#the best threading of the needle is can think of is that the kidnapper was accidentally successful

[quibbs126]

I had another thought with that one megop sparkling idea I keep bringing up but never fully committing to because I can’t decide on any one idea and at this rate I think I’m just annoying people

But yeah, I had another thought, one that I just thought was funny. I want to draw it out, but I’m lazy and also I have a test tomorrow that I have to study for, so I’m not doing it now. But I’m also impatient, so I’m giving you the bullet points/written version. If I’m sensible, I’ll take this post down after I finish the actual thing so I’m not too repetitive

Anyways, so there’s the kid, who is the child of the two leaders of the Autobot and Decepticon factions, and thus, potentially, holds a lot of value as a hostage and bargaining chip. Granted, I don’t know how known they actually are, there might just be a rumor going around that the two leaders have a secret kid somewhere

But anyways, someone (I don’t know who) gets the idea to capitalize on this, and afterwards calls up Optimus and Megatron, who are up to their usual things, claiming they have taken their sparkling captive and want some demands or other if the two ever want to see them again

Now both of them are very confused by this turn of events. Optimus has no goddamn clue what this guy’s talking about, because he’s pretty sure he knows the two of them definitely don’t have a sparkling. Megatron meanwhile does know they definitely had a sparkling, but he’s cycling through his head the possibilities of if this guy’s telling the truth. Because he was pretty sure no one knew about them, how did this person find out? How many people know? Do they really have their sparkling or is it just a trap to kill them? Or is it some idiot claiming this status, while probably not being aware there is a genuine one out there? Or did they just pick up an innocent bot who just happens to kind of look like them? How close is his secret to getting out, especially to Optimus?

But yeah basically meanwhile, while Megatron is somewhat internally panicking and trying to assess the most likely severity of this situation, Optimus is just like, “…I have absolutely no clue what you’re talking about, Megatron and I don’t have a sparkling, isn’t that right Megatron?”, thinking Megatron is on the same page of this being absolutely absurd as him

But because Megatron is thinking and stopped paying much attention, he doesn’t answer at all. And the silence goes on long enough that it’s getting questionable, especially since Megatron isn’t jumping in to defend his own honor that he did not have a baby with his sworn enemy. His silence is starting to become an admission, and the possibility of this actually being legit is starting to freak Optimus out, because again, he doesn’t know about any of this

Okay explaining it out loud does not bring out the comedy the situation is supposed to have. Probably because there’s no visuals and my description of the narrative rather than just dialogue. So like, the comedy doesn’t happen like it’s supposed to, this isn’t the format for the joke. But the image is funny in my head, okay?

I’ll make the picture either tomorrow or Friday or something, since I have things to do tomorrow. I was just trying to explain it so that you could understand my vision before I can make it

[donutloverxo]

Tainted

*gifs not mine*

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

Note - this is inspired by a hc @sweater-daddiesdumbdork once wrote me and gave me a frigging murder kink. Life ruiner😡😡

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Summary - Steve saves you and plans on never letting you go again.

Warnings - 18+ only, smut(m/f), kidnappings, being held hostage, murder, blood, non descriptive violence, captain kink, slight murder kink.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - 6.8k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

One of the most amazing thing about living with you was that Steve never had to come home to an empty house. He was now responsible for you, he’d have to shoot you a text message, he had gotten pretty good at texting, thanks to your guidance, or call you, he definitely liked calling and hearing your voice better. He’ll always be old school.

You’d get that slight waver in your voice as you tried to pretend that you weren’t sad, he could see your cute little pout through the phone. And while he would never want to cause you any sort of pain, knowing that you’d be waiting for him, that you’re missing him when he’s away, made him feel wanted.

That even someone like him deserved love and happiness and a safe, boring life. That may be there was a reason he died only to wake up again in a strange new world.

That wasn’t to say you didn’t come with your own set of challenges. You were messy if anything, leaving clutter everywhere and putting off doing your dishes and laundry for days. Maybe not the most practical but definitely the cutest roommate in the world.

He’d learn to put up with it because it was worth it. Maybe, he could even learn to 'let loose' a little as people always recommended to him.

At first, he couldn’t wait to ask you to marry him. He had even impulsively bought a ring with your birthstone, he knew you were obsessed with them and astrology and maybe even dark magic. But then you surprised him with a date to an old diner and introduced him as your boyfriend to your friends.

He liked your friends quite a lot, he couldn’t really understand what they were talking about half the time. From what he could tell - by their fascination with his muscles and all the touching and squeezing to his biceps, them wanting to hear about his life before the ice - it seemed that they liked him too.

But hearing you call him that, your guy, your boyfriend, your beau, as your friend Stacey had put it, he decided that he wasn’t quite ready to let go of this blissful courting period. He was rushing things.

He needed to live in the moment and just enjoy being your boyfriend for now, he had all the time in the world to wife you up - preferably not to late though.

He was so unbelievably happy, ecstatic to see you, to surprise you, his mission ending a week early he got home as soon as he could. He thought of maybe taking you to Vermont for the weekend, he had never been but Nat told him it’d be a nice little getaway and that you’d love it.

His wide smile slowly fade away as he looked at the state of his door - the latch broken. Forced entry. Somebody broke his door in. He pushed the door wide open and made his way in.

He knew what was to come next but he willed that thought away. Maybe you kicked it in yourself, maybe you forgot your keys. He kept telling himself that because he was terrified of thinking the alternative.

He stepped in as soon as he was able to shake himself out of his haze. Looking at the state of his, and your, apartment. A broken vase, and the coffee table smashed in.

Crouching down to take a closer look he saw some blood on the ceramic. Whoever did this to your home, better hope that it’s wasn’t yours.

He got up, directing his simmering rage towards his new mission. He didn’t panic, not yet, he couldn’t give himself that kind of luxury. His mind coming up with ten different to find you and make the bastards who did this pay.

NOBody can hurt the people he loves, especially his girl, and get away with it.

***

Your eyes fluttered open before scrunching shut to adjust to the harsh fluorescent light. You blinked, looking around you while squinting.

Some sort of empty grey room... a window to the side but it was dark outside. You dress sticking to your skin as your whole body was covered in a sheen of sweat.

Three men in a corner, one for them shouting at the others in a foreign language.

You felt a yip of pain radiating in your arms and then realised they were tied up behind you - strapped to a creaky chair.

You tried to shake free of them, by wiggling your wrists but then winced at the burn it caused, capturing the attention of your kidnappers.

One of them smiled at you, walking towards you.

“Finally awake, are we?” he asked in an abnormally chirpy way. “You were out for quiet some time. Did you sleep well?”

He squatted before you, you could see his face, his cold grey eyes betraying the warm smile that graced his lips. Many white scars littered over his jaw...

And then you remembered.

How you rushed home when you felt someone was following you. Locking the door, you tried to call Steve but couldn’t get through to him.

And then your stalker broke into your home. You tried to smash his head in with a vase but couldn’t really do any real damage. Everything was hazy after that. Maybe he drugged you - you couldn’t recall.

You exhaled shakily when you realised he was watching you both from the corner. You could never forget his dark hoodie and hair. Or fresh cut on his forehead. You had never so much as hurt a fly or even slapped anyone. How you managed to smash his head in you’ll never know.

You looked at the man before you again when you heard him calling out your name, his smile haltered for a moment as he looked back to your stalker.

“I’m sorry about that, he’s a rookie. He’ll be reprimanded soon enough. This wasn’t exactly our plan but we’ve decided to improvise.”

You tried to speak but with your throat and mouth dry and your mind in shock the words wouldn’t come out.

“Oh, that’s alright, don’t struggle. We don’t want anything to do with you, you’re just a normal plain Jane going about your life, aren’t you?”

You could only give him a weak nod, still trying your best to shake yourself free of your bounds without him noticing.

“That’s right. You haven’t done anything wrong, you don’t deserve to have anything bad happen to you, do you?”

