it.

"A long time ago," Strange nodded. "You always were a clever girl, Bailey. It is delightful to finally you where you belong," he smiled at Bruce in earnest.

Bailey wondered what else was going on in the sleepy town of hers. What kind of atrocities were committed daily under her nose, by the very people she knew and trusted. There was so much evil in this world.

But not Bruce. He could never be evil, even as he cut the hearts out of the men that had been treating those around them as objects. Bruce merely made them what they should've been; the greed, the infidelity - what use did those men have for their hearts? The Doctor was merciful and true: he never caused his patients undue pain and always, always left them in a state they were true to themselves. It wasn't his fault so many of his patients were heartless beasts for men.

Those clever hands, the same hands that brought the world at his feet, brought Bailey at his - voluntarily so. Their bodies hot, impatient for each other, with their blood singing a song of lust and longing, both of them hidden from the world by the heavy velvet curtains of Tony's estate - it was hellfire in heaven.

No amount of time too long as Bruce's teeth closed around Bailey's jugular, sinking into the flesh tenderly, all the while her nails penetrated the skin of his back; both drew blood, content to drown in it and wash their sins away with it. Heaven and Hell were merely words for the two, anyway.

Bruce Banner taglist:

@couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @pilloclock @sapphicnoodle69

#dark!bruce banner #bruce banner x reader #dark!bruce banner x reader #tw serial killers #what is this even asdfgk #my followers: FORGIVE ME #please #this is so undercooked 😭😭😭

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waywardwrestlewritingwaif · 3 years

Text

Waking Up Alone

This is for my anon who requested something angsty and fluffy with El Phantasmo- hope you enjoy! The idea is partially inspired by the Cowboy Junkies song "Sun comes up, it's Tuesday morning". (I am the queen of sad lady songs, I swear.)

Pairing: El Phantasmo x OFC

Word count: 3.091

Content advisory: language, sexual references

Sun comes up, it’s Tuesday morning

Hits me straight in the eye

Guess you forgot to close the blind last night

Oh that’s right, I forgot, it was me

The morning sun feels like an assault on your eyes, punching its way through your delicate eyelids and right through into your nerves. Yeah, you definitely had a few too many drinks last night. Gin and tonic with the girls, which you hadn’t done in ages. It ended up with pitchers at the dive you’d been frequenting since you were too young to get into bars, the place that truly catered to everyone. Beer after liquor, never sicker; liquor before beer, in the clear. Why the hell had you switched from liquor to beer?

Doesn’t matter now, you think, wrestling yourself into a sitting position while protecting your eyes with a trembling hand. Wrestling yourself. You sigh a little as you consider the term that immediately springs to mind. You didn’t mention the breakup to the girls. It still feels too strange, too ephemeral. Were you ever really a couple anyway? You suppose that’s the crux of the problem. You didn’t know where you stood, so you’d estimated that you were somewhere it turned out you weren’t close to.

If Riley The Perfidious Bastard were around, he would have made sure to lower the Roman shade you’d fashioned out of an old curtain and some bamboo rods. He was always impressed at your ability to create homey touches from spare parts. Now that he’s not around, you realize how much you’d liked having your abilities praised.

If Riley were here, you’d also be waking up to the smell of coffee, the most wonderful thing in the world for someone in your condition. But there’s nothing. No rich, roasted scent, no happy, burbling noises from the machine in the kitchen. You have to get up and take care of it yourself, which you haven’t had to do in a long time. Goddammit.

You run one hand over the expanse of your king bed, the plump mattress extending almost all the way to the window. Sure, the thing took up most of the room but you didn’t care. The room was only going to be used for sleep anyway. Well, sleep and that other, delicious thing. That thing you missed so much. Well, you missed it the way that Riley had done it. If he was really gone, you were going to have a hell of a time finding someone who could make you want to spend all day in bed the way he had. You still hadn’t made your way back to the center of the bed. Somehow, your mind refused to accept that things were over. You were still making space for him.

With a dramatic effort that has no one to appreciate it, you heave yourself off the bed and make your way towards the kitchen. You’re halfway through the process of making coffee when you realize that you’re wearing one of his shirts, one of the ones with his logo emblazoned on it. You must have just reached for the first thing you could find when you got home and, of course, that would be something from the pile of shirts you’d made next to the bedroom door; shirts to be given to charity because you sure as hell didn’t want to look at them anymore. That pile had been sitting there for three weeks, the dried traces of angry tears still on every part of it, and you hadn’t gotten around to carrying everything to the donation bin less than a block away.

Coffee is more important than anything right now, so you focus on that. You also shove a couple of pieces of bread in the toaster oven. Bread and peanut butter will help ease the seething broth in your gut and allow you to concentrate on the day. Which would be even more useful if your day actually required concentration. Band practice had been pushed back to tomorrow because Kyle and Lily were off in the country visiting her parents. Sure, you could work on the guitar parts by yourself, but it’s not like there was anything to learn. You had a handful of gigs coming up in the next few weeks, mostly local, all focused on your last album. Practice was just a matter of making sure you all kept tight and maybe came up with some new ways to make the live experience a little different for people.

As autumn shifted closer to winter, it was always the quiet season. Students were running short on money, the weather became unpredictable, and going on the road became less and less lucrative the closer it got to the holidays. It was approaching that time of year when people started to nest rather than seek a mate. Or at least that’s how it was for most people. It just wasn’t that way for wrestlers dividing their time between North America and Japan. You cringe at how that thought makes you recall the fights you’d had in the last few days of your whatever the hell it was because apparently it wasn’t a relationship.

It’s a very different feeling than at the beginning of spring, when everything was starting to pick up, when you constantly felt excited about what the immediate future held, and when you’d agreed to go to a wrestling show because Nadia was doing makeup for it. You and Wendy had shown up already drunk and had taken advantage of Nadia’s invitation to come backstage.

You’d stolen beer from kraft services and watched Nadia attending to her work while you tried to distract her by making her laugh. You’d been surprisingly successful but she was such a pro that she had no problems. The women took the longest for her to do, but all the performers had to come in to make sure that they’re coloring and contouring was perfect for tv lighting and that was how you’d met him.

The two of you had locked eyes as soon as he came in the room and had remained that way as he settled into Nadia’s chair. You hadn’t been able to tear yourself away from those huge, shiny orbs with their saucy expression and despite your inebriated state, you could feel that stare lodging itself in your memory forever.

“This is El Phantasmo,” she giggled.

“He’s a what now?” you’d snorted in response, relishing the flare of indignation in his eyes.

“Are we letting just anyone back here now?” he snapped.

“These are my friends!” Nadia assured him, slurring her speech as she motioned to you and Wendy. You’d been feeding her the beer you’d purloined as well.

“Like I said. We’re letting just anyone in.”

At that, you’d given his seat a shove with your foot, despite the fact that Nadia had started to apply bronzer to his cheeks. He was left with a dark streak across one side of his face and nose, which had made you and Wendy crack up.

“Come on,” Nadia chided, “I need to make these guys look good.”

“Good luck with that,” you laughed.

The man you knew only as El Phantasmo flipped you off and you’d returned the gesture, swiveling on your seat a little so that your hips were thrust forward. It wasn’t that he was the most gorgeous thing you’d ever seen, far from it. But something about him just got to you. He had such an effect on you that even as you were mocking him, you let your body move and pose in ways that were intended to resonate with his basest masculine instincts.

You’d been captivated by the show, particularly by his display of athleticism, as well as his bratty defiance to what the audience wanted. You’d booed him with everything you had and you’d been so drawn to him that you’d had to restrain yourself from running to the ring and grabbing his pert ass right there.

