#you want to create yes? then create. stumble full speed towards the finish line and fall flat on your face at the end.

[syn4k]

the imperfect project you finished is worth infinitely more than the perfect one you didn't because it wasn't good enough for you while you were making it. just btw.

[kyber-crystal]

➳ catch me || s.r

summary: in which you struggle to tell the difference between liking him as a friend or something more. until one fateful moment forces you to decide where you ultimately stand.

words: ~3.9k

warnings: mentions of death, blood, overused friends to lovers, slight enemies to lovers LOL

a/n: i suffered through this WIP for like, 3 mf MONTHS before i was finally able to finish it off. i feel so relieved. but i will warn you, it’s terrible

"Rogers."

"Y/N."

You exchanged curt nods with him as you went to grab yourself some water after attending a meeting with Fury. Ever since Sharon started showing up more often, you began to distance yourself from him because you know that lingering by will only make you feel worse.He doesn't know why you're acting so cold all of a sudden, but decides not to question it as it won't help the situation in any way whatsoever.

He was quick to break the awkward silence that had fallen. "Where are you being sent off?"

"We," you replied coldly. "Northern Europe. Got word of an arms trade happening tomorrow morning."

"Okay."

Footsteps were suddenly heard from down the hall and without warning, he tugged you forward by the wrist and pressed his lips to yours.

You didn't protest because you're still too shocked to fully register what's going on and 2) you actually liked the way he made you feel. 

Though you really weren't supposed to be.

"What was that for?" you breathed out as you both pulled away, breathless.

"Sharon," he replied simply, looking around for a moment. "She's been bothering me for the past few weeks and I had to do something."

"You just noticed?" you said, sarcasm lacing your tone as you looked out of the corner of your eye to see the blonde woman walking away. "She's been all over you since her recruitment."

His brows furrow together in confusion as he notices the darkened look in your eyes, but doesn't say anything. You toss him the black manila folder containing information on your mission for him to read, sitting down at the kitchen counter together.

"Infamous dealer carrying nuclear weapons overseas. Headquartered somewhere in the Arctic Circle, I think," you explained as he pulled out the wanted man's file. "Can be taken either dead or alive. We have to stop them from going through with the attack."

"When are we leaving?"

"Wheels up at 8:30 p.m. Should take about 6 hours...we're being flown in via helicarrier."

Great.

You just realized you'd be stuck in a plane alone together for 6 hours straight, when the very thing you were trying to do was avoid him.

You're mostly silent as you board the jet, securing your bags and weapons before taking your seat. Fatigue is tugging at your body and your eyelids grow heavy, although it isn't even that late. Without thinking about what you were doing, you rest your head against Steve's shoulder and close your eyes. He wraps an arm around your waist in response.

Before you knew it, the aircraft was hovering over the drop zone. The two of you got up and went towards the back, fastening parachutes to your backs as the gates dropped open.

"Stay safe out there," you blurted out as you glanced down at the base below you, then over at Steve. "Circle the perimeter and meet me inside. Don't die or I'll kill you."

"Yes ma'am."

Inhaling sharply, you gripped the straps of your jacket and squeezed your eyes shut, the dry wind whipping your hair in your face as you descended downwards.

With his icy blue eyes still imprinted in the back of your mind.

...

It was quite ironic seeing that you, an Avenger and a former SHIELD pilot that flew everywhere all the time, had a crippling fear of heights. The mere idea of being jumping out of planes and having to go on missions involving multi-story buildings shook you to your core, and it always took you at least a week to recover once you got back.

"Steve!" Your voice heightened to a shriek as you felt the plane's velocity increase suddenly. The crates next to you toppled over and you went crashing to the floor alongside them, barely managing to grip the armrest of something and pressing your back against the wall, feeling your head spin. The sticky warmth and stinging, white-hot pain in your side tells you that you were shot. You didn't need to look at the wound to know it wasn't pretty. "Where the hell are you?"

"Fifty yards away from the northeast entrance," he replied breathlessly. "I got nothing. You?"

"The weapons," you panted, "are on the plane!"

"Okay. Where are you?"

"On the damn plane! They're gonna detonate at any moment, I have to get this thing away from the city—I'm not gonna make it so I just wanted to tell you that—"

"Fuck, don't say that," he hissed. You know things were bad when Steve Rogers, the man that coined the 'Language' line, swore. "Just—hang tight, I'm coming for you."

"No. Just forget it," you shouted over the noise, grunting in pain as your head hit the side of a storage box, muttering a string of curses under your breath. "I can't afford for you to risk your own life for me. It's okay. Just leave me behind."

"No, I'm not leaving you!" he yelled back. "I'm not going back home without you."

"Steve," your voice was thick with tears, throat feeling tight as you swallowed back the sob that was threatening to erupt from your lips. You wipe a tear that slips down your cheek and cleared your throat. "It's okay."

"It's not okay," he says hoarsely, "I lost you once, and I'm not losing you again."

"There's no point, Steve. I'm going to die. This thing's on autopilot going God knows where at top speed and if there's any chance of stopping this thing, I gotta crash it. If you come and get me you're gonna die, too. You know Fury's not gonna like having to send out an extraction team to drag both our corpses back to headquarters."

"Y/N, don't-" His voice breaks and you swear your heart shatters into a million pieces. "Please, don't- don't say that. I'm gonna come and get you. You're gonna be okay. We're gonna be okay."

That was the last straw for you; and you lost it at those last words. Tears sting a steaming hot trail down your cheeks as you hastily try to wipe them away with your bruised and bloodied knuckles. "No, we're not. I don't think you understand. I'm over 30,000 feet in the air with no protection whatsoever. They're gonna shoot you down before you even have the chance to get to me."

You always told yourself you'd be willing to put your life on the line to save someone else's; to sacrifice yourself for the greater good. But now that death was looming threateningly close to you and staring you down, for the first time in a long time, you didn't know if you even wanted to leave and you were scared. Scared of what was to come if you really were to meet your end. Scared of what was to come at the end of the tunnel, what would happen when you were swallowed whole by death's bottomless, dark pit. You didn't expect your fate to approach so quickly, and it scared you more than you wanted to admit.

Being a superhero meant that making sacrifices were a must-do. You always knew you would need to give things up in order to successfully do your job. That one day, your time to die would come but you didn't know it would happen like this; so unexpectedly.

Now you realize people were right as they told you in your final moments, you'd see your entire life flash before your eyes. You blink and you're transported back to when you first joined the Initiative, skeptical of the six unfamiliar faces before you. But it only takes a matter of three minutes before Thor cracks a joke that has you all howling in laughter, and another one for Natasha to approach you and start a conversation. To you, her, and Steve on the run as fugitives of SHIELD as you conducted the search for The Winter Soldier. The heartbreaking decision of having to choose between your mentor and best friend in Berlin--which you realized, happened barely over a year ago. So many memories had been created in such a short amount of time and you didn't ever want to let any of them go. You couldn't bring yourself to.

You stumbled over, sliding into the pilot's seat and buckling up. Your grip around the controls were so tight that the barely healing cuts around your knuckles reopened and began bleeding again.

You let out a shuddering sigh, tapping several buttons overhead before reaching down to turn on your comm again. "Steve? Are you there?"

"Darling..." The pure agony in his voice only makes you feel worse. You've never heard the great Captain America in such a soft-spoken tone before, so you could only assume it took him a lot to get him into this state. "Yeah. I'm here."

"So..." you readjusted your grip and let your shoulders fall back, "...you remember that one time we took the subway to see Hamilton last weekend?'

"Last weekend? It was only last weekend?" Steve tried his best to keep it together, but his wavering tone gave it all away. "Feels like forever since we got a break."

"I know," you let out a broken laugh, "and then you wouldn't stop talking about it the entire way back? It got so bad to the point Tony had to forcefully shut off all the speaker systems around the compound because he woke up at 3 am to see you sitting in the kitchen, playing the soundtrack at full volume."

"But when he saw you dancing around in the kitchen while making lunch the next day, he couldn't keep doing that for any longer. You have an amazing voice."

"I don't know..." you sniffed, forcing a smile, "you're the one who's pretty good at singing and playing the piano. I think you got all the musical talent-"

"Y/N," he interrupted, "stop. Don't do this to me."

"Do what?"

"You're talking as if you're gonna die."

The gravity of the whole situation comes crashing down on you again. "...Because I am."

"No, you're not. I'm not letting that happen."

"I don't think you have a say in things this time, Rogers," your voice cracked. You shook your head. "I'm done for. God, I really hoped this wasn't how I'd meet my end. I hate heights. I hate the ice, I'm scared shitless of dying, I can't- I can't do this. But I have to. If I don't, millions of people will die and I can't have that on my conscience."

You sucked in a breath as you looked out of the corner of your eye to see you're falling, and falling fast. In a matter of minutes you'll be plunging through the surface of the ice and into the depths of the icy-cold water. There's no turning back now.

"Geez," you spoke up again, "this is like some repeat of '45. Is this how it felt? Knowing you were gonna die, but doing it anyway because you knew you had to do it?"

"That's not the same. It was a matter of chance that I made it at all. Chances are slim to none that you'll end up frozen in a block of ice for 66 years."

"See, it's hopeless," you sighed. "Go back. You need to go...or you're gonna end up filled with bullets."

"I'm not going back," he repeated. "Not without you."

"If you're gonna think of a plan, you better think fast-"

"Jump."

"What did you just say? Are you out of your damn mind?"

"I said, jump. There's no other choice. Look for an emergency exit...there should be one above you. Do you see it?" His voice was calm, gentle, as if he was speaking to a child, and it soothed you a bit. You muttered a quick 'yes'. "Alright. Pry that open, get out of there. I'm coming with the Quinjet right now, so hang tight."