You nodded again. Your breath hitched when he got closer to you, in your face, his hands planted on your bare thighs with your skirt pooled just below your hips.

“But we don’t always get what we deserve. You’re close to the Captain, that’s right Michael’s told me all about how taken he is with you. I mean... I never would’ve imagined Captain America would pick someone like you but to each their own,” he cupped your cheek, the cracks in his palm harsh against your soft skin.

“What do you want?” you asked, not looking away from him.

“I want justice. For things to be in the right order. You’ll have to suffer for it, but know that it’s for a good cause.”

“You’re wrong,” you shook your head, “he’ll come for me.”

“We’re counting on that,” he snickered.

You’re not sure what came over you, all you knew was that you wanted his disgusting hands off of you, “He’ll come for me, and then you’ll regret ever touching me.”

“Uh, I don’t know about this,” you pulled on a thread from your skirt with your right hand, your other hand in Steve’s as he held onto your waist, pulling you into his side. “It’ll be inside me?” you shuddered.

“Yes, but,” Bruce scratched his head, he was adorable like that. You never would’ve imagined him to be the hulk, a 'rage monster’. “it’s not as bad as you think. You won’t even feel it. All shield agents and Avengers have one. Except Thor, because that wouldn’t be of any use. The radius is only on earths surface. You would’ve thought that would be enough,” he chuckled.

You pressed your lips in a thin line, looking at the chip, smaller than an acrylic nail, watching Bruce load it up.

“I know it’s not ideal, doll. But I’ll feel much better knowing I can find you, in case something goes wrong.” He kissed your temple, as you braced yourself.

“Will it hurt?” you gulped as Bruce lined the shooter or gun, by the looks of it, to your forearm.

“Just a little. You’ll barely feel it.” He gave you a sympathetic smile.

“Look at me, pup,” Steve gripped your chin, moving your head till you looked into his blue eyes, he pressed his lips to yours, massaging your tongue with his to distract you.

“Mm,” you winced and moaned into his mouth when you felt the piercing pain. It was like getting a flu shot but you had never having been a huge fan of needles either.

He released his hold on you as Bruce worked on cleaning your the blood seeping through your pierced skin. “You did good.” Steve said.

“Do I get a sucker?” You asked Bruce and he chuckled - as if you were joking, you do not joke about candy, “No I really want one.”

“Let’s keep this between us.” Steve told you both.

“Of course,” Bruce nodded, “I can keep tracker dormant till we need it but are you sure?”

“I’m not sure who I can trust.” But he knew he could trust his teammates.

You sniffled, keeping your tears at bay because really something so little shouldn’t make you cry, rubbing your hand over your wounded bicep as Bruce handed you some gummy bears.

“They’re Tony’s. He leaves snacks everywhere, it’s annoying.”

“Thank you.” You blinked up at him and offered some to Steve.

You never thought you’d need it. Until now, you were sure your friends or your mother would notice that you’ve been gone and Steve will find out and track you down. You knew he would. He had to.

He frowned, his nails digging into your cheekbones, pluckering your lips, “Where’s all that confidence coming from?” he quirked a curious brow up, “He’ll walk right in and pay for everything he’s done,” he snorted.

“You’re way underprepared to take someone like him on,” shut up, shut up, shut up, why the fuck are you egging him on? “He’s strong, he’s a survivor.” Even without the serum, he survived an abusive household, being bullied, being sick, and you knew how protective he could be. To the point where it was downright irritating.

“We’ve got all the time in the world to prepare, you should be worrying about yourself,” he spat.

You had always been bold, even in the most inappropriate of situations. Like when you lectured a boy for over an hour on respecting boundaries for throwing spitballs at you, in kindergarten. Steve even said that he fell for that ‘spunk' in you.

‘Well-behaved women rarely make history’ your mother had told you.

And really, you liked that about yourself as well. You liked that you found a man that would encourage that side of you instead of calling you ‘difficult’ or ‘bossy’.

However, you immediately regretted everything you had said. Not because it was untrue, but because your captor took out a sharp pocket knife, a dark glint in his eyes.

“We only need you alive,” he said as you gulped, “I suppose, it wouldn’t matter if you’re missing a finger or two.”

You frantically shook your head, choking on a sob. “No,” you pleaded, “you’ll... he will find me and you will - ”

“Go to prison at best. It’s a risk we’re all willing to take,” he put the blunt end of the knife against your cheek, “We have to do something to kill the time.”

You couldn’t breath, your heart hammering in your chest, what if he doesn’t come for you? You won’t be able to do anything about it. It wasn’t like you could protect yourself, at least in this situation, all you could do was wait for him.

You shut your eyes, and braced yourself for the pain. Except... it never came, you simply heard someone fall down, some sort of clattering sound.

Upon opening your eyes you saw one of his friends face down before your in the corner, the other guy, your lovely stalker, drawing out his gun, looking at the only window to your left. You swore you a saw a glimpse of a flying disk knocking your stalker out.

The man before you cursed under his breath, “Get. Up. Come on!” he ordered.

“Yeah, if I could do that I probably would’ve,” you snarked, still trying to get your aching wrists free.

You barely even registered - who could only be your Captain - sneaking up behind him, snapping his neck with his hands in a matter of seconds. He collapsed on the ground and you could finally see Steve.

His clenched jaw and cold eyes softened up on seeing you, you couldn’t help but let out a sob as you realised you were going to be free.

“You’re okay, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he soothed you, kissing your forehead before swiftly free your hands.

You stood up on wobbly legs, holding onto his arms for support, “Steve,” you breathed out, “you came for me.”

“Of course I did,” he sighed, gently pushing your face against his chest as he hugged you close to him. “As if I’d ever abandon you,” he smoothed a hand over your back and decided to not dwell on your comment. This wasn’t about him, you were in shock.

“I was so scared,” you sniffled, “he said, he - ” you couldn’t even finish your sentence as you broke down in a fit of sobs and hiccups.

“You’re safe now,” he promised.

“You - did you kill him?” you pushed away from him to look up at his face so you could take him in.

You had never seen him in his uniform. Only ever seeing him on the news but he had his cowl on and a suit that was much more on brand for ‘Captain America’ than the darker one he had on now. It made him look bigger - if that was even possible. Bigger than the shield now strapped to his back.

His usually clean shaven face had the faintest shadow to it while his hair was slicked back. He looked beautiful, so soft and innocent, definitely not someone who’s capable of hurting anyone.

“He hurt you,” he replied, bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing your bruised wrists, “and so many others, he got what was coming to him.”

“You knew him?”

“Yes. He got away the last time we tried to catch him - but we don’t have to talk about that right now. Are you hurt anywhere else?”

You shook your head, “No, I’m just thirsty and I really want to lay down,” you murmured, resting your head on the star in the middle of his chest.

He pressed a hand to his ear, letting his team know that he had found you. You vaguely saw agents clad in black gear storm the room.

“We did a sweep of the place. No one else is here,” Natasha said. “How you doing?” and then frowned when you didn’t respond.

“She’s tired. It’s okay, love,” he kissed your temple, snaking a hand under your knees and picking you up with ease.

You weakly nodded, wrapping your hands around his neck, glad to be babied by him because you didn’t have the strength to stand.

“They didn’t give you anything to eat?” Nat scoffed as you shook your head.

“How long have I been here?” you looked at Steve, struggling to stay awake.

“A day and a half. We’ll get you fixed up,” he swore, carrying you towards the quinget.

“Where are we?” you nuzzled your nose against the rough kevlar of his suit.

“Bermuda,” he said.

“Oo, I’ve always wanted to come here... just maybe not like this,” you chuckled but Steve didn’t find it all that amusing. You cupped his cheek in your palm, hoping to maybe calm him down a bit before falling asleep.

***

You vaguely heard a familiar voice calling out your name, you’d recognise it anywhere, it was one of your favorites, one you’d known your entire life.