Instead, you’d made your way backstage again and insinuated yourself into the group that was going for drinks. You insisted that Nadia come along because Wendy had headed home as soon as the show was over. You wanted someone to hang out with so that it wasn’t totally obvious what and who you were there for. It didn’t really matter, though, because everyone was so friendly and most were so drunk that they didn’t care that they had no idea who you were.

You’d kept an eye on him for a while and then approached the bar when you saw him going for a refill, elbowing your way in so that you were right next to him, bumping his shoulder hard as you got to the bar.

“You wanna buy me a drink?” you crooned.

“No.”

“Fine, I’ll buy you one.”

“Does that mean I have to hang out with you?”

“Yup. Besides, you know you want to.”

“I really don’t.”

He was laughing a little when you said it, and when you leaned over to scream your order at the bartender, ordering him a random drink since you hadn’t even bothered asking, he ran his hand down your back and gave your ass a quick slap. You’d smirked to yourself. You knew you’d seen the spark in his eyes.

“Riley,” he shouted right into your ear.

“Deaf now,” you shot back, pushing his drink at him. “You’re skinny for a wrestler.”

“Don’t need to bulk up when you’re as good as I am.”

“Anything else you’re good at?”

“Fucking women with big mouths until they can’t say anything but my name.”

The two of you had spent the night all over his apartment and, yeah, he’d lived up to his own hype. The sex had been outright feral, biting and clawing and animal-like noises until you were both too exhausted to move.

You thought about dropping a hint that you wanted to sleep there but since it was kind of obvious that this was a one-night thing, you’d waited a while then pulled your clothes back on to go. The two of you shared a surprisingly tender kiss at the door and when you made to leave, he’d looked surprised.

“You don’t want to exchange numbers or something?” He’d sounded legitimately surprised.

“Sure.”

You’d entered each other into your phones and you went home in a cab, reflecting that you did feel more of a connection than you’d realized at first.

Still, you held off calling him so as not to look desperate, but he’d called you a couple of days later. Not knowing what else to do, and not wanting to admit you were broke until your next royalty check cleared, you’d invited him over for dinner. The two of you had cooked some pasta together and drank a couple of bottles of wine and then tore into each other again, gradually making your way to your bed. Once again, it had been mind-blowing, but the real surprise came at the end of the night.

“Mind if I stay here?” he asked quietly.

You’d patted the pillows beside you and grinned. You’d drifted off thinking that, yes, this was something a little special and you’d woken up thinking the same thing.

Craving the crisp air on your reddened cheeks, you grab a sweater, jeans and boots and that wonderful alpaca poncho you’d found when you and Riley went to that farmer’s market. It was a weird thing to find in a place that was supposed to be all about food but it didn’t matter because it was soft and full of deep colours and even though it had been hotter than hell outside, you knew that you were going to get plenty of use from it once the weather turned colder. At the time, you thought that you’d still be going for walks and dinner and drinks with Riley.

As you get ready, your phone buzzes. Wendy sending you a message.

“Never let me do that again.”

You chuckle, remembering that however bad you got last night, she was the one who ended up trying to dance on the bar, refusing to acknowledge that she couldn’t climb up on it. You’ll all have a good laugh about it later but right now, you can’t deal with it. And the reason you can’t deal with it is because for a second, you’d hoped that it was him texting you.

Your body immediately knows where it wants to go, turning the first corner and heading for the hipster diner you eat from too often. They make a mean breakfast burrito but today, you limit yourself to one of those extra buttery croissants you love so much.

Joanne is working the counter, which is kind of remarkable since you remember running into her late into the night, but although her face is flushed the same as you, she’s smiling warmly at every customer.

“Hey there, lady,” she chuckles. “Still walking?”

“Barely. May I please have coffee and a croissant? And may I ask why Peter isn’t working this morning?”

She prepares your order, grinning. “Well he had some of the guys over to watch the game last night and it turns out he’s in worse shape than I am.”

“The bastard.”

“He was totally unconscious this morning. I hope he’s not dead because being a widow would suck.”

Everyone is in a relationship. Everyone you know is in love. It hurts a lot to think that one of those things is still true of you.

Things had gone to shit over an instagram post of all things. Him during a trip back to Japan, posing with a woman who looked straight out of a modelling agency. Immediately, you’d felt in your gut that something was off and although you hadn’t wanted to seem like you were scrutinizing his every movement, you’d been unable to hold back.

“Is something going on with you and that girl in the pictures with you?”

“Going on?” He’d seemed puzzled. “I mean, we hook up when I’m in Japan. No big deal.”

That’s where he had been wrong. It was a very big deal for you. The two of you hadn’t talked about your status but you realized that you had been assuming that because you’d been wrapped up in the romance of it all that he was too. Apparently not.

It had led to a huge fight, then another resentful exchange, and then he was back in Japan for a week. You hadn’t messaged him at all while he was gone. He didn’t contact you when he got back. You’d come home one day to find your spare set of keys in an envelope in your mailbox. No note, nothing. No request to get his set back from you. Giving someone a spare set of keys was supposed to mean something. How many women had keys to his place?

You ponder it glumly for the umpteenth time as you make your way back to the home that always feels strangely empty to you now. You’d been in the place for five years. He’d been coming around for five months and somehow it feels like he belonged there. You see a figure sitting on the front step of one of the buildings and for a second, you think it’s him, waiting for you to get home, like he used to before he had keys and could go in and surprise you with dinner, or flowers, or-

Then you realize that it actually is him, sitting on your step, drinking a beer and staring off into space. He doesn’t even look up when you come to a halt next to him.

“Dude, it’s nine in the morning. Are you starting early or finishing late?”

He shrugs without looking at you and after a long moment of silence, you sit down next to him. You tear the croissant in half and silently offer it to him but he shakes his head.

“For the love of god, eat something.”

He shakes his head again.

“Fine, become an alcoholic and drink yourself to death for all I care.” You bite into the delicious pastry, humming in satisfaction and finally he reaches over and takes the other half from you.

“Good boy.”

“Here’s the thing,” he says quietly. “I thought that since you’d never said anything, it meant that you had other guys in your life. All the guys I work with either lie to their wines and girlfriends or they just have these open things going on and I guess after a while it starts to seem like that’s the normal thing to do.”

“Well I never said that I was opposed to that. I never said that we couldn’t work something out. But you didn’t even give me the chance. You just carried on as if I didn’t even exist.”

“I didn’t, though.” For the first time, he turns to look at you. His eyes are red and swollen and something tells you that it isn’t from drinking. “I said that I’d hooked up with that girl and I had. In the past. Nothing happened when I was there last time.”

“Then why did you let me believe that something had?”

“I have no fucking idea. And that’s been killing me.”

With a heavy sigh, you reach out and place your hand on his. He immediately grabs hold.

“I think,” he says pensively, “that I felt nervous about telling you I was serious about you. I was nervous because I haven’t felt this serious about someone before. And when you got angry, I think I just flipped out and thought it meant that I was wrong.”

“Wrong for having feelings?”

“Wrong for thinking you did too.”

Your stomach flips and you tighten your hold on his hand.

“Well I did.”

He nods and stares off, his face twitching a little like he’s trying to keep from crying.

“I still do,” you tell him.

He turns and stares at you, big eyes surprised and hopeful.

“Really? Because I’m an asshole.”

“Yeah,” you mutter, “I know.”

“I miss you,” he whispers.

“Why don’t you come in and have a cup of coffee?”

“Only if I can make it,” he grins. “You always put too much in.”

“Asshole,” you grunt, standing up and pulling him with you.

As you unlock the door, he leans in and plants a warm kiss on your cheek.

“Thanks,” he murmurs.

The two of you enter your flat, hand in hand again.