As if he could sense your fear, he softened his tone a bit more, "Hey. It's okay. I'm coming for you. You'll be alright."

"It's like we're Romeo and Juliet," you managed to choke out in between a laugh and sob,  "except only one of us dies."

"Y/N, you're not dying." He couldn't mask the obvious pain in his voice. "Honey, I promise you're not gonna die. You're gonna be alright."

"Steve-" You let out an earsplitting shriek and scrambled to get a stronger grip as blaring alarms sounded throughout the aircraft. The impact of the hits nearly made you topple off and you clung to the side of the jet for dear life, praying to God you weren't going to fall off and crack your head open on an iceberg. "I got hit. They're tailing after me, you can't, I'm actually gonna fall-"

"Okay, okay, I'm here. Do you see me?" You turned your head to the side ever so slightly to see the Quinjet hovering below, but your heart dropped when all you could see were snow flurries blowing around - and zero sign of the super-soldier.

"No-"

"Just jump. I see you. I'm literally right below you, so jump, okay?"

"Are you crazy?"

"Do you trust me?" he yelled out, his voice carrying over on the frigid winds. "Y/N. Do you trust me?"

"But-"

"I've never let you down before and I sure as hell won't now. Trust me, Y/N, come on."

You pressed your lips together. You knew he was right. Either you made the jump now, or get filled with a dozen bullets and dying a brutal and gory death.

You finally bring yourself to look down again and there he is, a little closer this time. His gaze finds yours and suddenly, you're drowning. You might've been hundreds of feet apart but no distance would be able to extinguish his piercing gaze. His eyes were the ocean and you were lost at sea, lost in those endless pools of blue and losing yourself in him—the one guy who stuck by your side for so long and thought as nothing more than a best friend, a teammate until now. The one guy who took your breath away with his million-dollar smile every time you made eye contact.

In the one guy who you thought was just a friend, until you realized you were hopelessly in love with him - the Steve Rogers.

And now you weren't sure if you'd come out of this alive to finally tell him so.

You squeezed your eyes shut and let go. The wind whipping at your hair and face feels like a thousand tiny needles being jabbed into your skin and you swear if you kept your mouth open you would've puked - if you'd opened your eyes you knew you'd die from fear first before anything else.

But all those thoughts are suddenly put to a halt when you're stopped by a pair of strong, warm arms you'd sought solace in countless times before.

"Y/N, thank God you're alright, oh my god," Steve let out a shuddering sigh as he held you close, cradling your head against his chest. "I thought I lost you. Oh my god. Are you okay?"

"I just fell out of an airplane without a parachute and I have no idea how I survived."

His look of concern immediately turns into horror when he pulls his hand off your waist to see it come back covered in your crimson blood. His face falls. Then it hits you all at once, and you're overcome with a nauseating wave of dizziness - the aftereffects were beginning to get to your head.

The super-soldier hurriedly jammed a finger to his ear. "I got her. We're on our way back. Prepare the medbay; she's gonna have to be operated on as soon as we land."

"Yes, sir," a STRIKE agent replied from the receiving end. "We'll get right to it. Please have a safe flight home."

"Thank you."

Steve put the jet on autopilot so he could sit with you in the back, frantically applying pressure to your wound and doing his best to patch you up. But with each round the bandages made around your waist, the blood flow increased, seeping through the fabric. You didn't have to tell him directly for him to know you didn't have much time left and if he were to save you, you would need to get back home, fast.

...

As soon as Steve stepped down the ramp with your limp, unconscious body in his arms, he was bombarded by a flurry of medbay agents, who had you in a gurney and were wheeling you away within minutes. He tried to follow after them but Tony quickly grabbed his wrist and yanked him back.

"Let me go," he growled. "I swear to Odin, Stark, if you don't-"

"You can't follow her in there."

"I can if I want to."

Tony let out a sigh of defeat. "Rogers. She's going to be fine."

"How do you know? How can you possibly guarantee her survival?"

"I just know. Sheesh, you're a hopeless romantic."

...

You glanced over at the monitor tracking your vitals beside your bed, the constant beeping of the machines seemingly echoing in your brain on a loop. You were too exhausted to do anything at the moment, but you couldn't seem to fall back asleep, even with the drugs coursing through your system.

You try to shift around and find a more comfortable position, and felt a twinge of pain on your right side. Note to self; don't place all your body weight on the side where a bullet tore through your stomach. Bad idea.

Laying flat on your back again, you closed your eyes, willing yourself to fall back asleep. But sleep never comes, and a few minutes later a knock on your door pulls you out of your momentary trance.

"Hey there, soldier," you managed a sleepy grin as Steve stepped into the room, pulling up a chair to your bedside. "Nice weather outside, isn't it? Feels like just yesterday I was gunned down and forced to drive myself to near-suicide...wait, that was yesterday, right? I've lost all sense of time-telling-"

You paused and looked back over to see a rare sight - he was on the verge of breaking down. His bright blue eyes were dulled and glossed over with fresh tears that threatened to spill, and although it had barely been over a day since your admittance to the hospital, it looked like he hadn't slept in over a week. And it was all your fault.

"Are you okay...?"

He shook his head, clenching his fists in his lap so tightly that they began turning white. "You’re seriously asking me if I’m okay? I almost lost you. You almost died."

"I'm sorry-"

"If I hadn't gotten to you in time, then...I don't know what I'd do if-"

"Steve, it's not your fault."

"I let you down, Y/N." His voice was cracked and raw, as if he'd been crying for hours on end beforehand. Your heart shattered at the sound. "I let you down and I'm so sorry I couldn't get to you sooner. I'm sorry I left you alone on that ship because I didn't look out for you well enough. This is all on me. My job was to protect you, to look out for you. And I failed to do that."

"You didn't fail, Steve," you said softly. "You did your best. You saved me. I'm alive right now because of what you did."

The super-soldier inhaled sharply and moved his chair closer so he could reach his hand out to place it on your forehead, letting it stay there for a moment before sliding it down to cup your cheek. You didn't make any efforts to remove it and if you were being honest with yourself, you liked how his warm skin felt against your own. He smelled like honey and freshly ground coffee and everything good in the world. He made you feel like you were at home.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you let yourself bask in his warmth, melting into his soft touch. If it weren't for your currently uncomfortable predicament, you would've fallen asleep on the spot all over again.

"Something's on your mind, isn't there," you mumbled, eyes still closed. Even without your powers, it didn't take much for you to figure out that something was wrong. "Tell me what's going on."

You opened your eyes again to see that there were tears streaming down his face. He hastily tried to wipe them away with one hand as the other was gently placed on top of yours, but his efforts were fruitless, of no avail whatsoever.

"Steve-"

"I was so worried," he croaked out. "I don't want to think about how things would be if you died. I can't live without you."

"I'm here now, okay? I'm going to be fine. I'll heal," you said softly. "You saved me, you caught me, so now I'm okay. We're okay." You moved over slightly to give him room to sit. Steve's arms encircled your waist as yours slid down and over his shoulders, and he pressed his trembling lips to your temple.

It was quiet. Whispered oh-so-quietly, as if he was hesitant to open his mouth. But you heard it regardless.

"I love you."

You smiled sadly. "I know. I love you too."

"Just...please don't try and pull off something off like that again."

"I won't. I promise."

You heard each shaky inhale and exhale as he tried to regain his composure - strong arms tightening around your figure with his face buried into the crook of your neck. Letting out a trembling sigh, you held onto him even tighter as if by some miraculous way, doing so could keep him from falling apart. As if somehow, your arms being around him could squeeze all the million little shattered pieces of his heart back together again.

You knew deep down, exactly why he had been so afraid to watch you meet your potential end. It was the jet plunging into the depths of the icy blue, monstrous sea. He didn't want you to experience even a fraction of what he had and prayed you’d never have to. He swore a silent oath to himself to shield you away from as much of the horrifying world as he possibly could, but you were nearly dragged under by the clutches of Death herself that day, and he couldn't help but feel like he failed you.

You took in a deep breath, inhaling his fresh scent of coffee grounds and warm honey as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. For the briefest moment in time you could pretend everything was in fact, going to be okay, because it was just you and him wrapped up in each others' arms without a care in the world. It was just you and him, basking in each others' warmth, silent whispers of reassurance into his ear and repeated soft, fleeting kisses to his temple that reminded him you were still alive and breathing, and you were just fine.

For the first time in a long time, Steve Rogers felt whole again. The hole in his heart was gone, the void finally filled. And all it took was your presence, and your presence alone.

...

(if your username is striked out, that means i couldn’t add you)

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[athenasbloodyspear]

The Viper: Chapter 5

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Find this fic on Ao3.

This fic is 18+ for violence and eventual sexual content. Please read at your own risk.

Master list

You woke up in the middle of the woods frozen to the bone. From the position of the moon you assumed it was somewhere around three in the morning. 

Your whole body ached. You felt like you’d been hit by a truck. 

I guess the force of an explosion will do that to a person. 

Groaning, you pushed yourself up to a sitting position. Well, it’s time to assess. You could tell you didn’t have any broken bones. That was a miracle. 

You were genuinely shocked that no agents had ventured into the woods and found you. You must have taken down more of them than you thought. 

Nice. The fuckers deserve it. 

You strained your ears, and you could make out faint voices in the distance. You pushed yourself over onto all fours and crawled slowly and silently in the direction that the voices came from. 

As you got closer you recognized the voices to be two top agents that had not been stationed at this location. They’d likely been dispatched to clean up your mess, and see if anyone had been left behind. You smiled a little bit to yourself. Idiots hadn’t even thought to check the woods. You were a loose end that they could have tied up so easily while you were unconscious. 

Not today, bastards. 