“Mom?” you muttered, opening your eyes and looking around the room to look for her. You smiled when you saw her sitting on a chair just beside your bed, the faint, annoying beeping told you that you were probably in a hospital.

“Hey there, honey,” she smiled back at you, her eyes misty as she pressed her lips to your cheek. “Do you have any idea how much you scared me?”

“I’m sorry,” you tried to sit up as she fluffed your pillow up to support you. “I was... um... kidnapped.” Saying it out loud made it feel so ridiculous. Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought.

“Yes, Steve filled us in on everything. So, Captain America, huh?” she raised her brows.

“Yeah,” you chuckled nervously. Doing a once over to your large, mostly white room to look for him. He wouldn’t just up and leave you, would he?

“How long has it been going on?” she asked.

“Um, three or four months?” you winced when you realised just how much trouble you were in.

“And, you live with him. Linda filled us in on everything. You’re quitting your job too now.”

“It’s - it’s not as bad as it sounds...”

“Never mind that, you need to rest. Then you won’t have to worry about all this. I’m taking you home with me. And you’re never coming back here again.”

“What? No! I still have over two years of school left.”

“You can do it online! You can find just as a good a job in Queens.”

“No! I’m not coming,” you whined.

“Well, you’re not living with a man you barely know either.”

You were interrupted by a knock on the door. A doctor entering, apologising for disturbing you and Steve right behind her. He still hadn’t changed out of his suit.

He stood at the end of your bed, squeezing your foot to let you know he was there for you as your mother glared daggers at him.

“Looks like you’re doing good. Blood sugars back to normal as well...” the doctor said, “You’re free to go home.”

“Really?” you smiled. So done with everything. Sleeping in your own bed sounded like heaven.

“Yes, let us know if you need anything.” She looked over your chart again and then left.

“Good then, you can come home now.”

“No! I’m going to my apartment in Manhattan, the one I share with Steve.” You rolled your eyes. Pleading Steve to back you up with your eyes.

He cleared his throat, “Um, ma'am, you can come stay with us, if you like.”

He held your mothers gaze, to let her know that he was serious and earnest.

He knew he wasn’t perfect by any means. He had a million flaws and cuts that ran deeper than anybody would ever know but he always thought, or maybe arrogantly assumed, that if nothing else he was someone ‘you take home to mama’ as Clint had once put it. He thought that your parents, like most, would like him. That he’d easily get their blessing to be with their daughter. He was known to be America’s golden boy after all.

But your mother had ripped him a new one as soon as she saw him. Accusing him of abusing his power to woo you. That you were here because of him. That he’s not worthy of you.

And all he could do was stand there and take it because everything she had said was the truth. He didn’t deserve you, you were captured and possibly traumatised because of him.

At the same time, he couldn’t just let you go. Not till he gets to the bottom of who had hurt you and makes sure that you’re safe from now on.

“No, thank you.” She scoffed, looking back at you and shaking her head. “What are you doing with your life?”

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes but being with Steve definitely isn’t one,” you looked over to him, he looked just as tired as you, “I just want to go home. My home with Steve.”

“Fine, I’ve always let you make your own decisions.” she sighed, finally giving in.

“And I’ve never disappointed you.”

“That’s debatable,” she snorted, “I’ll come check on you tomorrow then. Maybe send me your address. You know? Something you should’ve done months ago.” She returned to glaring at Steve.

“I’ve only been living with him for a month!” you tried to defend yourself.

***

“I can take off my own clothes, Stevie,” you giggled, him kneeling before you to help you out of the sweets the med bay gave you. Your dress was dirty and ragged now. “I really liked that dress though. I don’t have many like it. You think we can get it back?”

“Maybe, I’ll see what I can do, doll,” he kissed your bare thigh before rolling your panties down your legs.

“You’re kinda dirty too,” you remarked, sniffing him. He didn’t smell bad, as if Steve would ever smell bad to you. Just a bit of gunpowder, like that of firecrackers, a bit pungent instead of his normal piney and woodsy scent.

“Thank you,” he deadpanned before cracking a smile, “I was just excited to see you. Or I would’ve showered before coming home and then I didn’t get a chance to.”

He worked on unbuttoning your shirt He insisted on you getting a button up instead of a t-shirt considering how sore your arms were from being toed up for so long. Tied up... like an animal.

“Hey,” you whispered softly, caressing his cheek, “come back to me.”

“Sorry, I’m just... I don’t know,” he shook his head. He couldn’t let you know the guilt and despair he felt, you’d end up comforting him instead of the other way around. “It’s just been a long day.”

“Yeah. Still can’t believe any of this was real.” Running your hands up and down his suit, the feel of the material almost soothing to touch. “You wanna shower with me?”

“Don’t know, doll. That showers pretty small.”

He did have a pretty generous salary but opted to live in a more modest apartment, he never took more than he needed anyway, with a small shower. Not too small, but definitely not big enough for you both.

“We’ll make do, come on. I’ll make you squeaky clean.”

He took over ten minutes to get rid of the suit. You watched intently as he removed more latches than you could count.

“Is it bulletproof?” you wanted to know.

“Yes. But probably not as good as a vest. I’ve never been shot so I wouldn’t know.” He answered, taking off his undershirt.

“It’s funny because I always thought y’all were naked under there,” you chuckled, and then your jaw dropped as he took off his briefs.

You had never seen his cock while it was soft before. He was always more than excited when you got to him. It was amazing how pretty he looked either way.

“You and so many other people,” he almost shuddered at the thought of having been asked the same question so many times.

After making sure the water was hot enough, you both stood under it.

You took some of the lavender wash you had bought from lush, squeezing it on your sponge. Steve, bless him, was amazing at so many things. Shopping - it seemed was not one of them. All he had in his bathroom was a bar of soap, one toothbrush and a vintage straight razor.

Which just won’t do for you, so you took it upon yourself to stock the whole place up with your favorite stuff. The lavender being Steve’s favorite, you remembered how flustered you got when he told you that you smelled good. And then tried to explain that you always smell good while turning redder than a tomato.

You did his front, asking him to bent his neck a bit so you could wash his hair because he was almost a foot taller than you. You were about to do his legs, you’d take any excuse to feel up his thick thighs but he told you he’d do the rest himself.

Taking the sponge from you, he ran it under some water, working on cleaning you thoroughly. Under your arms, your breasts, your stomach, between your legs and then your legs.

You were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen - he knew that since the moment he had met you. But something about washing you up like that felt so intimate even though there was nothing erotic about it.

After washing you thoroughly he wrapped you up in a towel, “My cute lil' burrito,” he booped your nose.

You puffed your cheeks out, you weren’t sure if you liked that nickname. Observing just how gentle he was with you, helping you into a cotton nightie, as opposed to drying himself off hastily and carelessly before pulling some sweats and briefs on.

“Don’t wear a shirt,” you pleaded, he looked amazing shirtless, but that wasn’t the only reason, you really liked feeling his skin on hours, pressing kissing on his perfect, smooth, golden skin, ”pretty please.” Right now, he’d give you anything you wanted and you intended on milking that as much as you can.

“Alright, doll,” he replied, pulling you up in his arms again as if you were his bride, as you giggled so sweetly, “now, what would you like to eat? No take out, it has to be healthy. And remember my culinary skills are limited,” he said, carrying you to the living room and putting you on the couch as he started working in the kitchen.

“Stevie, I’m not hungry. Well, that’s not true, I’d like some ice cream,” fluttering your lashes at him, “Mint chocolate chip? I’m pretty sure we have some.”

“Of course, puppy,” you smiled, at the prospect of getting a sweet treat and the nickname, “as soon as you eat something.” He added and you huffed in annoyance.

He whipped up a sandwich for you, two for him because he was starving, some peach iced tea so you wouldn’t eat his ear off while complaining.

You only picked at your food, giving more than half of it to him. You truly didn’t feel like eating, instead craving some cuddles with him.