#el phatasmo imagine #el phantasmo fanfic #njpw fanfic #njpw imagine #wrestling imagine #wrestling fanfiction #wayward wrestle writing

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wiypt-writes · 4 years

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Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 1. Back Into The Field

Intro: Picking up a few months on from the events of Stark Spangled Man, Katie finds herself on desk bound duty following a disciplinary for ignoring Fury’s orders. But when she’s finally released, and disaster strikes on the first mission she’s run in months, she kinda wishes she’d stayed there.

Warnings: Bad language, mentions of blood, injury, angst and a minor character death.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Katie Stark

A/N: So here we go. A relaunch of SSB thanks to my other blog being flagged. For those of you who are new, welcome! I hope you enjoy. And to all you current Stark Spangled Readers, welcome back, You might spot a few subtle differences as we go through, as things I’m not happy with have been rewritten but don’t worry, nothing will impact the mine lines in the hot mess that is Stark and Rogers.

As always, please leave your comments or send me messages, asks, anything. I love you all!

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

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

March 2013.

Any doctor would cry if they visited SHIELD; the caffeine and alcohol intake of pretty much every worker there would way exceed a dose construed to be healthy. Mind you, if you asked any agent whether they’d give up coffee or alcohol, they’d say alcohol in a heartbeat.

Well, most of them.

Katie couldn’t imagine surviving without an ice cold beer on a hot summer’s day, but she also didn’t function until she had her morning cup of Joe. It was a tough choice to make.

Not today though, she needed coffee. And lots of it. After ‘going rogue’ to chase the Mandarin with her brother, month’s later Fury was still pissed and as such was basically giving her the most boring thing he could think of- working through piles of mission reports to analyse and cross reference with others to pick up on common threads .To be honest, she didn’t mind it too much. After the excitement of the festive period she had welcomed a relatively quiet return to work, and didn’t particularly give a shit what Fury thought about her either.

She circling a part of the hard copy of the report she was working on with highlighter pen, before glancing back at her computer screen to cut and paste it into the Scrapbook App she used to trace trends with, letting out a groan. Who was she kidding? Desk duty sucked ass.

*****

Steve’s morning wasn’t going much better.

Whilst he wasn’t desk bound, after a particularly gruelling Ops Training session during which one of the newest kids suffered a broken nose after colliding painfully with a stray shock baton, he was almost wishing he was. Following a quick debrief, he checked his schedule on his phone and found he was free now for the rest of the day so he showered and headed up to find Katie. He found her in her office, paper in her hand as she stared at her computer screen, eyes narrowed. Steve watched her for a moment, taking in the way her nose crinkled as she read something, her bottom lip being dragged under her top teeth as she continued her work, completely unaware he was there. With a groan she dropped the notes she’d been holding to the desk and ran her hand through her dark hair.

Steve felt he was interrupting something, even though he knew he wasn’t, but he also didn’t want to appear like he’d been watching her either, which he totally had. So he gave a little cough and, as she turned round, her pretty face cracking into a smile which he returned.

“Hey! How was training?”

“Don’t ask.” He let out a snort.

“That bad huh?”

“In a fashion.” He nodded, leaning on the door frame. “You had lunch?”

“Nope.”

“Wanna come get some?”

She nodded instantly “God yes. Can we get FroYo after?”

“Yeah but don’t let me pile it with all that crap this time!” he shot her his best playfully disapproving look as he remembered his first trip the Frozen Yoghurt stall. He had loaded his with all sorts of different things and the result had been beyond foul.

Katie gave a laugh and picked up her jacket, shrugging it on. Standing up straight, he moved to allow her to step through the door and followed her to the elevator.

“Stick to chocolate chip, mint and cookie dough.” She said, stepping into it. “Trust me.”

They strode across the foyer and into the early spring sun. Katie pulled her jacket tighter around herself as they crossed the street, shivering a little in the cool breeze.

“How are you just wearing a shirt?” she looked at Steve as he fell into step besides her, making sure he was on the side nearest the road. He noticed that she’d long since given up chiding him on this old fashioned habit after he had revealed it was something he used to do for his mom too, and Bucky’s younger sister. In fact, today, he swore he saw something that looked like a soft smile flicker on her lips when he positioned himself on her left, but as quick as he noticed it, it was gone.

“It’s not too bad.” He grinned. “I’ve been through worse.” He opened the door to the Deli for her and followed her in as they took their place in the queue. After a moment or two he became aware that she was looking at him.

“What?” he asked, turning to her exasperatedly. Katie couldn’t help but grin, she enjoyed winding the usually mild mannered man up

“I’m trying to imagine how you would look with a beard. And with shorter hair.” she mused, causing the Captain to roll his eyes.

“Not gonna happen.”

“What the hair cut or the beard?”

“Neither.”

“Spoil sport.”

“Captain America doesn’t have a beard.” he shook his head.

“No but, Steve Rogers could…”

She was impossible, but Steve couldn’t help but want to laugh. This playfulness was the thing that he enjoyed the most, how she could just treat him like any other punk she knew.

“Did anyone ever tell you you’re exhausting?” he rolled his eyes, a smirk playing on his face as she stepped forward in the queue.

“Yeah, you.” she spun round to face him, grinning “Several times. But you still come back for more.”

“Well I have the distinct impression if I didn’t you’d hunt me down anyway”

They ordered and ate their lunch, Steve filling her in on the ops drill and after Fro-Yo they made arrangements to slob out that evening at his with a film. They walked back to the Triskellion where Katie headed back to her office to continue sifting through the Mount Everest of reports she had to do. As with anything, once she got the bit between her teeth, she completely zoned out. It was only when she heard a gabble of voices all bidding each other goodbye that she looked up from her work. It was dark outside, and past six.

“Shit.” she groaned as the realisation washed over her. She was supposed to be at Steve’s for half past. She clicked to save her work whilst calling him at the same time, phone sandwiched between her cheek and shoulder.

“So…I’m running late.” She apologised the instant he answered. He chuckled.

“I thought that you said the one good thing about being confined to desk duties was that you set the hours.”

“Yeah, well I got caught up in something, but I’m leaving now. Do you want me to grab pizza on the way?”

“Sounds good, not Chicago Style though. I’m hankering for a proper piece of pie.”

“God you’re such a New Yorker.” She rolled her eyes.

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.” His voice took on a mock hurt tone and she could imagine him pouting on the other end of the phone.

“Hmmm, I’m undecided. Right, I’m leaving now. See you soon.”

“Drive safe.”

“What are you my dad?” she snorted at his stern instruction.

“Old enough to be.” he shot back.

“Touche.” she sniggered, cutting the call

*******

“Boring New York style for Mr S Rogers…” she spoke into the intercom at the main door to Steve’s apartment complex and he buzzed her in. By the time she’d climbed the stairs to his floor he was waiting, leaning on the door frame.

“Bout time.” He muttered, taking the boxes off her “Was about to send a search party.”

“Mario’s was packed.” Katie said, kicking off her sneakers and heading straight through to his kitchen to grab a beer out of his fridge without waiting for him to offer, knowing he wouldn’t. He didn’t need to.

Steve headed into the living room, depositing the thee boxes on the coffee table before he sank onto the couch and reached straight in for one of the pepperoni slices. A few moments later Katie flopped down next to him, handing him a beer.

“What we ticking off the list tonight?” she asked.

“A Few Good Men.” he said, nodding at the TV where he had queued the movie up ready.

“Wait, did you manage to navigate that Android box all by yourself?” She looked at him and he sighed.

“I’m not completely useless ya know.”

“Jury’s out.” she teased, curling her legs up onto the sofa next to her.

They watched the movie. Steve got most of the references within it. He chuckled in the right places, and laughed out loud when Katie was unable to stop herself uttering the immortal line You can’t handle the truth. When the credits began to roll, Katie unfolded herself from where she had been sat and they launched into Steve’s favourite part of Movie Nights- the post film analysis.