You crawled into a thicket of bushes and leaned your back against the trunk to listen to their continued conversation and catch your breath. 

Your ears perked up when they began to speak of the hostages, and their locations. A bolt of fear, a rare emotion for you, struck you when they spoke of a particular hostage and a particular location. 

You had planned on laying low, nursing your wounds and letting the Avengers do their work, but this information was too important to not act on immediately. 

You waited for the two agents to leave the area before rolling to your stomach, pushing through your aching bones to your feet. Speaking aloud to yourself once you caught your breath.

“I’m sorry Soldat, but I can’t wait for you any more.” 

 --

 Bucky felt hollow. It wasn’t a rare feeling for him, it had just been a long time since that ache had run so deep. At the same time, he felt ridiculous. He had seen his fair share of death and sacrifices on the field. Had sacrificed his safety time and time again for a greater cause. He didn’t understand why this particular moment had impacted him so much. 

It felt personal. That he had left you behind. Why did it feel like this wasn’t the first time he had made a decision that had this same outcome? 

Natasha had been up for thirty-six hours straight trying to decrypt the flash drive that you had handed to them in the scuffle. They’d flown back to the compound rather than the tower so they could all have a little peace. She hadn’t moved from her super computer since they’d returned, except to use the restroom. Bucky had made sure her coffee mugs were full and that every few hours food was placed in front of her. She still barely looked up. 

Bucky still sat in the lounge chair behind her. He had brought a novel along with him, something he had swiped off Steve’s bookshelf a few weeks ago in a fit of boredom. He only managed to read a few paragraphs at a time before he realized his eyes were only glossing over words without reading them. Then he’d stare at what Natasha was doing on screen, but the strings of ones and zeros and various windows of code didn’t make any more sense to him. 

He felt restless. Helpless. 

Guilty. 

A soft intake of breath from Nat knocked him from his self pity spiral.

“What?” he muttered. His voice crackling with disuse.

“I’m in.” Nat breathed. “Well, halfway in. Friday, get everyone down here.” 

“What?”  

Nat glanced over her shoulder at Bucky. “I got half the file decrypted. The rest I’m going to have to have Friday continue to work on while we look at this stuff. It’s even more intensely protected than this section. Whatever it is that our girl found, they really didn’t want anyone to know. I assume this was what she had knowledge of that they wanted her dead for.” 

“What did you find?” Bucky huffed impatiently. 

“Bad shit.” 

Just then Steve burst through the door, with Sam hot on his heels. “What is it? Friday said it was important.” 

“I’m in.” Nat sighed. She chugged the last of her cold coffee and Bucky handed her his long since cold cup. She sucked that one down too. 

“Friday, can you put everything on screen?” Tony quipped as he strolled into the room. His hands were full of carriers of fresh coffees which he plopped on the table. “Figured you could use a warm up. Had an extra suit run to that diner down the road that bionic man haunts when he’s feeling moody.” 

Bucky grumbled a thank you to Steve as he grabbed the cup with his name on it. The waitresses did always know exactly how he liked his coffee. They were also no stranger to an empty Iron man suit showing up for takeout.  

“So what are we looking at?” Steve piped up. 

Tony was quickly using his fingers to swipe windows side to side along the walls, expanding certain windows and flipping away others. His eyes were scanning quickly through information. Nat was next to him, reading over his shoulder. Steve, Sam and Bucky waited behind them, knowing it wouldn’t do them any good to try to read all the complicated language on screen. 

“Friday, translate this file for me.” Tony muttered. Swiping a file that looked like a bunch of scans of handwritten notes. They appeared to be in Russian. Bucky squinted at the screen. The handwriting looked like it belonged to a child. 

“What the hell is this stuff Tony?” Sam piped up from where he was leaning against the desk. His eyes were scanning across the various documents as the foreign languages quickly shuffled letters into English as Friday translated. 

“They’re…” Tony trailed off as he stared at the screen. His eyes widened and his jaw hanging open. 

Nat suddenly dropped into the chair behind her, as if her knees had given out on her. Steve lurched forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. 

“Nat are you-” 

“They’re combining the Winter Soldier Project with the Red Room.” Nat choked out, her hand covering her mouth. “They’re working together. Hydra and the matrons at the Red Room they…” Nat was sucking in deep breaths. 

“It looks like our little snake friend was a test subject. Their first attempt at taking a Red Room agent and wiping them like the Winter Soldier.” Tony muttered out. 

“They didn’t just take her. The matrons sold her to them. That’s what that Polaroid of her in the Red Room was. They created profiles for all their viable subjects and Hydra offered them compensation for taking the agents they wanted.” Nat choked out. 

“It looks like they’ve been experimenting with some genetic modification.” Tony continued. “They bought five agents from the Red Room and Viper was the only one to survive their training.” 

“Where did they train them?” Bucky had to ask. He needed to know if what he suspected was possibly true. 

Nat turned slowly to look at him. “Siberia.” 

Bucky felt his lungs contract as every ounce of air left him. It was his turn to fall into the chair behind him. Then he must have known you. He must have trained with you at some point. 

“It looks like they were going to try to use the Red Room agents to fill in missing holes while they finished the Winter Soldier new recruits. They were to be trained exactly the same, just without the serum, only some genetic strength modification. To help them withstand the brainwashing.” Tony continued. “It looks like the Red Room placed a limit on how many agents they would sell to them. Hydra must have gotten greedy as they killed test subject after test subject.”

“So what are they doing now?” Steve piped up. His hand remained on Nat’s shoulder, but his concerned gaze was on Bucky. Sam took a step closer and put his hand on Bucky’s shoulder as a mirror image to Steve and Nat. Bucky shook the hand off and stood to pace. He felt like he was going to burst out of his skin. He could remember bits and pieces of the new recruits with serum. Why couldn’t he remember a single thing about you? 

“The timeline cuts off here. The rest of the information is still encrypted.” Nat said. “My guess is that they are kidnapping people across eastern Europe to continue this experimentation. The question is why and who?”     

There was a long moment of silence as everyone processed that information. 

“Well we know what they’re doing over there.” Tony finally started. “I guess we just work on decrypting the rest to figure out what we’re gonna do about it. Romanov you will not continue this. I am demanding you get eight hours before continuing. Friday can work on it while you rest.” 

“Says the man who stays up for days at a time building suits…” Natasha muttered. 

“Yes. Which is why I now have a nanny suit that will come up here and drag you back to your room and keep you in there if you don’t go willingly.”

“Mr. Stark. There’s been a breach at the south property line. Two heat signatures.” Friday suddenly cut in. 

All at once, everyone bolted. Tony pressed a button on his watch and his travel suit took off from the basement to travel his direction. Everyone took a quick pit stop in the armory to grab whatever weapons they could quickly strap on before they all went hurtling out the back door of the compound. 

Tony and Sam took to the skies while Steve, Nat and Bucky followed them in formation on the ground. As the tree line became visible, two forms came into view. One was carrying the other. 

“It’s her.” Tony yelled through the coms. Bucky almost burst into tears. He had to swallow the lump that instantly formed in his throat, relief coursing through his veins at high speed. 

“Who’s she carrying?” Steve asked as they continued to run toward you. 

“Don’t know.” 

As they hurtled in your direction, Bucky watched you stumble over your feet and collapse to your knees. Careful not to jostle the person in your arms, even though it caused you to take the weight of both of you right in your knee caps. 

As they approached, he noticed you were both covered in dust and blood. It was unclear whose blood. The adrenaline in him allowed him to pull away from the group. Again determined to be the first to reach you. An instinct he didn’t understand but he was following blindly.  

When he reached you, you had fallen sideways, the other person curled up against your chest. 

The child, he corrected. For you held a young girl no more than eight to your torn bloody chest. Tears streaming tracks down your face, leaving clean lines of skin between the blood. 

“Are you okay?” He whispered, his voice shaking. He wished he knew your name. Your real name. He refused to refer to you as the Viper now. 

“Please help her.” You choked out through tears. The rest of the team crowded around you then. Sam and Tony lowering slowly from the sky to flank behind you. “Please you have to help her. She needs medical attention.” You continued to sob. 

Steve bent down slowly and carefully lifted the young girl out of your arms. Your hands followed her slight body as Steve gently removed her from your arms until he had pulled her too far from your grip. “Please.” You choked again. 

“I’ve got her.” Steve said softly. “Sam go tell Banner we need him.” 

“Got it.” Sam took off toward the compound as Steve turned and started to run as fast as he could while still holding his tiny bundle carefully. 

Bucky never tore his eyes from you. 

You coughed and sobbed again and he watched as more blood bubbled up and dribbled down from the corner of your lips to your chin. 

“Fuck.” Bucky whispered under his breath, snagging you into his arms and turning to follow in Steve’s footsteps toward the compound. When he heard you chuckle softly he turned his gaze back down to you. “What?” 

“Just like old times.” You muttered before he watched your eyes roll back in your head and you lost consciousness. 

His heart dropped into his toes. 

 --

 Bucky sat just outside the room that Tony decided to hold you in. It was an upgrade from the glass box they’d locked you in at the tower, but not by much. It was a fully bullet proof glass room that they had quickly turned into a hospital room. You were on a hospital gurney but, just like the cage they’d put you in before, you were strapped down. Even though they all knew it was mostly a ruse at this point. Even after Bucky had cussed out Tony for an hour. Tony had told him it was non negotiable. Until they could speak to you, you would stay locked up. 

So Bucky sat just outside the room, staring through the glass window watching you sleep. His eyes scanning your face and watching your chest rise and fall, willing his memory to come up with something. He had been so sure that he remembered everything from those years in Siberia, but you spoke as if you’d known each other more than a little. Your comment as he carried you into the compound was ringing in his ears. What did you mean, just like old times?