You tried striking up a conversation with him multiple times. Not because you didn’t like silence. You did when it came to him, you could go hours without talking and it would feel so serene and perfect. You never had to talk just for the sake of it when you were with him.

But you had come to read Steve pretty well. He seemed distant and closed off. The air around you both thick with tension. You tried to ease it while telling him about how brave you were while quitting and didn’t cry at all, how Tony dropped by and was apparently stalking you - which was a bad idea because it seemed to make him angry, clench his jaw tight, his brows furrowed as he placed your plates in the sink.

Unsure if you had done something wrong or were mean to Tony, who was technically his boss, you twiddled with your fingers, “Um... I - I’m sorry,” you stuttered, trying to hold back tears. Spending the night at your mom’s house sounded like the better choice now.

“Hm?” he looked back at you, he could do the dishes tomorrow, “what for?”

“I shouldn’t have been snarky with Tony. I know he’s your boss and all that but he’s kinda cocky... And I got really mad when I found out he did like a ‘background check' on me. I mean I get why he would but still. I can apologize to him.”

“No no,” he shook his head, kneeling before you, taking your hands in his, “you misunderstood, love. I’m not mad at you, I could never REALLY be mad at you. It’s Tony I’m angry with, he went behind my back, ambushed you at work.”

“To be fair, you did the same when you asked me out,” you snickered as a blush crept up his neck.

“Right.” He finally cracked a genuine smile placing feather light kisses on your knuckles and the to the bandages on your hands.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” you asked, running your hands through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly with your nails.

“It’s probably better if we don’t talk about it,” he said, laying his head on your lap. Your slight scratching massaging his never-resting head.

“I think we should. My mom said I don’t know you. And to some extent, she is right. I don’t. Maybe I’m just imagining things but... sometimes it feels like you’re holding back.”

He gathered enough courage to look up at you, your almond shaped eyes looking down at his and he knew that he could talk to you about anything. He did. But there will always be that little voice that tells him that he shouldn’t. He would only trouble you.

“Don’t you pride yourself on being honest?” you caressed his scratchy cheek.

He snorted. He really was dense enough to think he was the perfect son-in-law package.

“I just, the way you looked at me, when I killed that man, I’m afraid that you’re scared of me now. That’s the last thing I want. It’s my worst nightmare really.” He leant into your touch.

“Steve, that wasn’t because I’m scare of you. It was because I’m fond of you. You were so strong and brave and you saved me. I liked being the damsel in distress more than I thought,” He chuckled at that, his doubts a bit relieved, “that’s... not all though.” You murmured.

“What is it?” he wanted to know.

“You, um, the fact that you would do that for me... it’s just. I never thought anyone would love me that much.”

“I only regret doing it in front of you. I’m sorry you had to see that or go through any of that.”

“I’m not a child, Steve,” you rolled your eyes.

“Of course not, but you’re you. You’re pure and an angel. I - I’m tainted - tainted by blood, tainted by war - ”

“Steve, that’s not true. You’re not, you’re the pure-est person I know. War and - that doesn’t define you.”

“You wouldn’t feel that way if you knew about all the things I have done, sweetheart.” The sweet nickname he had for you, which now he used in a patronising tone, “I let my best friend die. And I couldn’t do anything about it.”

“What’re you talking about?” you frowned. You heard about Bucky from him and your history textbooks but you don’t remember reading anything like that.

“It’s... something I’m not ready to get into.” He put his forehead on your knee. He knew you loved him but there was only so much baggage you would be willing to accept.

“Okay. You can take your time and tell me if and when you’re ready, baby.” You went back to idly playing with his, “But I need you to know that I love you. Nothing you could ever say will change that. To think that... for a second I thought that you wouldn’t come for me.”

He snapped his head back up, “What?”

“I thought, that you’d be busy with your mission. You wouldn’t even find out I was missing or... you just wouldn’t care enough to come yourself. I mean, I knew you would come, obviously. But you have other more important work...”

“No,” he shook his head, “How could you ever think anything's more important to me than you and your life?”

“Yeah, I was being stupid.”

“You can be a bit silly sometimes, doll.” He nuzzled your tummy, making you giggle. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again. I was so scared I’d never see you again,” he confessed against your nightgown.

“That’d be a bit hard to do. Keeping an eye on me like that. But if it means I get to spend more time with you then I’m down.”

You convinced Steve to let you have some ice cream. He only let you have half a scope, telling you that you’d have trouble sleeping otherwise.

“I’ve been sleeping for most of the last two days.” You tried to argue but it was hard to change his mind once he had it set on something.

You both brushed your teeth together and he stared at you as you went about your night-time skincare routine.

Cleanse, serum, moisturize, sleep mask.

All he did was wash his face and he still looked fucking perfect.

He stayed true to his word, sticking by your side to the point where you had to kick him outside to have some privacy to pee in peace. He was right there waiting for you when you opened the door.

Finally, you were in your cosy bed. Light’s off and cuddled tight with your boyfriend. Your stuffed unicorn and your Captain America plushie to your other side.

With your legs tangled together, you rubbed your feet up and down his legs. Which were unfortunately covered with his sweats.

“Steve,” you whined.

“Yes?”

“Take off these damn pants. They’re hurting my skin. So friggin' prickly.”

“Sorry, doll. I know how precious your skin is.” He sounded like he was mocking you but he followed, pushing his pants away.

“Good?” he asked holding you close to him again.

“Mm-hm,” you hummed against his naked chest. “Let’s sleep like this everyday, please.”

“Sure.” He replied. He liked being a ‘human furnace' for you.

He wasn’t going to fall asleep. Not after everything that happened. He hadn’t slept well in the past week but he was afraid that if he’d shut his eyes for a single moment and you’d be gone. This time, he wouldn’t be lucky enough to find you.

He hadn’t been to crunch or even prayed in a while. Losing his faith a long time ago after all the terrible things he had seen. But he had prayed when he came back found his home to be wreck. He prayed that you’d come back to him because there were some things he just could not control. Nobody could.

After a while he lowly whispered your name. “Are you awake?” he asked.

It was silly but he missed you. Even though you were laying right next to him in his arms - the safest place you could be.

“Yeah. I can’t sleep. Even though I’m so tired.” You yawned. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure?” You snorted. “You’re not a good liar, Steven.”

“Can I ask you something? And you can say no if you want I won’t mind.”

“Sure, shoot.”

“Can I, um, have you? I just need to feel you, sweetheart. After everything – I need to know you’re really here.” he was cut off by your lips crashing on his.

You winced when your teeth clamped together but he soothed your upper lip by nipping at it with his tongue.

“Steve,” you panted as he broke awake, shifting under the sheets and pushing the helm of your gown up.

He placed quick open mouthed kisses all over your thighs, over your stretch marks, spreading your thighs further to accommodate his broad shoulders, he made sure to check in with you again.

All you did was push his head towards your heat, begging him to eat your pussy - as if he needed to be told twice.

Swirling and spreading your glistening juices of arousal around your weeping lips, he dove in for his prize. Drawing patterns on your bundle of nerves before sucking at it harshly, he plunged his tongue inside. Lacing his fingers with yours and pinning your hands down by your hips.

You kept desperately pushing your hips up, wanting more. Arching your back up and holding onto his hands tightly as he lightly grazed his teeth over your clit.

“Say my name, sweetheart,” he demanded against your heat, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure up your spine.

Your orgasm washing over you in waves, electrifying every nerve in your body as you clamped your legs around his head, holding onto him.

He kept lapping you up through it, taking everything you’d give him.

He loved worshipping you - spending as much time as he could between your legs - because you were his goddess but right now, he just needed to feel you.

He climbed up the bed, hovering over you, he pushed two thick fingers inside you mouth till the second knuckle.

“Get them nice and wet, doll.” He instructed.

You moaned around him, making loud suckling noises, “Yesh, Captain,” it came out muffled, what with your mouth full.

