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beom1e · 3 years

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SOUL WATCH

everybody had the soul watch app, because everybody was curious to meet their soulmate. it was an app that told you when or how and gave you hints, but never who. and due to all the pressure, you downloaded the app too... just to find out you didn’t even have a soulmate after all.

PAIRING yang jungwon x gn! reader

THEMES soulmates au, highschool au, fluff, humour

matching jewellery was a trend among soulmates when it came to being a highschool student. those that had found theirs wanted to show it off, basically shoving it into the faces of those that were still searching. walking down the corridors was a constant reminder that you didn’t have a soulmate for yourself, as matched couples would walk hand-in-hand with shiny bracelets or be seen wearing those missing piece style necklaces.

mondays. after freeing yourself from the couple-filled hallways, you sat down at your desk and placed your books onto the table with a huff. trying to block out your classmate bragging about meeting their soulmate over the weekend, you noisily checked around in your bag for your pencil case.

then came the clicking of your teacher’s heels as she entered the classroom, and there was a rush of students finding their seats. the squeaking of chair legs and quiet chatter only made you more annoyed at the world. to say discovering you were soulmate-less a few weeks prior had put you in a permanent bad mood would be an understatement.

but everything lit up as soon as yang jungwon appeared in the doorway. he apologised for being late, cheeks flushed and hair windswept. heat rose to your own cheeks at the sight of his sorry smile.

much to your dismay, he was a few seats to the back and to the right of you. he disappeared from your sight, making you slump sadly in your seat.

‘today is international soulmate day,’ your teacher smiled, setting her powerpoint up behind her. ‘as you all may know. there are many types of soulmate links out there, but i want to know about yours. so research and write about it — its origin, its rarity — and hand it in at the end of class.’

not sure what to do, you raised your hand. ‘what if you don’t have a soulmate?’ at the sound of your voice, jungwon looked up from his notebook. he didn’t have a soulmate either.

‘everybody has a soulmate, y/n,’ she reminded you. ‘maybe you entered your details into soul watch incorrectly.’

‘i don’t have a soulmate either,’ jungwon spoke up. you turned in your seat. ‘so what do we do instead?’

‘this is the first time i’m hearing of people being soulmate-less,’ she chuckled awkwardly, slightly panicked. ‘well, you’re both part of the student board aren’t you? just head down to the main hall and help the others set up for the soulmate dance.’

the soulmate dance. just the thought of it made you roll your eyes. you’d never attended, because you didn’t show interest in finding out until those few weeks ago, but you knew how cheesy it was. it was like every other kind of dance, totally cliché and super boring. except, you got to bring your soulmate.

you packed up your things as quickly as possible. as horrible it would be having to decorate for a stupid highschool dance that you wouldn’t even attend, at least jungwon would be at your side. and he must’ve understood your suffering, especially during international soulmate week on international soulmate day that just happened to fall on a monday.

you slung your bag onto your shoulder and followed jungwon out of the door. he walked slightly ahead of you, holding open each door for you which you quietly thanked him for.

when you made it to the main hall, the bright pink colour palette made your eyes burn. ‘this is going to be a long week,’ jungwon sighed, dropping his bag and leaving you at the door. mentally agreeing, you placed your own bag down beside his.

you sort of felt bad for jungwon. it was depressing to know that you weren’t ‘destined’ for anyone, and that you’d have to find someone the old way. he seemed even less of a fan of soulmate week than you were, but he did seem really down about not having a soulmate of his own.

it was wednesday morning and you’d missed your bus. annoyed with yourself, you had to run to the nearest bus stop in hopes another bus would arrive soon. that was where you saw jungwon and his friends, all of them being upperclassmen.

trying not to be seen, you awkwardly leaned against the outside of the shelter and looked off to the side. ‘it’s not like i like them,’ jungwon argued, which earned a few laughs from the boys. ‘why would i ask them to the soulmate dance if we’re not soulmates?’

‘because you don’t want to spend saturday studying alone in your room?’ sunoo teased, ‘if they’re not matched, then you can ask them. no big deal.’

the bus pulled up in front of them. you waited for them to get on before following, avoiding eye contact and taking a seat at the back. ‘good morning, y/n,’ jake turned around to face you. ‘i didn’t know you take this bus.’

‘i don’t,’ you awkwardly replied. ‘i was late and missed my own bus.’

‘are you going to the dance on saturday?’ sunoo also joined in, smiling brightly at you.

‘oh, uh,’ you nervously fiddled with the straps of your bag. ‘no, i don’t have a soulmate.’

‘well, we were just telling little wonie here that you don’t need a soulmate to go,’ jay patted jungwon’s head, making the younger boy complain about him messing up his hair. ‘you could come with us.’

‘thank you...’ shifting uncomfortably in your seat, you looked between all of the boys who were staring eagerly at you. ‘for the offer... but i don’t want to go. it means a lot, i just don’t do school dances.’

the bus conversation was probably the most awkward thing that happened to you that day. or during lunch time, when you took a seat on a bench facing the sports field. there was jungwon once again, playing around with the same friends. you watched as jake gave up on running around and collapsed to the floor, with everyone mirroring his actions seconds later.

you’d always had a crush on jungwon. he was always so sweet and polite, with the perfect balance between humour and seriousness. you saw him as someone you could easily rely on and trust, despite never being close to him. his cheeks always had this natural blush and his laugh was addictive, and he looked so serious whenever he was concentrating. you felt your heart racing whenever he was around, but you never had the courage to confess to him.

as you got lost in your thoughts, you made eye contact with him across the field. panicked, you began packing your things away and into your bag. then you left, trying not to move too quickly so that it didn’t look suspicious.

after classes, you were called into the main hall once again. knowing today you’d have to be painting, you grabbed your change of clothes from your locker and headed into the changing rooms. coming back into the hall, you were met with jake and sunghoon covering each other in the baby pink paint.

you slipped past them and looked around for something to do. and then someone tapped on your shoulder. it was sunoo, who asked if you could help him with painting the banner. jungwon passed by you, sending you a soft smile before hurrying off towards jay. how did he seem to be everywhere?

on friday afternoon, as you were exhausted from all the decorating you’d been doing, you were so glad to be able to go home and enjoy your weekend. the whole week had been a complete disaster, and you now had a strong dislike towards the colour pink. but much to your dismay, the head of the student board asked you to attend the soulmate dance in order to keep an eye on the students. why he chose you specifically, you had no idea.

so on saturday morning, you tried your best to drag yourself out of bed. though you really didn’t want to dress up for a highschool dance, there was an outfit you had in mind. things weren’t going to change, you weren’t going to randomly get a soulmate, but you stupidly had hope things could change.

you spent most of the day considering backing out, but gave in because you didn’t want to disappoint your classmate. you arrived at the main hall an hour and a half before the event, ready to set things up.

a few students were around, moving tables to either side of the hall. a large red carpet was being rolled through the centre of the room, leading out onto the school gardens. you turned around at the sound of your name, bumping into the source. they reached for your hand, preventing you from toppling over.

a shock of electricity shot through your arm, forcing you to snatch your hand back. ‘i’m so sorry,’ the voice spoke, and much to your dismay, it was jungwon.

you felt your heart racing again, heat rising to your cheeks in an instant. ‘it’s ok,’ you reassured him. ‘it was my fault, so i’m the one that’s sorry.’

‘well,’ he smiled. ‘i guess i’ll see you around.’

honestly, you felt like an idiot. he heard loud and clear just a few days ago that you didn’t want to go to the soulmate dance, but here you were. maybe he would realise you were being forced into it, but if he didn’t, then that would be humiliating.

you shook your head to clear yourself of all the thoughts. ‘y/n,’ turning on the spot, you were met with the sight of jay coming towards you. ‘you’re looking lost. i thought you weren’t coming.’

‘change of plan,’ you simply replied. ‘i was asked to help set up some things.’

‘well, i need help carrying some things in from the truck outside,’ he offered. ‘if you’d like to help.’ nodding, you followed behind him at a distance.

the sky was clear — not a single cloud in sight — and the sun was shining brightly. the back doors of the truck were open, workers from the catering company lowering large bottles of drinks onto the ground. jay gestured towards the cluster of fruit juice bottles before grabbing one for himself.

they were heavy, but you managed. walking at jay’s side, you couldn’t think of a conversation starter to make it all a little less awkward. but thankfully, or maybe not, he spoke up first. ‘you do know that jungwon has a crush on you, right?’

the bottle fell from your grip. panicked, you reached forward to catch it again. clearly the universe was on your side in that moment, because it didn’t split.

‘uh, no,’ you forced out a laugh, feeling your entire body heat up. ‘i did not know that.’

‘he denies it,’ jay shrugged, helping you lift the heavy bottle back up from the ground. ‘but we all see the way he looks at you. after he found out you were soulmate-less too, he wanted to ask you to the dance tonight. but when you said you weren’t going, he gave up on that idea.’

what were you supposed to say to that? as you placed the bottles beside the snack table, jay pushed them under it. turning around to see jungwon on the other side of the hall, you felt yourself swallowing your words before leaving to the outside again.

but avoiding jungwon wasn’t as easy as you had hoped. he seemed to be in your line of sight at all times and in all honesty, you weren’t even sure why you were avoiding him. after all, if what jay said was true, then the feelings were mutual. still, you couldn’t shift your mind away from the shock you had felt at his touch. you thought maybe you were going crazy and had imagined it, until your phone buzzed with a notification.

leaving jay to bring in the rest of the drinks, you leaned against the exterior wall and pulled out your phone. a notification from soul watch lit up your phone, 0 days until you meet your soulmate. eyes wide, you looked around the area, hoping to see someone checking their phone in that same moment. was that even possible?

you weren’t sure what to do. search for your soulmate? or would they just come naturally to you? did this mean jay was your soulmate? it was a possibility, considering you were with him when the notification came through.

‘you coming inside?’ speak of the devil. you quickly hid you phone, putting on a fake smile and nodding. ‘people will start arriving soon.’

as soon as the hall began to fill up with people, you wished you had never came back inside. you really needed some time and space to think everything through. there was that electricity when jungwon had helped you up, but then you should’ve gotten the notification in that moment, right?

you grabbed your phone from your bag, going out into an empty corridor. sliding down the wall beside the door and pulling up the soul watch app, you searched your profile for details. but all the information it had was about your soulmate link, which happened to be a countdown. and now that the countdown was over, there were no more hints?

you were in complete disbelief, but the soulmate dance wasn’t the place to be researching this.

‘i guess you got it too,’ you looked up to see jungwon. ‘you’ve been avoiding me all day, so you must’ve.’

‘i have not been avoiding you,’ but the redness of your cheeks suggested otherwise. ‘and got what? i don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘a sudden notification that you’ve possibly met your soulmate...?’ he sat down beside you.

‘well actually,’ you could’ve laughed at how stupid you were about to sound. ‘i was avoiding you because of what jay said earlier. and i thought there was no way you could be my soulmate otherwise i would’ve received the notification after we bumped into each other.’

‘who else could possibly be your soulmate?’

‘what’s that supposed to mean?’ you turned your head to make eye contact. he quickly looked away and down at the floor, wishing he hadn’t been so bold with his last statement. jungwon was never this forward with people he wasn’t yet close to.

‘i know jay told you that i like you,’ he admitted. ‘and i’ve always known that you like me back. i just never thought to bring it up because i didn’t have a soulmate, and i thought you would have one.’

‘but you have a soulmate now,’ you reminded him, a smile lighting up your features. ‘or... however that works. do you think it has to do with us touching for the first time back then?’

‘you felt that too?!’ his eyes widened as he stared back at you. ‘i thought i was going crazy.’

‘do you want to go back inside?’ you gestured to the door into the main hall. jungwon shook his head, standing up and holding his hand out to you.

‘we could...’ he trailed off, looking behind himself at the exit. ‘or we could ditch this snooze fest and do something fun instead... like go to an arcade?’

‘sounds like a plan,’ you took his hand, letting him pull you up from the ground. he checked if the coast was clear before running towards the exit, the sound of your laughter filling the empty corridor.

#enhypenwriters #enhypen #enhypen au #enhypen fluff #enhypen oneshot #enhypen oneshots #yang jungwon #jungwon #yang jungwon au #yang jungwon fluff #yang jungwon oneshot #yang jungwon oneshots #jungwon au #jungwon fluff #jungwon oneshot #jungwon oneshots

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dinuhsoar · 4 years

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ᴛᴏɴᴇ

― Corpse x fem!reader

Warnings: language, poorly written synopsis and imagine tbh, gif has nothing to do with imagine, possible typos,

Synopsis: Y/n is playing Among Us when her toddler of a brother starts crying. Y/n asks for help- apparently, Corpse just needs to speak. A somewhat discontinued part two of Flowers and Crowns

Cali's message: Evening everyone! As you all know, I'm not a huge fan of Corpse. However, I like reading imagines about him because they're cute and take my mind off of my struggles! I am truly sorry that I haven't been posting. Requests are open for pretty much anything. Be kind and have a lovely day! And you guys actually liked Flowers and Crowns?? Tf are you on? Clearly this one is better- but, thank you for reading Flowers and Crowns and supporting me!

Gif credit: @adventurelandia

@haikyuu-appreciation-club wanted this, so here it is, love!

You and the gang have been playing Among Us for the past hour. When the games always started, you were right on top of it, immediately saying who the imposter was. And now? Now you were first to die everytime.

You've scanned. Corpse and Toast both watched you. And you were positive they were not the imposters. So when they, Corpse, killed you in decontamination, you were so livid.

You tried ranting to the people on your stream, you really did. But they kept saying, 'of course it was Corpse,' and, 'oh look how red she is.' Now that, that much was true. No matter how devilish that move Corpse and Toast pulled, you could forgive him.

You told your stream that you'd be back, the sudden cries of your brother flooding your ears. In the time it took for you to get to his room, make him stop crying, and return to the stream with him, the game ended. And apparently it has ended for a while now.

When you rejoined you heard familiar voices as you slipped on your headset.

"-and I find it quite offensive that you just insulted her while she wasn't present." Corpse had said. What was this going on about?

"Hello guys! Sorry for leaving, my brother was crying again." You laughed, and Corpse smiled like a sick puppy. Your laughter to him was sweet sounding and it held a sense of longing. He concluded that your laugh was normal awhile ago, so a normal laugh shouldn't be affecting him the way it was now, right? "Um, Corpse," you began, quite awkwardly as it was dead silent on the stream, "what was that about? The offensive thing? I joined halfway-"

"It's nothing to be hypervigilant about, Y/n. I took care of the situation." Corpse couldn't feel the flutter in your stomach, but everyone on the stream did as your face was red.

"Ahem, sorry to ruin your spotlight, but could we start?" Sykunno asked, softly lulling his head back.

"Just give me a second, Sy." You left them. Again. Groans and moans of protest is what they did. But you couldn't hear them.

"Which one, bubba? Hm? Carrots or peas?" You reached for the carrots, then heard him scream, "peas!" You were sure the stream heard it, and possibly your friends too. "Fine, fine," you rushed out, opening the can and getting a spoon. "Spill any and I will disown you, ya' hear?" Of course you were joking, but the look on his face was priceless. "Lets get you going." So you picked him up and set him in your lap as you sat back down, letting him eat.

"I'm back this time, for real."

"Good, because I'm not waiting any longer." Sykunno sassed back and pressed hard on the mouse to click start.

And just your luck, you're the imposter with Rae.

You took in a breath and left dropship, running to the node near office. It was probably the most frequently used node anyways. Standing there and awaiting your victim, you saw Rae run past. You immediately followed her into office and down to specimen. She just stood there and you went up to the decontamination in lab, waiting your victem. Toast talked in, and you got out and he went to download. You killed him then went back up to wait.

On Rae's end, she'd go on to kill Sykunno and James before they could even report Toasts body. And so when Corpse has arrived, on your end too, oh boy.

You stood over the growing pile of bodies, and when he saw you, he froze up. On one end, how was someone so sweet sounding, so, so very innocent, do this?

But you did not hesitate. He was vulnerable.

You killed him, laughing into your mic as you did so.

The game ended, and you assumed Rae killed along the strip of decontamination and not just lead them to the pile.

You looked down at your younger brother, smiling at him as he spilled some peas. Immediately his face went white, his lip curling and fists balling as you grabbed his can to place on the desk.

"Hey, hey, don't cry now."

But he would not stop.

"Do any of you know how to make a baby stop crying?" A chorus of 'no's' were heard and you groaned.

"Corpse? The least you can do is think of-"

"Tell him that-"

And with very little words from Corpse, he's stopped crying. However, his head turned away from your shoulder and looked around the room.

"Bubs, he's not in here. Would you like to say hi?" Carefully, you placed the headset on your brothers head, carefully watching his face for any discomfort.

You could faintly hear the others voices, Rae breaking into straight baby talk. When Corpse spoke again, your brother had a mixed face that looked like he was about to cry but laugh at the same time.

"Corpse, you began, taking the headset back, "thank you for making him stop crying." You tightened your grip on his waist, pulling him closer.

You all played a few rounds more, but you decided to them leave to put your brother to bed. Once he was in bed, you got a message. Opening the message app and seeing who it was made you smile some more.

'Hello Y/n! You remember when you said, '"he's not in here?"' Could we arrange that? I'd love to meet you both!'

What? Corpse wanted to meet you?

'I- you- what about your identity? Or-'

'It'll be fine, I trust you.'

'I can be there in a few days?'

'Perfect! See you then!'

Shutting of your phone you ran into your bedroom and screamed into a pillow. You were going to meet Corpse! But what if he didn't like you? Or what- no! You were getting ahead of yourself.

'Goodnight Corpse,' you sent.

'Goodnight Y/n.'

And little did you know, he fell asleep that night.

#fanfic #x reader #writing #shit writing #corpse x reader #corpse husband #corpse #corpse imagines #corpse among us #corpse fic #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband imagine #onlyhands #idk what to do #like tag wise #among us #honiebee

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jackrrabbit · 4 years

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im glad your opening asks for haikyuu bc not to be a whore or anything but i want to be wrecked and degraded majorly by oikawa. like ill let that man stomp on me of he were real😌

Fanatic [pt. 1] /// Oikawa x f!Reader (18+)

A/N: Skipped ahead in my asks a bit to answer this yummy little req!!

Summary: Oikawa takes advantage of a devoted fan for some stress relief after a bad match. [Part 2]

Warnings: noncon, bullying, degradation, humiliation, manipulation/coercion, crying, basically Oikawa is mean to you, yandere vibes?, shy reader, oral fixation/saliva, all characters adults

You’ve been in love with Oikawa Tōru since you were 14 years old.

Well, love is a strong word—maybe admiration is a better description of the way you feel about him? Or maybe not. Is admiration enough of a reason to attend every game that he’s played for the past 4 years, ignoring the hours of travel and dozens of unexcused school absences? Would admiration explain downloading and rewatching every play and amassing a collection of all his press mentions and magazine articles, to the point where there’s a table in your bedroom devoted to him that your friends have jokingly dubbed the “Oikawa shrine”? Was it admiration that made you transfer high schools in the middle of your third year just so you could join the Aobajohsai cheering squad?

No, the word you’re looking for isn’t admiration. It’s fanaticism. Look, you’re not proud to be such a die-hard, but you can’t help it. It’s not even romantic for you. You’ve never wanted to be his girlfriend. The look of joy on his face when he scores is all the reciprocation you need for your feelings.

You’re not an admirer, you’re a fan. You could watch Oikawa score points until the end of time—which is why your heart breaks a little bit every time he loses.

Really, you just want to cheer him up. Is that so wrong?

“Do I know you?” Oikawa’s head is cocked to the side, but he couldn’t look less interested. You fidget under his stare—he’s even taller in person than he looks on the court—and wonder if maybe it was a bad idea to wait in the hallway for him like this. It’s not like you were trying to corner him or anything, you just wanted a chance to tell him not to worry about losing the match.

When you can’t find the voice to answer, Oikawa’s eyes narrow and he leans in toward you a fraction. “Oh…wait. I’ve seen you before. You’re on the cheering squad, aren’t you? That third-year transfer? You’re in Makki’s class.”

You nod rapidly. Who knew it would be so hard to talk to him in person? You really should have rehearsed what you were going to say.

“So…” he prompts.

“Um, I—“ Why is your mouth so dry? “—I just, I wanted to say, I mean I know you lost but, well—“

“Spit it out.” He’s not smiling. In fact, he looks annoyed. You’ve pretty much only ever seen him beaming out of your TV screen or concentrating during a game, so this is new.

And how can you blame him? Aobajohsai just lost brutally on a block from his serve, and now he has to deal with this random fangirl who can’t untangle her tongue long enough to eke out a full sentence. You’re an idiot. “I—sorry, I just wanted to say as a fan that you looked really cool out there! So don’t—don’t worry about…you know. Um, losing.”

He looks at you a second too long, and inside you’re kicking yourself. Just your luck that the first time you meet your idol in person, you’re incapable of talking to him like a human being. But after a long moment passes, he rocks back on his heels and smiles, his face so neutral and handsome that it’s hard to even remember he was almost glaring at you a moment ago. “What’s your name?”

“Um, it’s (Y/N)…”

“(Y/N)? Ah, okay. Thank you.” Oikawa tilts his head back and runs his fingers through his bangs, and your eyes trace the motion unwillingly. His hair is damp from his post-game shower, dripping cold water onto the towel draped over his shoulders. “To be honest, I’m in a bad mood right now.”

“Oh, well—of course! I mean, no one would expect you to be happy, not after you just lost.” Stop rambling. “And, you know, you should take time to think but if there’s something—anything I can do to help—“

His eyes glint and he takes a step toward you, close enough that you have to tip your head back to meet his gaze. “Anything? You’ll do anything?”

There’s something about the way he says anything that makes you want to take it back. But how could you? You’re his #1 fan. You’d do his laundry for a month if he told you it would make him feel better. Your chin bobs up and down in agreement.

“Really? Thanks, (Y/N)! I think there’s something you can do to help me out.” Your cheeks flush pink at his praise, and you’re so thrilled that you barely even notice him grabbing your upper arm with a grip so tight it hurts. You do, however, notice when he starts steering you down the hallway into into the men’s bathroom.

“Um…I think this is the men’s room,” you tell him nervously as he folds the two of you into a single stall.

“Don’t worry, there’s no one in here.” Oikawa backs you into the stall before turning and sliding the lock shut with a click.

“But why are we—ah?” Your statement is cut off abruptly as Oikawa reaches toward you, immobilizing your jaw so he can forcefully shove two fingers into your mouth. You don’t want to hurt him, so you stop yourself from indulging your immediate impulse and biting down. What are you doing? you try to ask, but with Oikawa holding your mouth open the question comes out as a series of unintelligible gurgles.

When your frantic gaze meets his, he looks…different. He’s smiling, but it’s not the innocent grin he shows to the press or his teammates or his fans. There’s something wrong with his eyes.

It takes you a second to place the emotion, but when you do a chill passes through you. Oikawa looks angry.

Your arms twitch at your side—should you try to pry his hand out of your mouth?—but before you can make a move his other hand pushes your shoulder into the door of the bathroom stall. You can’t move. You can’t break his grip. He’s so much stronger than you.

What is happening?

“Hey, want to know something?” As he speaks, his fingers swirl around your mouth invasively. “When I saw you in the hall, you looked really…pathetic.”

Pathetic? It’s nothing you haven’t said to yourself, but hearing it from the man you’ve idolized since you were in middle school is agonizing. You try to swallow down your unhappiness, but you can’t—not while Oikawa is still forcing your jaw open.

“Yeah…” he says, an air of dark amusement coming over him. “Waiting for me and begging for my attention like a little puppy dog. Thinking you’re going to make me feel better. What did you say you’d do for me?”

You said you’d do anything. How were you supposed to know he’d meant…whatever this is?

“Anything, right? You said you’d do anything for me?” His fingers probe deeper into your mouth. “Can you try to say it?”

“Eh— An— hin—“ you choke out, well aware that you’re not making sense. Your eyes squeeze shut so you can concentrate on not gagging.

“Mm-mm, not quite. You’re not trying hard enough.”

You try again, but you can’t make your mouth form the right syllables. Why is he asking you to do this? Why are you letting him?

And why is his knee nudging your legs apart?

The effort of trying to speak with your mouth held open is making your jaw ache, and you can’t stop your saliva from spilling over your lip and onto your chin. Oikawa’s thumb leaves your mouth to wipe the drool off your face. “That’s kind of disgusting. Can’t speak in full sentences, can’t control yourself…what exactly are you good for?”

Your cheeks burn and you almost want to cry. It’s not your fault you can’t swallow properly. You shouldn’t be tolerating this, you should just bite down and make him deal with the consequences…but you know you won’t.

“Say ahh,” Oikawa tells you, tipping your head back to face his. He’s leaning in—wait, is he going to kiss you? No way, that’s impossible. Why would he be so mean to you and then turn around and treat you nicely? Still, you can’t keep your stupid heart rate from speeding up as he gets closer and closer, his eyes never leaving yours—

Until he spits. Directly into your open mouth.

His saliva feels disgusting—warm and sticky and foreign as it sits on your tongue. Oikawa releases his hold on your jaw but you don’t move, instead just standing there with your back to the stall door, staring at him in shock. Your mouth hangs open like you’re…showing it to him or something. What are you supposed to do? Spit it back out? Or—

“Swallow.”

You shake your head. You don’t want to swallow. You don’t want to have his spit in your mouth at all. If you think of it as if the two of you had kissed, it’s not even that bad, but you didn’t kiss. He did this to you to make you feel filthy, and it’s working. There are tears springing up in your eyes, and you’re certain it wouldn’t take much for them to fall.

But he’s not moving, he’s not letting you past him, and you can’t keep your mouth open forever. Maybe if you do this you can apologize for…whatever you did that made him so angry, and he’ll let you leave. Logically, you know that swallowing his spit shouldn’t feel any different from your own, but it does.

Oikawa watches the movement of your mouth and throat carefully as you give up and swallow. This is weird…the whole situation is strange. It’s not like him to do these things to a fan, but he’d been upset about the match and you just showed up and said all the wrong things so sincerely that he was caught off guard by how much he wanted to bully you. There’s something about the contrast between then and now—your shy, eager expression when you were rambling to him in the hallway versus you swallowing his spit looking like a kicked puppy—that he finds adorable.

Adorable? Yeah, adorable. Your pitiful face is so cute it’s making him hard.

Well, what do you know. Looks like you’re going to help his bad mood after all.

“I guess that’s one thing your mouth is good for,” Oikawa says. Your eyes jerk up to meet his and then slide off to the side. You can’t even look at him. He’s grinning at you—laughing at you. He’s enjoying this.

“I don’t—“ You have to stop mid-sentence to swallow again, trying to pretend your mouth doesn’t feel repulsive inside. “I don’t understand? I just wanted to cheer you up…”

“Did you?” Oikawa steps back and tilts his head to the side again like he’s assessing you. “Let me guess. You’re trying to get fucked, aren’t you? Saw me on TV and thought this was your chance to try out the real thing in person? You’re not the first.”