He was silently reliving every horrific memory he had from Siberia. The brutal and bloody training sessions. The torture he’d inflicted and those that had been inflicted on him. He scanned every memory, trying to find your face. He even jumped as far back as the ill fated mission that started the resurgence of the Winter Soldier project. 

“Stop torturing yourself and wait for her to wake up.” Nat said as she sauntered into the hallway that Bucky had parked himself in. 

“I just don’t understand why I can’t remember her when she clearly knows me. Normally I at least see faces or vague things. I have nothing.” Bucky whispered. 

“I’m assuming there’s a reason for that, Buck.” Nat sighed as she sat in the office chair next to him. “Don’t push it.” 

Bucky put his head in his hands. He felt the same as he had before going to Wakanda, like his mind was not entirely his own, and it was making him feel sick to his stomach. 

“Hey.” This came from Sam as he walked into the room, tossing a questioning look at Nat seeing the state that Bucky was in. “Um, if you’re feeling okay, Banner asked us all to come to his lab. Said it was important.” 

Bucky only grunted in response. 

 --

 Once everyone had finally arrived at Banners lab, Tony snapped. 

“Alright buddy, what’s up? I have some very important decryption to get back to.”

“I was running blood tests on the little girl to see if I could figure out where she’s from or how Viper got her hands on her.” Banner started. 

Bucky snarled at the way Banner phrased the statement. You had clearly not been kidnapping the child, but saving her. He hated that even with all the evidence of your good will, they continued to frame you as an enemy.

“You’re never going to believe it but…” Banner trailed off. 

“Spit it out big guy.” From Tony. 

Banner turned toward the screen and pulled up what appeared to be a scan of an old photo from a disposable camera. The photo showed a girl around the age of six, sitting on a ratty couch, cradling an infant in her arms. The little girl's face was elated, a huge smile with a missing front tooth on display. 

“That little girl is Vipers sister.”

Taglist:

@maxsaturdayhatesnarwhals

@daddysfavoritesexkitten

@creator-appreciator

[littlemomountain]

TianShan, At the Gym

Where He Tian works at a local gym, and wants to be a special someone’s personal trainer. The characters are older than in the original story by Old Xian.

———————————————

He Tian worked at the local gym located not five minutes away from his apartment complex. He worked part-time as a personal fitness instructor in an effort to keep himself from growing bored; he knew full well he didn’t have to work a day in his life.

At the gym he had his regulars, the ones that requested to get their six-packs asap, to bulk up their body weight with most of the weight being muscle, but very few of them could keep up with the rigorous work-outs set up by him. That wasn’t his problem. “If you’re asking to get that type of body in a short period of time, you’re going to have to work for it,” he would state matter-of-factly. He was right, of course, but the members didn’t want to be told this, and many would refuse to come back altogether, feeling slighted by his blatant disregard for their inability to match his discipline.

That particular evening was not very crowded at all. It wasn’t a weekend, for one thing, and the weather was rather nasty: a frigid -10 degrees Celsius. So there he was, checking to make sure the machines were wiped down, that the dumbbells weren’t scattered in disarray, and that the few people that were there, five in total, were using the machines properly.

“Your shift is just about over, isn’t it? You can leave the rest to me.” He Tian turned around to see Zhan Zheng Xi speaking to him. Zhan Zheng Xi also worked there, and unlike He Tian, he was much more lenient when it came to creating workout routines. For that reason, he had a lot more clients. Zhan Zheng Xi ran his hand through his dark blond hair, and sighed.

“What’s eating you?” He Tian asked. It was rare to see Xi looking so nervous, the guy was always so level-headed.

“It’s nothing. Just a friend is stopping by. Says I’ve been too busy for him lately. He’s upset.” Zhan Zheng Xi stared at the door as he said this, watching for this person to come to him.

He Tian rolled his eyes. “Ah yes, you’re “friend.” You mean Jian Yi, don’t you? But wasn’t he here yesterday, and the day before?” He Tian was now leaning his body against the counter, and searched the streets for said person. This was another reason he chose to work here: He Tian got along well with both of them, and considered them his friends, of which he had few to speak of. Sure, he was surrounded by a plethora of fangirls at school, and even some guys who wanted to be seen with him, but these two were genuine, and that was not easy to come by.

“Yeah, but I’m working, so it’s hard to talk to him. Today though, he doesn’t expect many people to show.” Zhan Zheng Xi’s eyes perked up as he saw the familiar fair figure approaching the gym, bundled up in a gray parka with the hoodie lined in a faux fur trim over his head, speed walking to escape the cold. But he wasn’t alone. He seemed to be dragging someone along with him, who looked to be underdressed for the cold weather in his flimsy, mustard-colored jacket. The man wore a black-knit cap and had a permanent scowl on his face. His face was as red as a tomato.

“Who is that?” He Tian asked excitedly, leaning forward with his forearms now resting on the counter and craning his head as he tried to get a better view.

“Jian Yi texted me earlier, saying he made a new friend today.” As he told He Tian this, he began to walk towards the door to open it for them. “He’s being way too friendly,” Zhan Zheng Xi muttered under his breath.

“Zhan Zheng Xi~~ It’s so cold, I thought I was going to die!!!” Jian Yi nearly tackled the poor Xi, who stumbled a few steps back as he caught Yi in his embrace. Jian Yi didn’t consider the fact that Zhan Zheng Xi was only wearing a t-shirt at this point, so Zhan Zheng Xi was immediately chilled to the touch. Some people in the gym snickered at this interaction, but otherwise resumed their workout.

“That’s why I didn’t want you to come today,” Zhan Zheng Xi replied. When he saw Jian Yi’s hurt expression however, he quickly added, “You could have gotten sick.”

That did the trick. “Aww, you care so much about me!” Jian Yi hugged him again, and then remembered his new friend. “Oh yeah! Zhan Zheng Xi, meet Mo Guan Shan. He saved me today! I forgot my wallet at home today and I couldn’t pay for a snack at that old lady’s shop, you know, the one by the college? He works there and let me take it and he told me I can pay it back next time!”

“It’s not a big deal,” the young man replied. “I’m leaving. I don’t know why I let myself be dragged along by you. It’s too fucking cold. I’m not in the mood to work out.” As he said this, he made as if to leave, but He Tian’s voice rung clear behind him.

“Are you afraid to build up a sweat? You’re here now, so you might as well make the most of it, don’t you think?” He Tian came forward and stopped in front of Mo Guan Shan, leaning in close to him, who blushed and took a step back. “Too fucking close,” Mo muttered. His red hair, his glowing gaze, his cute frowning face, He Tian liked everything about him already.

“But He Tian, you’re shift is almost fin— ugh!” Before he could finish this statement, Zhan Zheng Xi was elbowed by He Tian in the stomach, who continued to smile down at Mo Guan Shan with his best customer-service smile. Jian Yi caught on more quickly, and led Zhan Zheng Xi away to leave the pair alone. “Zhan Zheng Xi, why don’t you train me for once?” He whined as he linked their arms together and walked them towards the farthest set of machines possible, leaving the pair alone.

“So, where were we?” He Tian started.

“I was in the middle of leaving,” Mo Guan Shan replied coolly, placing his hands inside his jacket and getting ready to brave the cold.

“Until I convinced you to stay,” came He Tian’s response. Mo turned to look at him with a scowl, and before he could reply, He Tian was raising his hands above his head in a mock gesture of surrender to Mo’s bad temper. “Come on, you won’t regret it. I’ll even give you a training session for free. And I don’t think you really want to head out that badly, do you?”

He Tian could feel Mo’s hesitation, saw the small breath of uncertainty that caught at his throat, the deep frown that settled as he contemplated his words, and took advantage of Mo’s indecision. “Here, let me take you to the locker room so you can put your coat away.” He Tian walked ahead without looking behind him but smiled to himself as he could feel the young man trailing behind. Once they were in front of the lockers, He Tian allowed Mo Guan Shan to pick one of many red lockers lining the wall and watched as Mo selected the farthest one, took off his cap and shrugged out of his jacket, revealing the sleeveless white undershirt that fit tightly to his attractive, muscled frame. The material was almost translucent and when Mo turned to look at him, He Tian could see Mo’s perked nipples underneath. It took everything he had to keep his eyes above Mo’s chest, meeting the quizzical ones that gazed up at him. “Shouldn’t we get going?”

He Tian nodded. “Here,” He Tian gave him a small key that would be used to open the locker when they were finished. Mo Guan Shan reached out, his fingers still cold as He Tian felt his touch, and pocketed it in his grey sweatpants. He Tian thought how lucky it was that Mo Guan Shan had worn sweatpants and sneakers on this day, appropriate for the occasion. “Follow me,” he said as he led him back to the workout hall.

He Tian scanned the room and saw even less people than before; only two others were left aside from Zhan Zheng Xi and Jian Yi. It seemed that Jian Yi was struggling with the weight on the bench press, but Xi was taking good care of him and was over him and ready to grab the weight if it came to be too much for him. He Tian smirked, and directed Mo Guan Shan towards the treadmills. Mo Guan Shan immediately protested.

“I want to lift some weights,” he said.

“We’ll get there, but we need to warm you up first,” He Tian replied. “Let’s start you off with a five-minute cardio session to get your blood pumping, and then move on to some light stretching.” He Tian smiled at him. “I know it sounds tedious, but trust me. Your body will thank me for it later.” Mo Guan Shan couldn’t help but think there was an ulterior meaning behind his words, but followed along as He Tian pushed the level up on the treadmill he was led to until Mo was at a light jog. He Tian looked on appreciatively and thought to himself that Mo had good form. Usually he would have to correct his clients on their posture but Mo was firm, and his jog was lithe and smooth, keeping his breathing even while trying to avoid He Tian’s stare.