“Captain?” he smirked. You had only ever called him that as a joke, he never knew being called that in a salacious way could stroke a fire inside him. Making him them painfully hard in the confines of his tight briefs. He pulled his fingers out of you, pushing his hand down till it was between your legs. Nudging your entrance with them.

“Sorry, it slipped out.” You were too unabashed to feel guilty. 

He scoffed, “Say it again.” 

Pushing his fingers inside you. Pumping them at a fast pace before you even had a second to think. It was desperate and fast so unlike how it is usually between you both. He needed to be inside you but your needs would always come before his. 

“Captain,” you mewled, chewing on your lower lip and holding onto his face. You couldn’t see him clearly in the dark but you still need to look at him. “I told them my Captain would come for me. And you did...” he swallowed your screams with his mouth as you clenched around his fingers. 

“That’s right,” he groaned, sucking your slick off of his fingers, “I’ll always protect you. I’ll do anything for you.” 

Shaky fingers working on taking his cock out of the hard confines of his uncomfortable underwear. He didn’t waste a single second before sinking inside you, as deep as he could. He moaned into your neck, “So fucking tight, doll. Like you were made for me,” he bit your neck. 

Drawing his hips back he thrusted inside you, brushing against your g-spot, making you keen. 

He stopped immediately, propping himself up on his elbows he looked down at your hooded eyes. “You alright, sweetheart?”

You nodded, “Yes, it’s just so good,” as if to prove it you clenched around his length, to make him feel all of you just as he was doing to you. 

He groaned at that, his balls already tightening, aching for release, “What’s the safe word?” 

“Mm... buttercream.”

“That’s right, good girl,” he cooed as you whimpered at his praise as he withdrew his hips again, loving you in a slow soft way. 

Pushing your gown up till it was above your breasts - he didn’t really have the patience to properly take it off. He sucked a spot just above your breast, so you’d remember his love every time you looked at it. Your nipples pebbled and goose bumps painted your skin, with your cunt tight around him he knew you were close. 

Wrapping his mouth around one bud, He pulled and pinched at the other. He stopped his ministrations, he needed to look at you as you climaxed. To know that you needed him at least half as much as he needed you. 

Your face scrunched up as you met your bliss, your nails drawing blood from shoulders - not that he cared in the slightest. 

His hips retracting and thrusting as he lost all sense of rhythm and finesse chasing his end as you laid boneless beneath him. He kept fucking into you, filling you to the brim. 

He heaved above you, making sure not to collapse on top of you. Reluctantly he pulled himself out of you. 

Pulling you close to him, his lips pressed up against the crown of your head, he whispered sweet nothings to you. “My brave girl.” He kissed the tip of your nose. “You’re so strong, sweetheart.”

“Stronger than the hulk?”

“Yes, definitely,” he replied, tracing the bandages wrapped around your wrists. “Now try to get some sleep.”

“Oh, I’ll sleep alright. Thanks to you.” You giggled. 

***

tags will be in the reblog.

this was my longest fic!i know it wasnt the best conclusion to something i drew outover 4 chapters but its the best i could do. sorry for weird format tumblrs mad i had too much fun lol. comments and reblogs are really appreciated!!

[wienerbarnes]

Injury

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 3,127

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, self-deprecation, Bucky cooking

A/N: yall wanted some extended stories of cheek to cheek so i will deliver as long as the ideas come :) also the gif has absolutely no correlation to the oneshot im just obsessed with the new content we got today LOL anywayyyy if yall have any requests for this pair lmk!

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

Bubbles and foam stick to the curves of his palms, both flesh and metal, as Bucky finishes washing his dishes from dinner. He’s gotten closer and closer to perfecting his bao buns; he only tore open one dumpling when twisting them closed and he remembered to oil the parchment paper that lined the bamboo steamer Sharon got him for his birthday.

He shuts the water off and moves to the left side of his sink to begin drying his now clean china. It’s been a peaceful night in his apartment. Alpine shared the seat with him on the couch while Bucky ate his dinner, hoping some pork would slip out of Bucky’s mouth so he could catch the treat. He started watching some cheesy rom-com before getting bored and just shutting off the television altogether, opting to play some music while he completed his chores instead.

Ella Fitzgerald’s voice fades out and Bucky waits for the small silence in between songs to end. The towel pauses on the plate for a moment as the beginning tunes of Cheek to Cheek echo in his apartment. 

“Heaven, I’m in heaven…”

Bucky continues drying off his glass and remaining silverware as you flash in his mind. He hasn’t seen anything about you nor have you left him any other notes or clues since that day he saw you at the fresh market. He hopes you’re okay. Truly. You were thrown into a life you surely weren’t meant to live at such a young age, barely an adult, and then almost put to death for acting out due to trauma that was out of your control.

Almost immediately after Bucky puts the final dry glass in the cupboard, his ears perk up. He’s not entirely sure what the sound was; he pokes head out from the doorway of his kitchen to see a ball of white fluff still unmoving on his couch, the same position as he was ten minutes ago except tiny ears are standing tall and proud now.

Bucky glances at the windows that are visible and they all still have the lock in tact, the door is still locked as well. Bucky quickly examines the mental map in his head and realizes the only other spot having access to the alleyway next to the apartment building besides his living room windows is the large window in his bedroom. He steps back to the kitchen to grab ahold of one of the knives in the drawer.

As he slowly and silently creeps towards his slightly ajar bedroom door, his ears pick up another heartbeat. Quick, stressed beats hit his ears as he draws closer and closer to the door. He pushes the door open quickly to see his window still half open, lock broken and hanging on the sill, and his eyes meet your heaving frame on his carpeted bedroom floor.

Bucky lets out a sigh and tosses the knife onto his bed before crouching down to help you up.

“Geez, you couldn’t have left some sort of ominous note or another friendship bracelet before breaking into my place?” Bucky scolds as he rests his hands on the tops of your shoulders.

You flinch roughly and cough out a “Help,” that quickly catches Bucky’s attention. He’s able to twist your body slightly so your weight is on your bottom instead of your legs and his eyes immediately catch onto the deep gash along your ribs and the blood pouring around your hands. The blood is coming out of the cut so fast, Bucky can almost hear the gushes. Squirts of blood make there way out from in between your fingers and Bucky notices then just how pale you are. 

He stands and runs to his bathroom to grab his spare bath towels along with a first aid kit. You blood ruins his fluffy white towels and soaks them almost instantly as he pops open the first aid kid and grabs the bottle to sterilize your wound along with a needle and surgical thread to stitch you up. It won’t be the best, but it’ll be enough until he can get you to a hospital.

“N-no hospital.” You whimper. Did I say that out loud?

“Stop talking. Ignore me, just-just stop talking and don’t move.” Bucky stutters and soaks the other towel in alcohol to replace the now blood soaked one. 

This back and forth continues until the blood slows down enough for Bucky to get in there and cut away at your shirt to expose your rib area. 

“Christ, were you mauled by a fucking bear?” Bucky mumbles. The cut is bad. Really bad. He’s sorry for the nasty scar that the combination of this cut and his horrible stitching skills are about to leave on your smooth skin.

“I-I saw it coming, too. I saw it, and I-I still c-came over here…” You trail off, voice ragged and wet. He spares a glance at your face; your skin is wet with a mixture of sweat and tears and your brows are turned upwards in both exhaustion and defeat.

“And-and then I noticed this was your building,” A deep breath, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I couldn’t go to a, to a hospital, I’m sorry,” You voice gets more and more panicked with what little energy you have left.

“Hey, relax, alright? I’m gonna fix it, I just need you to relax, okay? Just relax for me, doll.” Bucky reassures you as he threads the needle. This is gonna fucking suck, I’m so sorry.

Bucky plunges the needle through your skin at one end of the cut and you merely tense; he can tell you’re using everything within you to stay as still as possible. 

The torture continues as Bucky tries to sew you up as quickly and delicately as possible. He finally finishes and goes to grab another towel to clean up any leftover blood that’s glued itself dry to your soft skin.