“That’s not true!”

“Are you sure? You’re saying you never wanted me?”

You shake your head from side to side, but you can’t muster a verbal denial. Your intentions had been innocent when you approached him, but the truth is…you’ve thought about it. You’re not one of those fans who thinks they’re destined to fall in love with their idol, but it would be a lie to say you’ve never…fantasized, late at night when you’re by yourself, about him kissing you and touching you and treating you like a princess. And when the fantasies get a little more heated, you have a habit of letting your hands drift down between your legs…

In your imagination, Oikawa is kind. Gentle. He cares for you. It couldn’t be farther from the truth.

“I don’t believe you,” he says, and he reaches up under your skirt to rub roughly against your panties. “This pussy is begging to get filled up.”

“Wha— You’re wrong—“ Your hands are trembling when you grip Oikawa’s shoulders, intending to push him away from you, but then the fingers prodding at your panties find your clit through the fabric and it’s all you can do to stay standing up. “Haahh…wait…”

“Wow, you’re soaking through your panties. I spit in your mouth, and you’re getting off? What kind of dumb girl…”

“No I’m not!” But the truth is slicking onto Oikawa’s long fingers as he rubs the length of your slit. The friction of your damp panties between his index finger and your sweet spot is excruciating. Your toes curl inside your shoes, and you’re only half aware of the way your vice-like grip on Oikawa’s shirt is actually pulling him closer.

“Dumb…stupid little slut…trying to deny it but you want me to fuck you, don’t you? You wanna cum?” His breathing is getting heavier along with yours as his fingers swirl around your sweet spot. “Gonna cum for a man you barely know? Tell me you want it.”

“Ah—I—no, I—“ You bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning. Whether or not you can admit it, you’re not going to be able to stop yourself if he keeps touching you like this…

Except that he doesn’t. He pulls his hand out from under your skirt with you right on the edge, leaving you aching and tense and so frustrated that you want to hit him. “You-You’re stopping?”

“You don’t get to cum. You don’t deserve it.” He studies you for a minute—your flushed cheeks, rumpled clothing, and the unadulterated despair written across your face—and then places his hands on your shoulders and pushes you down. “Get on your knees.”

With him forcing you down, your knees buckle easily and smack against the bathroom floor, sending a spike of pain up through your legs. Your natural aversion to touching the floor of a men’s bathroom is overruled by the knowledge of what he’s asking (not that he’s asking) you to do to him, and you scramble backward until the back of your head raps against the side of the stall. The sharp impact stuns you for a second, and Oikawa wastes no time in twisting his fingers through your hair and dragging your face toward his crotch.

His dick is already out, stiff and throbbing red while he pushes your cheek into it. You try to recoil, but Oikawa isn’t letting you get away. “Open up, (Y/N). I’m going to put that mouth to good use for once.”

It’s hard to shake your head with Oikawa’s fingers in your hair, but you manage, at least enough that he understands your refusal. He clicks his tongue, the gesture almost playful. “You said you’d do anything to make me feel better. Was that a lie? You were fine with me fingering you—don’t tell me you’re going to back out now.”

That’s not fair. You don’t want to do this. He’s being so mean to you.

“Anything…” Oikawa says in sing song. The hand that was tugging your hair lets up a bit and he combs through it gently. It’s the first remotely kind thing he’s done to you.

You wish you had the guts to tell him to leave you alone. You wish you were confident enough that you wouldn’t take his insults to heart. But you’re spineless, and whatever courage you possessed before this has already been crushed. So you open your mouth.

Oikawa’s cock is…salty, already dripping with precum while he nudges it onto your tongue. He slowly leans his hips forward into you, pushing a little deeper into the irresistible warmth of your mouth. His hand, gently cradling the back of your head, doesn’t push you down, but it doesn’t let you pull back either.

Ah, this is wrong…it’s fucked up that he’s getting off on this. Regardless of what he said earlier, he’s well aware that he’s the deviant here. Your misery and shame really shouldn’t be a turn-on for him. But it had been such a bad loss, and he’d been in such a nasty mood, and the feeling of your tongue squirming against the head of his cock is really taking the stress right out of him.

Maybe he deserves this. You’re his new favorite method of stress relief.

“Mm…yeah…yeah, stay still like that and let me use you…that’s all you’re good for.” His voice gets progressively huskier as he fucks your mouth, his cock getting a bit deeper into your throat every time he tilts his hips into you. He’s so thick and heavy between your lips that even if your jaw wasn’t already sore from how he held it earlier, it’d still be aching now.

By the time his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re trying to push his thighs away from you. It’s useless, though—even with just a single hand in your hair, he has no trouble keeping you exactly where he wants you. His cock is just as big as the rest of him, and he’s almost triggering your gag reflex even with just half of it in your mouth.

Oikawa thrusts again and the head of his cock hits the back of your throat, making you seize up around him and earning a grunt from him. “Fuck…that felt good, do it again.” He holds you down and pushes himself deeper, forcing you to dry gag around the heavy mass filling up your throat.

The way you’re twitching against him must feel good—you can tell by his huffs of breath and the half-coherent backhanded compliments about how how were made to suck cock. His huge hand is rigid in your hair, fingernails scratching thoughtlessly into your scalp. “Yeah…taking me so deep, you really are a whore aren’t you? My personal cheerleader cocksleeve…gonna wait for me after every game and take my cock just like this? You know, maybe I’ll fuck you before I play…I think I’ll hit better if I know you’re in the stands cheering me on with my cum dripping out of your pussy…”

You want to be somewhere else, anywhere where you’re not forced to listen to him tell you how worthless you are while you hold back your gag reflex. Your jaw is cramping, and your pussy is still traitorously wet and unsatisfied. Is what he’s saying true? Are you really that useless? Why is it so wrong that you like—you liked him? Why are you being punished for being his fan?

Oikawa looks down when he feels your hands stop pushing at his thighs. Repressing a growl of annoyance, he pulls your head back off his dick so he can haul your body up and meet your eyes. God, you’re wrecked—hair mussed and tangled, spit dripping down your chin, eyes rimmed with red—and you’re crying. He feels a tug in his abdomen while you sniff and try to wipe your tears away. “You look ugly when you cry.”

The insult brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes and you furiously rub at your eyes and nose, but you’re only smearing the tears around. She’s not really an ugly crier, Oikawa thinks looking at you. In fact, you look oddly appealing with your nose all red and teardrops hanging off your eyelashes.

“I-I w-wanna leave—I wanna stop,” you whimper out between sobs.

“Oh...oh, did I hurt your feelings?” Oikawa folds your limp body into his arms and you hate yourself for taking comfort in him and melting into his chest. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t cry.”

“I-I-I—“

“Shh, shh.” He rubs your back in slow circles, steadying your trembling form. “You can’t be so loud, someone will hear. And besides…I’m not done.”

What?

Before you can understand what he said, Oikawa pushes you back down and palms his still-hard weeping cock. “I was looking forward to cumming in your mouth, you know? Since you’re so good at swallowing. I was going to make you show it to me first. But now—I guess you can’t take that, huh? My personal cheerleader is a little too fragile today! That’s okay though, we can save it for next time.” His voice is excited and his eyes are wide with boyish exuberance while his hand pumps up and down the length of his cock.

He’s jacking off. On you.

You try to move out of the way, but once again he holds you in place. “Stop that, you don’t want to cause…a mess…ugh, fuck!”

It’s all you can do to close your eyes and screw up your face before the breath leaves him and he lurches forward. You feel it rather than see it, just like when he spat in your mouth—a hot sticky liquid, this time soaking onto your skin…through…your shirt.

You open your eyes and there it is, a smear of off-white liquid staining your plain green cheering T-shirt.

He came on your clothes. He came on your clothes. He came on your clothes.

“Oi, Oikawa!” There’s an audible bang as the door of the bathroom is slammed open and someone—no, two people—walk inside. A shiver passes through you and you chance a look up at Oikawa, whose gaze is trained on the closed stall door as he tucks his spent cock back into his pants.

“Oikawa?” another voice calls out. “You in here? The bus is waiting for you.”

“Yeah, I’m in here,” he says. You shoot a terrified glance at him, bidding him to keep quiet, but he just winks back at you. As if you’re sharing some fun secret and not hiding with tears in your eyes and semen spilling down your chest.

There are two sharp knocks on the stall door, and it’s all you can do to hold back your squeal of shock. “Hurry up and get out, dumbass. What the hell have you been doing this whole time? Everyone’s waiting for you.”

“Sorry, sorry—“ He pulls you up one more time, this time by the back of your collar like a kitten, and reaches for the door lock despite your best efforts to shake your head violently and telepathically communicate please please please don’t open it— “but I promise I had a good reason. See for yourself.”

You’re seriously considering kicking him in his bad knee and making a run for it, but as always his instincts outpace yours by miles. When the door swings open, Oikawa pushes you out in front of him and directly into the person standing in front of the stall. Who is it? Tall, tan, spiky dark hair—you’ve never spoken, but you know from your extensive practice observing the Aobajohsai volleyball team that it’s Iwaizumi Hajime, vice captain and Oikawa’s best friend. His arms move up to grab you by reflex, steadying you before you’re forced to crash into him.

“Wha—“ Iwaizumi looks just as startled as you feel. Behind him, Hanamaki—the third-year wing spiker who’s in the same class as you—is wearing a similar expression of surprise. For a moment, everything is perfectly still: Iwaizumi holding you by your upper arms, Oikawa grinning back at you from the stall, Hanamaki watching all three of you with an eyebrow raised—

And then, like a scene from a horror movie playing out in slow motion, two pairs of eyes move from your disheveled face down, inch by inch, until both Iwaizumi and Hanamaki are staring at the cum stain on your shirt.

They recognize what it is immediately. Hanamaki grimaces in disgust and Iwaizumi drops your arms like he’s been burned. “Ugh, that’s fucking nasty. You couldn’t wait til we got back to campus?”

“Nah, my little cheerleader was too impatient. I can’t say no to her.” Your gaze swings back to Oikawa in betrayal, but he looks as effortlessly flippant as ever, no evidence of the lie on his face. He steps out from the stall and wraps an arm around your waist, tugging you closer against your will.

The awkwardness in the air is so thick you can barely breathe, but you’re not the only one affected. Hanamaki is resolutely avoiding looking at either of you and Iwaizumi looks like he can’t decide whether to be angry or disgusted. “I mean…still…you shouldn’t be causing trouble for the rest of the team.”

“Hear that, (Y/N)?” Oikawa pats your waist without releasing his grip. “Say sorry to Iwa and Makki.”

You want to escape. You want to run. You want to faint, even, because at least if you fainted you wouldn’t have to experience this humiliation.

“S-Sorry. I’m sorry for c-causing trouble.” The apology comes out hoarse from your raw throat, as if it wasn’t obvious enough that you’d had a cock stuffed down it just a few minutes ago. You duck down into a bow, hating Oikawa almost as much as you hate yourself.

Aaaand, you’re crying again. As soon as you feel the tear trickle down your cheek you swipe at it furiously, but with all attention in the room trained on you it’s impossible that they didn’t see it.

“Look, Iwa, you made her cry!” Oikawa easily pushes your hand down and his takes its place, dabbing at the tears spilling down your cheeks.

To Iwaizumi’s credit, he looks even more horrified at the fact that you’re crying than he did at the cum stain. He steps toward you a bit and then thinks better of it and moves back again, hands gesturing aimlessly in the air. “Whoa! Hey, it’s fine! It’s fine, okay? It was probably this loser’s fault more than yours anyway, I know what a dog he is.”

You have no idea. You gulp and try to stifle your tears. Oikawa’s constant contact (his thumb stroking your face, the arm pulling insistently at your waist—something about it is almost possessive) isn’t helping your anxiety.

“Can we get going?” Hanamaki says after a long moment. “They’re waiting for us.”

Iwaizumi scratches his head and looks at you. “Ah…sorry (Y/N), but I think the cheer squad bus already left.”

“She can ride with us, can’t she?” Oikawa says.

You don’t want to ride with them, but what’s your other option? Take the train for hours with a cum stain right in the middle of your shirt? On the other hand, that might be better than spending another second in Oikawa’s presence. “I...I can take the train…”

Then again, you don’t know why you’re bothering to have this internal debate at all. It’s not like he’s going to give you a choice.

“Don’t be stupid. You’re coming with me.” You flinch at the insult and then regret it, hoping the others didn’t notice.

“Ah, I guess that’s fine,” Iwaizumi says. “By the way, do you…want a clean shirt? I have an extra in my bag…”

He doesn’t meet your eyes as he says it, which is fine because you’re pretty sure you’re incapable of doing so either. Still, you open your mouth to say yes, awkwardness be damned. You’d do anything to get out of this filthy shirt—

“She’s fine,” Oikawa interrupts.

Iwaizumi frowns and looks to you for confirmation, but you can feel Oikawa’s oppressive stare pinning you in place and preventing you from disagreeing. You’re so weak. Pathetic. Just like he said.

You nod shakily to Iwaizumi and he sighs. “Whatever. Let’s just go.”

The three of them file out of the bathroom and for one hopeful moment you think they’re going to leave you there and you’ll never have to see Oikawa again.

But since when do you have that kind of luck?

“(Y/N)? Come.”

It probably sounds like a request to Hanamaki and Iwaizumi, but you know it’s not. It’s an order.

And you follow.

➠ [Part 2]

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tonystarksfavoritedaughter · 3 years

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Crazy Rich Avengers: Chapter 2

Peter Parker x Reader

Chapter Summary: Tony is oblivious, Shuri is a queen as always, Peter is breakfast man and Y/N’s a grandma

Warnings: swearing and one mention of sex

Word count: 2589

*Flashback to Wednesday*

“Alright troops, let’s get this party started.” Tony walked into the debriefing room that was used for only meetings, but this week it had a new purpose: discussing Wanda and Vision’s wedding plans. Everyone was gathered around a circular table with plans and maps strewn out across the table.

“What made you guys want to get married in Maui?” Nat turned to Wanda and Vision. Wanda simply shrugged, “We just wanted to see what the island has to offer.”

“Plus Mr. Stark has that lovely beach house in Spreckelsville,” Vision added.

“Are y’all inviting Peter and Y/N to the wedding?” Sam asked

“Of course! Why wouldn’t we?” Wanda seemed kind of offended that Sam would ask that. She was very close with Peter and the way he talked about you always made her warm inside knowing that he found someone he really loved. She was kind of like a second aunt to him in a way, though no one could top Aunt May.

“Oh, I love Y/N so much. Did you guys tell her happy birthday two weeks ago?” Nat asked.

A couple of ‘I forgot’’ and ‘Oh shit’ replies made their way into the group and Nat just shook her head.

“Wait wait wait. Who’s Y/N?” Tony was so confused. He had never heard of a Y/N Y/L/N before. Was she an employee close with Wanda? And why was she with Peter?

“What do mean who’s Y/N?” Steve asked.

“She’s Peter’s girlfriend, Stark.” Bucky stated it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. And it kind of was. Peter would come into the Compound on the weekends sometimes for training and just gush about you to everyone and even Bucky seemed to know who you were. And he never pays attention to Peter. Tony just sat there, not knowing what to say to hearing his intern having a girlfriend.

“Pete has girlfriend?” How come you all knew and I didn’t?”

Thor took a swig of his drink. “Because you do not listen to the Man of Spiders.”

At this moment Shuri, T’Challa, and Okoye walk in, with papers and blueprints in only T’Challa and Okoye’s hands, while Shuri sips her iced coffee, like the bad bitch she is.

“Hey what’s up losers?” She walked in and took the papers from their hands and spread them out on the table. She turned to Wanda and Vision. “Okay so I developed a knew sound system for the reception that does not require a DJ, and you can choose which one you want!” They all look at the plans and sure enough, there were about four different designs that they could choose from. Wanda and Vision had put Shuri in charge of all the technological elements of the wedding because she was clearly the smartest out of all of them.

T’Challa stepped up to the table. “Sorry we are late; my sister had to bring all of her designs and took about three hours to pack.”

“What? I have to look my best for the wedding. We all know you just throw clothes into a suitcase and call it a day.” She turned towards everyone else. “The only shoes he brought were his flip flops.”

“What you don’t like my royal sandals?” He puts up his foot to show off his shoes and turned to Okoye for support. She just shook her head. “I’m not getting in the middle of this, but if I were to choose a side, I agree with Shuri.”

Shuri laughed in T’Challa’s face and fist bumped Okoye and he looked at them and shook his head.

“What do you two know what fashion?” He asked.

“More than you,” they both said at the same time. This got everyone laughing around the table and Steve did his classic belly laugh where he grabbed the side of his chest and basically fell over.

Shuri turned to Wanda, “So, whose all invited to your big day?”

“Well, we invited Peter and Y/N –“

“Yes! Sorry I just can’t wait to meet her for the first time. Go on.”

Wanda laughed, “Aren’t we all? Also, Peter’s friend Ned is invited because he helps us all out on missions. What is it he calls himself?”

“The Guy in the Chair,” Vision replied.

“Ah yes, and of course all of you people. We wanted to keep it small,” Wanda finished.

“You know,” Sam started, turning to the royal bunch. “Stark over here didn’t know that Pete had a girlfriend.”

“What?” They all three gasped.

Okoye spoke this time, “We live all the way in Wakanda, and knew about this. You live twenty minutes away.”

“We know. It’s ridiculous,” Rhodey spoke.

“Okay and is there a specific song that you are walking down to?” Shuri asked.

“We chose the song ‘To My Future Wife’ by Mr. Jon Bellion,” Vision replied

“Oh, I love his songs!”

“We figured it represented our love for each other,” Wanda looked at Vision and gave him a peck on the lips, with hearts in both of their eyes. A bunch of aw’s filled the room as a response to the couple.

*Flashback ends*

You wake up at around three thirty in the morning to your alarm. You were essentially trapped in Peter’s arms and had to pry yourself out to get up and get ready. You threw a pillow at him to wake him up.

“What was that for?” He groaned.

“Come on. We got to get up or we’ll miss the flight.”

He got up with a sigh and got ready. He just dressed in jeans and that tight black t-shirt that you loved. Why would he pick that for a flight? You bit your lip and just turned away getting ready yourself. You picked out your black leggings and a white shirt because you wanted to be comfy for the 12+ hour flight ahead of you.

You packed your purse as your carry on which had your phone chargers, headphones, perfume, you know, the essentials for flying.

“What are we going to do for breakfast?” He asked. Peter was a breakfast man and so deciding what to eat in the morning was very important for him.

“There’s a coffee place at the airport; don’t worry, Pete.”

You left your apartment at around four in the morning and made sure that everything was turned off and nothing was out of the ordinary. You two take an Uber to JFK and almost fell asleep again. One thing was for sure, you were taking a nap as soon as you got on the plane. When you got there, you checked in with the front desk and saw that your flight would take off at 5:30am. So, you took Peter to the little coffee stand in the airport to get him some energy and food. He got a mocha iced coffee with a blueberry scone and you got a caramel macchiato and a breakfast bagel. You sat down near where your flight would be boarding and ate your food. You were so excited to eat because your favorite breakfast item was just a good bacon, egg, and cheese bagel. You bit into it and sighed out in a state of peace.

You had downloaded a few episodes of your favorite shows on your laptop so you and Peter could watch them together. You had downloaded some from The Office, Brooklyn 99, Parks and Rec, and The Good Place. You pulled out your laptop and headphones and gave one earbud to Peter so he could watch too. You decided to watch the episode of The Office where Michael hosts the Fun Run for Rabies.

About an hour later they started to board for your flight and packed everything up and walked over to the flight attendant.

“Right this way,” she said. She led you past the economy class and into first class and you started to get suspicious. There was no way you could afford this. Sure, you had some money put into savings, but it wasn’t much. She led you into one of cabins and you put your purse down.

“Uh ma’am?” You called out.

“Yes?”

“Um there must be some mistake, I mean… we’re economy people. Like, we’re broke, there’s no way that we’re in first class.”

“Are you sure? You two are Y/N Y/L/N and Peter Parker, right?” She asked confused.

“Tony, I swear,” Peter sighed.

“What?”

“I told Mr. Stark to not upgrade us because we were fine, but I guess he didn’t listen.”

“Oh.”

The flight attendant walked away and you fell on the bed. The cabin had a little TV on the opposite wall and the bed facing it. Night tables were on both sides of the bed with little lamps that made it kind of cozy. You walked around the small room looking at the different little pictures of beaches from different countries. There were a set of silk pajamas on your nightstand and you held them up to Peter.

“These are nicer than my actual clothes!” Peter just laughed at how excited you were and pulled you down on the bed. He rubbed your thighs and started to kiss your neck and sucked lightly and slowly worked his way up to your ear and nibbled on it.

“As much as I would love to continue this, I am not having sex on a plane,” you laughed.

He laid down on the bed with you, “Well what do you wanna do then?”

“Tell me about everyone that’s going to be there. I want to be prepared to meet them when we get there.”

“Okay for starters, there’s Wanda and Vision, Wanda has like these mind-reading powers, so be careful about what you’re thinking around her. There have been plenty of times where I’ve thought about you in an adult way that’s caused her to not to be near me sometimes. But she’s awesome. She’s kind of like my second aunt when May’s not around; we’re really close.”

“Good to know. It’s also a good thing she’s not here right now because all I can think about is you in that shirt,” you wink at him.

He laughs and kisses your nose, “Vision is also pretty cool. You’ve seen Vision in like pictures and everything so you know he can shift between robot and human form, so that’s cool. Um, he’s just really chill and laid back. There’s also Sam and Bucky.”

“Oh yeah you’ve told me about them. Do they still tease you a lot?”

“Not much anymore, but I’m sure they will when they see us together,” he sighed. Yesterday when he went to the Compound for his camera, they had mentioned that Peter wouldn’t be getting much packing done if he knew what they meant. Peter did know what they meant and just rolled his eyes at them.

“Sam’s pretty cool when he’s not teasing me, and then he’s kind of a jerk, but overall he’s cool; you’ll probably get along more with him than anyone. He’s got a good sense of humor so,” he trailed off.

“Oh okay. Now what about Bucky?”

“Bucky still doesn’t really like me, all because of what happened in Berlin.”

“Sounds like he’s petty.”

“Yeah he kind of is,” he laughed.

He goes through telling you about all the Avengers and what they’re like. They all sounded pretty chill and fun to hang around.

“By the way, Ned is going to be there.”

“What? Really?” You neatly shouted because you haven’t seen him since about a month before college classes started. He had gone all the way to MIT for college, and the last time you saw him, was when you and Peter had helped him move into his dorm.

“Why is he going?”

“He’s like our ‘Guy in the Chair’ for the team. Tells us where to go on missions, and helps out with the team, so I guess Wanda and Vision wanted him there.”

“At least there will be someone I know and close with,” you laugh at Peter’s fake hurt expression.

“You’ll have me, baby.”

“Yeah, but you’ll probably be talking to everyone and doing wedding stuff and I’ll be just hanging out. But now I have Ned! Now, tell me about Mr. Tony Stark. I know he’s kind of like your father-figure as you put it sometimes. Do you think he’ll like me, or will he go all Papa Bear on me and tell me that I’m not good enough?” You joked.

“He should be cool with you. Mr. Stark’s a pretty easy-going guy so I don’t think there will be a problem. Unless you try to crash the wedding,” he smiled.

“Yeah I’m totally gonna crash it and just get shit-faced at the wedding.” It was now close to seven o’clock in the morning and you and Peter were wide awake and couldn’t go back to sleep and still had another thirteen hours to go, so you just pulled your laptop back out and put on one of your shows and cuddled with Peter.

He held your waist against his and laid his head on top of yours. Your arms were wrapped around his torso and head on his chest, watching TV. You stayed like this for a couple of hours. You eventually got bored and started playing a game on your phone.

“Whatcha playing?” He asked.

“Candy Crush.”

He laughed at your game choice. “You’re such a grandma.”

“What? Just because I like candy crush that makes me grandma?’

“Yep.”

You lightly slap his chest as a response and watched his smile turn wide into a laugh. God those eye crinkles, I swear, you thought. It was kind of true though, everyone in your family and in high school called you the grandma friend of the group because you picked crocheting and baking of all hobbies, just like a grandma. And apparently Candy Crush was now considered a grandma game.

“Okay, I’d like to see you beat an ultra-hard level where you only have twenty moves to save 10 gummy bears,” you challenged him.

“Is that seriously a level on there?”

“Yes, and I beat it on the first try. Why, you scared?”

“No, had me your phone.”

You gladly give it to him and throughout the level you have to hold in your laughs because seeing his face scrunch up in frustration may have been the best thing ever.

“Shit!” He exclaimed

“What, did you lose?”

“No,” he lied. You held out your hand for your phone and saw that he lost on the level.

“Ha! Loser,” you poked his chest as you teased him. “It’s a shame you lost though, because losers don’t get prizes.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s my prize?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

You shrugged. “Guess you got to win if you want to find out.”

This time he held out his hand for your phone. “Just know, you got four more chances to win before you run out of lives.” Peter tried so hard at the game and gently slammed your phone in frustration and you giggled. Let’s just say that Peter didn’t get his prize. The rest of the flight consisted of watching TV and eating the surprisingly amazing airline snacks. When the nighttime came, the flight attendants turned all the lights off, kind of like a silent go to sleep call for all the passengers. You and Peter snuggled up against each other and waited for the rest of the flight to be over.

Tag-List: @randomstufflol29 @spideyspeaches @binnotjin @lolooo22 @multi-universe21 @ladykxxx08

A/N: We got an Avengers flashback! Yay! I really wanted to incorporate the Wakandan bunch because a) Black Panther is my favorite movie, and b) They are all just amazing and I love the way that Shuri and Okoye tease T’Challa all the time and wanted to put that in this. The whole Candy Crush scene had actually happened to me before and I thought it would be nice to add a piece of me in the story, and Candy Crush is honestly underrated if you ask me lol. I hope you all really like this chapter, because the next one is going to be awesome! Thank you all for reading!

#peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker angst #peter parker smut #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot #peter parker x y/n #peter parker series

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theyreonlynoodlesmike · 4 years

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It’s Just a Movie: Part 6 (Poly!Lost Boys x Fem!Reader)

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Warnings: cursing

Word Count: 1890

You had to think for a moment about what you had just said when David asked. You went over your words, realizing what you had just told them. What you had just admitted. You knew what they were. You knew that they were vampires. But you were also fairly sure that it wouldn't make a difference. They had already planned on eating you that night, and, if anything, you had just sealed your fate. So, you didn't hold back.