After the five minutes had elapsed, Mo got off the treadmill and was sweating mildly, his cheeks a nice, healthy flush of pink. He Tian thought how nice his complexion looked, and how he would love to see more of it in a more intimate setting with just the two of them. In his bed, most preferably, with his flushing face being caused by something He Tian did to him. He Tian could already imagine running his fingers down Mo Guan Shan’s bare chest and eliciting a sharp cry once his hand cupped his sex. His thoughts were getting to be too dangerous, and he had to snap out of it to face the man before him.

“I’m ready now,” Mo Guan Shan said.

“Almost,” He Tian replied. He Tian walked up to Mo and got behind him, placing his hands on Mo’s shoulders, who bristled at the contact. He Tian clicked his tongue. “Your muscles are quite tense here. I need you to keep your back straight and have you lift your shoulders and then roll them forwards, and then backwards. Do this until you feel the tension ease up a bit.” Albeit reluctantly, Mo complied, and while he didn’t want to admit it, these motions did seem to help loosen up his body. He Tian looked on approvingly. “Good, that will do for now. Next, let’s follow it up with a trapezius stretch.” He Tian lightly took a hold of Mo’s arm and brought it behind his back. “With your other hand, grab the arm I have behind your back and pull gently. Hold this position for about 15 seconds and,” He Tian let go of Mo’s arm and gently rested his hand on Mo’s hair, tilting his head to the side, “tilt your ear towards the direction your arm is being pulled. You will repeat this motion again with your other arm once you are finished.” Mo felt strange being handled by He Tian, but now his neck muscles were loosening up along with his shoulders and he couldn’t complain. A sigh escaped his lips.

“Does it feel that good?” He Tian whispered into his ear, and Mo Guan Shan blushed.

“You jerk, don’t stand so close!” Mo’s ears were red, and He Tian thought how fun it was to tease him.

“Did I startle you, Little Mo?” The nickname came easily to He Tian’s lips, and he liked the sound of it. “After you’ve completed some cross-body arm stretches and quad stretches, we can then start with the workout.”

Once he was finished with those stretches, He Tian led Mo Guan Shan to the area with the weights and machines, and saw Mo’s eyes light up. “How cute,” He Tian thought. On the way, He Tian picked up his water bottle from the counter in the center of the gym, and Mo, seeing this, said, “I’m thirsty. Are there any more water bottles?”

He Tian smiled internally with the little devil horns appearing on his head, and he said, “You can have mine.”

“I don’t want yours. You’ve already pressed your lips to it,” Mo responded, annoyed.

“Do you see it as an indirect kiss?” He Tian mused. “Aren’t we a little too old for that? Have a taste, Little Mo. It’s nice and cold.” As he said this, He Tian removed the cap and took a slow sip from the water, watching him as he did so. Then he offered it to Mo. In reality, he was not expecting Mo to take it; he was playing around and He Tian knew that they did have a fridge full of water bottles, which he was eventually going to offer to Mo. So he was surprised to have Mo tentatively bring his hand up and take the bottle from He Tian, who almost let it slip from his own fingers, and stared wide-eyed as Mo Guan Shan brought the bottle to his lips and began to drink from it. He Tian stared at Mo as he finished drinking, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, his lips now wet and, He Tian thought, enticing. He licked his lips.

“Where do we start?” Mo asked.

“Let’s begin with some push-ups to get you started off strong. I want you to place your feet on this small bench to get them in an elevated position. Now get yourself down in a plank position, keeping your head and back straight as you come down for each push-up. You will do three sets of 20 push-ups. Also,” He Tian came over with a weight and placed it on Mo’s back, “this will add some spice to your workout.”

Mo Guan Shan felt the weight at his back and adjusted his position. “This guy’s not playing around,” he thought. Mo completed the first set smoothly, gave himself a forty-five second pause before beginning the second set when he started to feel the burn in his arms and core. The third set took more of a push, but reaching the end of it, He Tian was satisfied.

“Wow, you’re so strong~” He took the weight off of Mo’s back and rustled his hair playfully. Mo knocked his hand out of the way and asked, “What’s next?”

“After a push comes the pull. You’re doing pull-ups next.” He Tian directed Mo towards the pull-up bar. “You’ll do fifteen sets of five.” Mo began to reach up to the handles when he felt He Tian wrap his arms around his waist. “What the hell are you doing?!” Mo blushed and squirmed against his hold but He Tian didn’t budge.

“We’re adding a weight lifting belt. Don’t think I’ll go easy on you.” He Tian leaned his chin against the crook of Mo’s neck, pressing his chest against Mo’s back as he wrapped the belt around his waist, tightening the straps. “Ugh,” escaped Mo’s lips.

“Is that too tight for you, Little Mo?” He Tian loosened it slightly. “Sorry, your waist is small compared to my usual clients. How about this, is that better?” He Tian’s hands lingered at Mo’s waist, his breath tickling Mo’s ear.

“Better.” Mo didn’t like the warm feeling rising in his chest, so he stepped away from He Tian abruptly and reached out to the handles once more.

“Keep your legs straight, we’re going for the tactical style pull-up. Your lower back will appreciate it,” He Tian said as he watched Mo’s form. Mo complied, and felt his core was feeling it more in this position than the usual way of doing it. His arms were burning, but having eyes on him pushed him to complete the sets. He Tian admired the way Mo’s muscles moved nimbly, the way his shirt clung to his taut body, the way his fiery gaze pierced ahead of him in intense concentration as he focused on completing the sets. He Tian could only think how he wanted to tame him and make Mo Guan Shan’s body surrender to his own. He wondered if Mo could see the effect he was having on him.

“I’m done,” Mo Guan Shan said. He let go of the handle and tried to remove the belt from his waist but his fingers were fumbling on the straps.

“Let me.” He Tian bent his head down, their foreheads nearly touching, and his fingers undid the straps with ease. Mo Guan Shan didn’t meet his gaze. “What now?” Mo asked.

“The bench press. I told you, I won’t go easy on you.” He Tian brought him toward the bench and wiped it down. He Tian then brought a bench press weight of 215 pounds and set it on the rack. “You can lie down now, Little Mo.” Mo Guan Shan did so, firmly planting his feet on the ground. Mo tried to ignore the fact that He Tian’s crotch was level with his face, and prepared himself to grab the weight. “Widen your grip a little more, Little Mo.” He Tian’s fingers came over Mo’s and brought his hands the right width apart. “Good. As you remove the weight from the bar, keep your arms straight and then lower it down to your mid-chest. We’re aiming for four sets of eight reps. I’ll be here if it gets to be too much.” As Mo brought the weight down, He Tian stayed by him and watched as he worked on each set. At times he would bring his hands over Mo’s to grip the weight as he felt Mo was losing his grip or the weight was remaining too long near his chest. “Don’t push yourself,” He Tian said.

Once he was finished, He Tian helped Mo get the weight back on the rack and watched as Mo Guan Shan laid on the bench, breathing heavily, sweat tricking down his forehead. He Tian stepped away and came back with a clean towel, crouching down next to Mo and wordlessly pressing the towel to his forehead, gently pressing at the skin. Mo Guan Shan looked up at him, his lips parted and his eyes hooded. He was too tired to protest. Mo was about to sit up but He Tian gently pushed him down. “Don’t rush. Rest a couple of more minutes and then drink some water. We’re almost done.”

“Hey, He Tian.” He Tian turned to look up at Zheng Xi, who was bundled up with his coat and with Jian Yi at his side, their arms linked together. “It’s almost closing time.”

He Tian surveyed the gym hall and found the four of them were the only ones left. “I’ll take care of it. Leave me the keys and I’ll close down properly when I leave.” Zheng Xi nodded and flung him the keys, which He Tian caught easily.

“We’re leaving then,” Xi said, giving a short nod to both of them.

“I knew you’d like it, Shan! Did you have a good time?” Jian Yi chimed in, but was being dragged away by Xi before he could get a reply. “See you two next time!” He yelled out from the door. Now they were alone.

Mo Guan Shan broke the silence first. He came to a sitting position and He Tian looked at him. “I should leave now,” he said. Mo looked outside and saw that it was getting dark.

“Hn. I still had more things I wanted to do with you...” He Tian ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “Will you come back to me?” He Tian needed him to say yes.

“I don’t know,” Mo Guan Shan responded honestly. The workout did him good, but he was scared about developing any attachments to He Tian. The thought of that scared him more than he wanted to admit.

“Come back to me,” He Tian stated firmly. He rested his hand over Mo’s, and his coal eyes probed searchingly into red ones. “Only to me.”

“I—“ Mo started.

“Please,” He Tian breathed.

Mo Guan Shan looked down at their hands, at the green veins that lined He Tian’s, his hands bigger than his own, and saw him tightening his grip. “Why am I not pulling away?” Mo thought. “Why am I still here?”

As if a distant person were speaking, Mo heard himself say, “Okay.” And then he felt a pull at his hand, and then he was being embraced, feeling something warm on his lips, on his cheek, on his neck. It took him a minute to realize he was being kissed, and he was about to say something, putting his hand at He Tian’s chest to push him away, but his lips were captured by He Tian’s, warm and moist and tasting of peppermint, and he brought his hand to Mo’s neck and kept him there, pulling him in, feeling as the struggle became less pronounced, a moan beginning to build up behind Mo’s parted lips. They were both breathing hard when they came apart, and Mo’s cheeks were flushed, his mouth slick, with He Tian wanting to fuck him right here, damn it if he cared what people saw, that he was still at work, that people could see them from the glass windows. He wanted to push Mo Guan Shan back down on the bench press and trap him under his weight, to grind down on him and watch Mo squirm underneath him, but it was too soon. He Tian knew Mo Guan Shan wasn’t ready to accept him yet, but he would wait for him until he was.