Bucky dabs gently at your skin and the color slowly comes back to your face. You’re staring straight at his ceiling, face seemingly emotionless, but he can sense the anger radiating off your body.  

“You gonna tell me what happened?”

“Stupid Hydra cunts; what the fuck do you think happened?” You snap. The emotion finally comes out in your voice and he glances at you once more. Your eyes are more wet than usual and his heart breaks for you. God, let this fucking girl rest.

“They get away?” 

“Fucking assholes.” You mumble to yourself, as though you didn’t hear him. Bucky watches a small tear exit through the corner of your eyes and he doesn’t need to ask you again to know that they did.

Bucky grabs your hands and pulls you up slowly as to not let you get lightheaded and his metal hand rises to push stray hairs out of your face. You flinch a little bit, but he continues anyway. Now that you’re sitting up on your own, he reaches his arms behind your head and pulls your hair into a loose ponytail with the hair-tie that’s stayed on his wrist even after his haircut.

He can feel you watching him with wide eyes, probably confused as to why he’s treating you with such caution and care when you’re a serial murderer and kidnapper wanted by the entire planet and you’ve just ruined his window and his carpet.

“I’ll give you some clothes to change into. When was the last time you ate?” Bucky whispers to you, voice remaining sweet and so, so, so gentle.

“What?” You ask, mouth twisting into a small, confused frown. Bucky scoffs and pulls you up by the tops of your arms and helps walk with you towards his bathroom. You lean against the wall and he disappears back into his bedroom and returns with a giant long sleeve shirt and soft pajama pants, a pair of socks rolled into a tight ball resting atop the stack of clothes. He rests the stack on the counter and says, “Holler if you need anything.” before closing the door behind him as he exits. 

Bucky likes the modern look, that’s for sure. Simple, grey and white tones with pops of gold to highlight different spots of the bathroom.You don’t even know when it was the last time you were in a bathroom this nice looking.  Definitely before Hydra, but everything good in your life was before Hydra. 

You take a deep breath and remove your clothes before staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your hair, that you’ve dyed a muted purple since the last time you saw Bucky, is faded towards the tips and your dark brown roots have grown out to your ears. You observe the scars and dark freckles that decorate your skin, spending a few extra seconds the new one you’ve collected tonight.

You did this on purpose. You didn’t see you getting stabbed, but you saw Bucky getting stabbed tonight in his apartment. You don’t know why you traveled two hours into this part of New York to rescue him, or whatever it is you think you did tonight. 

That was fucking stupid. You could’ve gotten yourself killed, or worse, caught. All for what, some fucking Avenger who showed you a little kindness while you were on death row? You’re so fucking dumb, you know that? You think you’re some big hero now or something? That this makes up for everything you’ve done? You’re no hero, you’re the farthest thing away from a hero. Who would even-

“Hey, you alright in there? You didn’t pass out on me did you?” Your self-deprecation is interrupted by a certain soldier’s deep voice coming through the door.

“Yea, I’m fine.” You reassure as you grab the clothes and begin pulling them on one by one.

When you exit the bathroom, you come face to face with the soldier himself. Noses are almost touching and you can smell the sweet and tangy scent of whatever he was cooking on his body. You can’t help but lick your lips at the delicious thought of something to eat and you notice his eyes flicker down to see your tongue poke out between your lips. His eyes meet yours again and he clears his throat before turning and returning back to the kitchen. You don’t waste time in following quickly behind.

… 

Bucky slowly stirs the sweet and spicy sauce with the leftover pork from his bao. He didn’t have the patience to sit for an hour twist small dumpling balls, but the least he could do was warm up what remains of the meat. He also threw in a small bag of frozen vegetables in the microwave, which have about three more minutes to them. Sure, definitely not as good as fresh vegetables, but he doubts you’ll care, or even notice for that matter.

It’s when the microwave beeps that he realizes you’ve been in his bathroom for too long. Maybe your stitches popped. Maybe you passed out from what a shitty job he did on your cut. Maybe you’ve been bleeding out on his bathroom floor this entire time and he’s been too busy stirring pork to notice. Maybe you snuck back out the window. Maybe you snuck back out the window but didn’t jump right and now you’re more hurt on the ground of a dirty alleyway.

Bucky switches the heat off and goes to the bathroom to check on you. 

As he nears the door he softly presses his ear against the wood and he relaxes when he can hear the rapid thump of your heart on the other side. He lifts his right middle finger knuckle to tap on the door, “Hey, you alright in there? You didn’t pass out on me did you?” Bucky teases, hoping to God that you didn’t. 

“Yea, I’m fine.” Comes your voice through the door and Bucky lets out a breath of relief.

The door opens and he feels a bit of heat on the back of his neck at the sight of his oversized clothes on you. He sees the stretch of your collarbones above the large head hole of the shirt he gave you and he sees the tips of your now bright yellow painted toes poking out from the sweatpants you’re wearing, which can confidently assume have the waistband string tied incredibly tight to keep from slipping down. His eyes catch your tongue slip out to wet your lips and his throat is suddenly very dry. He clears it and looks back up at your eyes. Jesus, you’ve just been blatantly staring and checking her out for who knows how long, you creep. Bucky turns and returns back to the kitchen to prepare your bowl of pork and vegetables.

He’s never seen someone eat so much so fast. Shoveling food into your mouth, small dribbles of saliva leaking out of the corners every once in a while, your tastebuds overwhelmed by the amount of flavor. You’re on your third serving already, glass of water barely touched and you continue to eat and eat and eat.

When you finally put the last forkful of pork and vegetables in your mouth is when you finally reach for the water and gulp down almost the entire thing. Bucky would be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed. Reminds him of himself when he had his first real meal after Hydra.

Bucky smiles as you let out a loud burp and he reaches to take your bowl and silverware. 

“Thanks, uh, for everything.” You say. Bucky looks over his shoulder from where he stands at the sink to see you looking at the ground.

“Don’t mention it. I, of all people, know what it’s like after, well, you know.” Bucky stumbles on his words.

“Yeah, well, it’s what I got to do, so,” You stand and he notices you look for anything you might’ve brought, even though you both know you had nothing on you.

“You goin’ somewhere? Got a place you’re staying at?” Bucky asks, shutting off the water and follows you as you pass through the living room and back into his bedroom.

“Is that a joke?”

You step back into the bathroom to grab your bloody clothes from the ground and you go back near the window to grab your shoes that you’re pretty sure flew off your feet when you flung yourself through Bucky’s window. Bucky’s hand stops your movement as it rests on your shoulder. He gently spins you around to face him.

“You nearly got yourself cut in half. With all the blood you lost, you should spend the night here.”

“Don’t you think it’s kinda dangerous to have two of America’s Most Wanted in the same apartment building?” You question, trying to find any excuse to get yourself out of here. You did what you wanted to here, even if it was stupid. Don’t go from stupid to moronic by getting comfortable. No matter how inviting those blue eyes are.

“Technically, I was pardoned by the government, so I'm no longer wanted. I can’t speak on your behalf though. But I’m sure two military trained killers can take care of themselves and each other.” 

“You take the guest room and I’ll take the couch. I’ll lock up the bedroom in case those baddies come back ‘round here and I’ll fix up the lock tomorrow.” Bucky walks over to his closet door and slides it open to grab two fluffy blankets from the very top shelf above his rack of clothes.

He turns back to face you and stares at you until you finally drop your shoes back on the ground. He gives you a small smile before walking out of his bedroom. You hear him lock his bedroom door after you exit and stand awkwardly until he can show you where his guest bedroom is.

Bucky can’t help the grin that spreads across his face when he turns around to see you, looking so small in his oversized clothes, folding your hands together, looking around the room, waiting for him to finish up. He chews on his lip hard to make the smile go away as he steps forward and down the hall to the guest bedroom door. He opens it for you and lets you step inside and glance around the room.