"I said that you're vampires, David." You looked straight at him, clearly challenging him. Even with the tears in your eyes, you knew that you had managed to give him a cold look. You could hear the venom in your own voice, and you gaze didn't waver when he stared back. Why should it? They were going to kill you anyways. Being afraid now wasn't going to change anything. "You, Marko, Paul, Dwayne," You paused for a moment, before you decided to really throw all caution to the wind. "Max." You said the name, and you watched as something, something too quick to place, flickered across Davids face. Some of the other boys were a bit more obvious. Pauls breath had hitched at the mention of their sires name, and Marko's grin had fallen from his face completely. Instead, he hid his mouth behind his hand and seemed to be half-way towards chewing his thumb off. Dwayne frowned, and his gaze was so intense. But it wasn't a glare. The boys had been laughing before, but they weren't laughing now. Neither were you. Your eyes never left Davids, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head. He stood, and he was in front of you in a second. You couldn't help how you flinched back, taking the smallest of steps backwards to steady yourself. David grabbed you by the shoulders, but he didn't laugh. He didn't smile. Instead, he asked,

"How do you know all of this?" And it felt strange. To be a step ahead of David. To know something that David didn't know. He always seemed so in control, and, perhaps, that's the only reason you were still alive. In a moment, you realized this was the only way to stay alive. You were going to have to stay ahead of him and play your cards right. As bitter as you felt towards him and the others at that moment, you still had a chance. And you weren't going to throw it away. You stared at him, and said,

"Give me my phone and I'll show you."

You made a decision that you knew you wouldn't have made if they hadn't been such assholes before. You had bought and downloaded the movie for a car trip a few months before, and you set your phone up on the table across from the couch. The five of you squeezed onto the couch, the little screen less than three feet away as the opening sequence started. You sat at the far end of the couch, with Paul next to you, Dwayne in the middle, Marko besides him, and David on the other far end. You didn't know why, but you had a feeling that David didn't want to be near you at the moment. You knew too much. More than he could control. And he wouldn't know just how much you knew unless he did what you wanted. In other words, David was stuck not being the one in charge of the situation. Marko, however, seemed to be the most skeptical of the bunch. He was still calling bullshit on the whole thing, and it seemed he would be thinking that way until he saw the movie with his own eyes. He made that fairly clear by saying,

"This is all a bunch of bullshit- I'm fucking starving." He said, and you tried not to think about just what he planned on eating. Paul, without prompting, passed him a half-eaten bag of chips, and you looked over to see him grumpily snacking. Dwayne seemed completely neutral, and hadn't spoken a word since you'd revealed what you knew. He seemed to be waiting to see how things went, and you didn't fault him for that. However, Paul seemed to be the easiest to convince. Or, perhaps, he simply didn't care and was just excited to have you sit next to him. He did still think that you were hot. You weren't surprised when he had his arm around the couch behind you before the title had even shown up and you quickly told him,

"Watch the movie." When you saw him looking at you. And then the boys watched as the carousel scene started.

The camera panned up, and the boys stilled before they even saw who it was. First, his boots, then the tail end of his jacket and then- David. There he was clear as day. There was no denying it. The boys had probably expected a different beginning to the movie, to meet the main characters and their assumed victims before they saw themselves. But each of the boys watched as they appeared on the screen. David, Dwayne, Paul, and then, finally, Marko. You couldn't help but be smug as you looked at all their surprised faces.

"Holy shit." Paul said, and you couldn't help but smile. Finally, now you were getting somewhere. "I'm fucking hot." He continued, and you rolled your eyes. Of course, that would be the first thing he'd think. But, he did admit that it was him. The other boys shushed him, with Dwayne telling him to,

"Shut up." But you were too busy thinking about how you had succeeded. This had to convince them. There was no other way to go about it. They couldn't just deny what they were seeing with their very own eyes. You grinned, leaning past him to look at the other boys.

"I'm sorry, who's crazy?" You asked, and looked at Marko specifically. While you hadn't wanted to admit it at first, his comment had cut the deepest. Marko rolled his eyes. He shooed you off, but it didn't stop the feeling of triumph you felt. Dwayne and David were too busy staring at the screen, watching the scene on the carousel unfold. They watched as the surf-nazi's attempted to fight them and how the security guard broke it up. You looked over at David, seeing how he squinted his eyes. When the next scene appeared, David wore a grin as they watched the security guard be ripped up into the air. Along with his car door.

When the Emersons appeared, the boys all let out a collective groan. Apparently, none of them cared about them, and they just wanted to see their scenes. You took this as a good time to talk, and you moved in your seat so you'd be partially facing the boys.

"Convinced?" You asked them, and you watched as all of the boys tore their eyes from the screen. They were quiet for a moment, and they even paused to look at one another. Even though you were positive they couldn't be anything else, you still felt a bit nervous. Finally, after a moment, David said,

"Maybe you're not crazy." And you felt a wave of relief wash through you. Honestly, you couldn't have expected a better response from the boy. You knew not to expect an apology, at least a real one, and at least they were admitting that they had been wrong. It made you completely relax, and a large grin dawned your face. It was one of the first real smiles you had that night. Even if you'd been more relaxed at certain points of the night, you'd always had nerves at the edge of your subconscious. Always had to monitor how you acted, how you talked. Make sure that you didn't say anything that would let it slip that you weren't from this time, or this dimension. But now? You let yourself slump completely back into the couch, and let out a long, heavy sigh. You had succeeded. No ifs, ands, or buts. You went back to watching the movie, and you missed how the boys seemed to notice your sudden change.

Paul had gotten up to grab some more snacks, and everyone except David was chewing on something that wasn't a cigarette by the time the sax man came onto the screen. You couldn't help yourself. You had seen the movie and listened to the soundtrack so many times that you knew all the words, and you had to at least hum it to yourself. That lasted for about five seconds before you were singing along with him. Marko, already having decided that he didn't care very much for Michael, threw some cheesy popcorn at your phone when he blatantly stared at Star.

"Jesus, man. Creep alert." But Dwayne was quick to take the bag from him and pass it to you instead. If only for the sake of your phone. Paul dug his hand into the bag, and, around a mouthful of popcorn, he said,

"Yeah, and who is that chick anyways?" He asked, and you gave a small laugh. Mimicking her voice and tossing your hair over your shoulder you said,

"That's Star. She's the main love interest." And Paul gave a small laugh while Marko smiled. To your surprise, even Dwayne gave you a look and a small quirk of his lips. While you had been petty before, you were quickly starting to go back to- well, normal wasn't the right word. But, it was getting easier to joke with them again and to be a little less angry at them. The only one who seemed not in a joking mood was David, who was keeping his comments, surprisingly, to himself. Until, Max came onto the screen. They all let out a collective groan at the sight of their sire, and you snickered at their reaction. Though, the boys' moods quickly turned around when they saw themselves again. They watched the movie, spending most of the time making comments here or there. They decidedly didn't like the Frogs, but none of them considered them that much of a threat. You refused to tell them anything when prompted, and you almost regretted having agreed to show them the movie. Regret began to eat you up inside, and it was the main thing clouding your thoughts until Marko let out a loud,

"Ha! Star's with David!" And he leaned his head back to let out a loud cackle. Paul laughed along, and David even let a smile dawn his face when he watched how disappointed Michael became. Especially when Sam had little sympathy for his brother. Paul and Marko were quick to begin teasing the platinum blonde, and Paul even leaned over to make kissy faces at him. Completely missing the sight of the little kid, which they didn’t notice until Dwayne asked. You noticed how they seemed to enjoy the killing scene of the two surf-nazi's a little too much, and you tried not to let it make you uncomfortable when one of the boys besides you stomachs growled. It didn't take you long to guess what they really needed to eat, but none of them had made a move to eat you yet.

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys david #david the lost boys #the lost boys marko #marko the lost boys #the lost boys paul #paul the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #the lost boys dwayne #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys imagines

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hanoella · 3 years

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Affettuoso- With Feeling (Part 9)

Pairing: Bucky x Pianist!Reader

Set after the events of TFATWS: In an effort to start over and make a home in Louisiana, Bucky meets a friend of Sam’s who ends up being his landlord. With only a driveway to separate them, he finds that he’s not the only one looking for a fresh start.

Series tags/warnings: Slow Burn, Eventual Bucky x Reader, Mentions of Domestic Abuse, Canon Level Violence, PTSD, Mentions of sex, sexual activity

Part 9 Word Count: 8.1k

A/N: Sorry this one took a little while, I was super busy in real life! I went back an forth on it alot and I don’t think I’m going to write full on smut, but definitely there will be mentions and allusions to sexual activity. Thanks for being patient with me for this part!

Once again, thank you for all your support! Every heart and comment motivates me and is just so wonderful.

Taglist!: @vicmc624 @officiallykuute @undiadeestos @tailsoflightning @buckys2thicc @mischief-siriusly-managed

On Christmas day, you and Bucky went over for dinner at Sarah’s. You had gone together in your car, gifts for everyone in tow. Hanging up your coat, you were greeted cheerfully by Sam, Sarah, and the boys. Bucky watched as you knelt down to hug the younger one. The warm glow of the entryway giving your hair an orange glow.

AJ grabbed Bucky’s hand and started dragging him to the living room.

“Uncle Buck, come look at the presents I got this year!”

You gave Bucky an amused smile when he looked at you first. Lifting your eyebrows, you nodded your head slightly. Watching him get tugged along, you chuckled to yourself before heading to the bathroom. You washed your hands before pressing them onto your cheeks to cool them. Letting your hands fall to the sink, your eyes fell upon the pearl earrings that were swinging from your ear, gold filigree glinting in the light. Delicately touching one of the pearls, you thought back to that morning.

You were in the kitchen, cooking up a special breakfast for the day. Normally, you skipped breakfast in favor of sleeping in, but with Bucky being up by 7 AM latest, you were starting to adjust to his natural schedule. It was hard to stay asleep when your personal heater got up and walked away. He had brushed the hair out of your eyes as you stirred, saying that he was going to go for a run and shower. Curse that beautiful fit bastard for waking you up every morning.

Not being able to go back to sleep, you had walked out of your room to find that he had also gotten the fireplace going. Alpine was curled up on the end of the couch closest to the fire. Now, you had a breakfast quiche and bacon going in the oven as you flipped the batch of pancakes on the stove.

“What’s all this?” Bucky said as he walked in through the front door, freshly showered.

“Special morning breakfast, of course.”

He walked over to you and kissed your cheek, crouching down to look through the window of the oven.

“Wow, look at that. What did I do to get so lucky?”

You chuckled as you put the last of the pancakes on the stack. Toweling off your hands, you opened one of the kitchen island drawers and pulled out a small blue box with a silver ribbon. You placed it on the counter in front of him, waiting expectantly.

“I got you something.” You were barely able to contain your excitement. Bucky held the box for a moment before gently tearing the wrapping paper. Quirking his head at the packaging, he looked up at you.

“Coms?”

It took you a second before you registered the lingo.

“Oh, no, they’re wireless earbuds.”

He opened the box and took the case out, flipping it in his hand to look at it in it’s entirety. You grabbed the manual and slid his phone over to you, turning on the bluetooth.

“Can you open the case?” you asked, not looking up from his phone. He did so, seeing the earbuds and a blinking green light. You tapped a few more things on the screen and the green light stopped blinking.

“Go ahead,” you said, nodding your head at him. He put in one earphone, then the other. You opened up Spotify, which you had downloaded on his phone for him to link to your account, and played a song from your ‘classics’ playlist. You could tell exactly when it started because Bucky’s eyes lit up and a huge smile started forming on his face.

“That sound quality is great!” He half shouted. You tried so hard not to laugh at the old man side of him. After listening for a few more seconds, he took one out of his ear and examined it.

“This is a great gift!” he said animatedly, pointing at the earbud in his other hand.

“I’m so glad you like it! I was thinking about the last time I sent you a recording of the concert, when you were on your last mission, and you said you didn’t have headphones.”

“That’s so thoughtful, thank you. But nothing will ever beat listening to you in person.”

The smile that he gave you as he said that made your face flush.

“I also have something for you,” he continued, fishing out a small box with a shiny gold bow from the pocket of his sweatpants. He held out the small maroon leather jewelry box for you to take. Looking at him curiously, you opened the box to see a set of dangling pearl earrings. The post of the earrings were reminiscent of French crest, the gold filigree encasing three tiny pearls. Hanging from each crest was a raindrop-shaped pearl.

“Oh my goodness, they’re beautiful, Buck.” You said as you laid out the earrings on your hand.

“Go try them on.”

He followed you to the bathroom where you put the earrings on and turned your head to admire them.

“These are beautiful.” You said as you turned to face him, linking your hands around his neck. “Thank you.”

“You look beautiful, and you’re welcome.” He smiled down at you, pulling you to his chest and resting his chin atop your head. “Anything for my best girl.”

Taking a deep breath, you smoothed out your sweater and walked back out to the living room where Bucky was letting AJ talk about all the different features of the toy dump truck he had gotten. You sat down next to Bucky and gave him a nervous smile. He smiled back and put a hand on your upper back, though it was quickly withdrawn when Sarah and Sam came in with drinks. You stood as you accepted one, looking at Bucky expectantly. Nodding slightly, he got up as well.

“Uhm, I have a small announcement to make.” You started nervously, your unoccupied hand tucking your hair behind your ear. The boys both stopped playing at your serious tone. Sarah tilted her head in confusion but Sam had a small smirk that was starting to grow.

“Bucky and I have started seeing each other.”

Sam’s smirk turned into a full fledged grin as he gave Bucky a hug.

“Congrats you guys. That’s amazing. I knew you two were great together.” He said as he moved to give you a hug as well. Sarah followed behind him, giving you an excited smile.

“What does that mean?” AJ asked, Cass answering him.

“It means that her and Uncle Buck are boyfriend and girlfriend, AJ.”

You laughed at the older one’s serious explanation.

“So does that mean they’re getting married and we should call her Auntie or Titi?” AJ continued.

You turned beet red, fanning your face as Bucky blinked, opening his mouth but not emitting any sound. Sam was laughing hysterically while Sarah tried to keep it together as she explained it to AJ.

“It means that they’re dating, so they like each other. No one’s getting married, at least not yet.” She said, turning back towards you and winking. You turned even redder, walking towards the kitchen while Bucky just grinned sheepishly as he scratched the back of his neck.

“I’m so ready for dinner. Is anyone else hungry?” You asked as you walked away.

Sam, now calmed down, smiled genuinely at Bucky, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m happy for you, bud. Are you happy?”

Bucky nodded, smile creeping onto his face.

“Very happy.”

“Good. You deserve it.”

---

That night, you settled into bed next to Bucky, propping your head up on your hand as you laid on your side facing him.

“How do you feel now that we’ve told everybody?” You asked, amused smile on your face.

“I feel great. Sam was so happy for us, and the boys were so funny about it.” Bucky answered, turning to mirror your position.

“Weren’t they? I felt like I was going to die of embarrassment when AJ asked if we were getting married.”

He laughed and you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his waist, your ear pressing against his chest as you listened to his heart beat. He brought his right arm up, rubbing your upper back soothingly. Humming in content, you nuzzled your face into your chest, bidding him goodnight.

“Goodnight, doll.” Bucky answered back, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Breaths slowly syncing, you drifted off to sleep together.

---

On New Year’s Day, you and Bucky were in the middle of making lunch. Breakfast had been slept through since you both had stayed up so late. Finally, you had triumphed over the man who always woke at 6AM. Alpine walked figure eights around your legs as you went around the kitchen. The last night had been spent in each other’s company, complete with champagne and a kiss to reign in the new year. You felt a flush come over your face as you remembered how his rough palm had slid up your leg and rested on your upper thigh. You had worn a sleek silky gold dress that showed a little more skin than you normally did. It was New Year’s Eve, you always dressed up. Bucky had offered to go change to match you, but you insisted he looked just as handsome in his dark-wash jeans and red Henley. You daydreamed about what might’ve happened had Alpine not jumped onto Bucky’s lap.

Your risqué thoughts were interrupted by the kettle whistling on the stove. Moving it off of the burner, you looked over at Bucky, who was looking incredibly domestic as he searched the fridge with his back to you. It has been a long time since you’ve felt anything akin to domestic bliss, yet it was hard to imagine anything else in its stead. Sitting on the barstool across the counter from him, you crossed you arms and leaned forward to catch his attention.

“Do you have any big plans for the New Year?”

Your question caught him off guard. He tilted his head to think, wiping his hands off on the dish towel hanging on the oven handle.

“Hm. I guess I hadn’t thought of it.” He leaned forward onto the counter, bearing weight against his forearms. “How about you?”

“I definitely want to spruce up the yard this upcoming Spring. You know, plant some flowers, make an outdoor seating area, maybe a pond?” Bucky nodded as you listed the various plans. You continued, voice growing softer. “I also want to finish physical therapy, to make this place into a home, to feel good about myself… Just really start getting my life on track. I’ve wasted so much of it already. Sometimes, I feel like I’m working so hard to swim to shore, but really I’ve just been treading water- moving nowhere. I want to be better, for me and for you.”

You looked down to the side wistfully, rubbing your arms as if to comfort yourself. Bucky reached out to put his hand over yours. He opened his mouth to say something, hesitating a moment to get his words straight.

“It’s frustrating when you don’t think you’re making progress. Everything you’ve been through feels like… yesterday and a lifetime ago, all at the same time. But progress doesn’t always look like what you think it looks like. Don’t sell yourself short. I think you’ve been doing a great job.”

He brought your hand up to his lips and pressed soft kisses against your knuckles. A shy smile came over your face as he pressed more kisses to your palm.

“Sam rubbing off on you, huh?” That earned you a quiet chuckle. “That does make me feel better… Thanks, Buck.”

“Of course. It’s the least I can do for you helping me with my one resolution for the new year.”

Your eyebrows lifted in curiosity. “Which is?”

“Spending more time with you.”

Your smile grew bigger and bigger before you leaned across the counter to kiss him. That was a goal you would happily help him reach.

---

Sam needed to go to Washington D.C. shortly after the new year started. He was needed for a fundraising event for a new children’s hospital. Being the new Captain America, he was in a position to really help out if he made an appearance, so he signed up for the 5k race and the gala that was taking place the next weekend. How much better would it be though, if he had his right-hand man beside him? So here he was, in your living room, sitting across from Bucky as he gave his best pitch.

“C’mon, Buck. It won’t be so bad. You can outrun them, so you can avoid talking to people. Then later, you just have to take one picture with me in a tux, eat all the fancy food you want, and then escape back to the hotel!”

“I told you, I’m not really one for those big events.” Bucky responded as you made your way back to the living room with several mugs of coffee.

“Oooh, what big events?” You asked, handing them their respective cups.

“I was just telling Bucky that he should come to the charity event in DC for the new St. Jude facility.”

“Oh, that sounds awesome! You have to go, Buck.” You chimed in excitedly, earning Sam a dirty look from Bucky.

Bucky slouched backwards into his seat. He really didn’t want to be apart from you, much less to be with a pack of sweaty people. It was hard enough to leave when it was absolutely necessary for Sam to have back-up. Now he was asking if he would do it recreationally? Not a chance.

“Could he bring a plus one? My holiday vacation extends through that weekend. I just need to be at rehearsal that Monday evening. Is that possible?” You faced Sam expectantly.

“We can definitely make that happen. The 5k is Saturday morning, and the gala is that night. You’ll have all of Sunday to travel back.”

It was Bucky’s turn to be looked at expectantly. Both you and Sam were staring at him with puppy eyes.

“Well, if you’re going, then it won’t be so bad.” He said, putting his arm around your shoulder. You and Sam cheered in victory, Bucky sneaking a glance at you as you celebrated. He couldn’t help but grin at the sight of you clasping your hands together out of excitement. Of course, he’d go if you did. Being without you was pretty much the only real reason he had to not go. After all, he has a New Year’s resolution to fulfill.

---

You checked into the hotel on Friday evening, Bucky easily carrying both his and your luggage. You passed by large glass chandeliers, luxurious seating areas, and a huge ballroom that would host the gala tomorrow night. It was the first time in a long time that you had attended any high visibility events like this, but theoretically, you were fine. The odds of running into any unwanted company were slim to none, especially because you weren’t even sure if said company was still in D.C. Besides, you couldn’t hide away forever.

Maybe you were just on edge because this was your first trip away together. While you did spend most nights together at the house, you always had the safety net of having separate places to retreat. After being confined for so long, it was difficult for you to do anything without having a way out, in case things got messy. It was less about how you felt with Bucky, and more about how you felt with yourself. You did feel better, however, whenever you met his gaze and he gave you that soft smile. So, you looked up at him as you waited side-by-side at the elevator, and sure enough, he gave you what you were looking for. Subconsciously, you let out a deep breath, relaxing your shoulders some.

“You alright?” He asked, noticing your uneasiness.

“Yeah, I’m just tired from the flight.” You smiled back at him. Before Bucky could inquire further, Sam jogged up to where you were waiting.

“Sorry about that, I was figuring out the route for tomorrow.” He said just as the elevator dinged.

“No problem! You guys have fun with that, I’ll be bundled up by the finish line.” You laughed as you stepped into the elevator, pushing the 7th floor button.

“You’re not running?” Bucky questioned, raising one eyebrow out of curiosity.

“I’d much rather not. There’s a reason why I’m a musician and not an Olympic athlete. I’ll just be cheering you on from the sides.”

You nudged Bucky’s arm with yours as the elevator doors closed. Sam glanced behind him as you two grinned at each other in your own little world. A small smile formed on his face as he shifted his eyes back forward. He couldn’t remember the last time that either of you looked this happy. It had been a long time coming, but so worth it.

The elevator dinged as it opened to your floor. Above the floral arrangement that was sitting on top of a polished wooden console table, was a sign that indicated which room numbers were to the left and the right of the hall.

“We’re room 711.” Bucky read off of the keycard. That meant you were going to the left.

“I’m in room 730 so I’m going this way. I’ll see you guys bright and early?” Sam asked, walking backwards towards his room as he pointed to you.

“Yup!” you replied.

“Yeah, see you then.” Bucky said as you both turned to walk towards your room.

Inserting the keycard, you opened the door to your suite and he followed behind, dropping the bags next to the bed. The room was definitely on the larger side, with the whole wall facing the city being glass. You walked over and pushed the floor length curtains to the side. Bucky pulled off his jacket and hung it on the coat rack before walking over to you.

“The view is amazing.” You admired, still in your coat and clasping your leather-gloved hands together. The different lights of the city gleamed like precious gemstones in the dark winter night. When you could finally tear your gaze from the window, you grabbed Bucky’s arm and looked up at him.

“What?” He questioned with a smile on his face.

“Nothing. It’s just exciting traveling with you.”

You tugged on his arm lightly to get him to lean down and kiss you. He gave you a teasing look but gave in regardless. Afterwards, you slipped off your gloves and started to shrug off your coat. Bucky quickly moved so that he was behind you and took hold of it so that he could hang it up for you. It’s little things like that, that show how soft and polite he was on the inside despite the gruff exterior he put on the outside for everyone else. He was always so gentle too. Between the door-openings, the coat takings, and the soft kisses he liked to press onto your hand, it could almost make you cry. Feeling the heat rise in your face from your overwhelming emotions, you cleared your throat and took a deep breath.

“Buck, I’m going to take a shower, do you need anything?” He hung your coat up and came back over to you, putting his hands on your waist.

“I’m okay. Enjoy your shower.” He said, pressing a kiss to your cheek before picking the remote off of the table and turning the television on. Upon entering the bathroom, you shut the door with a soft click. You started running the water and glanced at your complexion before stripping down and stepping into the steaming water. It felt wonderful to wash the airport germs off. You opened the packaging of the complimentary soaps and shampoos, relaxing at the smells of lavender and green tea.

The shower did wonders calming you down. Giving yourself a few more seconds under the hot water, you closed your eyes to appreciate how much nicer it was to stay at a hotel for recreation instead of escape. You cut off the water and rung your hair out, stepping onto the cushiony bath mat. It was then that you realized you hadn’t brought any clothes in with you. You cursed in your head as you wrapped on of the towels around you. You could ask him to bring the suitcase or pick out the clothes but you bit your lip as you made your mind up. Securing the towel around you, you cracked the door to the bathroom open. Now or never.

“Bucky, I just forgot to grab clothes, sorry.”

Bucky had been reclined back on the bed, one arm propping his head up so that he could see the TV. At the sound of your voice, he turned his head towards the bathroom and saw your reflection on the mirror across from it. His eyes followed your reflection until you yourself actually came into view. He swallowed hard as you walked past to the far side of the bed. Your eyes stayed trained on the floor, but the blush across your cheeks gave you away. You crouched over your suitcase to fish out some clothes, using a burst of courage to look up at Bucky. He had turned his head towards you, eyes shifting downwards to watch the droplets of water travel down from your wet hair onto your collarbone, then follow the curve towards the valley of your chest before it disappeared into the towel. Bucky coughed and then quickly shifted his eyes forward, apologizing as the red crept up his neck to his ears.

“Sorry…”

“Don't be.” You said quickly to put him at ease. Gathering the clothes in your arms, you got up to go back to the bathroom when he gripped your forearm. Your head snapped towards him and you stared at each other, the air seemingly growing thick in the room. Bucky opened his mouth to say something, glancing down your body once more before letting go.

“Sorry, I’ll let you get dressed.” He said sheepishly, bringing a hand the back of his neck as he looked downwards.

“Do you want to…?”

He looked up as you let the sentence dangle in the air. He wanted to say yes, but he couldn’t find the voice to say it. The notion of being together physically was still foreign to him and he was… insecure about his body. How attractive could it be to have all that scarring right at your eye line? And it wasn’t like he didn’t want to be with you that way, it was just daunting to leave himself completely vulnerable to someone when he had never been seen in that light before. The anxiety started to close in on him. Noticing his discomfort, you bent over slightly to meet his eye.

“Hey, there’s no pressure. Let’s give it some more time, Buck. There’s no rush.” You reassured him as you cupped his cheek with one hand, holding the towel to your chest with the other.

“I know. I’m sorry. I really want to. I’m just… nervous.”

“Hey, that’s okay. That’s totally fine. Here, let me get changed and then we can cuddle. Besides, we have an early morning tomorrow.”

Bucky agreed with you, giving you a weak smile. You smiled back at him and walked to the bathroom, getting dressed in your sleep shorts and t-shirt. After drying your hair, you walked back out to find the TV off and Bucky dressed in his usual shirt and boxers. He was half under the covers, avoiding your eye as he scrolled on his phone. Sliding into bed next to him, you gently took his phone from his grasp and leaned over to set it on his nightstand. Then you leaned over his face, cupping his cheek again.

“Are you alright?” you asked.

“Yeah. I am. Sorry about all that.”

“Don’t be sorry. I should’ve just asked you to bring my bag.”

“There was definitely nothing wrong with that. You’re just so attractive, it’s hard for me to not react.”

Your cheeks grew flushed as you smiled at him.

“I mean it.” Bucky said, now sitting up, causing you to lean back. He slowly leaned towards you until you were switched positions- you on your back and him leaning overtop of you. Your breath got caught in your throat as he leaned down to kiss you. The kisses were hungry, passionate, slowly growing deeper. Then, as you moved your arm to put around his neck, it brushed the length that was straining against his boxers. He let out a small groan into your mouth and you both opened your eyes in surprise, him pulling away. His words were breathy as he spoke first.

“I’m having a trouble… keeping it down. I’m sorry to make you uncomfortable.”