“Fuck, what was that for?” Mo finally managed to say, his face still very much red.

“It was my thank you. I couldn’t control myself,” He Tian said, smiling his wicked, playful smile. “Now go grab your coat. I’ll wait for you outside.”

“You don’t have to wait, I know my way out,” Mo replied stubbornly as he made his way to the locker room.

“I have no choice. I have to lock up, remember?” He Tian called out to Mo, who showed him the middle finger. He Tian chuckled.

“Anyway,” He Tian thought to himself. “I have to wait for you. Because tonight,” he smiled, “you’re coming over to my place.”

-littlemomountain

[diddilysquatbubkis]

Control (Peter Parker x Reader fanfiction)

A/N: Finally finished the fanfiction that was requested based off one of my imagines! Really hope you guys like it! I wanted to finish this earlier but I have been pounded with homework this week. This isn’t a full fanfic, and I want to keep it that way so it’s more towards YOU rather than a character that represents you (so basically it kind of drops off at the end so you can imagine an ending that would match your preferences). Anyways, hope you guys enjoy my first fanfic!

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Hundreds of lockers line the walls of high schools. Each assigned to its own person chosen at random. Two inseparable friends could have lockers on the opposite sides of the building just by chance.

Chance became king.

And chance assigned your locker to be next to Peter Parker. He was in your grade and you were content with him. Your relationship barely reached the definition of friendship, but it was well above the title of classmate. You two rarely talked, only when told to through group projects or partner quizzes, but you had a good communication with him.

Having lockers beside one another increased the conversation from a comfortable silence to a basic head nod. While you’re unsure of how it started, every day you two would give a small head nod towards each other when you were both at your lockers. Many outsiders who noticed decided to question the action, and neither of you had an explanation.

In times like these - dark and fearful times full of villains and rampage - a small head nod was simple push to make it to the next day. Enjoying the little things became a support group from the darkness that Earth was encountering.

While there were heroes to put an end to each villain, villainy would never cease. You had accepted this with ease, because there would be no heroes if there were no villains, but this didn’t change the fact that you stared at the news channels in fear of reading a headline stating that New York was being attacked by some inhumane force.

Thankfully, the only inhumane headlines you had to read were the worksheets and book chapters of your homework. Still, the feeling loomed over you.

You were not alone in this fearful state, in fact, most people you knew also held this constant thought of danger. Your younger brother, however, showed no signs of fear. While he wasn’t mature enough to understand the true dangers of the world, he was more mature than most in that he had hope and faith in his heroes.

Now you and your brother were living alone. Your grandmother took you two in after your parents abandoned you, but she died soon after. Instead of going into the foster system and being separated from your brother, you decides to illegally live there alone with him. Your grandma put you and only you in her will, so you didn’t have to worry about providing for your brother.

Because of this loss of parental guidance, your brother turned to looking up to superheroes. It escaped his knowledge that you were one of those heroes.

As a child, you parents experimented on you to become a superhuman, and it worked. But, after loosing control of your powers, they ran away from you and left you in the care of your baby brother. You rarely have used your powers since.

When you do decide to put aid into your powers, it is simply upon mundane acts such as shutting a door or grabbing something that was across the room. You could not risk the possibility of losing control or having someone catch you, so your powers were neglected.

And you were content with this. Using your powers would only put your brother in danger, and you vowed to protect him at all costs.

Peter, however, did not share this view.

Conveniently for the two of you, neither knew of each others powers.

You looked up to Spiderman yet ceased even the mere thought that your chemistry buddy was that hero.

To be fair to you, school - especially chemistry - only brought out the mundane in people, so the thought of anyone in your school being semi interesting seemed unlikely.

But you still found joy in your classes, especially when you and Peter were assigned partners for a science fair project together.

Peter was especially good at science, and you were pretty good too, so you knew that your project would be spectacular.

After the bell rang to dismiss class, Peter turned towards you.

“So, partner, any ideas on what you would want to do?” he asked.

“I can’t think of any off of the top of my head, but if I come up with something I’ll let you know,” you stated.

Peter smiled.

“I’ll do the same then!”

You decided to reconvene beside your lockers after school ended, and you spent the rest of the day brainstorming.

At the end of the day, you put your books away and waited for Peter to arrive.

Once he did, you pulled out your notebook and smiled at him.

“Uh oh. What did you come up with?” he joked.

“I have a couple of ideas,” you began. “One: Free energy through perpetual motion machines. Two: Diazotroph bacteria as a cereal crop growth promoter. Three: Creating a facility for farming on Mars. Four: Controlling food intake speed with electronic circuitry.”

“I like the one about perpetual motion. That’d be a really interesting project to make.”

You nodded in agreement.

“Cool! So when would you be able to work on it? I’m actually free tonight, if that works with you,” Peter suggested

You thought for a moment.

“Yeah, that works for me!” you smiled.

You suggested your house sense you needed to look after your brother. Peter seemed to like the idea, so you two walked back to your house together.

Your house wasn’t big by any means, but it was big enough for two or three people. Peter seemed to enjoy it and not mind its cozy nature.

In the kitchen, you made a snack for your brother while Peter brought out his laptop and notebook so you could start on your project.

Peter opened up the laptop and started to search on your research topic.

“Okay, ‘How to Make a Perpetual Motion Machine’. Sounds like a good resource,” Peter said as he clicked the link.

You glanced over your shoulder to view the screen. “That’s Wikipedia, Parker,” you said with a laugh.

Peter turned around, half amused that you called him by his last name, but also because you noticed that the site was Wiki.

“What’s your point?” Peter joked to which you laughed in return.

Just then, your brother came running into the house and into the kitchen where he heard you and Peter.

“What’s for snack?” he immediately asked, skipping any sort of manners.

You scoffed, “Well hello to you too.”

When your brother neglected to share any response, you answered his question.

“I’m making you a cheese sandwich. Does that sound good?”

Your brother nodded profusely.

You put the sandwich onto a plate and turned to Peter.

“Peter, this is Michael. Michael, this is Peter.”

Michael reached for the plate and his glass of milk, gave Peter a quick smile and wave, then ran up to his room.

You sighed, “Michael! Don’t spill on the carpet!” you yelled up the staircase.

Peter tried not to laugh, “Your brother is pretty great.”

You rolled your eyes and sat down next to him, “If by ‘pretty great’ you mean a pain to deal with,” you joked.

“Now let’s find a reliable website for our project, shall we?”

Hours passed by and you had begun to make dinner for the three of you. Peter didn’t question about where your parents were or any adult for that matter. You hadn’t told anyone about your lack of parental units in your home to anyone, and you were grateful that Peter didn’t mention it.

As you cooked and listened to Peter read articles about your project, you felt a small shake in the ground.

You stopped moving and Peter stopped talking.

You both glanced at each other and waited for the rumble again. And it happened.

You heard car horns blare and people shout, and your face went three shades lighter in an instant.

Peter quickly stood up and went outside to see what was happening, and you followed.

The streets were empty, but a giant beast loomed in the sky, and it was headed in your direction.

Without any hesitation, you sprinted up the stairs to your brothers room, and Peter followed.

Your brother was on the floor, homework spread out, sleeping. You went to scoop him up into your arms when you heard the roof of the house begin to crack.

You had no choice but to protect your brother, so you let your guard down and quickly threw a force field to surround you three.

It was completely black and you couldn’t see anything through it.

After a few seconds, you dropped the shield and ran to your sleeping brother.

You noticed the beast flying down the street, away from your house, and you also noticed Peter.

He looked more in shock than he did afraid.

Peter trembled on his words, “Y-you have powers.”

You looked down in shame of yourself.

“Parker, please don’t tell anyone else. Please I beg of you.”

“No. I won’t. I promise,” he swore.

You sighed, picked up your brother, and left the room.

Peter quickly followed behind you.

“So which superhero are you?” he asked.

“What?”

“Which hero are you?”

“I-I’m not a hero,” you stumbled.

Peter scoffed, “Are you kidding me? You have some of the coolest powers I have ever seen!”

You turned around quickly to face him. “Yes, I have powers. But they are dangerous. I’m not risking that.”

“Well that’s why you train. To gain control of your powers,” he said convincingly.

You sighed, “That would involve using my powers. I can’t do that. Not again.”

[jahaanofmenaphos]

Art by the awesome @tommieglenn!

Of Gods and Men Summary:

When the gods returned to Gielinor, their minds were only on one thing: the Stone of Jas, a powerful elder artefact in the hands of Sliske, a devious Mahjarrat who stole it for his own ends and entertainment. He claims to want to incite another god wars, but are his ulterior motives more sinister than that? And can the World Guardian, Jahaan, escape from under Sliske’s shadow?

Read the full work here:

ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN

FANFICTION.NET

TUMBLR CHAPTER INDEX

QUEST 03: LET SLEEPING GODS LIE

QUEST SUMMARY:

Jahaan stumbles upon a newly excavated chamber, one that a charismatic young stranger claims to be where Guthix resides under the earth. However, once this knowledge becomes commonplace, many different factions come to a head, either to protect the sleeping god, wake him, or destroy him…

CHAPTER 2: INVADERS MUST DIE

The two men dove out of the way as a blast of magical energy shot at them, breaking the stone behind where their heads just were. Each of the three creatures seemed to sport a different fighting style, making combat much more of a challenge as they all seemed intent on fighting simultaneously. Seeing Jahaan as the primary threat, they focused their energies on him. The young man darted and dashed between the statues and pillars in the room while Orlando cowered in the corner, praying that if he stood still enough they’d leave him be.

The melee-based monster began smashing the ground in a fury, creating earthquakes that caused Jahaan to lose his footing and tumble to the floor. He just about managed to scurry away before the creature could finish the job and crush him into the dirt beneath them.