He notices the way you look around the room, making a mental note of everything in it, what can be used as a weapon, what can’t, as well as your eyebrow twitch at the realization that there’s no windows and no other means of emergency escape except through the main door. He doesn’t say anything about it, though. 

“I’ll, uh, be out in the living room, if you need anything. Uh, goodnight.” Bucky says awkwardly as you give him an equally awkward smile in return. 

Sleep comes easy to you that night, but you’re sure it has nothing to do with the supersoldier cuddled up with a little white kitten in the living room outside your door.

…

Bucky wakes up later than usual the next morning. Small claws stretch across his large chest as a very hungry kitten is awake and upset that there’s no food automatically in his bowl that morning. Bucky rubs his hands roughly against his face before swinging his feet over the edge of the couch and standing up. 

After peeling open a can of cat tuna and plopping it in Alpine’s cat dish, he leaves the now satisfied kitty to go see how you’re doing.

He gently knocks on the door and opts to slowly move it open when there’s no response. He opens it completely when he realizes the room is completely unoccupied. The bed is completely made and Bucky feels the sheets to feel them cold. He walks back across the apartment to his bedroom to see your shoes gone as well. 

Bucky won’t lie and say he’s not at least a little bummed out. He was hoping you’d stay a bit longer. So that your wound can heal up, of course. He’s not sure if Hydra experimented on you to make you super but everyone needs some good rest every once in a while. 

Bucky lets out a sigh before moving back into the kitchen to begin preparing his own breakfast. 

“Hey, uh, Alexa? Can you shuffle my music library, please?” Bucky asks politely.

He watches the blue circle shift around before familiar trumpets begin to fill the room. Bucky rolls his eyes and breathes out a humorless laugh as he reaches into the cabinet by his legs to take out a pan.

“Heaven, I’m in heaven,”

“And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak…” Bucky sings along softly.

[midnightartemis]

Chapter Four

On AO3

A west bound road from Inverness, The Scottish Highlands, The mid-1700s

Nearly One Day Since the Stones...

The rain lasted the rest of the day, and I was completely soaked through and shivering and covered in mud. Kylo stopped only once to adjust himself, and pull a swath of his kilt around our shoulders. 

I was immediately enveloped in warmth, and I didn’t complain when he pressed himself tightly against me. It was the only way neither of us would freeze to death. We rode hard and fast, trying to catch up with the others I suppose. Only once we were far past Cocknammon Rock and the road to Inverness did we begin to slow. Kylo was quiet, and it was only when he slumped over that I realized anything was wrong. 

“Kylo? Kylo!” I barely caught on to the edges of the tartan plaid as he threatened to fall off the horse. My grip on the cloth was the only thing keeping him on. Something was wrong, but if he fell off now and didn’t wake up, I wouldn’t be able to do anything. I wasn’t strong enough to pick him up. 

Just leave him and ride back to the stones. I hated the thought as soon as I thought it. No matter who he was, no one deserved to die alone on the side of the road. I had seen enough of that in just my lifetime. 

I did the only thing that I could think of, which was to grab the reins and pray that the next group of travellers I stumbled upon were my kidnappers. I managed to grab Kylo’s arm, lock it over my shoulder, and push the horse down the road. He wakes a moment later, grabbing me around the waist so roughly we almost both go flying. 

“You’re an idiot, you know that! Where is it?”

“Where’s what?”

“Your wound!”

“Hmm. Bullet. To my thigh. It’s nothing.”

“Like hell it’s nothing! You just passed out on me. And if I don’t get you to your men fast you’re going to pass out again and die in the middle of the road because you’re so damn huge I can’t lift you.”

My ranting gets me nothing but a soft giggle from Kylo. I curse louder against the rain, but my prayers are answered as I crest the next hill and spy a sad, wet group of men and horses plodding through the rain. 

“Hey!” My voice is lost in the rain and distant thunder. Kylo is passing out behind me again and threatening to fall into the pits of mud below us, so I summon all of my strength for a yell that would make a drill sergeant cry. “Help me you bloody bastards!”

That gets their attention and several of them whip around on their horses. As soon as they realize who we are, the men are gathered around us, pulling Kylo off from behind me. I hop down barking orders. 

“Get him somewhere dry. On a blanket. I need antiseptic. Alcohol. Anything that burns. And cloth.” 

He’s laid on the ground, and I waste no time in shoving up his kilt and finding the bullet hole. It’s steadily leaking blood, but it’s not spurting. He would have been fine if he had just attended to it right away, now… I looked at his pale face and the way his eyelids flickered. 

“Where’s that bloody alcohol! He’s bleeding out.” I look up to see the group of scottish rogues looking at me strangely. “What the hell are you looking at?”

“Ye ken there’s easier ways to get into a lad’s kilt, lassie?” A short, burly, bearded man laughed. I shot up and shoved him with all my might. 

“He’s about to die if I don’t do something, ye ken?” I watch as the blood rushes from the man’s face. 

“Here’s your cloth and your alcohol, lass.” A hand gently pulls me away from the burly scotsman and hands me the items. I snatch them from the giant and kneel next to Kylo. He’s going in and out of consciousness. I quickly take the cloth and tie it tightly above the bullet hole in a makeshift tourniquet. Kylo groans. 

“I know it hurts, but I have to stop the bleeding.” That’s just the first piece of the puzzle. If I leave the cloth on for too long, the leg would have to be amputated, but if I tried to sew him up in the middle of nowhere in the 1700s, he would get infected and die anyway. I tip the bottle of alcohol over the wound, trying to clean it. I wash my hands with the strange smelling liquid and ignore the sad groans from the men around me. 

Now that the bleeding has slowed, I’m able to get a better look. If it’s hit his artery, it’s just barely. He would have died a long time ago. “How far is this castle of yours?”

“Less than a day’s ride.” The leader comments. He’s trying very hard to not look worried. “What do you need, lass?”

“Clean cloth. Maybe a needle and thread, but that can wait. The bullet went clean through. He would have been fine if he had stopped and bandaged himself right away, but he didn’t he-” I stop myself as I realize that I was the reason Kylo was laying on the ground. “He went after me.”

The leader nods to the giant and I do my best to cover Kylo from the rain. I can’t do much but pull the edge of his tartan over his shoulders and try to keep him awake. “Stay with me. Okay? Don’t close your eyes you crazy bastard.”

I blink and try to push back my horrible memories of war time. Of the boys dying in the hospital beds at the base and crying out for their mothers. Clean cloth is handed to me and I carefully pack and wrap the wound on his leg. Already, the tourniquet was working, boosting his blood pressure just enough to help him stay conscious. With enough constant pressure it should be enough to stop the bleeding and allow me to remove the tourniquet very, very slowly. 

“We have to keep moving, sassenach.” The leader breaks the stormy silence. 

“Is there a cart or something he can ride in? He needs to be laying down, not over exerting himself. I have to remove the tourniquet slowly or the sudden change could kill him.”

“Then why’d ye put it on his leg in the first place?” The burly Scotsman grumbled. 

“I’ll ride. Dinnae worry, lass.” Kylo's hand brushes my arm and I pull away. 

The rest of the men take this as a sign to go back to their horses and ready themselves for the ride ahead. I realized in that moment that even the wars of the 1900s had their comforts and advantages. The giant helped us back to our horse, but this time I held the reins behind Kylo as he slumped forward over the horse’s neck. I helped him tuck his tartan over his shoulders and gratefully accepted an extra blanket from the giant for myself. It was enough to keep out the wind and the rain. 

To the dismay of all my travel companions, I stopped more often than necessary to check Kylo’s leg and loosen the tourniquet on his leg. To my surprise, he accepted my medical torture without complaint. 

The storm rolled away by evening, but we did not stop. I loosen the tourniquet completely, thankful that there were no obvious consequences. My medical knowledge was basic at best, mostly compiled from basic training and speaking with the nurse girls on base. 