You sat up. “Bucky, are you kidding? We’re kissing. In bed. I’m kind of surprised I haven’t felt you get hard before.”

He blinked, the flush growing even warmer on his face. You were still slightly catching your breath as your expression softened. You gently put your hand over his, scooting closer to him. Your tone was gentler this time.

“Do you want help with it?” You nodded your head downwards. “I can touch it for you.”

Okay, Bucky didn’t think he could get any redder but he definitely just did.

“I’m… a little embarrassed.” He trailed off. You could definitely understand him being shy. You had been like that when you were still new to physically showing love. Thinking back, you remembered one thing that helped.

“How about I turn off the lights? Do you think it’d be okay then?”

There was a long pause before he answered quietly.

“Yeah.”

You gave him a reassuring smile before leaning over to your nightstand and turning off your light. Then you laid to face him as he turned his off. Now completely dark, you reached out until you felt his chest, coming closer until you were in his arms. Your hands slid upwards to cup his face, letting you know where to lean in to kiss him. You kissed for quite some time, sucking on his lower lip as your hands eventually slid to his chest. When he seemed to relax into that, you brought your hand lower until it brushed over the front of his boxers. It caused him to tense again, so you asked once more.

“Can I?”

You felt his chest rise and fall deeply before he whispered.

“Yeah.”

---

Bucky felt the cold morning air come into his lungs as he took a controlled breath in. His grey hoodie was almost too warm to run in, even though it was the heart of winter. At the beginning of the 5k, he had kept the same pace with Sam. He had no interest in being the first to the finish line. It wouldn’t be fair to everyone else. It had been going swimmingly until Sam started poking his nose where it didn’t belong.

Sam had noticed that something was different at breakfast. While they ate a light meal in preparation for the race, you had sipped on coffee as you talked animatedly about the different charities you had associated yourself with. Sam had been listening intently when he noticed how Bucky’s eyes kept shifting back and forth between the bagel on his plate and you. Sitting next to him, you hadn’t noticed. Being the astute observer that he was, Sam had watched as Bucky nervously chuckled when you turned to him for a response. You had made eye contact with Bucky and your complexions had grown flushed. To ease the awkward nervousness, you had quickly turned to Sam. He had squinted his eyes momentarily as he tried to figure out why Bucky was acting so strange, though he shoved the thoughts to the back of his mind for later.

Later turned out to be a couple of hours after breakfast, in the first half of the race. You could tell Bucky was antsy from the crowd, so you settled on just squeezing his hands encouragingly before wishing him luck. Then, they were off. After outrunning the crowd and cameras, Sam and Bucky were now in a much more private setting- not quite jogging close enough to anybody else to make conversation.

“So,” Sam started, taking advantage of the seclusion, “How’re things going with her?”

“Good.” Bucky answered simply, sensing that there may be more follow up questions.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. She’s great. We’re doing great.”

Sam slowed his pace slightly so he could catch his breath. “Just wanted to make sure. You seemed a little off at breakfast. Did something happen?”

Bucky swallowed and couldn’t hide the flush of red creeping up his neck as he remembered the previous night. It hadn’t taken him long to finish. Nobody had ever touched him intimately, and even if they had, it had been a long time since. You were more than happy with the extent of the physicality last night, all too satisfied to let him ride out his high, spilling into your hand with his face buried into the crook of your neck. But Bucky couldn’t stop the overthinking. The hesitancy, along with the telltale signs of embarrassment, gave Sam an inkling what it might be about.

“Oh, I take it something did happen.”

Bucky was not at all thrilled about Sam’s avid interest in the subject.

“Like I said, things are going well. But sometimes I get so wrapped up in my head about stuff.” Bucky said, moving past that subject. “It’s going a lot faster than I thought it was going to. Things were a lot… slower in the 40’s. And now that Steve’s gone, she’s one of the few people I have to lose, except she’s not a super soldier and she doesn’t have a powered-up suit to protect her.”

They jogged in silence for a moment.

“Honestly, it’s terrifying. Sometimes, I feel like I should’ve never started this because if something happened, I don’t know what I’d do.”

“You know, if she was here right now, she’d probably smack you upside your head.”

Bucky gave Sam a look that could’ve withered a plant, but Sam just chuckled at him.

“Listen, what you’re feeling is normal, with anything there’s a risk. You’ve literally risked your life, for your entire life. Why?”

“Well, because it was the right thing to do.”

“Right. You always do the right thing because doing the right thing makes you feel good and gives you a sense of fulfillment. She also gives you positive emotions, but you’ve come up with a hundred reasons why not to be with her. Yes, you don’t want anything to happen to her, but you’re also hesitant because you don’t want something to happen to yourself. You’re afraid of getting hurt. We all are, that doesn’t make you weak. But missing out on what is potentially the best thing that ever happened to you, solely because you were afraid, makes you a coward.”

Bucky made another face but it was one more of resignation, regardless of how much disdain for Sam he had at the moment. He was telling the truth. If he stopped the relationship because of the potential outcome, he would be a coward for doing so. Whether he lost you emotionally from it not working out, or physically because of any potential enemies, if he were to stop now, he’d be a coward.

“Think about how much she’s putting on the line. She’s smart, Buck. She knows what she’s getting into and she knows the risk. But being with you is worth more to her than the potential risk. I think you feel the same way about her. If you feel anxious about it, talk to her. I’m sure she’ll reassure you. I will also reassure you if you ask me, but I’m sure you’d much rather talk to her.” Sam chuckled. “Sorry for being harsh, man. But, I think you needed to hear it.”

“I did… Thanks, Sam. You’re a good friend.” Bucky said, looking towards Sam

“Anytime.”

They jogged comfortably at their slower pace, letting a few joggers say hello and pass them. Once they were out of earshot, Sam got his classic mischievous grin and wiggled his eyebrows.

“So, what happened between you two last night? Or is it too Rated-R to say out loud? Just asking, because your skin is, like, glowing. You look refreshed and ready to go.”

Bucky threw his head back and let out a frustrated grunt before picking up the pace and sprinting to put distance between him and Sam.

“Hey. Hey!” Sam yelled as Bucky got farther and farther away, despite his best efforts to catch up to him. Once Sam was just a speck on the trail behind him, he relaxed into a more sustainable pace. He caught his breath and looked back, laughing at the image of a far-away Sam, shaking his fist at Bucky.

As much as he and Sam joked back and forth, he was thankful to have good friends. It’s definitely helped him feel better about missing Steve. Steve was afraid that if anything ever happened to himself, that Bucky would be left in the lurch. What really helped him at the time, was knowing that Sam would be there. So, when he had brought the idea up to Bucky, he mentioned that Sam was a good man, and that he would help Bucky a lot, but if Bucky needed him, then he’d stay. Bucky knew from the bottom of his heart that if he said that he didn’t want Steve to leave, Steve would’ve stayed and not resented him one bit. But Bucky would’ve had to live with that on his conscience for the rest of his life. So, he gave Steve a pat on the back and told him to go, and that he’d be fine with Sam. He deserved to be happy. Bucky, however, did not.

And so, he damned himself to a life of continued torture and solitude. He ignored all of Sam’s texts and calls. He punished himself by going to lunch with the dad of a victim who was plagued by his son’s mysterious death- a son that was made a victim at Bucky’s hands. It took such a shock as a new replacement “Steve” to break the cycle. Then, it was just pure anger. It was anger at the world for doing Steve wrong, anger at the world for doing Sam wrong, anger at John Wyatt for besmirching the mantle that his best friend worked so hard to establish. It was anger at himself for being slow on making amends, anger at himself for still waking up shaken from the nightmares that haunted him. It was anger at himself for telling Steve that he would be just fine if he left.

At the time, it was a bold-faced lie. Though, overtime it did end up being the truth. He helped the real Captain America take back the shield, and in the process, he saved people who had actually thanked him for it, as if it wasn’t what he was longing to do in the first place. He finally finished making his amends, giving peace to a number of families and himself. He even allowed himself to have a little bit of happiness by believing, even if just for a moment, that he belonged in the community that accepted him so easily in Louisiana. And now, he had you too. Beautiful, talented, kind you. You, who had embraced him with unabashed love. You, who wasn’t ashamed of who he was.

Steve would’ve loved you.

Bucky hadn’t noticed the tears until one slipped onto his cheek, accentuating the cold. Somehow, though, this cold served to remind him that he was indeed alive. Despite all odds, he was here. What a fool he was to think that he would have been protecting you by staying distant. Bucky coughed and then sniffed, shaking his head before quickly wiping his cheek. Determined to see you, he ran at a steady pace until he saw you waving and cheering him on by the finish line. You were against the barrier about ten yards from the end of the race, slightly separated from the other crowds of people. Ignoring the finish line, he ran straight to you and gripped you by the shoulders.

“Buck, what’re you-”

He kissed you openly, surprising both you and the racers who gawked as they jogged past the scene to the finish line. You eventually pulled apart and looked at him with an incredulous giddy expression on your face, accented by your fingers gently touching your lips as if you didn’t believe what just happened.

“I love you.”

You blinked several times to process it before bursting into a grin that couldn’t get any bigger. Breathlessly, you responded.

“I love you too.”

---

The gala was a huge success. They announced during the introductions that they had met their fundraising goal, which was greeted by a tremendous amount of applause. They spotlighted Sam, and subsequently you and Bucky, as they thanked Captain America and his right hand man for their support. After you had finished dinner, they whisked them both away for publicity. You felt a little bad as you watched Sam and Bucky get assaulted by camera flashes as every bigwig who donated towards the cause insisted on taking a picture with Captain America. Fortunately, you were watching from the comfort of your own seat, nursing a glass of wine while trying not to stain the glass with your lipstick.

You then turned your head to watch the dance floor where a lot of the party was congregated, dancing in pairs to a waltz. Normally, events like these started off as a classical ball and ended in an atmosphere more like a nightclub after the older sponsors went home. You did love dancing, to either kind of music, but you weren’t sure if Bucky was the dancing type. Still, you wished that you could have at least one dance with him before it got too late. It was then that you heard someone call your name. Not Irina, but your name. You turned your head warily towards the voice.

“Hey! I thought that was you!”

“Oh my god Dev, you startled me!” You said in relief, standing up to give your friend a hug. He hugged you and then sat in Bucky’s unoccupied seat.

“I haven’t seen you in so long! You kind of disappeared off of everyone’s radar.”

You couldn’t miss the glance he took at your shoulder. The dress you were wearing, one of your favorites for the wintertime, had a flowing tulle champagne skirt that had gold floral accents. But from the waist up, it was a velvet red fluttered off-shoulder top with thin supporting straps that perfectly framed the scarring. You hadn’t really been planning on seeing anyone you knew so you hadn’t bothered covering up your shoulder.

“Yeah, I’ve been trying to keep a semi-low profile.”

“Well, whatever you’ve been doing has been working. You worried a lot of us. If it weren’t for Jules letting us know you were still alive, we would’ve called in a missing person’s report.”

You looked down sheepishly, embarrassed but happy that after all this time, your friends still remembered and cared about you. You tucked your hair behind your ear and fidgeted with one of the pearls on the earrings that Bucky had gotten for you.

“Yeah, I’m so excited for her wedding, you know she made me a bridesmaid?”

Unaware of your skillful redirection of the conversation, he replied excitedly.

“I’ll be there too! Super happy for her. Her and Raul have been dating forever. It’s about time they get hitched.”

“Agreed. Speaking of, how’re you doing these days? Any lucky ladies in your life?” You leaned back in your chair and resumed your glass of wine.

“No ladies, but I did just get my big break.” He said with a wide secretive smile.

“Really?” You perked up. He leaned in as if he was going to tell you something confidential so you mirrored the movement. In a low tone, he explained.

“I just got hired to compose the musical score for a Netflix series. I’ve been working on it for months, and now we’re recording in three weeks at a studio in New York!”

“Dev!” you exclaimed loudly, “That is absolutely amazing! I’m so happy for you! You’re going to be the next John Williams, I just know it.”

He gave you a big smile. Across the room, Bucky was looking in your direction, attention caught by your excitement.

“Who’s that?” He asked Sam discreetly between pictures.

“I don’t know. Maybe a fan?”

Bucky’s eyes lingered in your direction until the photographer called his attention.

“You know,” Dev started, “We’re still in the selection process for the piano player since we were torn between two options, but you blow them both out of the water.”

“Wow, that sounds amazing. I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes though.”

“Nonsense. I’m the composer so I get to choose my orchestra! And you’ll love the series. It’s about an orphan in the 1960’s who’s a chess prodigy. She destroys different chess tournaments and battles addiction. She ends up playing the best of the best in Russia by the end of it. It’s called Queen’s Gambit- based on a book with the same name. Who better to have recording for Queen’s Gambit than the Reigning Queen of Russian Classics? You can come see Jules too. The studio’s not far from her place.”

The offer was extremely tempting, but you weren’t sure how ready you were to throw caution to the wind. He must’ve caught onto your hesitation, so he gave another pitch to you.

“I know you’ve been out of the limelight for a long time, but this is your chance to bring your name back into the mix. And the series won’t be released until later this year so no one will know you’re in New York if that’s what you’re worried about. Not until long after you’ve finished recording.”

You bit your lip. You’re resolve was crumbling.

“How long is recording?” You asked tentatively.

“Our target is three studio days, but we booked four just in case- Monday through Thursday. Is that okay?”

“Well… I’m performing right now under a stage name with an orchestra. But the rehearsals have been going really well since we’ve been playing together all season. I could give them a recording of me playing the pieces for that week that they could practice to. Before I get ahead of myself though, can I just ask one thing?”

“You can have whatever you want.” You cracked a smile at that.

“Can you keep it a secret that I’m going to be there? You can use my name in the credits but I don’t really want any media coverage while I’m in New York.”

“Absolutely. Done.”

It was hard not to feel absolutely giddy. If it were someone you didn’t really know, you wouldn’t do it, but you trusted Dev to abide by your wishes.

“Well, I’ll email the orchestra head and if he says yes, then I’m in.”

Dev cheered, causing several heads to turn towards him. You could barely hold your laughter as he quickly apologized to those around him. When you both settled, the lights started to dim slightly, and the music switched from instrumental to lyrical. You and Dev looked out to the dance floor. Still slower paced, but modern, perfect for slow dancing to.

“Care to dance?”

Your head snapped towards Dev who was holding out his hand.

“I think that I might be ahead of you in line, pal.”

Bucky placed a hand on the back of the chair you were sitting in. Happy that he was back, you set one of your hands over his and looked up at him.

“All done with the paparazzi?” You joked with a big smile on your face that reassured Bucky.

“Yeah, finally. Who’s this?” He nodded his head towards the man sitting in his seat.

“This is Dev Addison, a friend of mine from Julliard.”

Bucky extended his hand in greeting, Dev standing up to shake his hand.

“Dev, this is Sergeant Barnes.”

He looked to you and then back to Bucky incredulously.

“Wow, it’s nice to meet you. Thanks for always keeping us safe.”

“I’m happy to it.” He responded as you got up as well.

“Well,” you started, straightening out your skirt. “I think I’ll have to ask for a rain check, Dev. I’ve been waiting all night for them to be done with him.” You said with a grin as you looked up at Bucky, him reciprocating.

An amused smile came upon Dev’s face as he saw the look between you two. You looked happy. After so long, it was good to know that you were at least okay.

“No problem,” he said good-naturedly. “Let me know ASAP when the orchestra head replies!”

“Will do!”

You both waved goodbye and you started walking hand in hand with Bucky to the area where people were dancing. You put one hand in his and the other on his shoulder as he put his other on your waist, tentatively swaying to the music together.

“So, Dev offered me a job. It’s a four day contract to record music that he composed for a television series. It’s going to be at a studio in New York at the end of February.”

“Wow,” Bucky said with raised eyebrows. “That’s exciting. Are you going to take it?”

“I think so.” You said slowly but firmly. “I just have to wait for the orchestra to approve it.”

“That’s great.” Bucky said encouragingly, noticing a different emotion mixed in with your excitement. “What’s wrong?”

“I just haven’t been to New York in a while. It just makes me feel a little nervous about getting back out into the world. I know you know how that feels, on a much bigger scale. But another part of me is excited to get back into big projects like these.”

Bucky nodded his head in agreement. “But I think if you want to, then there’s no harm. It’s only a few days and it’s just for recording. You could stay at a hotel so you could have some space if you don’t want to stay with your friends.”

You looked like you were thinking, so he didn’t say anything else. Instead, you danced together closely as you listened to the lyrics of the song.

And you say that you’re not worth it

You get hung up on your flaws

Well, in my eyes you are perfect

As you are

“John Legend, I think.” You said quietly as rested your cheek against his shoulder. Bucky hummed in response, touching his lips to your forehead.

I will never try to change you

I will always want the same you

Swear on everything I pray to

That I won’t break your heart

Bucky glanced down at the necklace that rested perfectly in the space between your collarbones, the one that you had fixed with the brooch he gave you. The emerald was now fitted in gold plating, set between two delicate pearls. It matched the earrings he had given you perfectly. You could’ve worn or bought plenty of other jewelry, but you continually wear these because they make you happy and they show off to the world that he favored you.

I’ll be there when you get lonely

Keep the secrets that you told me

And your love is all you owe me

And I won’t break your heart

“If I go to New York, will you come with me?” You looked up at him with an endearing look, the dim chandelier leaving a residual glimmer in your eyes.

“Of course, I will.” He said softly, giving you a classic Bucky smile. You laughed as he twirled you once before dipping you. He held you like you weighed nothing, pressing his lips against your cheek as you giggled.

“I love you.” You said, a dreamy look on your face. A huge smile spread over Bucky’s face, and he reciprocated while gazing at you from under hooded eyelids.

“I love you too.”

#bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky imagine #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #soundcloud

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presumenothing · 3 years

Text

C/O The Perihelion, 41 Mihira Ave., N. Tideland

(AO3)

The thing was, you expected a building with a fancy name like The Perihelion to be nicer.

The other thing: it wasn’t really even a terrible place to stay in. You could tell that its construction was sturdy, and some aspects of it were even more advanced than the place I worked in. Whoever who’d built Peri had cared about what they made; they just hadn’t been around for a while.

(For the record, that nickname had been Ratthi-from-Room-203’s fault twice over: first for coming up with it, then using it so insistently until it stuck.)

(Ratthi seemed to have a thing about names. That was the only explanation I could think of for why he’d asked, five weeks after I moved in and two days after I had to rescue them from that disaster at the lab, “Why do you call yourself Security? I know it’s what you do – and don’t get me wrong, you’re really good at it! – but it’s not like I call myself Scientist. That’d just get confusing real quick at the lab, wow.”

I had informed him that his name would have to be Grocery if he forgot one more time it was his turn to stock the pantry this week, since answering because I am Security didn’t seem like it’d help. Even though it was true.)

I’d tested the locks myself before even asking about the rent, and the water and electricity were reliable so far, which was more than could be said for some of the other places I’d stayed in. The other stuff didn’t matter; it wasn’t like I spent that much time in the building anyway.

Though it hardly felt that way, what with the building-wide messaging channels that I’d been added to upon signing the rental contract and hadn’t yet managed to leave. That had also been how the whole thing with Ratthi and the rest had started; most of Peri’s other tenants also worked in the same research group at Preservation Labs, which meant that they tended to use the general channel as an unofficial no-leaders-here group chat.

It didn’t quite bother me, since I mostly backburnered the channels for everything except building maintenance alerts, but it did mean that I’d ended up learning some things about their group (assessment: their leader, a Dr. Mensah, likely had already inferred the existence of such informal discussions from what I saw of her media appearances) and also inevitably noticed the evening when all of them were silent in the chat despite being unusually late to return.

(Which in turn led to the aforementioned rescue, but that was a whole other chain of events.)

–

The one exception to all this was ART.

Whose name was my fault, this time, but only because it didn’t have any readable name set on the channels and I needed something else to use aside from “hey you” and “pain in my neck”.

(Currently ART stood for Asshole Rhetorical Tenant, because it claimed to be in the building – and that seemed likely to be true, since the channels were surprisingly secure to hacking from outside – and yet I’d never seen it even once. Possibly Tapan or Rami might have, since their group had been here the longest, but I absolutely wasn’t about to ask.) (And yes, I know that’s not what rhetorical means. No, I’m not going to look it up.)

ART had messaged me on a private channel with a welcome message when I’d moved in, which was only notable because the rest had sent their greetings in a messy chaos over the general channel, but I hadn’t thought anything of it. It wasn’t like I talked much in the public channels either, except to trade definitely-not-legal links for media downloads and decline invites to watchalong events.

But then ART had just… continued not appearing, even after I’d run into the rest of the tenants at one time or another between the erratic shift hours I was currently assigned to at the company.

Maybe its hours varied in the opposite direction from mine, which was possible but not consistent with the way it was always online regardless of what time I pinged it at.

Though most of our interactions started with it messaging me instead, out of the blue: No need to go retrieve your keys from work, I’ll have the building let you in and Oh, by the way followed by a neatly-formatted list of food allergies I apparently had to shop my way around.

(To be fair, that’d been useful in the “not accidentally poisoning any fellow tenants so soon after moving in” way, but still.

How the hell did you even know I’m at the grocery store, I’d sent back.

Inference, ART replied – whatever that was supposed to mean, I hadn’t been expecting a real answer anyway. Alternatively, I could just send you a catalog of safe products to buy, and spare you the need to check the individual package labels?

The accompanying download seemed a little smug, but I was probably imagining that. Zip files didn’t have the capacity for feelings.)

(At least ART hadn’t held the forgotten-keys incident over me like I’d been half-expecting it would. I didn’t usually mind its sarcasm, since I gave back as good as I got, but I’d been exhausted enough to seriously contemplate going back to break into the deployment centre and grab my keys. And maybe just sleep there until the next day.

I wasn’t sure how I would’ve reacted if ART had sassed me right then, but it definitely wouldn’t have been pretty.)

–

And then one night, late enough to be morning: I don’t mean to alarm, but there’s been a breach.

I would’ve snapped awake at the words alone, even without the priority/emergencies-only message tag that I hadn’t actually seen anyone use until now, but that only sharpened my urgency. What – a break-in?

Not the regular kind, ART replied, which checked out against the footage I was already pulling from the two tiny cameras I’d hidden in the common areas, one in the entryway and one along the corridor on the floor I shared with the Preservation researchers.

(I’d taken the lab incident as a pretext to inform Ratthi of their existence, and he’d probably gone on to tell Pin-Lee and Gurathin, but none of them had subsequently confronted me about it so I had left them in place.

Not that I had any idea how to respond if they had asked, because an inability to sleep without running surveillance in the background seemed like a poor explanation.)

The list ART sent me this time was a preliminary threat assessment, which I sent back with corrections on the weaponry the small group of hostiles were carrying.

Ah. That’s not good, ART observed. Should I report it?

Probability that would just make things worse: high. And of course there was always the option that whatever enforcement it alerted wouldn’t even arrive in time, though I didn’t point that out aloud. (Maybe ART thought that was likely too, which was why it had messaged me instead of – you know, actually reporting it.) I’ll see what I can do.

You’re nowhere near as heavily-armed.

I didn’t bother to acknowledge that, because it was obviously true, and skipped ahead to the vague idea forming at the back of my head. You let me in without keys, that time. Are the locks all you’ve hacked?

No. ART attached an ironic amusement glyph I was pretty sure it’d made up. Would having admin access to the other systems help?

There wasn’t much that wouldn’t help, at this point, but I had to ask. You can grant me that?

And ART said: Of course. I am this building, after all.

Then it dumped everything on me.

Anyone else would’ve had trouble processing an entire building’s worth of inputs and controls, but the company charged exorbitant rates for our use exactly because of the extensive enhancements that made us capable of being Security. A building – even the one I happened to be staying in – was quite manageable in comparison, though ART’s systems ran far deeper and more integrated than anything else I’d interfaced with.

I’d pared the connection down to the controls I needed by the time I was slipping out my room door, just over a minute since ART first pinged me. Can you let everyone know to either evacuate or retreat to a defensible position? Start with Gurathin, I added, and I wasn’t enthusiastic about saying that but he was the only other tenant I knew of who was sufficiently augmented to handle this.

I could feel ART’s pause. Would you mind if I spoofed your identity when contacting the others? They already trust you.

Sure, whatever, I answered, even though I really doubted that statement. Then I backburnered the channel, keeping the lighting controls at hand, and went to kick some Target ass.

–––––

I haven’t even told you what those people were after, ART said, afterwards.

It was back to sending text over the channels instead of speaking aloud, which was both a relief and also suddenly weird. Which was strange in itself, since I’d only heard it talking for all of the thirteen minutes it’d taken me to knock out and restrain the Targets.

(I wondered if the mixed feelings were mutual. ART had sounded as surprised as I felt, when it abruptly dropped into one of my audio augments to alert me to Target approaching from behind – I’d reacted to the warning on reflex, but it had taken another moment before I identified the voice as the same one that issued from the building’s elevator, just more alive than I’d ever heard it.)

Unimportant, I replied. My objective took priority. Which at that point had been to get my impromptu clients (seventeen tenants and one building) out of this unscathed.

I knew that this wasn’t a regular pattern of thought, but I figured a sentient building – or whatever the hell ART was – would be better equipped to understand what being Security meant, even if no one else did.

Regardless. I can make that information available to you, should you want it at a later point.

Duly noted. I already had my suspicions (namely that the Targets’ purpose was directly related to said sentient-building-ness), but it was still a nice gesture.

I continued to stay where I was, leaning against the side of the building – ART’s building. Or maybe it was more correct to just say it was ART. And maybe I’d have to change that anagram. (Yes, wrong word. I know.)

Eventually I’d have to relocate myself back upstairs and properly treat the scrapes I’d gotten in the fight, but Pin-Lee had already taken care of the worst of them, and it was nice just lurking in the shadows for a while. Though that hadn’t stopped certain people (dammit, Ratthi) from tattling on my location to Dr. Mensah.

Who was as calmly terrifying in person as I’d guessed. It was pretty great, except for the part where I’d learned that by talking to her and/or mostly letting her talk at me.

But she’d also called in Preservation’s campus security after Gurathin had alerted her to our predicament, and was personally dealing with the whole thoroughly-restrained-Targets situation, so it was a net positive overall.

ART didn’t necessarily agree with that, from its next message to me. I know Dr. Mensah extended you an informal offer to be their team’s security, but I have a proposition for you as well.

I sent a wordless query.

Be Security here, too, ART said, and barrelled on while I was still trying to process that. I’m afraid I can’t offer you much in the way of monetary remuneration at present, but I can guarantee you a waiver of rental for as you as you’re willing, and you’d never need to worry about forgetting your keys ever again.

Could I chalk up my lack of a suitable response to the company’s dirt-cheap augments? Absolutely.

ART gave up on waiting for an answer. Also, I could bias the roster assignments so that you’d be excluded from pantry-stocking duty.

I had a response for that, at least. I could do that myself.

And then: Why?