Okay, gotta keep distance until that one is dealt with, Jahaan made a mental note to himself, sheathing his sword and quickly removing the quiver of arrows that was sticking up out of his backpack. Removing the longbow from around his shoulders, Jahaan quickly readied an arrow and, briefly poking out from behind his cover, began firing as quickly as he could load the arrows. The ones that hit its stone chest simply bounced off, but the ones that caught the bark that joined its limbs together seemed to cause the creature to falter. It wasn’t until Jahaan eventually (though if he was being honest, accidentally) caught the monster right in its eye did he truly find its weakness.

Jahaan kept his distance as much as possible, thankful that the slow creatures could only lumber towards him. It took almost all of his arrows and a lot of darting around the room to keep cover, but once enough arrows pierced through the creatures glowing eye, the light faded and the beast crumbled to the floor, breaking into hundreds of stone fragments as it fell.

With a satisfied and relieved smile, Jahaan quickly dropped his bow and arrow and unsheathed both his swords this time, charging at the two remaining automatons. Due to their reduced speed, coupled with the fact their attacks were most effective at long range, Jahaan could dash behind them, land a few decent hits, then retreat behind the safety of a pillar to catch his breath, before repeating the attack. The magic-based creature managed to catch him as he was heading back behind cover, sending him scattering to the ground. Thankful for his thick armour, no lasting damage was done and Jahaan could roll back to safety before they could follow up with a more damaging strike. Before long, the range-based automaton crumbled to the floor like its companion, leaving only the magic attacker for Jahaan to destroy.

If I catch his eye, he’s history, Jahaan reminded himself, hatching a plan. A dumb plan, as it involved going right into the line of fire, but a plan nonetheless. Dropping his sword to the ground, Jahaan took the small runite dagger from his belt and began weaving his way towards the automaton. After a few close shaves, he found himself in range and, with a mighty leap, swung and pierced the dagger right through the creatures eye. It recoiled, groaning in distress, before falling to its knees and crumbling into small fragments.

Once the final creature was defeated, the alarm ceased. The silence was beautiful.

Jahaan brushed himself off, trying to catch his breath.

“Wow, that was awesome, mate! Yes sir, yes it was!” Orlando exclaimed, bounding up to him. “The way you took ‘em down, oh boy, it was the stuff of mighty warriors, yes it was!”

Too exhausted to fully appreciate the ego boost, Jahaan could only manage a small smile, requesting, “Would you mind collecting my arrows? I might need them again.”

All-too happy to be of assistance, Orlando leapt to his task while Jahaan reclined against one of the statues. After putting away his arrows and gathering up his sword and bow, the two men made towards the door at the far end of the room. A small part of Jahaan regretted ever agreeing to be this archaeologist’s bodyguard - it clearly wasn’t good for his health - but a large part of him couldn’t help but be enthralled in the mystery they were uncovering. It was the only thing stopping him from turning back now and going to fish in the comfort of Catherby.

The grand door opened as soon as they approached. With a hand on his sword, Jahaan stepped through first, scouting the surroundings. After a full minute of utter silence, nothing seemed to be trying to kill them, so they deemed it safe to pass through.

However, as soon as they crossed the centre threshold on their way to the next doorway, a large green snake teleported into the room, its golden eyes in narrow slits, glaring daggers at them. Jahaan recognized the being from the carvings earlier in the tomb, realising the serpent standing before them must be Juna, a Guardian of Guthix.

Juna slithered forward, poised and ready to attack, ordering, “Leave now. You will go no further.”

Then, a skeletal hooded figure, draped in black, gripping a menacing scythe, teleported beside her. It was none other than Death himself.

Death drifted between them, his hands out in a calming manner. “Hold, Juna. I know this human. He is Jahaan Alsiyad-Abut, friend of Icthlarin of the Underworld, and thus a friend of mine. What are you doing here, Jahaan?”

“We came here looking for Guthix,” Jahaan informed. Then, it hit him. “I take it… wow. If you’re here, that means that this really is Guthix’s resting place.”

“It is,” Death confirmed. “We are here to protect him from those that would do him harm.”

“We ain’t here to hurt him, no sir!” Orlando maintained. Death seemed to furrow a brow at the excitable young man. Feeling like he’d forgotten his manners, Orlando hopped forward, his hand outstretched. “Name’s Orlando by the way. I’m the archeologist that helped discover this here cave, yes I did. Nice to meet ya, Death! Heard a lot about your work.”

Glancing at Orlando’s hand, Death pointedly ignored him and returned his focus back to Jahaan. “How did the doors open for you? No-one should be able to gain entry.”

“It must be Guthix’s doing,” Juna stated, a hiss to her words. “Nothing we have time to dwell on now. We do not have long. You must leave, humans.”

“Wait, not long before what?” Jahaan queried, now slightly worried.

Death explained, “This place has been undisturbed for thousands of years. When you entered, the Sword of Edicts began transmitting once more.”

A lump grew in Jahaan’s throat. “That alarm we set off in the cavern… it’s coming from the Sword?”

“Yes, the sword is transmitting. It has been since you triggered the system in Guthix's chambers. It's communicating with the stone circles across the world. When they were created, the stone circles were all in Guthixian hands; it would have been a very effective defense system.”

Orlando cried, “But they're not all in Guthixian hands now, no sir!”

“Indeed,” Juna acknowledged. “It will not be long until this chamber is invaded by our enemies. Guthix cannot be disturbed.”

“Would it be so bad if Guthix were to wake up?” Jahaan asked, cautiously.

Death replied, gravely, “Guthix has been asleep for so long. Even we - his closest followers - cannot predict how he would react to the world in its current state. The last time he awoke was… dramatic.”

“And if he died?” Orlando piped up, his tone too cheery to be believed. Death, Juna and Jahaan just stopped and stared at him for a moment, as if regarding a child.

“If he were to be killed,” Juna shuddered, faintly but noticeably. “Perish the thought… the edicts Guthix bestowed upon this world would cease to be, allowing the lesser gods to return to Gielinor. If that were to happen, another God Wars would undoubtedly commence, tearing the world apart once more.”

“We can’t let that happen,” Jahaan stated, his hand clutched around the grip of his sword. “It’s sorta my fault Guthix’s chamber was uncovered in the first place, so I’ll help to protect it.”

“Thank you, Jahaan,” Death said, “Icthlarin was right about you. You are a good man.”

Juna added, “And if he is here to protect our lord, then we have a common goal.”

Suddenly, Juna’s neck straightened to the ceiling and her eyes started glowing red. Taken aback, Jahaan and Orlando scurried next to Death, but he assured them everything was alright, explaining that Juna was getting a vision...

An imposing manor located east of Trollweiss Mountain, in the depths of the Wilderness, was the dark fort of the mighty Zemouregal, a powerful Mahjarrat servant of Zamorak.

Inside his private chambers, Zemouregal was staring intently into the mirror, practicing different variations of a scowl.

“No, too theatrical… too cliched…” he muttered to himself, shaking his head before trying another. “Well, now I just look like a horse.”

The winged abomination by the name of Sharathteerk barged the chamber, flanked by two dark robed humans; snapping around, Zemouregal's face seemed to be frozen on the horse-scowl, causing the robed humans to cower.

“Who gave you permission to enter?!” Zemouregal scolded, thankful his complexion didn’t allow his blush to be visible.

“M-My lord, I sincerely apologise, but this could not wait!” After bowing deeply, Sharathteerk announced, “My lord! The wizards have most intriguing news.”

Irritated at being bothered so late in the day, and still mildly embarrassed, Zemouregal urged, “Well? Speak quickly, welps. What is it?”

One of the dark wizards stammered in response, “S-s-sire, the circle. The stone circle at Varrock - it was glowing.”

Unable to look Zemouregal in the eye, the other one nervously continued, “And it let out such a sound! A great wailing, as if the stone itself were crying out! What does it mean, sire? Is Zamorak calling to us?”

“A wailing…” Zemouregal pondered. “This is beyond you. Be gone, and tell no one of this.”

After deep bows, the two dark wizards hurried to teleport away.

Sharathteerk was elated, in a maniacal way, at least, as he exclaimed, “You know what this means, sire! The alarm of the ancient chamber! Someone has discovered-”

“Guthix's refuge…” Zemouregal finished. “Never in my years did I think it possible. Sharatheerk, instruct the wizards to trace the signal to its source at once. And use any methods in your repertoire to ensure they work quickly. Guthix's edicts stop our Lord Zamorak returning. Imagine the glory of destroying Guthix, of breaking the edicts and bringing back Zamorak himself! Ha, that’ll show her!”

Sharathteerk furrowed his brows. “Who is ‘her’, my lord?”

“Um, n-nothing!” Zemouregal clenched his fists, trying to regain some semblance of his imposing and terrifying presence. “What are you waiting for? We must act with all haste! Go, now!”

Beneath the surface of Gielinor lies the so-called 'God Wars' caverns. There, generals of the gods continue the battle that was started thousands of years ago, oblivious to the passing of time. One such general was Commander Zilyana of Saradomin’s army.

A mage had informed her of the activities of the stone circles, causing Zilyana to gather two of her most trusted warriors as they set off from the dungeon of eternal warfare and towards Guthix’s final resting place.

“By Saradomin's word, we fly! Guthix will be destroyed, in the name of honour. For the return of our glorious Saradomin!”

The cheers of her army chorused as she flew off into the skies.

Juna’s head snapped back down to face them. “They’re on their way. Death, Contact the Void Knights. See if they can send a regiment over soon, though I fear by the time they arrive it will be too late. Time is of the essence. I will contact as many of the Guardians of Guthix as I can.”