“Who was the guy who played the colonel, Jessup?” he looked at her.

“Jack Nicholson. Amazing actor. He’s in a few on your list.”

“He was good. And I know he was supposed to be the good guy so to speak but Kaffee annoyed me a little. He was so arrogant.”

“He reminds me of Tony” Katie sniggered.

“Well, I didn’t want to say anything” Steve gave a little smirk and Katie shrugged.

“I get what you mean though. He is an ass, and it pisses me off a little the romance angle they take with him and Galloway. I mean, she’s portrayed as this strong woman, in the male dominated military woman and they still have to go there.”

“It does seem to be a tried and tested format.” Steve nodded, leaning back against the cushions on his couch “Boy meets girl, boy likes girl, boy wins girl over…even the movies I saw back in before I took a sub-zero nap were the same.”

“I suppose it appeals to the hopeless romantic in all of us.” Katie shrugged.

They continued to chat for a bit longer until Katie glanced at her watch, and seeing the time, decided to call it a night. Steve walked her down to her car, he always did without fail, another thing she had given up chiding him for and when he came back upstairs and got in the shower, he found himself straying back to the first time he had seen her, the minute she had stepped into the light in the boxing gym and he’d found himself looking into the greenest eyes he had ever seen in his life.

The more he stood there in the stream of hot water, thinking about her, the more he started to feel something…well…different. And he couldn’t put his finger on it. Was it that he found her attractive? Well of course he did. To be honest, he reckoned you’d have to be blind not to. And if he was totally honest, since he’d seen her the first time in that little boxing gym in New York he had noticed how pretty she was. She had the figure of the stars of his time. Hour glass waist, brunette hair, shapely ass and legs and quite large breasts considering she was so slim. But what did it for him were her eyes. Deep, sparkling emeralds that he could lose himself in quite happily. And that smile, that fucking smile that could make him stop in his tracks when she flashed it.

But it was more than just that, she was…well…just Katie.

It was strange, really, she reminded him so much of Peggy in some ways, but in others she was so different. Both were vivacious, smart, strong willed and beautiful. But where Peggy had been harsh, after a military upbringing, Katie had a softer edge to her. She was still ferocious at times, but she was a people person, and somehow knew exactly how to explain and understand what he was trying to say even when he struggled to himself. She made him feel at ease. With that in mind it wasn’t surprising they had grown so close. He could trust her and knew that she would do anything for him because she was a good person. And she made it so easy to be around, he didn’t feel a shred of awkwardness around her.

He hadn’t thought he’d ever find himself a friend he could be as honest and open with again, one he would happily lay his life on the line for, not just out of a sense of duty but out of a sense of love and friendship.

Who you trying to kid, Rogers?

He knew his feelings went deeper than that. All those times he’d felt irritation at other men looking at her or touching her, all those times he’d looked at her and just wanted to smile because she was just her… the fear he had felt when he had known she was off chasing the Mandarin and he wasn’t able to help…none of that was anything to do with mere friendship.

He leaned his forehead against the tiles of the shower cubicle and groaned. He was crushing on his best friend.

He was so fucked. *******

Katie’s desk arrest didn’t last much longer. Two weeks later she was catapulted back into the field, on what was supposed to be a simple op, simple by SHIELD standards, anyway. They had a request from the Cuban government – all very hush, hush, of course –to take down a drug lord who ran a cartel SHIELD had tangled with last year.

Katie, in her role as Mission Analyst, read the files and all the intel, pulled together a briefing and delivered it, answering questions that came her way from the team and then handed over to Steve when it was his turn to take the floor. He started issuing out his orders, and informed everyone that the three newest recruits would be joining them as it would be a fairly straight forward op to ease them into.

And it had been, for the most part, until one of those new recruits, Jack Adams, had frozen mid fire fight and as a consequence he’d taken three bullets to the chest. Which shouldn’t have been an issue given the armour they all wore. But when the man failed to get up, Katie knew there was something very, very wrong.

“Adams is down!” she loudly spoke into her radio as she took aim at the hostile responsible. As soon as she was sure the round she had let off had hit her target, she broke cover to get to Adams, as she was closest to him. She skidded to the floor, pressing her hand to his chest and her other reached to his face, turning it to look at her.

“I got you, Adams, look at me.” she urged gently, her hand warm, wet and slick with the young man’s blood. Steve dropped besides her and she turned to face him.

“Armour piercing rounds.” She shook her head. “Steve, I can’t stop the bleeding.” Her tone left the Captain in no doubt as to how worried she was and he looked around frantically for help.

“Medic, NOW! We need emergency evac…”

“Stay with us, Jack.” Katie reached into her belt and retrieved a tab of morphine as he young man’s hand gripped her other whilst she administered the pain relief.

“Son, you’re gonna be fine.” Steve spoke and Adams’ horrified eyes turned to Steve. The soldier swallowed, fighting to keep his face calm. He’d seen that expression so many times on the battle field, the one that told him the man who lay injured knew he was injured beyond repair, that there was nothing to be done for him. But this was now seventy years into the future, medical science had worked so many wonders since then, they had to be able to do something, right?

“RUMLOW WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT MEDIC?” Katie screamed, her tone frantic.

“Still got hostiles on us!” Rumlow replied over the coms. “Evans has taken four down but they’re approaching from the right! We need to cover the medics in and now you’re down there…”

Steve instantly looked round before he looked back at Katie “We’ll have to take him ourselves”

She bit her lip, looking at the young man, then up to Steve again. Everything in their training told them not to move casualties, but Steve knew if they stayed here he was going to bleed out. Katie seemed to come to the same conclusion and she nodded.

“Alright. Brock, we’re coming to you. Have the medics prep the bay on the jet.. Evans, we need top cover.”

“Roger, Cap…”

“Jack, we’re gonna move you now.” Katie looked at him, her voice calm and level as besides her, Steve moved to take the injured man into a lift over his shoulder. Once he had him positioned, he gave a small jerk of his head and Katie picked up his shield in one hand, and her pistol in the other as they broke cover, sprinting across the front of the industrial yard towards the jet. In the corner of his eye, Steve spotted two hostiles moving but before he could shout a warning, Katie had fired off two shots, the thumps and lack of returning fire meaning each bullet had hit its target. Soon they were joined by Rumlow and Rollins who flanked them up the ramp where Katie dropped Steve’s shield to the floor with a clang and offered her hand back to Adams as Steve placed him gently on the stretcher.

“It’s gonna be ok.” Katie soothed him as the medics bustled around, her eyes glancing up every so often to watch what they were doing.

“Can you tell my mom I love her and, and my dad.” Adams was mumbling now and Katie shook her head.

“You can tell them yourself.” She told him fiercely. “You’ll be fine, I promise.”

“We’re locked down outside, local authorities are handling it now.” Rumlow informed Steve who had stepped back from where Katie was knelt by the injured man. “How is he?”

Steve turned to Rumlow, shaking his head sadly. “Not good. He lost a lot of blood.”

At that point Katie suddenly drew back slightly, looking at the hand held in hers, before she glanced at the medic who was sadly shaking his head. Katie’s shoulders slumped as her eyes closed, face screwing up into a pained expression and Steve pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and middle finger as he realised that the young man had lost his final fight.

“Shit.” Rumlow muttered.

“Radio base” Steve turned to Rumlow his voice soft “Let’s get him home.”

*******

Writing mission reports wasn’t Katie’s favourite thing to do, but this one was awful. So she’d treated it like ripping off a band aid, and after a horrific night’s sleep, she’d been at the Triskelion early to get it done. As a result it was little after ten am, she was done for the day and was about to head home until she heard a familiar voice.