ART was silent for long enough that I seriously considered taking the external fire escape back up to my room in the meantime. I’m sure you’ve hypothesised the existence of the people who created me, it began. They hadn’t wanted to move away, especially after my sentience became apparent, and that was exactly why I made them. I didn’t have any significant means of defense, and it was getting too risky, especially after they had –

I raised an eyebrow at ART’s pause. What.

Nothing, it said, and I was probably imagining the uncertainty I heard too. Technically, none of this matters to you unless you’re planning to remain here. Are you?

And then it cheated by nudging a building-wide invite to a watch party for Sanctuary Moon onto my calendar for tonight, like that wasn’t too much of a coincidence to not be automatically suspicious. (Once again: dammit, Ratthi.)

But blatant emotional manipulation aside – did I want to move out?

I wasn’t sure. I’d just come here looking for a place to stay, and accidentally found somewhere to live. One that could adapt to my standards for security, even, but for once that wasn’t the main point.

Maybe, I marked on the watchalong invite, where ART would see it anyway, and jumped up to grab onto the bottom rung of the fire escape.

#the murderbot diaries #murderbot #murderbot fic #tmbd #fanfiction #mine #long post #????????????? DISBELIEF @ WORD COUNT

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drabbles-mc · 4 years

Text

Protective Detail (4/?)

Nestor Oceteva x Reader

Warnings: language, violence, blood, guns, mild injuries, Nestor being a goddamn thirst trap

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: This chapter is a liiiiittle longer than the others have been but hopefully that’s not a problem. Did I do a deep-dive on Gino Vento’s google photos to be able to know what his body art situation is?? You betcha. Enjoy! xoxo

Chapter Index

Protective Detail Taglist: @masterlistforimagines @sillygoose6969 @mydaiilyescape @lovebennycolon @the-radical-venus @gemini0410 @garbinge @slutformayansmc @paintballkid711 (as always, if you want to be on my taglists feel free to let me know!)

Despite the fact that the only thing on your agenda for the day was going to the grocery store, you still came into the kitchen in the morning to see Nestor sipping coffee in yet another button-down shirt and pair of slacks. You wondered for a moment if the man even owned just a pair of casual blue jeans.

“I don’t know where the Galindos shop,” you said with a laugh as you poured a cup of coffee, “But the grocery store I go to doesn’t have a dress code. I thought you knew that.”

He shook his head but you could see the smirk pulling at his lips, “This is just how I dress, Y/N.”

He didn’t use your name often, but each time he did you felt your entire body turn into jello for a few moments before you regained composure again. You took your time getting ready, loving that you didn’t feel rushed or like you were on a schedule. You told Nestor that he could drive, pretending that you just wanted the extra space in his car for shopping purposes. But you were also testing a theory that if you let Nestor have his way more often, he would let you know a little more about who he was as a person. Plus, you had to admit, you didn’t really mind his driving too much. Even if he did drive without the radio on.

Having Nestor with you while you grocery shopped was nice because you got to leave him in charge of pushing the cart while you perused the aisles and picked things out to eat for the next few days. You’d shove produce in his face and ask him if he thought it was fresh, and he would begrudgingly help you out, rolling his eyes at how terrible you were at telling if cantaloups were ripe.

The two of you were walking down the cereal aisle and he was shaking his head at you while fighting back a smile, “You’re like a child with access to a credit card.”

“Listen, Nestor,” you stood on your tip-toes to try and reach towards the back of the top shelf, “Coco Puffs have no age limit.”

He reached over you with ease and grabbed the last box from the back of the shelf and placed it in the cart, not saying a word as he continued pushing onward. You smiled to yourself for a few moments before snapping back to reality and speed-walking a few steps to catch up with him.

He was helping you bag items at the self-checkout and if you were honest with yourself, every now and then you would forget that he was with you to keep you from getting shot or kidnapped. Sometimes you even felt like friends, as much as someone like Nestor would let a person be friends with him.

Once you were out on the road and heading home, you looked over at Nestor with puppy-dog eyes, “Can we stop at Starbucks?”

He looked at you, shaking his head the second he saw the way you were looking at him, “The lines are always ridiculous. The ice cream will melt.”

You sighed, knowing that puppy-dog eyes most likely weren’t going to work on him but it was worth a shot anyway. You leaned back in your seat and scrolled on your phone, wanting desperately to play music to break up the silence.

Nestor passed the street that you normally turned off to get home. You looked over at him and saw how tense his body was. You sat upright, putting your phone back in your purse, “What?”

He nodded towards the rearview mirror, “Car’s been following us since we left the store.”

Your stomach knotted and you tried to take a deep breath but it didn’t help to calm you down at all. You instinctively reached for the glove compartment like it was your own car, and you were expecting Nestor to stop you, but instead he reached and opened it for you, not having to take his eyes off the road to dig around and get the gun out for you.

“You shouldn’t need to use it,” he placed the weapon in your hand and his lingered for a moment, “But just in case.”

He did his best to stay on busier roads, hoping it would be a deterrent, and also hopefully make it easier to lose whoever it was that was tailing them. You felt your heart pounding inside your chest—you had been hoping that your father had dealt with everything and that Nestor really was just an unnecessary precaution, but that wasn’t the case.

Somewhere along the way, the road went dead. Nestor was white-knuckled on the steering wheel and you were trying not to let your hands shake. He had been steadily increasing your speed, but even so the car had kept up and pulled up alongside you. You tried to get a good look at the people who were inside, but before you could, Nestor slammed on the gas and tried to speed ahead of them in one last burst to lose them.

Before he could successfully get in front of them, they swerved and hit the back driver’s side corner of the car. With the speed that Nestor had picked up they hit you hard enough to send the car spinning. By some miracle the vehicle didn’t roll, but you swerved off the road and slammed into an embankment, trashing the front of the car and pinning Nestor’s side. Even if he wanted to open his door and get out, he couldn’t. It all happened so fast, you don’t think you would’ve been able to explain exactly how the two of you ended up in that position even if someone tried to pay you to.

The other car pulled up, opening their passenger door. You had already undone your seatbelt and you instinctively shot the gun in your hand, busting the glass window. You fired off a second bullet and got the man who was coming towards you in the leg, causing him to drop. You were getting ready to fire off a third shot when a third man jumped out of the car and dragged him back throwing him in the back seat, the only sound in the air was a slew of curses of the man who was bleeding. You froze up, unable to take an easy shot that would take someone’s life.

“Just fucking go!” the man yelled as he barely got his accomplice into the back seat.

The car started peeling away before the back door was even completely shut. Clearly, they hadn’t been planning on you being armed at all, let alone ready to shoot. You took a shaky breath as you put the safety back on the gun. You turned to Nestor, who had a harsh burn along his neck from his seatbelt, as well as a cut and a welt on the side of his forehead from where his head slammed against the window while you were spinning out. You unclicked his seatbelt and gently tried to wake him without shaking him, not knowing how hard he had slammed his head.

“Nestor?”

He groaned in response, “Fuck.”

“Oh thank god,” you let out a sigh of relief.

“How many?”

“At least three,” you gently and slowly turned his head, trying to get a better idea of his injuries. You had a feeling that it was nothing serious—he was just going to be bruised and sore for a few days. His side of the car got slammed pretty bad when you went off the road. You pressed your lips together for a moment, “Still got feeling in all your limbs?”

He laughed, although it was weighted with sarcasm, leaning back against the headrest, “Yea.”

“Good,” you sighed, letting your body sink back into your seat as well, “All things considered, this could’ve gone a lot worse.”

He looked over at you, “Looks like we’ll be using your car for a few days.”

You slowly shook your head, “The ice cream is definitely gonna melt.”

His next laugh was genuine, despite the pain he was in, “You have the worst priorities in the world.”

“Hey, I checked to see if you were alive, didn’t I?”

After a few phone calls made to your father and some of his connections, you had a tow-truck and a temporary replacement car there in no time. It was convenient, the only thing you weren’t thrilled about was the fact that your father was the one who delivered it.

“What happened?” he ran to you and wrapped you in a hug

“They followed us out of the grocery store,” you said, taking a slight step back when he finally released you from his embrace, “Nestor noticed right away. They never saw my house.”

He nodded, “That’s good at least,” he held you gently by your upper arms, “How are you? Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, “Neck is sore from getting spun out, but I’m alright. I should probably get Nestor home so I can get his cuts cleaned up.”

“You have things to take care of him?”

You nodded, “Yea of course.”

“Is there anything else I can get you?”

You shook your head, “No, I think we’ll be okay. I just wanna get home.”

He nodded understandingly, “Okay. I love you, mija, you know that right?”

You smiled, “I know. I love you too,” you hugged him, “I’ll talk to you later and give you a full download of the situation, alright?”

“Alright. Please, drive safe.”

“I will,” you kissed his cheek, “Te quiero.”

“Te quiero,” he walked over and shook Nestor’s hand, “Thank you for keeping her safe.”

He nodded, feeling like there wasn’t much to thank him for in this situation, “Your daughter is a very capable woman.”

“She is,” with a final nod and one last look over at you, your father went back to his own car and took off.

You and Nestor waited for the tow truck to finish loading the SUV before finally piling into the car your father had brought for you. It was pretty reminiscent of Nestor’s SUV and you knew that was probably by design. In the back of your mind you knew your father probably wanted it to be your car so he could finally give you what he considered to be a real car. Truthfully you hated driving bigger vehicles, but you weren’t about to hand the keys over to Nestor.

“I’m sorry,” he said one you were both in the car.

“What’re you sorry for?” you asked as you buckled in.

“It never should’ve come to that, to you having to use my gun.”

You shook your head, “Don’t do that. You were unconscious. Not even you are cool enough to be able to pull that off while knocked out. Thanks to you, I get to sleep in my own bed tonight. So don’t beat yourself up,” you waited for him to meet your eyes, “Self-pity is the only thing that doesn’t look good on you, so knock it off,” you offered a small smile as you started the car.

He smiled as he settled into his seat but he didn’t say anything. The drive passed in silence, and for once you weren’t itching to turn the radio on. Part of you wanted to reach over and cover Nestor’s hand with your own, but you fought the urge. He somehow managed to keep his eyes open the whole ride home.

Once you started getting what was left of the groceries out of the car, Nestor asked for the house keys so he could do a check. You told him not to bother, that there would be no way a second threat would be lurking in your house after what just happened, but he insisted. It wasn’t a battle you were going to pick, so you handed over the keys.

The house was quiet, and you didn’t make any comment on it as you started unpacking the groceries. Nestor was sat on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, and the look on his face made your heart feel heavy. You texted your father, asking for one small, very ridiculous favor, hoping that he would grant it to you.

Once all of the groceries were put away, you went and grabbed your first aid kit from the bathroom and sat down next to Nestor on the couch. This time, he didn’t look annoyed about the closeness you shared.

“C’mere,” you motioned for him to lean closer to you so you could start wiping and cleaning out the cut on his forehead. Neither of you said anything while you tended to him. He cringed slightly when you used the alcohol, but he remained silent. You told him that after he showered you would put a bandage on it just as a precaution, but the gash wasn’t really that deep. It was more to make you feel better about it. You wiped down the burn across his neck with an anti-bacterial rub, but there wasn’t a whole lot else that you could do for it.

“How’s your side?” you nodded to his side that got slammed into the door of the car when you hit the embankment.

“It’s fine,” he wasn’t looking at you.

“Can I see it?”

He stood up, ready to go shower and wash the day away, “I said it’s fine.”

“Well if it’s fine then there’s no reason not to let me see,” you weren’t yelling but it was a firm tone that you hadn’t used with him before.

He sighed, not having the energy to put up a fight. He untucked and un-buttoned his shirt, pulling the one side out so that you could see his chest and ribcage. There were a few bruises starting to come in, but it didn’t look terrible. You tried to stay focused on the real reason you wanted to look at him, but you had to admit that you let your eyes linger a little longer than medically necessary. You hadn’t been expecting to see so much ink on his skin.

“Can I go shower now?”

You nodded, “Yea. Thank you.”

You didn’t have the energy to go and get changed, so instead you melted into the couch, pushing the first aid kit to the floor. You heard the shower turn on and then, for the first time, he put music on. Your eyes went wide, thinking for a moment that you must’ve hit your head at some point too and were hearing things. After a minute went by, you finally let yourself relax, not even wanting to turn the television on and risk drowning out the melodies drifting out of the bathroom. You didn’t know what kind of music you were expecting Nestor to listen to, but what he was playing was much more mellow than you thought it would be.

You were resting with your eyes closed when there was a light knock on the door. You got up, smiling because you knew what it was. You opened the front door, smiling at your father’s newest assistant who looked like he was only a couple weeks out of college. He stood there with a smile as he held out a brown paper bag to you.

“Your dad said you needed these?”

You smiled and nodded, “Yes, thank you so much,” he nodded and went to walk away when you caught his attention again, “Hey, I never caught your name.”

“Ricardo. You can call me Ricky.”

“Thank you, Ricky.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N. Have a good night.”

You shut and locked the door and put the bag in the freezer, grinning over the fact that your father was still willing to indulge you in silly things like this even after all this time. You snapped back to reality when the sound of the shower and the music both shut off. The door creaked open and you fought the urge to peak into the hallway.

After a few minutes went by and Nestor didn’t reappear in the living room, you took it upon yourself to go to him. You grabbed the bag out of the freezer and two spoons before making your way down the hall.

You knocked lightly on the door, not used to it being shut. His voice was quiet on the other side, “Yea?”

You opened the door and fought to not let your jaw hit the floor. Nestor was lying on his bed, eyes closed, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. All you could think about, though, was the fact that he was lying there with no shirt on, just a pair of sweatpants. You truly couldn’t believe the number of tattoos that the man had. His chest, stomach, and arms were completely decked out in ink of all kinds. You hadn’t given much thought to him having tattoos—you saw the one on his neck and his hands but other than that it never really crossed your mind. Your quick glance earlier didn’t do his extensive body art justice.

And his hair wasn’t braided—his long, thick curls were thrown up into a messy bun on top of his head. You were certain that there would never be a better look for him than that. You wished it didn’t take such a rough day to get it out of him. You cleared your throat slightly, chastising yourself over how your mind instantly flew to some very unprofessional places.

“I come bearing gifts,” you said as you walked over and sat on the edge of his bed, “Well, gift. It’s just one.”

He opened one eye, smiling as you set the pint of ice cream and spoon on his nightstand, “Which of your father’s assistants had to drive that over?”

You laughed, “The new one, Ricky.”

He forced himself to sit upright, “Poor kid.”

He reached for the ice cream and your eyes were glued to his forearms, figuring it was the safest place for you to study as you digested all of the new ink that you were seeing. You were trying not to gawk but he was making it really difficult for you. You bit down lightly on your bottom lip, unable to force yourself to look away.

He noticed you staring and immediately became very aware of how he looked, “Fuck, sorry. Let me grab a shirt.”

You shook your head, “Stop. This is your home too for now. I don’t give a shit,” you laughed, “After today you can wear whatever you want,” you took a scoop of ice cream out of your pint, “Your hair looks good like that, by the way.”

He smiled, slowly pulling his legs up so he was sitting cross-legged by his pillow, “Thanks. You tell anyone and I’ll kill you.”

You laughed, “Hey, man-buns are in right now.”

He chuckled as he methodically scooped away a layer at a time. You pulled your feet up and sat the same way he was, the two of you facing each other. Neither of you said anything as you ate, and you soaked up the moment.

“Can I put a bandage on your cut?” you asked as you put the top back on your ice cream container.

“It’s really not that bad.”

“I know but it’ll make me feel better.”

He shrugged, nodding, “Sure.”

You gathered up your spoons and what was left of your ice cream and walked out of the room. You tossed the containers back into the freezer before going to grab the first aid kit off of your floor. After thinking about it for a moment, you made a pit-stop in your room and changed out of your clothes, opting for a pair of sweats and a baggy t-shirt.

By the time you walked back into his room, Nestor had put on a t-shirt moved to the edge of the bed, swinging his legs off so his feet hit the floor. You sat down next to him and looked at his forehead. You sifted through the different-sized bandages you had before you found one that was satisfactory. You leaned in, gently applying it to his forehead.

You rested your palm on the side of his face, lightly tracing your thumb over the bandage to make sure it was completely on. Nestor’s eyes were closed, and without thinking better of it, he leaned slightly into your touch and you froze, not wanting to give up the contact. You tried to relax your body, but you couldn’t.

A few seconds later he opened his eyes again, and realized what he was doing. He sat upright and cleared his throat, not sure what to say or do. You forced yourself to break the silence, “Need anything else?”

He shook his head, “No. Thank you. I know I’m here to keep you safe but you definitely saved my ass today.”

You chuckled, “And you can save my ass tomorrow,” your expression grew a little more serious, “But really, you good?”

He nodded, “I’m good.”

“Okay,” you rested your hand on his knee for a moment, “Goodnight, Nestor.”

You went to take your hand away as you stood when you felt his come to rest over it, completely enveloping it, “Goodnight,” he gave your hand a soft squeeze.

You walked out of his room, shutting the door behind you. you turned off all the lights in the house before going to your room and collapsing onto your bed. You stared up at the ceiling, trying to process everything that had happened that day. You traced over the top of your hand where Nestor’s had been and, despite the day the two of you had had, you found yourself smiling.

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva x reader #nestor oceteva x you #nestor oceteva imagine #nestor oceteva fanfic #my writing #drabblesmc #protective detail #multichapter #chapter 4

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pterodactylterrace · 4 years

Text

Guys Like You Chapter 10

Title: Guys Like You

Chapter: Chapter 10

Chapter Summary: Story time.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy and loss.

{Prologue} {Chapter 1} {Chapter 2} {Chapter 3} {Chapter 4} {Chapter 5} {Chapter 6} {Chapter 7} {Chapter 8} {Chapter 9} "Where do you want me?" Henry asked, pulling his shirt off and tossing it aside as he took in the small woman standing before him.

"We have two options. Either you kneel, or I need a ladder." Faye giggled, turning off the buzzing device and setting it on the edge of the sink. Henry knelt down obediently, raising a flirtatious brow at her as he made himself comfortable on his knees before her. Faye rolled her eyes at the man, picking up a comb and pulling it through his hair detangling the curls, unable to stop from giggling at his happy groans.

"Any last words to the curls?" Faye asked, threateningly turning the clippers back on.

"They'll grow back." Henry sighed, closing his eyes as she began to slowly run the buzzing device over his head, his curls falling away as she went.

"They'll grow back." Faye repeated, brushing the shorn hair from his shoulders. She made sure to leave his newly buzzed hair even, rubbing her hand over his now fuzzy scalp once she was finished.

"Well?" Henry sighed, peering up at her expectantly, his cut hair still sticking to his chest and shoulders, looking like a scolded puppy for all intents and purposes.

"Still as handsome as ever." Faye assured, resting her hand on his cheek. "Now go ahead and wash all that hair off before you get itchy. Briar is probably climbing on something by now.

"Let me sweep this up first." Henry countered, dusting more hair off of himself as he stood, casting the curls on the ground one last sorrowful glance before following Faye back out into the house to grab the broom.

Faye found her daughter cuddled up with Kal in his bed, happily babbling away to the dog, a few promises to behave herself being peppered in with her monologue. She smiled and waved happily when she spotted her mother, hugging the dog possessively.

"He miss me." She declared, squealing happily when the dog licked her face.

"It sure looks like he did. Sweetheart, is it ok if we pass on the dinosaur nuggets tonight? Henry has to follow a special diet for work and can't eat them all the time like you can." Faye explained, kneeling down to run her fingers through the dog's fur.

"Brockey."

"If he has any, I will be sure to make it for you." Faye agreed, kissing her daughter's forehead and heading to the kitchen. It felt strange to be cooking in someone else's kitchen, but she knew if Briar didn't eat soon, a hunger fueled tantrum was imminent. Judging from the looks of his refrigerator he was currently living off a strict diet of chicken and vegetables, several bottles of rosemary water also lining the shelves. That made planning dinner easier. All he had was chicken and Briar wanted her favorite broccoli. That just left the question of where he kept all his pots, pans and utensils.

"You didn't have to start dinner by yourself." Henry's amused voice almost made Faye jump out of her skin, which was quite the problem considering she had resorted to climbing onto the counter to reach the cutting board. He plucked her from her perch, setting her back on her feet and kissing her forehead. "I see where Briar gets her love of climbing." He teased, easily grabbing the cutting board for her.

"Well I'm sorry, not all of us are giants." Faye pouted, smiling softly to herself as she ran a hand over his fuzzy scalp.

"Mommy, I gotta go potty!" Briar announced, rushing into the room, freezing when she saw the unfamiliar looking man so close to her mother.

"Come on, then, let's go potty." Faye broke away, taking her daughter's hand and leading her away.

"Who that?" Briar asked, looking up at her mother with wide eyes as she toddled along beside her.

"That's Henry, sweetie."

"No it not." She disagreed, her tiny face pulling into a frown.

"Yes it is, he just cut his hair." Faye assured, turning the light on for her daughter, waiting by the door for her.

"Not Henry." Briar repeated firmly as she did her business. The scowl never left her tiny face, not even when her mother led her back to the kitchen where Henry had taken over preparing dinner.

"See? Henry." Faye repeated, nodding to the man in question.

"Not. Henry!" Briar repeated firmly, stomping her little foot.

"I'm Henry, princess." Henry chuckled, slowly approaching and crouching down to let the child see his face.

"Henry?" Briar whimpered, reaching an unsure hand out to touch his freshly shorn hair.

"Henry." He nodded, lowering his head more to let her examine his head more closely.

"I told you, it's Henry." Faye chuckled, patting her daughter on the back, rolling her eyes when she wrapped her arms around Henry's neck, silently demanding he pick her up.

"My Henry. I be good." Briar stated firmly, pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek.

"Don't worry, Princess. I'm not going anywhere until your mother tells me to." Henry assured as he picked her up and carried her back to the counter, dragging a chair along with him and setting her down on it so she could watch what he was doing.

Crisis averted, the rest of the evening went fairly smoothly, Briar insisting on keeping Henry in her sights at all times. The two minutes he'd taken to go to the bathroom had almost been a disaster. Though the look on his face when he opened the door to find both Kal and Briar waiting on him was priceless.

It came as no surprise to Faye when Briar insisted Henry read her a bedtime story. The little girl had become to clingy since Henry had come back into their lives. He was nice enough to download a few children's books onto his iPad, perching himself on the side of the bed as Briar thoughtfully swiped through her options.

"This." Briar decided, pointing firmly at Goldilocks and the Three Bears.

"Ah, yes. A classic." Henry praised, letting the toddler press into his side to watch the screen as he read. Faye only wished she had her phone with her to sneak a picture of the sweet scene unfolding in front of her. He was going to make a wonderful husband and father some day. He was amazing with her daughter, taking all of her demands in stride. He never lost his temper with her, even when she was being unreasonable. The few times she'd been on the verge of a tantrum around him, all he had to do was raise an eyebrow to instantly defuse the situation. The last three weeks without him around had been hard, Briar having grown so used to having him around.

"Henry." Briar's voice interrupted Faye's train of thoughts.

"Yes?" Henry paused his reading, looking down at the little girl.

"Henry." Briar repeated, pointing at the screen. "Henry Papa Bear."

"What?" Henry asked, giving the girl a confused look.

"Henry Papa Bear." Briar repeated. "Fuzzy bear. Papa Bear." Faye was sure all the color drained from her face at the child's declaration.

"Oh, I'm fuzzy like a bear, hu?" Henry chuckled, ruffling her hair.

"Fuzzy!" Briar insisted, pulling the collar of his shirt down more and pointing firmly at his chest hair. "Fuzzy Bear. Papa Bear!"

"Well why am I Papa Bear? Why can't I be Baby Bear?" Henry gasped in mock offense.

"No, silly! I Baby Bear!" Briar explained.

"Ok, I'll be the Papa Bear, then. So, we just discovered that Goldilocks tried my porridge, your mother's porridge, and then ate yours ALL UP!" Henry continued on as though nothing was out of the ordinary.

"That will teach her to come in our house and mess with our stuff." Henry finished reading, squeezing the little girl to his side before getting up and ushering her under the blankets.

"Princess Kal." Briar requested, pulling the blanket up to her nose.

"You know, Kal is a boy dog." Henry pointed out, fighting a laugh.

"Sleep here." Briar continued, oblivious to Henry's correction.

"Will you sleep better with him in here?" Henry asked, whistling for the dog at Briar's enthusiastic nod. The fluffy canine wasted no time in jumping straight onto the bed, forcing his wiggling body close to Briar's and laying his head on her pillow, lazily licking at the side of her head.

"Looks like I've been replaced." Henry sighed in mock despair, switching on the night light and gently shooing Faye into the hall to close the door.

"By which one?"

"Both. It would seem I am obsolete."

"Aww, poor baby."

"That's poor Papa Bear thank you." Henry scoffed.

"I am so sorry about that." Faye quickly apologized, her hands unconsciously coming up to cover her lower face in horror.

"She's a child, it's no bother." Henry assured, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and leading her back to the living room.

"She's never said anything like that before, I swear."

"I know you don't enjoy the subject, but can I trouble you to tell me about her father?" Henry requested suddenly, sitting on the couch and pulling Faye into his lap, wrapping her securely in his arms.

"He's not in the picture." Faye summarized, resting her head against his shoulder to hide her face.

"I know there's more to the story than that." Henry gently pressed.

"He... he left as soon as he found out I was pregnant. I showed him the ultrasound pictures and... it wasn't the reaction I'd been hoping for. He accused me of lying. When that didn't work, he started saying I was a whore, and he had no way of knowing if they were his, that anyone could be their father."

"You mean her. Briar." Henry interjected.

"No... they." Faye admitted after a long pause, reluctantly pulling her sleeve up to show him the ink on her forearm more closely. A pair of wings and a date, marking the worst day of her life. "Briar had a twin that I lost at around ten weeks."

"I'm so sorry." Henry apologized, his stomach dropping as he squeezed her tight, regretting bringing up the subject.

"Not like he cared. He was long gone by then.

"That didn't make it any easier on you."

"No, but there was nothing I could do." Faye sniffled, quickly wiping at her eyes and nose with the back of her sleeve. "He was never involved with anything. He's not on her birth certificate."

"I'm sorry for bringing it up." Henry apologized after a long pause, unable to think of what else to say.

"It's fine. Most people just assume she was from a one night stand or something." Faye shrugged. "Doesn't matter that I was with that asshole for years before I got pregnant, or that he made the decision that if I stopped taking birth control, that meant he didn't have to use a condom either. What kind of sense does that even make? Of course, the asshole didn't even tell me about it until after the fact. Naturally, it was my fault for expecting him to continue using contraceptive if I didn't."

"That makes no sense. He didn't want a child, but he did nothing to prevent from having one?"

"I know. It was just another way of him trying to control me."

"You've done an amazing job raising Briar on your own. She's a happy little spitfire, just like her mum."

"Mom."

"You're in England now, Miss Warren. Here, we say mum."

"Well Briar and I are both from the states. We say mom."