It was enough to save Kylo’s life for now. 

My stomach roared with hunger and Kylo slowly reached into one of the saddle bags to pull out a small loaf of bread. I swapped the reins for it and greedily scarfed it down. It was quite stale, but my stomach no longer cared.  

The sun set and I fell into a deeply uncomfortable half sleep against Kylo’s warm, broad back. My thighs were chafed to bleeding and every muscle in my body ached. Despite the blankets and my slowly drying clothes, a chill was settling deep into my bones. 

“Nearly there sassenach.”

What I wouldn’t give for a hot shower, a hot meal, a warm bed. Henry. 

“Who is Henry?”

I really have to stop speaking my mind aloud when I don’t realize it. It’s gotten me in trouble more times than I can count. I don’t lie though, “My husband.”

He would be, at least. In a little while, for a little while. I shiver, but now I can’t stop. Kylo reaches back and pulls me closer, wrapping my arms up in the tartan cloth around his shoulders. It’s not scary or predatorial, just kindness. Caring even. He wasn’t the terrifying man I at first believed him to be, though I still wasn’t sure about the others. 

The others seemed to try their best to avoid us. I had a distinct feeling that it wasn’t just me they were trying to avoid. The leader and the giant rode ahead of us while the rest rode behind. The burly one was the loudest of them all, talking jovially and singing, but even he seemed muted by my presence. They were all walking on eggshells around me, scared to say anything in case I was actually a spy.

“When we get to the castle, do I get to know their names?”

Kylo is silent for a moment, then he nods. “Ye do. Ye will find them out eventually.”

“You don’t speak like the others.” 

Kylo’s back tenses underneath me. “And ye ask far too many questions for a lass who is not a spy.”

I fall silent at that, unsure now how to smother my ever unbridled curiousness. Darkness has fallen all around us, but in the distance, I think I can see the flickering glow of candlelight in windows. More disconcerting is the fact that I can hear water. That of an ocean, not a lake or river. “Is that it?”

“Aye… Dun Mhuir. She guards the waters of Eilean Sgitheanach.”

“The Isle of Skye.”

“Home to Clan Adharled and its Laird.” I couldn’t see Kylo’s face, but I could feel the way he tensed at his mention of the man. 

“Is this your home?”

“No.” 

I didn’t press him further as we rode towards shore to a small town near the shore. To my surprise, there was a boat waiting for all of us, a ferry which we climbed aboard and rode across the dark black waters. 

My life as I once knew it already seemed like a distant memory. My only reminder was the clothes on my back. As the lights of the harbor town and the castle grew closer, the hope in my chest grew faint. I had unknowingly and willingly walked into my own Alcatraz, the infamous American prison popping into my head as I stared at the formidable stone walls coming at me. 

It didn’t take long for us to cross the straight by ferry and ride through the quiet streets of the harbor down up to the walls of the castle. The light of morning was just beginning to peek over from across the water. 

“The sun will always rise in the east; the stars will always guide ye home. Dinnae be afeard young lass, where ever ye may roam.” 

“I dinnae ken that one.” Kylo says as we enter the courtyard. 

I smile. The poem I was thinking of hadn’t exactly been written yet. “No, I don’t think you would.”

[pafallende]

some notes before we start: canon threads are still available to those who might want them, but aren’t default and will be more limited. @impfiltration‘s pidge is my exclusive pidge for this verse, as the majority of the AU itself was created by zo. other v/ld characters are welcome to play in this verse, and shiro’s relationship with them will depend on how the mun chooses to implement them into the story --- essentially, i won’t write details about any other canon characters aside from the holts to leave room for others to make decisions.

earth was conquered & colonized by the galra, most living humans in the present have never known life NOT under the rule of the empire. the planet isn’t among the most promising or useful, rather largely serves as a port and a source of labour. i recommend reading zo’s post for some better info on some details.

shiro grows up wanting to see space and travel across the galaxies --- he wants to be a pilot. when he begins his standard training as a boy at the galaxy garrison, this is naturally the way he tries to lean. while he’s undeniably got a knack for learning how to fly just about any craft he’s put in, flight skills are not seen as all that useful in a human. at least, not compared to the other promise that shiro shows during his time in the training program.

galra instructors take note of shiro’s adaptability, his ability to think very tactically & strategically, and the great amount of promise he shows when he’s put in to the base-level combat training provided at the garrison.

he’s put in higher level combat training, not standard for garrison students but provided to the few who show potential to be good soldiers for the empire. he only continues to impress and over time is trained in the use of a wide variety of weapons as well.

though he has grown up under the rule of the empire and their way of doing things is more or less simply seen as just the way things are, shiro does take issue with the more cruel aspects of the galra. he’s used to it, he goes with it and does what he has to for the sake of himself & his family, but he recognizes that the galra aren’t good. much of his frustration, anger, and rebellious thoughts are repressed for his own good.

he also does suffer from his chronic illness in this verse, which affects his muscle function & often causes him pain. it’s seen as a weakness by the galra, but because of the advanced technology the race brought to earth on invading, there are more effective ways of suppressing his disease. he rarely suffers too strongly from any symptoms. ---however, his right arm is particularly affected by the disease and over the years is affected more and more by it. given the potential seen in him, the galra decide to remove the problem arm and replace it not only with a prosthetic, but a weaponized prosthetic at that.

by the time shiro is 19 and “graduating” from his training, the plan is for him to be brought in to the galran military as a soldier --- very much against his wishes. he states that it isn’t the path he wants to take, but doesn’t argue much beyond that when told it isn’t his choice for fear of punishment.

fortunately, a man he met through the garrison intervenes --- sam holt, a powerful diplomat of the empire, one of the very few humans to have such a high position within the government. having spoken with shiro and gotten to know him a little bit, sam knows that the boy dreads life as a galran soldier and thus requests to have him assigned instead as a personal guard to himself and his family.

shiro’s growing anger and more frequent thoughts of going rogue are put to ease, to an extent, by seeing someone so kind in galran uniform. he’s given the job and is incredibly grateful for it.

he works as the personal guard of the holts for several years and is more or less considered part of their family. they treat him like family rather than an employee from day one, and he practically watches katie grow up. wherever the holts go for sam’s job, shiro goes with them --- he gets to see space and other planets like he always wanted to, and he is often allowed to fly the transport shuttles when the family is travelling alone.

disaster strikes, however, when a very well-prepared operation to kidnap the holts is put to action. when intruders enter the home in the middle of the night, shiro naturally leaps to action, but is subdued in mere moments by a sedative.

the holts are taken, save for katie who was the only one to manage evading capture, and shiro feels entirely at fault for the incident.

once he recovers from sedation and is allowed to go back to the side of his only remaining charge, shiro tries his best to comfort her --- and apologize. he knows that she’ll be sent to a new guardian, and that he won’t be going with her. having failed his job in the worst possible manner, the galra will unquestionably return him to the original path they’d set for him, making him one of their soldiers.

katie fights against the thought of going to anyone else and expresses how she wants to go after the kidnappers and rescue her family. it sounds absurd to shiro at first, but the more she needles at him that night, the more appealing the idea sounds. not only does he want to right his mistake and save the holts, who have done so much for him, but he wants to protect katie as well. ...plus, abandoning his position REALLY appeals to the repressed part of him that has always wanted to go rogue against the empire.

it takes some convincing on katie’s side, but shiro eventually caves. the two of them collect what supplies they can without raising suspicion and steal a small shuttle, leaving earth behind and beginning the search for their stolen family.

katie is labelled a missing child, and shiro a traitor and fugitive, believed to have kidnap her. with katie’s father being such a prominent figure, their faces are broadcast to all galra-colonized locations across the universe. there are rewards offered for information, for katie’s return, and a bounty on shiro’s head.

the two travel across galaxies, make pit stops at all sorts of planets, and run into many issues. this is effectively where most interactions will take place, as the thread & plot opportunities are incredibly vast.