“Eat me…eat me…” The voice was accompanied by a bag from her favourite bakery, which was hovering in the space between the door to the office and the frame, before Clint Barton’s head poked round the side, a grin plastered on his face.

“Hey!” She beamed at her friend as he dropped a cup holder containing two coffees and the bag onto her desk before taking a seat, scooting the wheeled chair over the floor towards her.

“Heard you had a rough time of it yesterday so I brought donuts and almond croissants. And coffee.”

“Hawkeye, you are a godsend.” Katie smiled, taking a large drink and leaning back, closing her eyes.

“That the first time you’ve lost a man on a mission?” Clint asked.

“Other than Coulson.” she shrugged. “Shit, Adams was twenty-three Clint. He had his whole life ahead of him.”

Clint watched as she rubbed at her temple before reaching into the bag and pulling out an almond croissant. She couldn’t remember when she had last eaten, it must have at least been before the mission.

“How’s Cap taken it?”

“On the outside he seems okay, but I know he blames himself. Keeps saying he shouldn’t have taken him.” Katie shrugged “He’s gone with Fury to see Adams’ parents. Rather him than me.”

“This job is hard.” Clint said after a moment or two pause. “We fight to keep everyone safe, but y’know, sometimes not everyone makes it. Thing is, if we can’t find a way to deal with that, then maybe next time no one gets saved at all.”

“You mean like Collateral damage?” she snorted, shaking her head.

“No, I mean that everyone one of us that are out in the field know the risks Nova, hell last year 7 of us took on a horde of Aliens in New York. For hours we fought them, and did any of us give a second thought to our own safety? No, because that’s what we do.”

His words made sense. She knew they did, but that didn’t stop the feeling in her stomach that if she had done her research more, maybe she could have spotted something that would have told them about the armour piercing rounds.

*******

Adams’ parents already knew he was dead. Fury had the local authorities call ahead, common practice now, but still, Steve found himself sat on their couch, talking, informing them all about their son’s last moments. They hadn’t shouted, hadn’t screamed or blamed him. Instead, they’d thanked him for what he had done and for bringing him back so they could hold a proper burial.

By the time he got back to base, he was exhausted.

“Here.” Fury handed him a glass of scotch from the bottle he had pulled out of his desk. Steve took it, dropping onto one of the sofas at the side of the large office, Fury settling into the other. Steve knew the drink couldn’t get him drunk, but he liked the momentary buzz he got that lasted all of sixty seconds post sip, and the comforting burn it gave when he swallowed.

The pair of them sat in silence for a few moments before Fury sat forward, his eye fixed on Steve.

“Ever done that before, a death message?” he asked.

“Can’t say I have. Wasn’t really my job back in the day.” Steve shrugged, undoing his tie and popping the top button of his dress shirt.

“Worst part of the job. Doesn’t matter how many times you do it, never gets any easier.” Fury ran his hand over his face, and it struck Steve how tired his boss actually looked.

“Yeah, it isn’t exactly up there with my favourite thing to do.” Steve rolled his tie up and shoved it into the pocket of his old Army uniform pants.

“How’s Nova?” Fury asked.

“She’s upset.” Steve sighed “But she’s strong, she’ll be okay. I’m gonna head over and see how she is later.”

“You two spend a lot of time together outside of work.” Fury commented, innocently enough but there was something in his tone, something that was almost good natured accusation.

“Not a problem is it, Sir?” Steve asked, keeping his face straight.

“No, not at all.” Fury said “Why do you think I partnered you up in the first place? She’s a people person…”

“She’s a good friend.” Steve nodded “We get on.”

“Glad to hear it.” Fury nodded. There was another moment’s pause before he spoke again. “There’s going to be a debrief with the Secretary of Defense tomorrow.”

Steve sighed “If they’re looking to blame someone, the buck stops with me. I should never have taken the kid.”

“Bullshit.” Fury said simply “I’ve read the reports. From what they say, he just froze.”

“He wasn’t experienced enough.”

“Taking risks is part of this job. It’s a dangerous gig.” Fury held his gaze. “It was a straight forward in and out job Captain. What happened was an accident. A tragic one, but an accident none the less. From the reports, neither you nor Stark could have done any more to save his life.”

Steve shrugged, the words were kind but didn’t help him feel any better.

Three glasses of scotch later, Steve shook the director’s hand and left the office, pulling out his phone. He didn’t want to appear like he was checking up on Katie, so he pinged her a text, dressing it up like it was him who needed to see her, which wasn’t a complete lie. He did. He was craving the normality she gave him.

Can I come over? I could do with seeing a friendly face

He read it a few times, before deciding it was casual enough before he sent it. The reply was almost instantaneous.

My door is always open for you. And I made Mac and Cheese. Plenty left.

He couldn’t help but smile. One of the best things about this new life was the food, and her Mac and Cheese was frankly his favourite thing to eat on the planet.

He changed into a pair of sweats and a hoody, hastily making his way to Katie’s penthouse and the smile she gave him when he walked into her place instantly made him feel at ease.

“Hey.” she crossed the space towards him and gave him a hug which he happily melted into, a hug they both needed.

“How did it go?” she asked, pulling away.

“As well as can be expected.” He sighed as he followed her into the kitchen, dropping into the stool on the other side of the breakfast bar. “His mom broke down but they didn’t shout or yell.”

Katie flipped the lid off a beer and handed it to him. He took it, with a nod of thanks and pulled a large swig before he rest his hands on the counter, staring at the bottle.

He was brooding and blaming himself, Katie could tell, so she gently lay her hand on his, reaching over the counter.

“It wasn’t your fault Steve.” she spoke softly and he looked at her.

God, she did that all the time, knew what he was thinking. It gave him the unnerving impression that sometimes she could read his mind.

“I should have spotted that shooter.” he shook his head.

“I’m the fucking mission analyst.” she sighed. “I knew from last time those guys were packing, if I’d done more research, maybe I would have found out about the armour piercing rounds.”

“You can’t seriously blame yourself?” Steve’s frowned.

“Why not?” she shrugged sadly. She’d been over it a million times in her head that day and had come to the same conclusion every time. She should have spotted something, dug further. “I didn’t do my job.”

“Yes, you did.” he implored, his eyes locking onto hers “Your report clearly set out the layout, the learning from previous missions…Adams was just too inexperienced, I should never have taken him.”

There was a pause as the microwave pinged and Katie turned to look at it.

“You know, Clint made a good point before.” she reached in for the plate and the smell of the food made his stomach grumble again as she continued “This job, it’s hard. We fight to keep people safe but not everyone makes it back all the time…and if we can’t learn to live with that then maybe next time no one gets saved.”

“It feels like trading lives.” He took a deep breath as she placed the plate down in front of him “It’s just wrong.”

“I know.” She said, handing him some cutlery and sat down next to him.

“You eaten?” he asked, looking at her, suddenly aware she didn’t have a plate. She nodded.

“Couldn’t have waited until now, I’d have starved to death.” she said, shrugging.

“Hardly.” he replied, mouth full, instantly realising he had said the wrong thing as she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Is that a fat joke?” she asked, making him roll his eyes as he swallowed. That hadn’t been it at all, he was referring to the fact that she never actually stopped eating, despite her tiny frame she gave him a run for his money.

“No, that’s not what I meant. You’re tiny.” he said, almost choking on his food through his protests.

“So now you’re making short jokes?” She shot back. Steve looked at her, dismayed she thought he was being mean to her but then he spotted the look in her eyes and rolled his own.

“Punk.”

“Jerk” she shot back.