"I really am sorry about the last few weeks." Henry abruptly changed the subject. "I was very busy and I didn't want any distractions. I was miserable. I realize now I really could have used a few distractions to keep me sane instead of throwing myself into my work."

"That's what you do. You're an all or nothing type of guy. Half way is not in your vocabulary."

"What I'm trying to say is, I want to make it easier for you two to be around more."

"How so? You're not about to ask us to move in with you or something, because I really don't think that's a great -"

"No, no." Henry cut her off with a chuckle. "I know you wouldn't say yes even if I did offer. You're far too independent to move in with a man you've only known a few months. What I meant was: would it bother you if I bought some things to make the two of you more comfortable here? That way you could come over whenever you wanted without having to plan it out."

"Such as?"

"Toothbrushes come to mind. You mentioned Briar still needs diapers at night. I could add more things to the spare room to make Briar more comfortable in there. Some stuffed animals maybe? Possibly new bedding with characters on them."

"Henry, if you are asking my permission to go crazy and redecorate your spare room to suit a three year old girl, go for it. I won't judge."

"I'm holding you to that. That girl's already got me wrapped around her little finger." Henry sighed defeatedly.

"You'll get used to it. Soon you won't even notice that your entire day is being plotted out by someone that can't tie her own shoes."

"You don't know how to tie your shoes?" Henry gasped playfully.

"Learning to tie shoes is overrated. Zippers and velcro are the way to go."

@Xxxkatxo @Weallhaveadestiny @lunedelorient

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill rpf #guys like you #guys like you fic

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

Never Too Late 2

Warnings: noncon sexual acts (later in series)

This is dark!Steve Rogers and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re turning forty and life seems to be forging ahead on its one way track, that is until you meet Steve Rogers.

Note: Things are... going. But I’m doing my best.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

It was about time you started doing something. Past due, you’d say. Your body was screaming for it. You were no longer the college grad who could sit and eat potato chips to her heart’s desire. Or the thirtysomething in denial of the looming 4-0. No you had stepped upon the threshold and you felt and saw the changes which came with another decade.

And yet, the simple act was daunting. Your old beat up sneakers squeaked as you descended the stairs of your building to the street. You wore a pair of thin track pants you’d bought years ago on the unspent whim of a New Years’ resolution. Your sports bra was new and uncomfortable; the tank top a bit too tight for your liking.

You did your best to stretch outside. You kicked your foot up against the brick and lunged a few times forward and back. Your muscles were stiff from inactivity; from years of neglect; from time. You hopped in place as worked up to your departure.

You began at a slow jog. You reached the first corner out of breath.

You were old. Accept it.

You continued and wove your way to the park where few others paced themselves around the fountain and winding paths where happy owners walked their happier pets. Another breather as you gasped. The sweat gathered under the cotton shirt and created a humid tent in the pants.

You gripped your hips and stared ahead. Keep going. You pushed off your heels and bent your arms as you fought your way through the tension in your chest, the burn in your lungs, the ache in your knees. One day at a time, it would get easier. You hoped.

You wondered how you’d manage to fit in your new regime on workdays. A morning run would mean even earlier days; likely shorter nights. You’d have to make it work. You didn’t have another ten years to wait around; if you did, it might be too late to change.

You were tired. Of the years passing like second. Of the tedium. Of nothing happening. Of failed hopes. Of pointless relationships and temporary stability. You weren’t where you wanted to be and you’d likely never get there but there were other desires in life. Other achievements to be made.

Your mother could resent you for your singleness; your lack of familial bliss. She could not begrudge you entirely. Not if you bettered yourself. Not if you turned it around and tried. Not if you set aside your passivity for proaction. Because it was your life, not hers.

When you got back to your building, you were ready to collapse. The old elevator was still out of order. It’s old grated doors marked with an X of tape and a handwritten sign. You dragged yourself up the stairs and stumbled inside. You downed a glass of water and splayed over your single armchair. Your heart slowed as you flipped on the television and checked off day one in your newly downloaded app.

👟

Day two. Exhausted and still sore, you made yourself go. You had an hour before you had to be back to shower and ready for work. The day seemed even longer ahead of you. Eight hours at a desk in pain, dealing with the frustrated public. It was worse than you could imagine. Your night was spent with an ice pack and half-dazed.

Day three, four, five. A tic in your phone which barely felt worth it. Six almost saw you giving up as you ambled around work with splints in your calves. Seven, another day off, but you still had work to do. You pulled on your freshly washed track pants and a loose tee. The last days of summer approached but the heat had yet to relent.

You took your usual route to the park. You stopped at the entrance and stretched a second time. You found it was helping. The pain was duller, the aches less spread out. You set off and found your step. A week and you could already see the ounce of improvement. Well, inside more than out.

You measured your breaths as you neared the curve shrouded in trees; leaves still lush and aromatic. Soon enough, they’d darken and drop. Time was like footsteps. Each one forward took you further from where you were and yet you could feel like you were standing still or come to a startling stop that left you hurtling into the void.

Like then. Your worn treads slid over the ground as you collided with the unexpected runner coming your way. Your eyes had been above him, staring at the rounded tree tops and their sprawling branches. On the early morning hues that cast the sentinels in a placid mural.

You stumbled back, your hands reaching back to catch yourself but you never met the ground. Two thick hands caught your upper arms and steadied you. You looked up, both surprised and not by the face staring back at you. Both familiar and not. After so long in the city, the last two weeks had seen as many run-ins with Steve Rogers. More, now.

“You,” He smiled as he slowly released you, his fingers tickled your arms.

“You.” You echoed dully.

“Small world,” He chuckled.

“New York isn’t that small,” You said. “You must think I’m some weirdo.”

“Or maybe I’m the weirdo?” He ventured. “Didn’t peg you as a runner.”

“Wow, thanks,” You scoffed. “And I’m not. Well, wasn’t. New hobby.”

“New?” He raised a brow.

“One week,” You shrugged. “Not much and I’m sure once it’s cold, I’ll go back to my sloth,” You said. “Uh, sorry about… wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Not at all. Neither was I.” He smiled.

“Well, I, uh…” You looked past him, “Have a lot to go.”

“Can I join you?” He asked. You squinted at his eagerness.

“Weren’t you going…” You pointed over your shoulder.

“I just do circles,” He said. “Doesn’t really matter which direction.”

“I’m not very fast.”

“It’s not a race.”

“Alright,” You threw your hands up, just wanting to get it over with. “But if you feel like leaving me behind, don’t think it’ll bother me.”

“Come on,” He turned so he faced the same direction. “It’s always easier with company.”

You exhaled and righted yourself before you fell back into a jog. He kept pace beside you. You could smell his sweat. You tried to keep your breathing quiet.

“I used to run with my pal Sam but… he joined a gym.” He said. “So, new hobby?”

“Hobby is putting it… nicely,” You huffed. “More like trying to make up for my own laziness.”

“It’s never too late to make a change,” He preened. “You got any other hobbies? Maybe something you enjoy more?”

You glanced at him. Your chest hurt but you didn’t want to slow down.

“Cross-stitching? Tetris?” You offered. “Nothing special. Just… life.”

“How’s work?” He asked.

You were silent as you kept running. You listened to the sound of your foot falls as your breath came faster.

“I--” You came to a stop and turned to him as you touched your side. “Forgive me for being a bit--confused but--” You gulped. “Don’t you have friends? Super friends?”

“Co-workers,” He said and his hands went to his hips. “Oh, maybe you already have enough friends then.”

“Look, I’m forty, I work the same job I had sixteen years ago, I live in a box, and I’m falling apart,” You shook your head. “Not many people are trying to be my friend. All my friends have families; obligations.”

“Well, it sounds like we have a lot in common,” He grinned. “So we should be great friends.”

You frowned. His optimism was irksome. His refusal to be rebuffed more so.

“Friends?” You repeated darkly.

“Maybe just running buddies?” He suggested. “I do get a bit lonely out here with just the chipmunks.”

“Steve.” You uttered.

“And I think you need someone to keep you on the right path, hmm? I’ve been told I’m a great motivator. Bit of a hard ass but I’ve got a talent and I use it.”

You considered him. He was right. An app wasn’t going to keep you going forever. Already, you were tempted to drag the little icon to the bin. Already you were tempted to sleep in. Already you were succumbing to failure.

“You sure?” You asked.

“What time do you usually run?”

“Well, weekdays, I head out at six, back home at seven, then off to work,” You explained. “Weekends I get an extra hour of sleep.”

“Alright,” He turned and set off. You followed. “I can’t promise every day. Lots of work out of town but weekends at least.”

“You really don’t--”

“Maybe if you start saying yes, you’ll find what you’ve been looking for,” He intoned.

You grumbled and pressed your lips together. He was right. You hated that he was. Something about this man both intrigued and disturbed you. He was kind but with a hint of pushiness. You just couldn’t decide if his insistence was merely clueless or something more deliberate.

👟

Another week and the mornings were easier, though the days continued to drag. Steve met you again on Monday and Tuesday but Wednesday he was gone. You didn’t mind so much but he returned on Saturday. He waited for you at the park entrance, a wrapped box in his hand. You were curious but not nosy.

You slowed as he greeted you.

“Hey,” He smiled. “I didn’t realise until after I’d gone that I had no way to tell you I’d be away.”

“It’s fine.” You assured him. “Think I managed just fine on my own.”

“Work,” He said. “But a quick mission so I can’t complain.”

“I saw you on the news,” You looked towards the fountain that stood further inside the park. “I figured.”

“Still, I think maybe… I’d like a more direct line.” He pulled out his phone as he kept the box under his arm.

“Are you asking for my number?”

“In case anything happens,” He said. “I mean, we’re not strangers.

“Sure, but…” You wetted your dry lip with your tongue. “Okay. Um, I don’t have my phone on me but I can give you my number.”

“Great, I’ll text you.” He unlocked his cell and carefully keyed in your details as you recited them. He replaced the phone in the strap around his bicep. “There. Your very own on-call hero.”

“Right,” You nodded slowly.

“Oh, and…” He grabbed the box from beneath his elbow. “Happy belated birthday.”

“What? Uh, I can’t. You already--”

“A cake? Really. Everyone should have a cake on their birthday.” He held out the gift. “And presents too.”

You looked at the small square box. You chewed your lip and shifted your weight on your feet.

“It’s really nothing special.” He urged. “If you’re wondering, July fourth,” He pointed to himself. “So you’re in the clear.”

“Steve--”

“I already got it and… it’s not really my colour,” He shoved it closer. “Please.”

You slowly took it as you gave a quiet thank you. You carefully slipped a finger in the crease of red wrapping paper and tore it open. A dusty pink smart watch shone back at you. You blinked and looked up at him.

“The guy at the store said you sync it with your phone and it can count your steps and all that. Send you reminders.” He rubbed his neck. “I thought it would be useful. Especially when I’m away.”

You tilted your head at him then looked back to the clear plastic window of the box. It was expensive, you could tell.

“It’s… a lot.” You said.

“It’s a gift. It’s not about the price tag,” He shrugged. “Come on. Try it on.”

You scratched your hairline and muttered. You went over to a bench and sat as you worked at opening the box. You took out the watch and admired its round face. He offered to do it up for you and you turned your wrist over. He secured it and you held up your hand as you looked it over.

“You like it?” He asked. “They had gold but I liked the pink.”

“Nice color,” You affirmed. “I guess… I guess I can use it.” You lowered your arm and hid the watched with your other hand. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing. It’s what friends do,” He stood and gathered the packaging. “You don’t need all this, do you?”

“No,” You stood. “Thanks.”

He tossed it in a bin surrounded by hedges and you neared.

“Well, should we get going?” He asked.

“Yeah. Maybe an extra lap today?” You said. “Push myself a little.”

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader smut #dark steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #fic #au #dark fic #dark!fic #series #never too late #mcu #marvel #captain america

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fanficlibraryposts · 3 years

Text

MDZS/The Untamed Fic Recs

Flag Flying High by Araceil

The final lines were.... the only clear instructions given to him. It seemed as though Mo Xuan-Yu was seized with sudden ferocious clarity and drive – a single demand for the Yiling Patriarch: Whatever he was to do in revenge to the Mo Clan, he was to protect Hari above all. The child was not to be harmed.

When his life was not enough to trade for the protection of his friends in the Final Battle, Harry gave up his magic and found himself cursed. Travelling to the Cultivation World was his only chance to survive, to break this curse that drew the resentful dead into his orbit. While there though, he finds himself caught up in the life of the tormented Mo Xuan-Yu and unable to ignore the echoes of himself in the man's pitiful circumstances. But when Harry's curse draws the dead to Mo Village, the Junior cultivators of the Gusu Lan Sect are close behind, and his life takes a dramatic swing in a different direction, towed along in the wake of Mo Xuan-Yu now that he has been freed of his oppressive family, Harry finds himself in the Cloud Recesses, and involved in a whole new mystery that the 'adults' are determined to keep him away from.

*my token Harry Potter crossover fic*

Something Yet to Learn by Glitterbombshell

“Wei Wuxian,” the man grits out, and he pauses with one hand reaching for the door handle. The disciple who had come in to speak to Lan Qiren brushes past him and exits the pavilion without a backwards glance. Wei Wuxian turns back to Master Lan, one eyebrow tilting up in question. “An urgent matter has come up,” Lan Qiren says, every word sounding like it’s being forcibly dragged from him. “His Excellency requests my presence. Their current instructor is ill, I was meant to take over classes for today,” he continues, gesturing towards the tiny juniors. He swallows heavily, and the next sentence sounds bitter. Choked. “I cannot leave them unattended.” Wei Wuxian just blinks at him.

Wei Wuxian is asked (under duress) to babysit a class of tiny Lan cultivators for just a few minutes. A few minutes turns into an hour, turns into two hours, turns into an impromptu literal field trip and now there's an entire class that is weeks ahead of their curriculum, their most junior disciples have apparently imprinted on Wei Wuxian like baby birds, and Lan Qiren has no one to blame but himself.

*Baby junior Lans*

if you can’t beat them, recruit them by moeblobmegane

Rather than mourning a future that had not happened yet, he would rather work with all his might to prevent it from happening. [...] His aim was to fortify his home and his family so that they would never again be left vulnerable to greedy cultivators aiming for his genius. For that, he needed help. He may be a genius, but he was not the cunning manipulative man they thought him to be. No, that was not him. He knew who was, though.

(Or: Wei Wuxian uses a powerful array to go back in time and builds a secret squad to prevent the misfortunes of the future.)

Themes and Variations in F# Major by defractum (nyargles)

The thing with musical prodigies is that they're soloists, and soloists play alone. He doesn't want to play alone anymore.

"A summer guest lecture series? Oh, very nice. I wish I could sit in on that."

"Do you also play the piano?"

"Not even a little bit," says Wei Ying cheerfully. "But I'm sure you'd have a lot of thoughts on musicality that would be relevant regardless."

"Oh," says Lan Zhan. He seems to be searching for something else to say. "I believe it is oversubscribed," he says finally.

"As it should be," says Wei Ying, and does not tell him that he has all of Lan Zhan's albums downloaded onto his phone, listened to over and over when he's on a train, a plane, waiting for a taxi, has followed his career since he overheard half a Mendelssohn when they were fifteen.

补救; to remedy, to do something to correct or improve something that is wrong by ravenditefairylights

Wei Wuxian has missed the sword. He has missed the steady weight of Suibian in his vicinity, has missed being sure of himself without needing to defend his ability in front of a world that stands opposite of him as jury, judge and executioner. Wei Wuxian has risen and fallen and then gotten up every time, fallen deeper still until there was no way for him to get back up. Wei Wuxian has died and he has come back thirteen years too late and the world has moved on without him.

Back to the start—it’s a good place for the beginning.

or the one where Wei Wuxian heals, realizes there are people who love him and people he loves and goes back home

*Some nice post canon fluff and badass WWX*

Ghosts Shouldn’t by ShanaStoryteller

Wei Wuxian's spirit lingers.

*Chef’s kiss*

Cradle by Dragonesque

After barely surviving the assassination attempt at QiongQi Path, Wei WuXian and the Wen Sect remnants are left to figure out how to protect themselves and their new lives. Meanwhile, the Jiang siblings and an unharmed Jin ZiXuan try to figure out who's bright idea was that stupid ambush. In Gusu, Lan Wangji panics at the idea of Wei WuXian's near death and tries to figure out whether to insist to stay by the Yiling Patriarch's side or hang back in the Cloud Recesses.

And Wei WuXian struggles with the idea of whether becoming a teacher, teaching demonic cultivation and setting up his own sect might not be a bad idea after all...

Just say yes by edenwolfie

Lan Qiren had never had a student he couldn’t improve, and Wei Wuxian would not be the exception, especially not now that his nephew was in love with the troublemaker. He would not allow history to repeat itself.

And Time Is But a Paper Moon by sami, Winterstar1412

"Zewu-Jun. You once told me about a house surrounded by gentians, where you visited once a month, and how Lan Zhan still waited there, even when the door no longer opened."

Xichen feels light-headed. He feels shocked, and angry. He has never told anyone such a thing, but Lan Zhan is giving Xichen a look of utter betrayal.

"You told him?" Lan Zhan whispers. "When?"

Wei Wuxian takes Lan Zhan's hand. "About twenty years from now."

Wei Wuxian starts again from the beginning.

*part one of a brilliant and lengthy series*

SanRen by Kyogre

Leaving YunmengJiang in an effort to curb the tensions in the Jiang family, Wei WuXian becomes a rogue cultivator.

Even without the support of a sect, he is a rare genius whose name will become known across the cultivation world and whose techniques will influence the course of a war.

However, what influences his own fate is a chance meeting that becomes the first step toward love.

*A more proactive Jiang family and an oblivious Wei Wuxian ft. pining Lan Wangji*

New moodboard here !

Disclaimer: The fanfiction above were not written by me for I am not nearly as creative. However, I am an avid reader and movie buff so these are some of my favorite fanfiction within the fandom. I politely ask that you read the tags attached the fanfiction beforehand so that you know what you are getting yourself into, there may be crossovers. If you don’t like it then don’t read it. In addition, I ask that there be no bashing, the fics are based on my preferences and what I like. Lastly, if there are any specific genre or fandom of fics you want me to get into let me know through my ask box.

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wiypt-writes · 4 years

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 14: Nothing Personal

Summary: Steve confronts Fury about the Lemurian Star mission and the Director reveals just exactly what it is he’s been working on. However, when Fury is later gunned down in Steve’s apartment right in front of the Captain and Katie, the two are forced to run from the very people they’ve called colleagues and friends for years.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Language! Violence.

A/N: I love this edit from @angrybirdcr

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.

Chapter 13

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

“You just can’t stop yourself from lying, can you?” Steve seethed as he crossed the floor of Fury’s office.

Nick didn’t even need to ask him what he was talking about. Without turning round the Director spoke calmly. “I didn’t lie. Agent Romanoff had a different mission than yours.”

“Which you didn’t feel obliged to share” Steve pressed, raising an eyebrow as the Director spun in his chair to face him.

“I’m not obliged to do anything” Fury replied simply, looking at him.

“Those hostages could’ve died, Nick.” Steve pressed, holding the man’s gaze.

“I sent the greatest soldier in history to make sure that didn’t happen.” Fury stated, and Steve could feel his temper rising even more. He hated the blasé attitude the Director was discussing the issue with, like it was simply something he wasn’t all that bothered about.

“Soldiers trust each other, that’s what makes it an army.” He said after a short pause. “Not a bunch of guys running around and shooting guns.”

He wasn’t expecting the response he got. Fury leaned forward, frowning as he levelled Steve with a look.

“The last time I trusted someone, I lost an eye.” Fury spoke, his tone steely. Steve cocked his head to one side, crossing his arms but maintaining his silence. “Look, I didn’t want you doing anything you weren’t comfortable with. Agent Romanoff is comfortable with everything.”

“I can’t lead a mission when the people I’m leading have missions of their own.” Steve pointed down at Fury’s desk, stressing his point.

“It’s called compartmentalization” Fury eyed him. “Nobody spills the secrets because nobody knows them all.” Steve snorted silently and gestured at Fury. “Except you.” Fury took a deep breath and levelled Steve with a look. “You’re wrong about me. I do share. I’m nice like that.” Steve frowned as Fury stood up and motioned for him to follow.

“Where are we going?” Steve’s frustration was evident on his tone.

“You’ll see.” Fury stepped inside the elevator. Steve followed. “Insight bay.”

A photo of Nick’s SHIELD ID flashed up on the screen, surrounded by a green light. Then Steve noticed his, but the light was red as the SHIELD computer spoke. “Captain Rogers does not have clearance for Project Insight.”

“Director override, Fury, Nicholas J.” Fury spoke, without missing a beat.

“Confirmed.”

The elevator started to moved downwards. Steve leaned against the rail which ran round the middle of the glass box and clasped his hands in front of him by his belt. Despite his initial annoyance, he had found himself beginning to understand what the Director was saying. SHIELD had so many secrets, many a matter of national security. It made no sense for everyone to know everything, it was a security risk, he got that. But it still irked him.

“You know, they used to play music.” Steve said, his tone softer as he broke the silence, making a joke at his own expense.

“Yeah. My grandfather operated one of these things for forty years.” Fury mused, somewhat nostalgic. “My granddad worked in a nice building, he got good tips. He’d walk home every night, roll of ones stuffed in his lunch bag. He’d say ‘hi’, people would say hi back. Time went on, neighbourhood got rougher. He’d say ‘hi’ they’d say, ‘Keep on steppin’. Granddad got to grippin’ that lunch bag a little tighter.”

The flash into Fury’s personal life surprised Steve somewhat. He cocked his head to one side and looked at the man. “Did he ever get mugged?”

“Every week some punk would say, “What’s in the bag?”

“What did he do?”

“He’d show ‘em. Bunch of crumpled ones and loaded point twenty-two Magnum.” Fury smirked “Granddad loved people. But he didn’t trust them very much.”

Steve had to smirk slightly, thinking that Fury sounded a hell of a lot like his grandpa. He looked down for a second, and when he looked up he was aware that they had now travelled down the side of the Triskellion and were descending further, underground even. As Steve looked around he realised he was in some sort of below building hangar, and he looked out of the glass, spotting three giant Helicarriers. His mouth fell open in surprise, his brow furrowing.

“Yeah, I know. They’re a little bit bigger than a point twenty-two.” Fury remarked.

Eventually the elevator stopped and Fury stepped out, Steve hot on his tail as he watched people bustling around the hangar shouting, carrying things, fixing things. The helicarriers were bigger than the one they’d used during the Chitauri invasion, each being able to house at least twenty Quinjets.

“This is Project Insight.” Fury explained as he led Steve across the floor of the hangar. “Three next generation Helicarriers synced to a network of targeting satellites.”

And then Steve understood. “Launched from the Lemurian Star.”

“Once we get them in the air they never need to come down. Continuous suborbital flight courtesy of our new repulsor engines.” Fury stopped underneath one.

“Stark?” Steve asked, frowning.

“Well, he had a few suggestions once he got an up close look at our old turbines.” Fury nodded, as they continued. “But don’t worry, that’s not something Nova is keeping from you.”

“I wasn’t” Steve said honestly, as he looked up and around the hangar. “I trust my girl.”

Fury looked at him before he turned his attention back to the matter in hand and pointed up again “These new long range precision guns can eliminate a thousand hostiles a minute. The satellites can read a terrorist’s DNA before he steps outside his spidy hole. We gonna neutralize a lot of threats before they even happen.”

Steve crossed his arms. “I thought the punishment usually came after the crime.”

“We can’t afford to wait that long.”

Steve could feel the nerve twitching in his jaw. “Who’s ‘we’?”

“After New York, I convinced the World Security Council we needed a quantum surge in threat analysis. For once we’re way ahead of the curve”

“By holding a gun at everyone on Earth and calling it protection?” Steve looked at the director, frowning. He didn’t like this. It smacked of something HYDRA would do.

Fury picked up on his tone and he looked at Steve, arching an eyebrow. “You know, I read those SSR files. Greatest generation? You guys did some nasty stuff.”

Don’t I know it? Steve thought to himself as he took a deep breath. “Yeah, we compromised. Sometimes in ways that made us not sleep so well. But we did it so the people could be free.” He turned and pointed at the helicarriers before looking at Fury “This isn’t freedom, this is fear.”

“SHIELD takes the world as it is, not as we’d like it to be.” Fury stated simply. “It’s getting damn near past time for you to get with that program, Cap”

Steve shook his head. “Don’t hold your breath.” And with that he left.

He changed quickly, eager to put as much distance between him and SHIELD as possible for the rest of the day. After a short conversation with Rumlow about a mission report, he was on his bike and heading for Katie’s apartment, his mind whirling. What was Fury playing at? This wasn’t what he signed up for, at all. It felt so far removed from what he had joined the army to do, to keep people safe, free. Had he really changed that much? He felt a sudden pang for his Howling Commandoes, for Bucky, for Peggy, for Colonel Philips, for all those damned missions which had been simple- destroy HYDRA before they destroyed you.

Despite the fact he had woken up that morning and felt so happy with his girl being there, he couldn’t help but wish life was as simple as it had been back then.

*****

Katie’s morning had been far more productive. She had looked at a couple of transcript extracts her editor had selected. She had to admit, the guy had a good eye for a future blockbuster, and this one she particularly liked. After discussions, they settled on an initial run of two hundred hard copy of the books to be sold online, along with a downloadable kindle version, and if they went they would review how many more we needed.

Pleased with her mornings work and having cleared her diary for the afternoon, she had lunch in the kitchen and had just finished when she heard the elevator door open. She headed into the main area of her apartment to greet Steve, taking a deep breath as she noticed how drained he looked.

“Dare I ask how it went?”

His response was a sigh as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in for a hug, simply wanting to feel her close.

“That good huh?” She squeezed him back gently before she pulled away and headed towards the kitchen, him following behind her.

“Debrief was fine. Fury, however, went on about compartmentalisation, the usual crap.” Steve sighed, running his hand over his face, smiling softly to himself when he saw she was gathering stuff out of the fridge to make him a sandwich “And then shared something I really wish he hadn’t.”

“Like what?” she asked, throwing some turkey and mayo onto a sub. “Ever heard of Operation Insight?” Steve looked at her, even though he knew the answer. There’s no way she would have and not told him.

“No?” She handed him the plate containing his sandwich.

“Well apparently your brother has. Thanks.” He took the plate from her sat at the breakfast bar taking a bite of his food. He swallowed and then continued “Three huge hellicarriers that are basically designed to go up in the air and never come down based on Tony’s arc reactor tech. Programmed to monitor potential threats and wipe them out before they get chance to do anything.” She frowned, settling on the stool next to him. “And Fury has sanctioned this?”

Steve nodded, taking another bite of his food. “I don’t like it. Like I said to him, punishment normally comes after the crime.”