It was the perfect way to escape the trauma and stress of the last few days. Once they had finished eating the two of them flopped down on her large L shape sofa, Steve’s legs extended along one side of the L shape, her legs tucked underneath her as she leaned against his shoulder. He couldn’t help but notice the smell of her shampoo…apple, he thought, along with her perfume. Her proximity was making his head buzz but he wasn’t about to move her, the contact was comforting. And it clearly was for her too as about an hour or so into the film- the first in the Lord of The Rings trilogy- he felt her head growing heavy. He glanced down and saw that her eyes were closed and, as he watched, her head slipped slightly. He shifted so that he could catch her gently, and grabbed a cushion from behind him, placing it against his leg. He manoeuvred her head so that she was lay down, gently brushing her hair off her face. She stirred slightly, snuggling down further into the cushion as he absentmindedly rubbed between her shoulder blades as her breathing grew gentle and even.

Steve stayed like that, engrossed in the film right to the end, surprisingly. He had enjoyed it. Katie hadn’t woken up, and he looked down debating whether or not to wake her or simply carry her through to her bedroom. In the end he decided to do neither, instead he reached for the remote as he sifted through to find something else to watch. He didn’t want to leave just yet, he was too comfy and too at ease. Picking one of his favourites, Casablanca, he settled down, getting himself comfy as he immersed himself in the familiar world of Rick’s Café Americain. At one point he felt his eyes growing heavy and he lay his head back, deciding to rest them for just a little while…

**** Katie was jolted awake, quite violently, and as she jerked into an upright position she saw exactly why. Steve was thrashing in his sleep, his face contorted in horror, small murmurs and whimpers slipping from his plump lips. She placed both her hands on his shoulder and shook him. Softly at first, then a bit stronger, trying to rouse him.

“Steve…” she gave him a harsher shake and his eyes flew open, wide in panic and she reached up to cup his face in her hands. “Hey, it’s okay. It was just a dream.”

Her soft voice filled Steve’s senses and, as he realised where he was and whose eyes were looking at him, he took a shaky breath and lay his head back.

Damned it, he’d fallen asleep and had a nightmare. On her sofa.

“Sorry,” he said, his voice croaky, “I err…”

“Don’t apologise, it’s fine.” Katie shook her head gently “I’ll get you a glass of water.”

Whilst she was gone he leaned forward, swinging his legs off the couch so his feet touched the floor, wiping his clammy head with his hands, the memory still flashing through his dream.

Cold air was blasting his hair back…there was a hole in the side of the train…then a flash of light and Bucky flew straight through the hole. “BUCKY…” he yelled, grabbing onto the side of the train, the bar in one hand as he stretched to reach his friend with the other.

“Steve…” The voice was louder, but not loud enough. No, he had to get to Bucky…

But he was gone, Steve was grasping at nothing but air.

Just a dream, Katie had said. It was anything but…

She appeared back in the room with a glass of water and he thanked her as she passed it to him. He took a large gulp, swallowing and was relieved when his breathing began returning to normal.

“You ok?” she asked, kindly as her hand gently knotted into his, her concern evident.

“Yeah, just a nightmare.” he nodded softly “I’ve not had one for a while.”

“Understandable with what’s happened. Wanna tell me what it was about?”

“It was Bucky.” he swallowed thickly “I was replaying the moment he fell. The moment he plummeted to his death from that Hydra train and I didn’t save him.”

Katie stayed silent for a moment before her hand curled round Steve’s shoulder and she pulled him to her, causing him to lay his head on her shoulder. “You know it wasn’t your fault.”

“I should have done more” The guilt ate Steve up every day, that he had survived. Why had he deserved that any more than Bucky?

“How?” she said again. “How could you have done anymore?”

"I should have gone after him.” he said quietly.

“What would’ve changed if you had?” Katie asked. “There’s no way he could have survived that fall.”

“He wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for me.“ He replied, "I should have gone after him, brought him home, done something.”

Katie remained quiet, her hand gently running through his hair which was nice, far too nice. He took a deep breath and sat up moving away from her touch.

"What time is it?”

“Nearly six in the morning” Katie glanced at her watch.

“You’re kidding?” Steve snorted.

“Nope. You want some coffee?” she stood up, stretching her arms above her head.

“Yeah if that’s ok.” he replied, following her to the kitchen. From her body language he could tell she was rolling her eyes, even if she wasn’t facing him.

“I don’t know if your Ma ever told you, but it’s rude to run out on a girl after you spend the night with her.”

“And as you know, I’m useless with women.” he sat down at the barstool on the breakfast bar. He watched her, but he didn’t say anything as she bustled about, throwing some bread in the toaster and then went to the fridge for the butter, marmalade and jam, sliding them onto the island. At that point Steve held his hands up.

“You don’t have to-” he started to say, but she silenced him with a glare, similar to the ones Peggy used to give him, the look that could stop him in his tracks it was that stern.

“Shut up.” she poured them both a cup of the coffee before adding milk and a spoon of sugar to each, passing one to him. The bread popped up from the toaster, and she put it on a plate before sliding it over to him and adding more bread to the machine.

His stomach rumbled and he gave in, smearing butter over his toast. He eyed the jam curiously. He’d had marmalade before but…

He looked at Katie and she nodded. “It’s good.”

So he added some, and after a bite he concluded she was right, and nodded in agreement. Once the next round of toast was done she sat next to him.

“So, when did I fall asleep.” she asked, swallowing her food.

“About an hour into the film.”

She shook her head “What an ass…”

“It wasn’t a problem.” He replied honestly as he took a bite of his breakfast. “To be honest I enjoyed it.”

“What, me drooling on your leg?”

He swallowed, his eyes wide “I meant the film.”

“I know.” she smirked.

***** Chapter 2

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #relaunch #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #katie stark #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character

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blu-joons · 3 years

Text

He Confesses To You ~ Kim Namjoon

Your bags were packed, all ready to leave Korea and head off on your next adventure. You’d worked for a few weeks with the members of BTS on their newest release, lending your vocals to their title song to feature on their album.

You’d loved it, but as ever, you had your own music to focus on too. Your flight to America left in just a matter of hours, and after your final goodbyes, you were ready to move on from this project, and look forward to the next.

As you sat in your living room, waiting for the car to pull up to take you to the airport, a knock at your front door startled you. Your eyes peered out of the window, failing to see a car parked outside, walking to the front door to see who wanted you.

“Y/N,” a voice called out as soon as you unlocked the latch, opening the door to see Namjoon stood before you, leaning on the wall as he tried to catch his breath. “I’m so glad you’re still here.”

“My car is arriving any minute,” you informed him, looking past his shoulder to make sure that you hadn’t missed it. “Have you forgotten something? Or left something over here that you need?”

His head shook, “no, the only thing I guess I’ve left is you.”

You looked back at him in confusion, growing increasingly wary that your car would be arriving any minute, and here Namjoon was, talking in circles before you, without much sense.

Whilst you had one eye on him, the other focused on the road, which he quickly picked up on. Namjoon took a step to the side, making sure that both of your eyes were watching him.

“I wanted to come and speak to you, but I was worried that it would be too late,” he chuckled to himself, “or am I too late, have you really not got that long before you go?”

“Make it quick,” you responded, bouncing up and down on your toes, “I’m not sure what you’ve come here to say, but if you could just spit it out, that would be great, because I really do have to go in a few minutes Namjoon.”

“I’ll start talking properly then, right?” He continued to laugh, stopping as soon as your eyes stared up at him with a blank expression on your face, slightly wishing that he would do just that. “Sorry, I guess I’m just nervous.”

You continued to look at him, baffled as to what he meant. He was the one you clicked with the most whilst you were working with the boys, not once did he show any sign of nerves around you, in fact, it was usually the complete opposite.

“I just wanted to come by and tell you how thankful we all are to have had the chance to work with you I suppose,” he spoke, taking a step back when you let go of a sigh.

The words were on the edge of his tongue, and yet somehow, he couldn’t find the way to articulate it. For someone that spoke so well, Namjoon couldn’t believe how quickly he’d managed to crumble, all thanks to you.

Whilst your head shook, you could tell that there was more to what he wanted to say. You’d already been told thank you by the boys several times, there was no way that he had come all the way from the dorm to your place just to reiterate it.

“It’s going to be weird without you,” you noted.

“I’m not going away forever; in a few months I’ll be back from America.”

“I know, but you won’t come back and work with us again, you’ll come back and find your own thing to do, not with BTS.”

You nodded back at him, whilst working with the boys was fun, you had many dreams of your own that you wanted to achieve too. Although you hoped you’d see the boys around, with such busy schedules, you were never quite sure if you’d ever be able to find the time.

“I don’t want to let you go and just never have anything to do with you again,” Namjoon spoke up.

Your eyes turned back to him, “you can’t exactly keep me here Namjoon, and you’ve got too much on your plate to be worrying about me.”

His eyes went wide at your suggestion, quickly dismissing such a thought. He’d been there for you since you were first introduced to the group, always making sure that you ate well and got plenty of rest before you focused on the music.

“I really should get ready to go Namjoon,” you reminded him, “I don’t really know why you’ve come here, aside from to say thank you.”

“Just wait,” he pleaded, moving his arm across the door frame, “there is one thing that I did come here to say. In a roundabout way, I knew I needed to come here to tell you that I like you, but I had prepared myself that it would be too late. It’s not too late, is it?”

You moved his hand out of your way, resting both of your hands over it. “You’ve left it pretty last minute Namjoon, you’re a lucky guy. But I’m going, and this isn’t a conversation that we can be having on the doorstep, it’s too important.”

His head nodded in agreement, “I’ll come to the airport with you, I can make my own way home. But I do want to talk to you, and tell you how I feel, if you’ll let me.”

“Of course,” you acknowledged, “because I think it’s only fair that I talk to you too, and let you know how I feel about you. I’m guessing that would be alright with you, seeing as you seem to have already confessed to me.”

A nervous laugh came from him, staring back at you in disbelief, only for his gaze to be broken by the sound of a car horn beeping behind him. You looked past him, recognising the driver in the car as the one ready to take you to the airport.

“I’ll get your case,” Namjoon announced, grabbing the luggage that you had behind you waiting. You followed behind Namjoon, making sure that you locked your home up properly, knowing it would be a little while until you’d be back.

“Just throw it in the back of the car,” you instructed once you were at the car, smiling across to your driver who had also stepped out to greet you. His eyes instantly looked across to Namjoon in confusion, silently looking back at you for some sort of answer.

“Don’t worry, he’s only coming to the airport, we just have a few things to discuss.”

You climbed into the back of the car with Namjoon getting in on the other side. As soon as the car doors shut, you turned to face each other, neither knowing what to say. “It’s suddenly become a little bit awkward between us, hasn’t it?”

Namjoon nodded with you, clearing his throat with a deep chuckle. “I guess I should probably get talking though, there’s plenty that I want to get off my chest, and the airport really isn’t that far away.”

“Just tell me how you feel Namjoon.”

“I think you already know how much I like you Y/N.”

---

Masterlist

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after-avenging-hours · 4 years

Text

Heart Skip [15]: Steve x Reader

Series Summary: A soulmate AU where from the moment you are born, two partners share a heartbeat. They race in times of joy, slow in times of sadness, and they skip at the same moment.

Word Count: 2617

Warnings: None

Heart Skip / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14

Gif Credit

The splattering of water droplets against tile is the only sound that fills the empty space of the bathroom. Steve’s broad frame nearly fills the small shower stall. He stands unmoving, shoulders tensed, one hand pressed to the tile as his head hangs low. He’s so lost to his thoughts; he doesn’t even hear you approach.

You place a tentative touch to the center of his back, stepping behind him. He inhales sharply, snapping out of it. He glances at you from over his shoulder before pushing off the wall and turning around. He sees the concern in your eyes and pulls you in close.

“I’m okay,” he tries to assure you.

You press your cheek to his chest, the water droplets pressing into your skin and sliding down your neck. “No, you’re not.”

He holds you tighter, resting his head against the top of yours. You wrap your arms around him and mold your body to his. You both need this. To feel as much skin to skin contact as possible. Not to incite anything sexual, but because both of you need the reassurance. Need to know that, at least physically, you were both still okay. You had come far too close to losing each other.

Steve fingers ghost up and down the length of your spine, feeling the reflection of your heartbeat against his chest. Slowly some of the tension in his body begins to ease. Not everything, but at least it’s a start.

“I should have gone back for him,” he whispers just above the sound of the shower.

“Steve…” You squeeze your arms around him. “There’s no way you could have known. And even if you had… There was no time. You had to stop Schmidt.” You lift your head from his chest to look into his gaze. “None of that is your fault.”

His eyes are sad as he looks back. “It feels like it is.”

You lift a hand to cradle the back of his neck, pulling his head down until your foreheads touch. You both stay like that until the water begins to turn cold. You reach around him to shut off the water before leading him out of the shower. You both towel off together.

“What can I do to help with the mission?” you ask. You’re so sick of feeling useless, you’ll do just about anything.

Steve meets your gaze for a moment, thinking it over. “Well, I can’t exactly walk into SHIELD headquarters stark naked, now can I?” His lips quirk into a small grin.

You raise a curious brow. “What did you have in mind?”

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” you grumble quietly, pulling the uniform taught over Steve’s torso.

He grins down at you in amusement. “If you’re gonna fight a war, you gotta wear a uniform.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re damn lucky I created this based on your actual measurements. It’s supposed to be hanging off a mannequin, not going into battle. This suit isn’t going to protect you like your other one.” Your fingers fiddle with the straps going down his front, making sure they’re at matching lengths leading to his utility belt.

“I know. I’ll be careful.”

You release a low sigh when there’s not much else you can mess with. “I guess it’s a good thing I don’t work there anymore either. I’d totally be fired for this. I may have been the one to make it, but it’s still stealing from the government.”

“We’re not stealing it. Only borrowing,” he grins crookedly.

You raise an unamused brow. “Borrowing without asking is still stealing.”

“If it means that much to you, we can give it back when I’m done.” He chuckles.

You shake your head and attempt to suppress a smile. “Just shut up and kiss me already.” You tug at his uniform to pull him into a kiss. His gloved hands move up to cup your cheeks as he kisses you long and slow.

“Cap, we gotta go,” you hear Sam from the other room.

You both pull back with equal sighs of disappointment. “Duty calls,” Steve mutters, eyes flickering over your face.

“Good luck, soldier. Stay safe.” Your hands give his uniform one last squeeze before you pull back.

He nods once. “You too.” He steps forward for one last quick kiss. “I love you,” he breathes against your lips before moving back.

“I love you, too,” you whisper, turning away as he begins to head for the door. You don’t have it in you to watch him leave.

You move to the pile of clothing that Steve set aside after changing into the uniform. You reach for the jacket he had been wearing during the fight against Bucky. It’s dusty and smells like gunmetal and smoke, but it’s still warm. You find yourself slipping it on over your shoulders trying to draw comfort and strength from it.

“Are you ready?”

You turn to find Fury standing in the doorway. “For what?” you ask in confusion.

He lifts his good arm, a set of car keys dangling from his hand. “You’re my ride.”

You follow him outside to the nondescript van Maria had been using. You scramble into the driver’s seat as Furry climbs into the back where he’ll be hidden from view. He gives you a set of directions to a private airfield nearby where he has a helicopter waiting.