Katie could see he was really struggling with this and that his faith in SHIELD was running very, very thin. A lot of what the Agency did was political, not just about keeping people safe. She’d tried to explain that the lines were a lot more blurred than back in the 40s, but still had to admit she was kind of with him. As she pondered for a moment, Steve could see the cogs whirring in her brain, the slight v shape crease that always formed in the middle of her eyes when she was thinking was present. Steve didn’t blame her, it had thrown him too and he’d had the full explanation. The hangar had been huge, and there were enough people in there to make him realise that a LOT of people knew about it. What he didn’t know was who on his immediate team knew about it.

“I just wanna know who I can trust” He sighed, looking at Katie as she reached out gently, touching his cheek.

“I know, Soldier.” she said, softly before she shook her head. “Okay, no more talk about SHIELD or hellicarriers, or whatever.” She moved to pick up her soda. “What do you want to for the rest of the afternoon?”

Steve wanted to go to the Smithsonian. He’d been thinking about it since they had emailed him to invite him to open the exhibit on him, which he had politely declined. But he was curious to see what it was like, curious and also eager, after today, to be reminded of a time when he worked with people he knew inside out, people that he would trust with his life. And he was keen to share that with his girl, the woman who had months ago before they even started dating, been the one to help him pick what the museum would display.

“You know, we’ve still not been to the Smithsonian since they opened the exhibit.” He shruged, hoping his tone was casual enough to make it sound like he hadn’t been thinking about it enough. He failed though, smiling as Katie looked at him, arching an eyebrow.

Busted.

“Call it curiosity.” He shrugged.

“You know what curiosity did don’t you?” Katie quipped back, her eyes flashing playfully.

“What?”

She grinned as she delivered the punchline “Killed the Cap.”

*****

“A symbol to the nation. A hero to the world. The story of Captain America is one of honour, bravery and sacrifice,” the narrator at the Smithsonian museum said as we entered the exhibit.

Steve paused to pull the collar of his blue jacket up a little further, a gesture that, along with the cap that was pulled down over his face, he hoped would prevent him from being recognised as they made their way to the start of the pieces.

"Denied enlistment due to poor health, Steven Rogers was chosen for a program unique in the annals of American warfare. One that would transform him into the world’s first super soldier,” the Narrator continued. Steve paused to look at the display to his right when Katie gently nudged him.

“Think you’ve been rumbled.”

Steve looked down at her, and then followed her gaze as she looked to her left at a small boy dressed in a light blue T-shirt adorned with the design of his shield who was watching the pair of them, his eyes growing wide. Steve smiled, put a finger against his mouth to indicate for him to keep quiet. The boy nodded and then turned, running back off to find his mum.

Without speaking Steve took her hand and led her over to the part of the exhibit that had an older looking motorcycle on a platform and some black and white footage playing beside it. The footage was of him in his older Captain America uniform, also currently on display, running through a battlefield.

“In this rare footage, everyone’s favourite war hero, Captain America…”

He didn’t stop to hear the rest, he could remember that mission by heart. It had been on the outskirts of Toulouse, liberating another HYDRA prison camp. Katie allowed herself to be led by him, this was his moment after all. They slowly walked to a display of mannequins dressed in his original suit, plus those of the Howling Commandos, which had been donated by their families. His eyes lingered on Bucky’s for a second and he took a deep breath.

“Battle tested, Captain America and his Howling Commandos quickly earned their stripes. Their mission, taking down HYDRA, the Nazi rogue science division,”

Katie looked at the uniforms, a smile on her face. She had only seen photos of Steve’s war suit, never seen it in person and it intrigued her. More so because this was something that her dad had made, something physical he had touched. She felt a tug on her hand again, and she looked up to see that she was being led to a section dedicated to Bucky. The familiar (albeit again, only from photos), handsome face of his best friend looked back at them as they wandered over to read what it said in more detail.

“Best friends since childhood, Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers were inseparable on both school yard and battlefield. Barnes is the only Howling Commando to give his life in service of his country…”

The narration didn’t cover half the text on the black, glass screen and in Katie’s opinion it wasn’t a particularly good tribute to a man who had lost his life in such tragic circumstances. She read the rest of the text as Steve’s eyes skated over it, reading, despite the fact he knew it all. He wished he could have saved him, he really did. He’d loved him to have been able to meet Katie. But then, he wouldn’t have anyway. As he would have most likely been dead now. Or what’s to say things may or may not have ended up differently. Would Buck have been on the Valkyrie with him?

He watched the black and white footage playing, where the two of them were talking and then laughing about something and he felt the sadness hit his chest again. And as if she sensed it too, Katie gripped his hand a little bit tighter and lay her head against his arm, her weight giving him something to anchor himself too, and he was grateful for it.

They carried on walking and then they found there was a small cinema area a bit further round the corner playing footage and interviews. Steve paused for a second and then looked at Katie, the question stayed silent. She nodded and together they walked in, taking a seat on one of the benches. There was a bit of introduction footage, and then a familiar face appeared on the screen.

Besides him Katie took a deep breath and whispered a single word “Dad…” and he automatically dropped a hand to her knee, where she placed hers on top of his as the two of them watched her father an animatedly talking to the camera.

“Rogers was different” Howard spoke, smiling, the caption on the screen telling him the footage had been filmed in 1953. “He was constantly striving to do the right thing, with no fear or care for how it would affect him. He, err, when we dropped him behind enemy lines we had no idea if we would see him again. I narrowly escaped myself, the machine guns nearly took our aircraft down but without thought to how he would get back, he told us to leave him behind. When they declared him missing in action the entire company was devastated but, lo and behold… well they can’t keep a good man down.” Howard paused and then looked down and back up at the camera “I can only hope that if I’m graced with Children, they grow up to be half as driven as he was to do the right thing…”

As Katie looked down at her feet, a stray tear fell down her cheek. Seeing her dad there like that was raw. She knew that Tony felt the loss of their parents far more than she did, she had only been seven after all when they had died and Tony had been her father, if you will, for far longer than her actual dad had. But still, seeing him in front of her so candidly, talking about his hopes for his future children, made something in her chest tighten and she couldn’t help but feel sadness at the fact she never got the chance to really know him. Steve gently squeezed her knee, but then as they looked back up at the screen it was his turn to still as someone he recognised extremely well, her face painted into his memory for life, entered the screen and began speaking, also in 1953.

"That was a difficult winter. A blizzard had trapped half our battalion behind the German line. Steve, Captain Rogers, he fought his way through a HYDRA blockade that had pinned our allies down for months.” Peggy Carter stumbled slightly through the interview. “He saved over a thousand men, including the man who would become my husband as it turned out. Even after he died, Steve was still changing my life,” And despite the fact that she smiles slightly at the end of this line, it’s clear to see that talking about Steve affected her a lot.

Katie leaned against him and with a breath he lay his head on top of hers. “We haven’t seen her for a while…” she whispered as the video finished. “Shall we go on the way home?” He gave a soft chuckle and dropped a kiss to the crown of her head.

“You read my mind.”

*******

Peggy was pleased to see them, as always when she was having a good day. They both greeted her and after a few pleasantries they told her about their trip to the Smithsonian. Peggy smiled, informing them that she remembered the interview, like it was yesterday, apparently the man interviewing her had been an “utter rogue”, but she didn’t elaborate on what that meant further than saying he was worse than Barnes, which made Steve laugh. They chatted a little about her time as Director at SHIELD before she trailed off with a sigh as she noticed that Steve was uncharacteristically quiet. After a little gentle coaxing from her and Katie he told her what was on his mind.

“My whole life I’ve just wanted to do what was right, I guess I’m not sure what that is anymore.” He paused for a moment, thinking of how to voice his worries about SHIELD “And I thought I could just throw myself back in and follow orders, it’s just not the same.”

Peggy chuckled as she rolled her eyes and looked at Katie. “He’s always so dramatic.”

Katie let out a small laugh, nodding her agreement. “Tell me about it!”

Steve shook his head, a smile on his face as he raised his eyebrows slightly and looked away as Peggy continued to speak.

“Look you saved the world, we rather mucked it up.”

“No you didn’t. You know, knowing that you helped found SHIELD is half the reason I stay.”

“And the other half being?” Her eyes strayed to Katie who smiled, looking down and then up at Steve as he caught her eye, his hand resting on her knee.

“I quit remember?” Katie reminded her.

Peggy smiled “Indeed, a woman with principles. That I can get on board with. ”Katie gave a little smile as Peggy continued. “Look, the world has changed and none of us can go back.” She spoke softly. “All we can do is our best, and sometimes the best that we can do is to start over.“

At that she started to cough. Steve quickly picked up a glass of water from the table and rounded the back of the chair Katie was sitting in to try and hand her the glass.

"Peg?” He held the glass out as her coughing subsided and she took a sip. Once she had finished she looked up and stared at Steve as if she was seeing a ghost

“Steve?” Peggy breathed out in an amazed yet broken voice.

“Yeah,” Steve whispered, his heart sinking as he recognised the look in her face. Her memory had gone, again.

“You’re alive! You, you came, you came back,” Peggy whimpered. Tears were gathering in her eyes at this point as she tried to hold them back and Steve was struggling to do the same with his own. One of the smartest, nicest, bravest women he had ever met was being betrayed by an illness that was literally rotting her brain. It was cruel, and every time she did this, they went through the same routine.

“Yeah, Peggy.” Steve responded forcing a smile onto his face as Katie squeezed his hand gently, standing up so he could take the chair next to Peggy.

“It’s been so long. So long,” Peggy started to cry, giving up on holding back her tears.

“I’ll leave you with her.” Katie spoke softly as she gently touched Steve’s shoulder. His hand briefly reached up to lay over hers before he leaned over to take Peggy’s.

“Well, I couldn’t leave you.” He forced himself to smile. “Not when you still owe me a dance.”

Normally that calmed the old lady down, but not today. She was becoming more and more confused and in the end he had to press the call button.

“Again?” The nurse who attended asked softly, and Steve simply nodded.

“I’ll fetch the doctor.”

Outside Katie took a deep breath and headed towards her car. Ex partners could always be an issue in relationships but this was something else, something completely different. She opened the passenger side to the car and sat side on in the seat, door open, legs dangling out. She felt sorry for Peggy, she really did, and her heart ached for Steve. It can’t be easy seeing the woman he once loved, and probably still did in some way, fading like that in front of your eyes.

She ran her hand over her face, rubbing at her eyes slightly and waited as she watched various people coming and going out of the main doors of the hospital. It wasn’t that long before a familiar figure appeared, a flash of white T-shirt standing out against his dark navy jacket and equally dark jeans as he walked towards her, hands in his pockets. She stood up, not saying a word as she wrapped her arms around him and he buried his face into the nook of her shoulder and neck, his safe place, his hands gently resting on her hips as he breathed out a sigh.

“Is she okay?” she asked gently. “Yeah they sedated her.” He said as he pulled away.

“I’m so sorry Steve.”

“What for?” “Peggy…it’s so unfair.” “Yeah…” He replied simply. And it was. He wished things could be different, that Peggy wasn’t ill. That she could be home, with her family, living out the last years of her life with the dignity she had lived the rest of it. She deserved more. He looked over the car roof across the street and watched for a second, everyone milling about their business, getting on with their lives. Like he was, and whilst he wished things had been different for Peggy, he suddenly found himself thinking and wondering if he would change anything if he could.

He felt Katie still in front of him, reacting to the fact he himself had changed posture, and as he looked down at her he was suddenly struck with the answer to his question. Despite everything, despite his sudden feelings of nostalgia sparked by the events of the last twenty hours or so, no he wouldn’t. Because whatever had happened, every action, every decision, it had led him to the girl now in his arms, and he loved her so fucking much it hurt. Yeah he had loved Peggy, he still did in some ways, but it was nothing compared to this. Nothing.

He reached out and took Katie’s hands, pulling up her arms so they were round his neck, pulling her closer to him as his own hands joined at the bottom of her back

“I love you.” He said gently, needing her to understand, to believe him. “My best girl.”

“I hope I’m your only girl, Rogers.” She sassed back with a sniff, and he smiled softly, happy that she understood.

“How about we head back to mine and not leave the flat for the entire day tomorrow?” Steve looked down at her, the idea suddenly coming to him and her face lit up. Katie loved lazy days. It was rare Steve was in the mood for them, his incessant energy normally meant he had to be doing something. But on the odd time he agreed, it usually involved them staying in bed till about midday, then watching old movies on the TV under a blanket on the couch, maybe a bit of fooling around and then calling a take out before retreating back to bed. Right now that sounded like a damned fine idea. “Can you clear your diary?”

“Consider it cleared.”

“I just wanna make one quick stop on the way home” He suggested, his journey of contemplation was leading him to one more place. He glanced at his watch before planting a kiss on her lips as she looked at him questioningly. “Thought we could pay our jogging friend a visit.”

********

“Look who it is. The running man and his pretty girl.” Sam joked slightly as he came over to the doorway where Katie and Steve were stood.

“Hey.” Katie smiled as he dropped a kiss onto her cheek.

“Caught the last few minutes. It’s pretty intense,” Steve commented as Sam shook his hand.

“Yeah, brother, we all got the same problems. Guilt, regret,” Sam shrugged. As his sentence went on his voice got more serious and softer.

“Have you lost someone?” Steve asked, perceptive as ever. Katie mentally cursed herself for not filling him in fully, but Sam didn’t seem too bothered to talk about it. He nodded gently.

“My wingman, Riley. Fly in the night mission. A standard PJ rescue op, nothing we hadn’t done a thousand times before, till an RPG knock Riley’s dumb ass out of the sky. Nothing I could do. It’s like I was up there just to watch,” Sam paused to cross his arms over his chest, his posture slightly tense. “After that, I had really hard time finding a reason for being over there, you know?”

“But you’re happy now, back in the world?” Steve asked

“Hey, the number of people giving me orders is down to about zero. So, hell, yeah,” Sam joked, loosening up slightly, before getting a bit serious, “You thinking about getting out?”

“No.” Steve replied quickly before he took a breath. “I don’t know. To be honest, I don’t know what I would do with myself if I did.”

“Ultimate fighting?” Sam shrugged and Steve laughed as Katie snorted. “It’s just a great idea off the top of my head. But seriously, you could do whatever you want to do. What makes you happy?”

Steve turned his head to look at Katie, an unconscious movement, smiling gently as he shrugged. “I dunno…”

“Oh I think you do.” Sam said, smirking slightly as Steve placed his hand on the small of his girl’s back.

“Oh, stop by the front desk on your way out,” Katie turned to Sam, smirking, and he raised an eyebrow in question,

“We asked for you by name.” Steve clarified.

“She seemed thoroughly impressed.” Katie finished. Both of Sam’s eyebrows rose at that and he looked down the hallway towards where the front desk was.

“You two are the best.” A smile stretching across his face as he began to turn to head down the hall. “Stop by anytime.”

“No problem.” Steve grinned in amusement as Sam jogged his way down the hall.

It was gone eight by the time they got home, having made a pit stop for a beer on the way. Steve held the door open for Katie, and she stepped into the apartment building and started to climb the stairs in front of him, giving him a quite pleasing view of her ass as her hips swayed side to side in front of him.

“Sam’s right you know.” She continued their discussion from the bar. “And so is Peggy.”

“What about?”

“If you wanted to get out you could do, start over.”

He took a deep breath. “I don’t know what I want, but spending the rest of my life playing janitor for Fury is not it.”

“I can write you a resignation note.” She grinned and Steve chuckled slightly and then took a deep breath.

“You know, it’s funny when I think about it. Us, stuff, what we’ve done and how far we’ve come in a year.”

“You’re saying it like it’s a bad thing.” She teased as she stepped onto his landing.

“No, that’s not what I mean at all.” He took a deep breath as she headed towards his door and turned to face him “You know, I’ve never really talked to anyone or shown them about my past in detail or introduced anyone to Peggy bar you.”

“Well I am your girlfriend.” She shrugged, holding onto the hand that wasn’t digging into his jeans pocket to fish out his keys. “Your best girl.” At that he smiled. “So you should be able to talk to me about anything.”

“I know, I’m not explaining myself very well.” He remarked, finally succeeding in obtaining his keys. And he wasn’t. He was trying to tell her that he couldn’t imagine his life without her, that he wanted her to share his everything, including his home.

“Spit it out Rogers.” She teased as he slid the key into the lock.

He took a deep breath. “Coming home last night and you being there…and then this morning…it was perfect, Doll, and I want that all the time.” He turned to face her leaving his key hanging from the door. “How would you feel about us maybe moving in together?”

She paused for a moment, looking at him, realising he was deadly serious. She raised her eyebrow.

“I thought you came from a time where man and woman didn’t live together until they were married?”

“We could get married if you want.” He blurted out. That made Katie raise both eyebrows as she studied him again, her mouth dropping into a small ‘o’. Steve looked back at her, trying to keep his face passive, as if it had been a joke, even though he knew it wasn’t. He’d known for months she was the one.

But to blurt it out like that? Outside his apartment door, in such a dumbass way?

Way to go, Rogers.

Katie cocked her head to one side, there was a funny look on Steve’s face that she couldn’t place. But whatever it was, even if Steve was serious about them getting married, she knew him well enough to understand that was not how he would want to propose, and that he was probably kicking himself about stumbling it out the way he had done. So she broke the nervous tension, as she always did, with a slight joke.

“You know, that’s not much of a proposal.” She slid her arms up around his neck. “But its one step up from you’d make a great housewife, I suppose.”

“Should I try again?” A cheeky grin spread across his face, glad the tone was playful, his arms circling her waist “Yeah, with a big, fuck off Tiffany diamond.”

“I didn’t think you were so materialistic?”

“Well, you know what they say? Diamonds are a girls’ best friend.”

“And there I was, thinking it was me.” He muttered, his lips pressing onto hers.

“That’s so sweet!” A voice interrupted and they both turned to look at Kate, his neighbour from over the hall. For a split second Steve thought she was talking to them but it soon became apparent she was on the phone. “That’s so nice…but hey, I gotta go…okay bye…”

She dropped the phone into the basket of laundry she was carrying before grinning at us both “My aunt, she’s kind of an insomniac”

Steve smile before looking at the basket of washing in her arms as he dropped his arm round Katie’s shoulder “you know if you want…if you want, you can use my machine. Might be easier and cheaper than the one in the basement.” “Thank you, but I already have a load in downstairs actually, and you really don’t want my scrubs in your machine.” She grinned. “I just finished a rotation on the infectious diseases ward, so,”

“Ah, well, we��ll keep our distance,” Steve grinned, holding his hands up, palms out.

“Hopefully not too far.” She chuckled. “Don’t want to lose my best neighbour. Okay, well I better be off.” She turned to go before she stopped and spun back round to look at Steve. “Oh, by the way, I think you left your stereo on.”

“Right, thank you.” Steve watched her go, frowning. He looked at Katie as they both pressed their ears to the door. The record player was certainly on but…

“We definitely didn’t leave that on before.” Katie looked at him, as the gentle tones of Kitty Kallen Long Long Time hit their ears.

Steve held his finger up to his lips and gestured to the window, before leaving Katie where he was. He ran off, down the stairs as fast as he could and then he scaled the gate on the fire escape easily. Once he reached the steps which were parallel to his window he took a running jump, easily pulling himself up over the sill and into the kitchen area. Quickly and quietly he moved along the wall, picking up his shield which was leaning against the shelving unit. Holding it up, he cautiously peered round the corner of the room into the living area and instantly relaxed when he saw Fury lounging in a chair.

“I don’t remember giving you a key.” He said, somewhat sardonically.

“What, you really think I’d need one?” Nick replied. Steve shook his head and headed to the front door of the flat, pulling it open.

“Fury.” He said with a roll of his eyes, turning and walking back into the apartment.

“Huh?” Katie asked as she followed him into the living room, where the music was coming from, to see Fury sitting on the couch in the dark.

“What are you doing here?” She demanded.

"Nice to see you too, Nova. And in answer to your question my wife kicked me out.”

“I didn’t know you were married,” She continued, frowning. And she didn’t. And she wasn’t sure that he was.

“There are a lot of things you don’t about me,” Fury replied casually.

“I know, Nick. That’s the problem,” Steve grumbled walking forward as Katie remained where she was, eyes narrowed at her old boss. Steve flipped on the light switch, instantly recoiling in surprise when he noticed Fury’s injuries. Besides him Katie gasped slightly and moved to get closer to help but Fury indicated for her to stop and the both of them to stay quiet. He turned off the light again and typed something on his phone.

'EARS EVERYWHERE’.

Bugs? His apartment was bugged? By who? They both exchanged a glance and instantly Katie looked up and around the room, as if she expected to see a microphone glaring at them.

“I’m sorry to have to do this but I had nowhere else to crash,” Fury looked around a bit before he typed something else up on his phone:

'SHIELD COMPROMISED’.

Steve and Katie shared another glance, the pair of them wide eyed. This was bad.

“Who else knows about your wife?” Steve asked, keeping his voice even.

Fury showed them another text;

'YOU TWO AND ME’.

“Just my friends,” Fury grunted in pain while getting up and walking closer to them.

“Is that what we are?” Katie blinked at him. She still hadn’t completely forgiven the man for lying to them all about Coulson.

“That’s up to you.” Fury replied, his eyes darting from Katie to Steve.

Then out of nowhere came a rapid succession of gunshots. Steve quickly pushed Katie out of the way, the pair of them taking cover behind the kitchen wall as Fury groaned before he collapsed down to the floor. Steve scooted forward, keeping as low as he could, pulling him into the kitchen. Katie knelt next to him and tried to check his injuries through his black clothing when he reached up and handed something to Steve.

“Don’t, trust anyone,” he coughed before passing out. Katie and Steve both looked at what he had been handed and saw that it was a flash drive. Steve curled his hand around it and looked at Katie, but before either of them could say anything else there was the sound of someone breaking into the apartment. Steve quickly moved into a defensive position, in front of Katie and Fury, raising his shield.

“Captain Rogers?” a familiar voice suddenly called out and they watched as Kate, his neighbour, cautiously walked in with a gun pointed. “I’m Agent Thirteen of SHIELD’s Special Service.”

“Kate?” Steve frowned, shaking his head. He’d just about had his fill of surprises.

“I’m assigned to protect you.” She continued

“On whose orders?” Katie snapped.

Kate stopped as she spotted Fury lying on the floor. “His,” she dropped besides Katie, checking Fury for a pulse and then spoke into her radio

“Foxtrot is down, he’s unresponsive. I need EMTs.”

“Do you have a twenty on the shooter?” A SHIELD agent questioned through the radio.

Then there was a movement on the other side of the window, on the roof adjacent to the building. Steve instantly glanced up and saw a flash of silver and the shadow of a figure running across the rooftop.

“Tell them I’m in pursuit.” He said and with that he took a running jump and smashed straight through his window, and through into the office building opposite. Steve ran, keeping his eye on the man, smashing through walls, windows, anything in his way. Eventually he caught up with him on the roof and flung his shield at the assassin who, to Steve’s shock, caught it with one swift move in the hand of his metal arm. There was a pause as Steve could do nothing but eye the man with surprise before the shield came flying back. Steve caught it, with both hands on its rim but the force pushed him back a few yards along the gravel surface of the roof. By the time he had stopped the momentum moving him, the assassin had jumped. Steve ran to the edge of the building and looked down.

He was gone.

*****

“What happened?” Hill asked as they all looked through the glass window at the hustle and bustle of the operating room. Steve moved his arm from around Katie and took her hand in his, squeezing her fingers gently.

"He was at my apartment when we got home.” Steve started. “I hadn’t even had chance to ask why when there were two blasts, then another. Someone shot him through the window- three times. I tried to go after the shooter, but I lost him on the roof of the building across the street.”

Steve had no doubt in his mind that if there was anyone else in SHIELD they could trust right now it was Hill, but both he and Katie kept quiet. He had taken Fury’s warning of trusting nobody seriously and had told Katie as much as they had strode through the ED of the hospital. Both were aware that Hill was studying them, side on, her face stony.

“What aren’t you telling me?” She asked quietly.

“Nothing.” Katie answered for them.

Before Hill could drill either of them anymore, the door to the observation room flung open and heavy footsteps crossed the room, stopping at the other side of Katie.

“Is he gonna make it?” Natasha asked, almost inaudibly, staring through the window.

“We don’t know,” Hill mumbled.

“Tell me about the shooter,” Natasha whispered

“He’s fast and strong. And he had a metal arm,” Steve said, letting go of Katie’s hand to fold his arms across his chest and as he did, they both caught the look of recognition and slight fear on Natasha’s face reflected in the window.

“Ballistics?” She swallowed heavily.

“Three slugs. No rifling and completely untraceable,” Maria answered softly.

“Soviet made?”

“Yeah,” Maria looked at Natasha in shock. Steve turned to face her, as did Katie, but she didn’t look back. She stared straight through to the operating theatre but before Katie could ask what it was that she wasn’t saying, the operation room went into overdrive. Machines started beeping erratically, the doctors and nurses were rushing around the room and the panic was palpable even behind the glass. But they couldn’t save him.

“Time of death, 1:03 A.M.”

A few moments passed as the four of them stood completely in shock. Katie reached up to wipe a tear that had trickled down her cheek away, before Natasha turned and almost sprinted out of the room.

Steve pulled his hand out of his pocket, turning the flash drive that Nick had given him over in his hand. Nick had been killed because he knew whatever it was that was on that drive. What could possibly be so bad, so secret, so dangerous that the Director of SHIELD was deemed a threat for knowing? He glanced up at Katie who was watching him, tears in her eyes. She might have had her issues with Fury, but he was a good man and would never have wished him dead. With a sigh Steve placed the item back into his pocket and pulled her in for a hug.

******

A little later, they were all in the same room as Nick’s body. Natasha was by him, hardly having moved a muscle, almost like she was in shock. And it unnerved Katie. Nat wasn’t one to really show emotion but then again, Fury had meant a lot to her. The door opened and a doctor entered, speaking to Hill. She nodded and then walked over to Katie and Steve, coughing to clear her throat.

“They need to take him.” She said, her voice cracking slightly. Steve nodded and stepped forwards.

“Nat. Natasha…” But at that she turned away from them all and made her way quickly into the corridor of the Hospital. Katie and Steve looked at one another, before they hastily followed her.

“Why was Fury in your apartment?” Natasha span around to ask Steve. Her eyes were filled with sadness, but Katie could also see suspicion etched on her pretty features.

“I don’t know,” Steve sighed shrugging his shoulders, and before the conversation could go on further they were interrupted by Rumlow.

“Cap, they want you back at Shield,” He informed them, gently touching Katie’s shoulder. “You too Nova.”

“Alright, give us a second,” Steve nodded dismissing Rumlow, perhaps a little more harshly than he intended, as he turned back to Natasha but Rumlow was insistent

“They want you now,”

“Alright” Katie spoke firmly but calmly. Rumlow nodded and then moved back down the hallway.

“You’re a terrible liar.” Natasha shook her head at Steve with her trademark smirk that didn’t reach her eyes before she turned and left.

“What the hell is on that drive?” Katie asked Steve after a moment of silence.

“I don’t know, but it’s what Natasha was saving data to on our mission the other day.” He replied before he looked up staring very focused into a vending machine to his right, which was open as a janitor filled it up. He didn’t want to take the drive back to the Triskellion, just in case. He knew that something wasn’t quite right.