You follow his directions, trying to take back roads and avoid popular areas to stay off SHIELD’s radar. You’re not even sure how much time has passed by the time you make it to the airfield. Based on your accelerated heartrate, you can tell that Steve has already gotten himself in a world of trouble. Your hands tighten around the steering wheel as you do everything you can to stay calm.

“So, what now?” you ask after parking on the runway near a black helicopter.

“Now?” Furry responds, before you hear the back door to the van slide open. “Now, you stay here where it’s safe until we get back.” He exits from the van and slides the door shut behind him.

“Wha-” Your jaw drops and then you quickly scramble out the door. “Hey, that’s not fair! I’m here to help!”

Fury releases a long sigh and looks at you with zero amusement. “You want to talk to me about what’s not fair? What’s not fair is getting hunted and nearly killed by the very agents that I trained. What’s not fair is having the agency that I have dedicated my entire life to stripped apart in a single day. What’s. Not. Fair. Is having to send your boyfriend to destroy the one thing that was going to be my legacy of protection for the world. So, yeah… you can throw your tantrum and cry all you want, but that won’t change the fact that the best place for you is here. Out of the way, where you can’t get hurt, and where you won’t jeopardize the mission.”

All you can do is stare, mouth agape as he walks away from you and heads for the chopper. The rotor blades soon begin to spin and once the wind picks up, you’re forced to retreat back inside the van. You slam the door shut like a sulking child and watch as the helicopter lifts into the air and disappears out of site.

You sigh loudly and drop your forehead down against the steering wheel. With nothing but silence engulfing you, your thoughts are left to run rampant in your mind. No matter what you did, Fury would only ever see you as Steve’s weakness. The chink in Captain America’s armor. A nuisance. Something to be pushed aside, or locked away for safe keeping.

And maybe he was right. You would have been captured by those Hydra agents if Maria hadn’t come for you when she did. Fury had actually told her to prioritize finding you first, because you were a greater risk to lose to Hydra, than Steve. You couldn’t even manage to stay out of their crosshairs for a single day. What in the world did you expect to be able to do against an entire building and three Helicarriers full of those people?

“Stupid,” you berate yourself, squeezing your eyes shut as they begin to sting. You try to fight off the tears, knowing that if Steve can sense your distress, he’ll become distracted. Yet another thing to add to the list of why you’re his weakness.

Your breath catches when you feel a jolt in your chest. And not a good one. Your eyes snap open and the blood drains from your face. Something is wrong.

Your heartbeat sputters and struggles to keep going, despite the lag that seems to be on the other end. Steve is hurt. Bad.

And you’re all the way out here.

You lift your head back up and find your hand moving to the keys in the ignition. Gritting your teeth, you push your despair to the side and steel your resolve. “Screw this.”

Turning the ignition, you bring the van back to life and make a U-turn on the run way. You’re not entirely certain how to get back, with all the random turns and loops Fury had you take in order to get to the air field. Now that you think about it, the crazy route probably had more to do with confusing your own sense of direction, so you wouldn’t be able to get back on your own, and less about the defensive maneuvers to keep Hydra off your tail.

With a determined huff, you pick a direction and drive, letting your instincts and your connection to Steve guide you. After traveling a few aimless miles, you manage to catch a freeway entrance. From there, the rising smoke in the distance is the only confirmation you need to know you’re heading in the right direction.

You watch in the distance as the last helicarrier left in the air slams into the side of the Triskellion. Your stomach flips upon the impact and you just know that Steve is still on that ship. You pull over abruptly on the side of the freeway and jump out of the van. Your knees slam into the pavement as you bend over and expel what little food you’d had earlier that morning.

Rising back up onto shaky legs, you wipe at your mouth with the back of your hand and stumble around the van. You walk off the freeway and into the copse of trees that line the bank of the river. You lean your weight against the trunk of a tree as you get a front row seat to the horror show before you. The last hellicarrier is steadily losing altitude as the other two burn in a fiery heap of rubble upon what’s left of the Triskellion.

You watch as pieces of debris fall from the belly of the flying ship, and mixed in the middle is a body clad in a red, white, and blue uniform. When his body hits the water, your vision swims and your knees give out once again. You are certain that these are going to be your final moments in this world, when a second body falls out of the ship and dives straight into the river.

Your heartbeat slows and it becomes the only sound you can hear, ringing in your ears. Time seems to come to a standstill.

Then, suddenly, two heads pop back up to the surface.

You release an audible gasp, finding the strength to get back on your feet. You stumble like a newborn fawn, tripping over tree roots and rocks as you make your way down the river bank.

“Steve!” you don’t even feel the water against your legs as you rush forward to help the man dressed in black carry him to shore. The man releases his metal grasp from the strap on Steve’s shoulders, setting him down on the muddy river bank. “Steve!” you call out to him, a choked sob leaving you as you take in the cuts all over his face and the wound on his torso.

A weak cough escapes him and a dribble of water leaks from his open mouth. You whimper in relief when he continues breathing. Your fingers brush against his jaw, tears spilling over and running down your cheeks.

The man in black shifts his weight and begins to step back.

“Wait!” you lift your gaze to meet his. “W-where are you going?”

He stares back at you blankly. “I don’t know.” His voice comes out broken and raw. He turns away and takes a few more steps.

You quickly scramble to your feet. “Bucky!” The man pauses once again, his posture stiffening. “You are Bucky, aren’t you?” you question carefully.

He keeps his back toward you for a long moment, before turning his head just slightly. “I don’t know,” he repeats, this time with anguish in his voice.

Your heart breaks for him. “There’s a van pulled off the side of the freeway, just a short way up. The keys are still in the ignition,” you tell him. “And here,” you quickly shrug out of Steve’s jacket that you’ve still been wearing. You hold the garment out to him. “To cover up your arm.”

Bucky looks down at the metal appendage and frowns before slowly turning toward you and taking the jacket with that same hand. He hesitates for another second, before lifting his gaze to yours once more. “Thank you,” he says the words strangely, like he’s grown unused to the phrase.

“Thank you for saving him,” you respond, glancing briefly back at where Steve lays.

Bucky nods once, stiffly, before turning and disappearing into the brush.

You release a shaky breath and crumple down once more at Steve’s side. The wound at his stomach is continuing to bleed and you know that if you don’t get help for him soon, you will both probably die anyway.

You reach for the commlink in his ear and pull it out. You hope that the thing is water proof, but it’s the only way you’ll be able to contact anyone else. You tuck the device into your own ear. “Hello? Is anyone there?”

All you can hear for a moment is static, before that cuts out and you hear a voice. “Y/N, is that you?”

You sigh and drop your shoulders in relief. “Nat! I’m with Steve. We’re on the west side of the river. He’s hurt. I think he’s been shot.”

“Keep pressure on the wound. We’re coming to you.”

“O-okay.” Your hands shake as you place them over the blood-soaked patch on his uniform. He groans in pain as you apply pressure to the spot, but continues to remain unconscious. “Don’t you die on me, Soldier,” you try to say firmly, but your voice breaks.

It feels like hours have passed by the time you hear the beat of a helicopter. Looking up, you recognize Fury’s copter as it flies above you and lowers onto the freeway. Nat and Sam burst through the trees moments later.

Sam kneels down on the other side of Steve, opening a first aid kit to begin triaging the wound. Nat gently grabs your shoulders and pulls you back. “Hey, you did good,” she encourages, pulling you to your feet.

“Is he going to be okay?” you ask.

“An ambulance is already on the way.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you look down at the blood covering your hands. “Oh God…” you barely manage to get out, before the world fades to black.

Part 16

#steve x reader #steve soulmate au #hearbeat soulmate au #captain america x reader #sam writes #steve rogers x reader

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