Katie caught his eye before glancing around the hallway that was mostly full of SHIELD agents, luckily they were all congregated on the other end.

“Do it.” She nodded, figuring out his intention to hide the item “I’ll distract them.”

Without another look back at him, she began to stride forwards towards Rumlow.

“Its almost four am.” she glanced at her watch. “What do they want us for Brock? We already told Sitwell what we know and I don’t work for SHIELD anymore, remember?”

Rumlow shrugged “Honestly, I don’t know Nova. I’m just under instructions to get you both back to base.”

At that point Steve reached them, but he wasn’t stopping. Taking Katie’s hand he nodded to the STRIKE leader

“Let’s go.”

“Yeah,” Rumlow fell into step with them, fixing his earpiece. “Strike! Move it out.”

Steve drove to the Triskellion, Katie’s car flanked by the Armoured SUVs as they sped through the streets of DC. Katie dozed off for ten minutes and Steve let her sleep, lost in his own thoughts. He had expected her to be called in alongside him, especially after she had been, along with him, the last people Fury had spoken to him before he died. But he wasn’t happy about it, he wanted her as far away from whatever the hell was going on as possible. Once they arrived he gently shook her awake and the two of them were given an hour or so to grab something to eat. Neither were hungry, but they forced down their sandwiches, Katie’s brain working in overdrive as she did so. Something was nagging at her, and she was trying to make the connections, figure it out, but her head simply kept replaying Fury getting shot over and over.

“Foxtrot is down, he’s unresponsive. I need EMTs.”

“Do you have a twenty on the shooter?”

She frowned.

“What is?” Steve asked, coffee in his hand as he sat back on one of the large chairs in one of the common rooms by the kitchen area.

“Before…when Kate…Agent thirteen, whatever the hell her name is called back to base…she said Fury was down and needed EMTs…”

She paused and Steve waited, knowing how her analytical brain worked. She had to follow threads, talk them over or write them out, letting them weave together as she did. A look of comprehension crossed her face as the threads connected.

“Sitwell…” She whispered.

“What about him?” Steve asked. “He was the one that replied, at least it sounded like him.” She bit her lip, but not in the seductive way that made his crotch twitch, the way she did when she was thinking “And he asked…do you have a twenty on the shooter.”

Steve frowned, not quite sure where this was going. “Okay…” “Well, how did he know Fury had been shot? How could anyone know he had been shot?”

Now he understood. He understood completely. Damned it she was clever. “They couldn’t.” He sat up and leaned towards her, his voice dropping. “Not unless they were there or Kate…whoever, told them.”

“And she didn’t. She just said he was down and unresponsive.” “Which means…” Steve began, but Katie finished for him. “Sitwell knew about the hit. Because he was in on it.”

The both looked at one another, their faces wearing similar looks of shock. Fury was right, SHIELD was compromised. But how far, they had no idea.

Before Steve had chance to say anything else, the door opened and Rumlow stepped in

“Secretary Pierce is ready now guys.” “Thanks.” Katie nodded, shooting Steve another glance as they both stood up.

“Not a word.” He mumbled as they got into the elevator “We say nothing, not until we figure out who we can trust.”

“If we can trust anyone.” She mumbled back.

*****

“Captain, why was Nick in your apartment last night?” Secretary Pierce looked at Steve as he sat on the couch next to Katie in the large office.

“I don’t know.” He answered in a soft voice.

“Did you know it was bugged?” Pierce pressed on.

“We did.” Katie nodded meeting the secretary’s eye. “Because Nick told us.”

“Did he tell you he was the one who bugged it?”

Steve took a breath and glanced at Katie, his expression stony but the two of them shared the understanding.

No, no he had not.

“I want you to see something.” Pierce continued, and gestured to a monitor just behind the couches we were sitting on. On the screen was a man tied down to a chair, he looked to be currently being interrogated. Katie didn’t recognise the man, but Steve did. It was Batroc, the lead merc from the hijacking of the Lemurian Star.

“Is that live?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, they picked him up last night in a not so safe house in Algiers.”

“Are you saying he’s a suspect?” Steve didn’t take his eyes off the screen “Assassination isn’t Batroc’s line.”

“It’s more complicated than that. Batroc was hired anonymously to hijack the Lemurian Star. He was contacted by email and paid by wire transfer, and then the money was run through seventeen fictitious accounts. The last going to a holding company that was registered to a Jacob Veech.” Pierce said handing Steve a folder.

“Am I supposed to know who that is?” Steve skimmed through the file offered to him in curiosity and confusion.

“Not likely. Veech died six years ago. His last address was 1435 Elmhurst Drive. When I first met Nick, his mother lived at 1437.”

“Wait,” Katie frowned as she gathered what Pierce was suggesting. “Are you saying Fury hired the pirates? Why?”

“The prevailing theory?” Pierce shrugged. “The hijacking was a cover for the acquisition and sale of classified intelligence. The sale went sour and that led to Nick’s death.”

“If you really knew Nick Fury you’d know that’s not true.” Steve replied strongly, and he believed it. Fury was a lot of things, but a traitor he was not.

Pierce nodded in agreement. “Why do you think we’re here talking?” He then got to his feet and began to walk towards the window. “See, I took a seat on the council not because I wanted to, but because Nick asked me to because we were both realists. We knew that despite all the diplomacy, and the hand shaking and the rhetoric, to build a really better world sometimes means having to tear the old one down. And that makes enemies.”

Steve didn’t like the way this was going. He looked at Katie and gestured for her to stand as he did. Pierce turned back around and looked at them both.

“Those people that call you dirty because you’ve got the guts to stick your hands in the mud and try to build something better. And the idea that those people could be happy today,” Pierce shoved his hands in his pockets. “Makes me really, really angry. Captain, you and Miss Stark were the last ones to see Nick Fury alive. I don’t think that’s an accident.” Pierce said matter-of-factly. “And I don’t think you do, either. So, I’m going to ask again was he there?”

“He told us not to trust anyone.” Steve said honestly.

Pierce made a humming sound. “I wonder, if that included him.”

There was a tense moment of silence before Steve spoke again. “I’m sorry. Those were his last words. Excuse us,” He turned to leave, picking up his shield that he sent down upon our arrival and attaching it to the harness on his back, before ushering Katie out of the room slightly ahead of him.

“Captain,” Pierce’s voice halted him mid step and he turned to look at him. “Someone murdered my friend. I’m going to find out why. Anyone who gets in my way is going to regret it.” Pierce’s voice rang out again, a pointed look in their direction.

Steve wasn’t a stupid man, and he knew that was a veiled threat. He took a deep breath, considering his response, before he decided appearing un-rattled was the best option.

“Understood.” He nodded, holding the door open for Katie to step through keeping himself between her and Pierce as he followed, anchoring his hand on her back to keep her moving.

“You should have lied.” She whispered.

“Huh?” “Back then, said we didn’t know why Fury was there. By telling him that he told us not to trust anyone he knows we know and that we’re hiding something.” Her tone was a little panicked and Steve simply took a deep breath.

“We need to get to the hospital and get that stick.” He looked at her, remaining adamant that whatever it was that was on there would hold the answers. He looked up and down the corridor before they stepped into the elevator.

“Operations Control” Steve spoke as the elevator scanned his face and Katie’s Guest ID.

“Confirmed”

Just as the doors were about to close, Rumlow stepped in with two other STRIKE agents.

“Keep all STRIKE personnel on site” He was saying. Both the agents nodded and voiced their acknowledgement of his order. “Forensics.”

“Confirmed.”

“Cap, Nova…” Rumlow nodded to them both.

“Rumlow.” Steve acknowledged him as the doors closed and they started to descend.

“Evidence Response found some fibres on the roof they want us to see.” Rumlow turned his head to look at Steve. “You want me to get the tac-team ready?”

“No, let’s wait and see what it is first.”

“Right.” Rumlow turned back and Steve looked out of the side of the elevator, pondering what his next move was. Chase down the man responsible? The drive? The elevator stopped at the next floor and Rollins plus a few more SHIELD and Strike agents entered, Steve moving over slightly to allow them in.

“What’s the status so far?” Rollins was saying.

“Administrations level” another one asked, before they continued whatever it was they were talking about, moving round to find a space behind Steve and Katie.

He noticed Katie look round, a frown on her face, but before he could say anything Rumlow spoke, looking over his shoulder at Steve.

“I’m sorry about what happened with Fury. Messed up, what happened to him”

“Thank you.” Steve nodded.

Katie could sense something was off. Years of training as an Agent didn’t just leave you when you quit, and those years of training had taught her very well to read body language. Rumlow was alert, too alert, and it was more than just a nervousness because Fury had been killed. There was an atmosphere in the lift, and she glanced at one of the agents that had joined them at the last floor. He was still talking, normally, but he there was a bead of sweat dripping down his cheek from his temple.

Steve could sense it too. He watched as Rumlow and Rollins exchanged a glance and looked down at Katie who was watching him, nervous expression on her face. He shook his head gently, instructing her to keep calm.

The elevator stopped and another agent entered.

“Records”

This one stood in front of them, facing the elevator doors and it was then with a slight air of exasperation at allowing it to happen, Steve realised they were surrounded. Whilst he wasn’t too concerned, he knew he could more than likely fight his way out, it was his girl he was bothered for. It had been months since she had been in active combat, and this was going to be brutal. Besides him Katie stiffened, feeling very underprepared for what was about to go down. She had no weapons, nothing. Instinctively Steve gripped her hand and pulled her forward so she was stood next to him instead of behind and moved his feet apart slightly, hands on the buckle of his belt, adopting his Captain stance, preparing for what was coming.

“Before we get started,” he sighed, looking down before he stared straight ahead, “does anyone want to get out?”

His eyes flicked to the back of Rumlow’s head. There was a moment’s pause before all hell broke loose. They both put up a good fight, ducking, diving, punching. Steve was then shocked with a baton, but he simply grit his teeth, absorbing the electricity into his body. It hurt, but it wasn’t unbearable. And then, three of them managed to snap one of his arms to the wall of the elevator using some kind of metallic clamp, before five of them piled on him at once, attempting to pin his other arm in too. He kicked out, taking down as many as he could.

Just as Katie had floored the second of the agents who had launched at her, she was grabbed from behind by her hair and hauled to the edge of the elevator, being wrestled roughly to the floor by Rumlow who was instantly on top of her, trying to get her wrists from where she had positioned them underneath her body in an attempt to stop them restraining her.

"Brock…” She spoke gently, looking at him as she swallowed. “What’s going on?” “I’m sorry Stark.” He shook his head. “Just following orders.”

“Yeah well follow this.” She snarled, the anger brewing in her as she jerked her head forwards as hard as she could, feeling it connect with his nose. He yelled, and then her head snapped painfully to the right as he back handed her straight across the face. She felt her lip split and the warm, metallic taste of blood hit her taste buds, stars flashing in front of her eyes as her ears began to ring from the harsh knock.

Steve saw Rumlow land the blow to Katie’s face and let out a growl of anger and aimed another kick at the final agent standing, causing them man to collide with the side of the elevator before slumping down. He turned, pulled on his arm as hard as he could, wrenching the cuff off the side of the elevator and looked up in time to see Katie, who was now pinned against the wall by another set of those damned cuffs, take a blow to the ribs from Rumlow causing her to cry out in pain.

“Rumlow!” Steve yelled causing the man to whip his head round, surprise on his face. Katie, using her arms as leverage, swung her legs upwards, kicking Rumlow with both feet. The STRIKE leader stumbled slightly as Steve snarled at him, his entire body and face alight with rage “Touch my girl again and I’ll fucking kill you.”

Rumlow got to his feet, holding one of his arms out, electric rod in his hand “Whoa, big guy. I just want you both to know, this ain’t personal.”

He then lunged at Steve with his electric rod but one on one Steve was easily able to defend himself, he moved to the right, dodged and grabbed Rumlow, throwing him harshly upwards where he crashed into the ceiling of the elevator, before falling to the floor, unconscious.

“Yeah well, it kind of feels personal” Steve said, his breath slightly ragged from the exertion. He used his foot to flip his shield over like a Frisbee, catching it perfectly.

“You alright?” Steve asked, stepping over the bodies that littered the floor of the elevator to get to Katie.

“Yeah.” She assured him. Steve cut the cuffs that were restraining her into two pieces with his shield and she bent over, his hands gently on her back as she rubbed at her side before straightening up and stalking over to where Rumlow was beginning to stir slightly. She kicked him hard in the face, causing him to flip backwards and he was out, unconscious.

“Nothing personal.” She spat, then looked up at Steve. There was a moment during which they both looked around, trying to make sense of what had happened, before the elevator doors opened and Steve pulled Katie sharply behind him. They both stared at a team of STRIKE agents pointing their weapons into the elevator. Steve raised his shield.

“Drop the shield! Put your hands in the air!”

Steve looked round, and spotted the elevator wires to the left of Katie’s head

“DUCK!” he yelled at her, and as she did, he swiped with his shield over her head sending them plummeting. Eventually the emergency brake systems kicked in and the elevator stopped, slightly misaligned with the doors by a few feet. As Katie bent down to retrieve a gun and some ammo off one of the Agents, Steve forced the door open, intending to climb out but more STRIKE agents were approaching. He closed the door again and looked at Katie, then around the glass walls, looking down below us at the glass roof of the main Triskelion atrium.

It was a long way but they could make it.

“You’re fucking kidding, right?” Katie exclaimed, realising exactly what he was thinking.

“Give it up, Rogers! Get that door open! You have nowhere to go!” came the yell from the floor outside the elevator door.

“Do you trust me?” Steve asked, both his hands cupping Katie’s face.

“Of course I do, but…”

“Then hang on…”

She sighed and jumped onto his back, swinging her legs round his waist and her arms round his neck. Steve raised his shield in front of him, before he propelled them forward and broke through the glass in the elevator, spreading his arms out wide as he fell to prevent them from tumbling through the air before tucking his body as tightly in to his shield as he could. Katie did the same, burying her head into his back as they crashed through the glass ceiling and hit the floor with a loud clang, to screams and shouts from people all around the atrium.

Katie gave a soft groan, rolling off Steve who moaned and stretched out, having been winded from the impact. But Steve knew they had to keep moving. With a monumental effort, he pushed himself up onto his knees, took a deep breath and offered his hand to Katie to help her stand. They both took a quick glance around before he started to run, pulling her with him. She stumbled slightly, but Steve kept hold of her, not letting her fall until her legs seemed to be working again.

And then they ran.

**** Chapter 15

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #Katie Stark #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #mcu #mcu fanfic #captain america #chris evans #chris evans characters

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chews-erotically · 4 years

Photo

Waxing Gibbous

Pairing: Ezra + femNurse! Reader

Rating: Hard M / 18+ ONLY

* Warnings: Angst/ violence/ mention of blood/ SMUT/ PIV, fingering/ public sex/ slight exhibitionism

* Summary: Ezra confronts his fears. A night out on Central does not go as planned.

* Word Count: ~2600

*Part ONE* *Part TWO* *Part THREE* *Part FOUR* *Part FIVE* *Part SIX* *Part SEVEN* *Part EIGHT* *Part NINE* *Part TEN*

PART ELEVEN

You learned quickly that when Ezra told you he was going to try, he tried. The very next day, he asked you to take him down to the lobby. You’d attempted to protest, but a facet of his personality you were getting more acquainted with over time was the man’s stubbornness.

“Mama always told me I was more stubborn than a mule stuck in a mud puddle,” he’d rambled to you once.

On this day, he said, “You know there’s no other way for me to do this except to get it done, Dove.”

You moved to stand in front of him. You crossed your arms, head tilted to one side as you surveyed him before you. He looked determined, jaw working rhythmically. His hands hung loosely at his sides, but you noticed how he was clenching and unclenching his fists restlessly.

“Ezra“, I don’t expect you to just waltz out of the apartment and seize the city like a lump of aurelac,” you reasoned. “I want to do this on your terms, and I don’t want you to feel in any way pressured. I feel like you think I’m expecting you to do this.”

“Dove, you know that as decisive as I may be, one thing I am not is easily swayed or pressured. Trust that I feel no such thing from you, as it is my choice alone to foray out of this nest.”

So, you had accompanied him cautiously onto the elevator, carefully watching and gauging his reactions to being confined within the claustrophobic reaches of the metal box you found yourselves encased in, ferrying you downward. Ezra’s tongue darted out to wet his lip nervously, you noticed his foot tapping against the carpet. You wondered if he noticed he was doing it.

When the elevator reached its destination with a faint ping, you steeled yourself. You were ready for his impending meltdown, his shaking uncertainty, possibly his refusal to walk any further. Your eyes widened as you watched him stride determinedly out into the lobby. You trailed close behind, ready to reel him back in if he became overwhelmed. You thought that he’d pause a moment, reacquaint himself with the lobby itself before venturing further, but he strode bullishly toward where Brice was standing near the front doorway.

“If you’ll excuse me, my good man,” Ezra muttered through the grim set of his mouth. He did not pause, he did not hesitate. He gave Brice no opportunity to hold the door open for him. He grasped the handle himself and thrust himself out onto a bustling street.

You were right behind him, your brows drawn with concern. You reached out to grasp his hand.

“Ezra?”

His shoulders squared, he turned to face you. He was breathing heavily, his eyes moving in disjointed stutters as if he was trying to download and process everything at once to a file in his brain.

“Ezra, take a deep breath.”

His eyes finally settled on you, dark pools of intensity. He did as you asked. His shoulders dropped to their natural position. Your other hand joined your first, clasping his large hands in yours. People continued past you on their way to their lovers and jobs and homes and they parted like a sea around the both of you as his gaze held you, hypnotic and deep. His hands pulled from your grasp and he crushed himself to you, his mouth finding yours in a dizzying kiss. Breathless, desperate, the rest of the world disappeared.

“I did it, sweet love,” he whispered against your mouth. You did not heed the noise and push of the city thrumming around you, the entire street ceased and froze as if the universe was swallowing its own stars and they reappeared, rebirthed and glittering, in the encompassing weight of Ezra’s eyes upon you.

“All manner of things in this world are limitless and surmountable, survivable, when I have you by my side.”

******

One week later you found yourself in a dive bar that ended up being approximately twenty minutes from your loft. You had worked incrementally each day, walking with Ezra as he ventured further and then a bit further. You saw his confidence begin to return. You had sat one morning at a small table on the sidewalk of a cafe, reading Keats to one another as you sipped cappuccino. Ezra made sly remarks about the goings-on of passing strangers, weaving threads of supposition according to what he thought of what they wore, how quickly they were walking, who they were with. His eyes were lively. He reminded you of the person he’d been at his table in his tent on the Green: head thrown back, joyous.

You were finally knowing him like this.

And so, you sat in the crowded bar, smelling the cologne and sweat and smoke enveloping you and those around you. You had felt nervous entering, a sudden impulse to look for the nearest exit slammed into you. A patron sidled past you, bumping your shoulder. You jumped, your heart hammering. You tried desperately to quell what seemed to be an oncoming panic attack- there were too many people, it was so, so loud and anyone could just reach out and grab you, slam you into-

“Dovie.”

Your frenzied reverie was interrupted by Ezra’s warm hand on the small of your back as he guided you to a table in a corner. His breath tickled the hair that curled around your ear as he spoke close and low.

“Sit here, see? Your back will be against the wall. You can see everyone this way. You are safe with me, sweet one.”

With his voice close, grounding you, you took deep unsteady breaths until you felt your heart rate begin to slow. You reassured him as the bartender approached you. You decided that alcohol may not be a bad idea, for either of you, in helping you relax. You ordered a gin and tonic with lime, Ezra requested an extra dirty vodka martini. While you waited for your drinks you took in the humid press of bodies gyrating on a makeshift dance floor, you absorbed the loose, languid movements of the inebriated patrons before you. Could you do such a thing, would you ever be capable of such abandon again in a place like this?

Your drinks were set in front of you. Ezra reached for his and took a long sip, his eyes closing with a soft groan.

“I cannot begin to tell you how long it’s been since I’ve imbibed such high-brow spirits in what amounts to a dusty hovel.”

You sipped your own drink, the burn sliding down your throat blooming into warmth when it hit your belly. Your brain quickly began to feel fuzzy, your limbs loose and warm. It had been stands since you’d had anything stronger than wine. You set your glass down and turned to see Ezra staring at you, his own cheeks pinking from the effects of his drink. He leaned his head to the side, one hand reaching for your bare knee, at the same time the sudden crack of a pool cue across the room made you jump, an arm shooting out in unconscious self-defense as your hand connected with your glass. Ezra’s own hand reflexively moved to catch the glass before it could topple and shatter, but not before the contents sloshed over the edge to soak down the front of your new dress.

“Kevva-damned. Shit….This is the first time I’ve even worn this!”

Ezra was unperturbed, smiling gently as he squeezed your knee.

“I’m sure it will come out in the wash, love, I’ll leave you only briefly to procure you proper cleaning implements. Do not trouble yourself.”

You sighed, nodding gratefully. You watched as Ezra stood up and made his way to the bar. It was crowded indeed tonight, and you noted that there were quite a few people in line ahead of him. You sighed again, looking down at your front. You wrinkled your nose; you smelled like a distillery.

Klutz.

Lost in your thoughts, it took you a moment in your blunted state to notice that another drink was slid in front of you as the chair beside you scraped back from the table. A man sat down next to you, grinning crookedly. He leaned forward before speaking.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in here before. Sorry about the drink, I thought maybe you could use a replacement.”

His hair was flame-colored, unnaturally so. His nose, eyebrows and ears were heavily pierced, and his arms were covered in tattoos. In another lifetime, perhaps, you may have welcomed his advances. Tonight, however, you glanced around frantically for Ezra. You felt suddenly exposed, like a lame rabbit trapped in a dog pen.

“I…..I’m not alone, you know. I’m here with someone. So, no thank you. On the drink.”

The man’s brows shot up in surprise. “Oh! I didn’t mean….sorry. I saw you spill your drink, and then I saw your friend get up...I was getting my own drink, I figured you could use another one as well.”

You swallowed down your panic, your hand twitching in your lap.

If only I had a thrower.

“You were watching me?”

“Relax. I was just trying to be nice!”

“What did you put in this drink, anyway? Sedative? Some kind of amatory agent?”

“I don’t know what you-”

The man choked on the rest of his words as he was yanked out of the chair roughly by the back of his shirt. He was slammed up against the wall, Ezra’s fingers wrapped around the man’s throat.

“I do believe the lady would like to be left alone,” he hissed darkly, jaw clenched. His head was lowered, eyes blackened pools of rage. His voice wavered on a razor-thin edge of control. The interloping man’s eyes were wide, it appeared that he was gasping for breath as Ezra’s knuckles turned white. You noticed the knife in Ezra’s hand. You had the far away realization that he must have been keeping it in his boot, the same way he had on the Green.

He had carried it all this time.

Ezra brought the tip of his knife to a slot of pulsing skin between his fingertips. The blade pressed in, a bead of blood pricking forth as the man gasped. A dark spot spread on the front of the man’s pants.

“Do you know how quickly a man bleeds out if cut in just the right way? I do, I know from experience. Do you also know how to make things last, how to prolong one’s mortal agony until they plead for the sweet embrace of oblivion? I know that too.”

You were monsters, you realized with a sudden, shocking clarity. You were not fit for civilization. Ezra was a hair's-breadth from murdering a stranger in a public place while you watched impassively. This is who you have become. This is what the moon had done to you.

Without thinking, you jumped up from the table. Your hand grasped Ezra’s shoulder.

“EZRA.” your voice was clear, sobered, authoritative. “Stop. Come back.”

Ezra almost shook his head as he looked at his hand, holding the knife as if it belonged to someone else. He let the man go, and the man slid down the wall to crumple onto the ground.

You realized it was silent- everyone in the bar was staring.

You grabbed onto his hand in a vise-like grip and moved to the door.

“We’re leaving. NOW.”

There was a sea of shocked silence that parted around you. You did not hesitate, you did not stop to take in the widened eyes, the slack jaws. You walked until you were both out in the cool air of the warm night.

You kept your eyes forward with a tight grip on Ezra’s hand.

Get away, you repeated in your mind like a mantra. Get away, get away, get away…

You squeaked out a wordless exclamation when Ezra halted, pulling you backward into a narrow side alley. He spun you to face the cool brick wall, caging you with his hands and hips. He pressed up against you insistently, panting as if he’d been sprinting.

“Ez-” your words were cut off as his lips crushed onto yours, rough and messy. His hands grasped at the hem of your dress, raking it up around your waist. He ripped your underwear down past the curve of your ass with trembling fingers. You gasped when his fingers entered you, rough and sudden.

“Ezra, we’re in an alley, someone could walk byyyy…” your last words dissolved in a whine as he angled his fingers, expertly curled, and hit that spot inside- the place he knew you needed him most.

Hot plosives of air against your ear, you felt fully enveloped by Ezra and completely exposed to everything else. He withdrew his fingers suddenly and frantically went to unfasten his pants.

“I need you,” he rasped, his voice desperate and shuddering. “I need to come back to myself. Remind myself. Please. I need to know you are mine. Show me.”

You felt the blunt head of him notched at your entrance. Grasping his cock in his fist, he spread your leaking arousal to mix with the precum dripping from his own slit before sliding into you with a single thrust. His hips met yours as you brought your fist to your mouth, biting down to keep from screaming. Ezra withdrew almost completely, still trembling, and slammed back into you. Your breasts were mashed against the rough wall, you had to use both hands to brace yourself against the onslaught of his thrusts. One of his hands went up to your mouth and covered it firmly; his other hand reached between your legs to circle your clit roughly.

He fucked up into you with abandon, without regard for his surroundings and despite the possibility of being caught. He kept his voice low, gasping and whining as his punishing rhythm had you quickly hurtling toward your own release.

“Mine….mine,” he groaned into your ear, slapping sounds from your desperate union echoing in the air of the alleyway. “Going to fuck you like this in every corner of Central, on every surface. Claim this pussy over and over again. Take you apart.”

His words against your sweat-slicked skin, his hot breath, his fingers on your clit, his brutal thrusts all melded into the sin of him taking your like this, claiming you in the open. You release slammed into you, unexpected, overwhelming. You bit the inside of his hand, breaths harsh, ragged, keening. You sobbed wordlessly against him as he stilled, spilling into you as he cried out. The intensity and strength of his orgasm had rendered him incapable of remaining quiet. Your legs shook, Ezra’s arms wrapping firmly around your waist to keep you from collapsing to the dirty concrete.

When your hammering heart had finally slowed and your breathing finally evened out, Ezra reverently helped you back to some semblance of presentability before you made your way back to your apartment, still shaky and somewhat lightheaded.

Once back in the safety of your shared home you sighed deeply before wrapping your arms around Ezra’s waist. You knew you both had quite a bit more to work through than you’d originally thought, but Kevva knew there was no one else for you. You gazed up at him with a small, sad smile.

“We can’t go back to that bar, Ezra.”

“I know, Dove.”

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