“We must get into the Inner Sanctum,” Death stated. “However, the walls of the Inner Sanctum are impenetrable with magic. We can teleport no further. We must find a way to open this door, and I believe this contraption may be the way to do it.”

There was a small stone plinth beside the doorway with carvings of runes and other ancient languages scrawled onto it. It was the only noteworthy thing inside the chamber, so powers of deduction meant that it didn’t take much for them to figure out that this would open the door.

Or at least, so they thought.

Death placed his hands on the stone panel, but nothing seemed to happen - no light, no sound, no movement. Furrowing his brow, Death grew frustrated. “I do not comprehend.”

Orlando’s shoulders sagged. “How come you don’t know how to work this here thing? Ain’t you supposed to be some Guthix guardian or whatnot?”

“I am,” Death growled, backing off from the panel. “I do not understand why there is no reaction to my touch. Something should be occurring.”

Realising Juna was slightly limb-challenged, Jahaan took it upon himself to try and operate the control panel next. However, when he placed his hands on it, the panel started glowing and growing warmer. When he tried to move his hands, he found he was trapped, like he had been fused to the contraption.

Initially, he began to panic, until Juna calmed him down, explaining, “Do not fear. This is all as Guthix wills it.”

A green light engulfed Jahaan as he rose and then returned to the surface. As this was happening, the door to the Inner Sanctum opened.

Feeling fuzzy all over, Jahaan examined himself. “What… what just happened?”

“Guthix has given you his blessing,” Cres answered from the doorway of the Inner Sanctum. He looked similar to the automatons from before, only with glowing green symbols carved into his rocky chest. “He has chosen you as one of his creatures, a Guardian of Guthix.”

“An honour indeed,” a voice from behind them commented. Turning around, the group noticed a small group of white-robed figures had teleported into the previous room. Leading them, a decedent looking druid wearing a crown of leaves.

“Kaqemeex. I am so glad you could make it in time,” Death breathed a sigh of relief. “We are short on numbers as it stands.”

“Guthix be with you, Guardians,” he bowed his head slightly. “I have been in contact with the Valluta. She will be accompanied only by a small regiment, but arriving soon. There is a pest onslaught at present and she cannot spare the numbers.”

“Can’t spare the numbers for THIS?!” Jahaan cried, bewildered and outraged.

Kaqemeex shot him a look. “What good is a world overrun, hm? No. We will fight with what we have. We are stronger than our enemy, and we have Guthix on our side.”

“You have me too!” a chirpy voice came from the doorway. Turning to see its origin, Jahaan recognised it as belonging to Chaeldar, the highest slayer master in all of Gielinor, who just so happened to be a fairy.

Juna smiled. “It is good to see you again, Chaeldar.”

“And I,” Thaerisk, accompanied by his own druids, hurried into the chamber. When he saw Jahaan, he did a quick double-take. “My, we appear to be running into each other rather often, Jahaan.”

Wryly, Jahaan smiled. “I wish it were under better circumstances. Nice to see you again, Thaerisk.”

“Well, aren’t we just a ragtag bunch, set to defend the mighty Guthix, yes we are!” Orlando cheered. Everyone responded by giving him a look that screamed ‘shut up Orlando’, but no-one wasted their breath on the actual words.

Over the next few minutes, a handful more Guardians emerged, but not nearly as many as they would have liked. Morale was already at an all-time low when a large crash rocked the room.

“What was that?!” Orlando cried.

The Valluta, a giant tortoise and spiritual leader of the Void Knights, exclaimed, “They're breaking in already!”

Kaqemeex fretted, “We're sitting in the open. We have no organization!”

Stepping into the centre of the circle, Jahaan enthused, “Hold up, everyone. Think of it like this: if they’re already here then - like us - they wouldn’t have had much time to cobble together a formidable offence. All we have to do is hold them off this one time, and we can be better prepared with more defenders if they come back again. Guthix will be safe. We can do this.”

Death nodded. “Jahaan is right. We cannot have come this far to be defeated before the battle has even begun.”

Fiara, a giant earwig charged with defending the Fist of Guthix, declared, “We will stand and fight! For Guthix!”

“For Guthix!” the room chorused, those who had weapons drawing them in readiness.

“That's the spirit!” Jahaan cheered. “We'll show them what we're made of! First, we need to be prepared for them. Cres what can you tell me about this chamber? Any weak points? Resources we could use?”

Closing his eyes, Cres focused for a moment before replying, “My creations inform me that the points of breakthrough will be in the storage wings. That is where the loud crash came from earlier. There are four of them adjacent to this chamber, and the enemy will reach them first. They are smaller rooms than this. If we meet the enemy there, we will make a better defence.”

“Perfect. We should split up to defend each wing. Cres, you take your creations to one. Fiara and the Valluta, another. Chaeldar and Thaerisk, you'll need to work together. Death, Kaqemeex and the rest of you to the last. I'll help wherever I’m needed,” Jahaan organised, clutching tightly onto both his swords.

Kaqemeex frowned. “I’m afraid that, unlike Thaerisk, my druids and I have very little prowess in battle. We would be more of a hindrance than a help. We’ll remain in the main chamber, a last line of defence, where we can use the plant life around and the herbs we have brought with us to mix some healing potions.”

Jahaan nodded firmly. “Then I’ll team with Death.”

“I should stay in the main chamber to guard the passageway itself,” Juna declared. “Then if we-”

Another earthquake cut through the room, breaking Juna's speech mid-breath.

“No time for further deliberating,” Death summoned his mighty scythe. “Now, we fight! For Guthix!”

DISCLAIMER:

As Of Gods and Men is a reimagining, retelling and reworking of the Sixth Age, a LOT of dialogue/characters/plotlines/etc. are pulled right from the game itself, and this belongs to Jagex.

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[buckymorelikefuckmebarnes]

parallel

bucky x reader

warnings: sloooow burn, eventual smut, fluff, and a little angst

There is a theory out there, created by someone much smarter than I am, that says that we live a thousand lives, all parallel to the one we are living now.

What happens when you stumble onto that doorway?

6:30 am, 9th ave., Hell's Kitchen, New York

Why did you take the morning shift? You knew you were a night owl. After 8 months you still hadn't adjusted.

Coffee.

That's what you needed. You straightened your cap and adjusted the radio on your shoulder before stepping out of the cruiser and into Joe's Cafe.

There was a reason that this place was your favorite and it had very little to do with the mediocre coffee and quite a bit to do with the handsome man behind the counter. His dark hair was tied in a loose bun at the nape of his neck and he had a smile for every customer. You didn't know very much about him but that didn't stop you from fantasizing about having the nerve to ask him out someday.

James smiled at you as you stepped up to place your order.

“Morning officer, the usual?”

You nodded with a grateful smile.

You were in here every morning before your shift and you always ordered the same thing. No reason to read too far into him remembering your order. You scolded yourself.

He punched in your order and you took a seat near the counter. Your mind started to wander as you tried to keep your eyes from his face.

James was a vet. That much you knew from eavesdropping on a conversation he was having with customer one day. Lost his arm to bad infection from a piece of shrapnel. Would have been a lot worse if his friend hadn't pulled him to cover when he did. But he wasn't about to let it hold him back.

You glanced down at your watch. You had 15 minutes before you had to take over for Amanda.

James called your name and sat the cup on the counter, throwing an extra smile your way before taking the next person in lines order. You grabbed the cup and made your way to the door. The small smile on your face grew as you took a look at the messy handwriting on the cup.

Meet me here after your shift?

:) James

A real excitement bubbled up in your chest as you pulled away from the curb and you had to hold in the noise that normally came with it until you were sure you were out of sight.

You could feel the smile on your face as you walked through the station to Amanda's desk. From the tired look on her face you could tell that she'd had a rough night. You cleared your throat, leaning on the corner of her desk to get her attention.

“Ugh! It has been a night.” She complained as she stretched her arms over her head. “Give me just a second to finish this report.” Her fingers flew across the keyboard for a few moments and then her eyes were back on you.

“What are you so smiley about?” She asked tilting her head to the side.

“Nothing, Manda. What is going on?”

She squinted her eyes at you before starting to speak again. “A few home invasions. No one hurt. Nothing taken, a decent amount of damage though.

You raised a startled eyebrow at her.

“There was no sign of forced entry, and no suspects.” You watched her face fall. “We can't seem to figure out how they got in or out. All of the doors and windows were locked. It's crazy.” She scrubbed her hands against her face.

“Fingerprints?” You asked, feeling yourself being sucked into the mystery of it all.

“None that we have on file.”

You let out a huff. “Well, if we don't have anything to go off of hopefully when can catch the guy in the act.”

“That sounds like your problem for the next few hours.” She stated pushing away from her desk. “I'm gonna try to catch some sleep. Oooooh. What's this?” She asked, picking up your cup.

“Nothing.” You responded, your thoughts preoccupied with the home invasions.

“Doesn't look like James would call it nothing.” She said teasingly.

You smiled up at her. The name breaking you from your trance. “Nothing yet, that is.” You wiggled your eyebrows in a way you knew would make her laugh.

You were rewarded with a small giggle before she grabbed her purse. “Good luck, honey. Be safe out there.”

10:00 am, 51st street, Hell's Kitchen, New York

You were pretty sure that it had been 10am for two hours. The day was going by slower than you could handle. You tried to deal with it by letting your mind wander but your thoughts kept going back to James. The butterflies in your stomach were distracting until a call came over the radio. The dispatcher said that there was a call from Stella Tower on west 50th. A woman in the neighboring apartment heard what sounded like fighting. You were the closest available unit.

10:40 am, Midtown Precinct South, Hell's Kitchen

“I turned on the siren and made my way through traffic. In just a few minutes I was close enough to park the car along the sidewalk and make my way inside. I found the apartment quickly. From the sounds coming from the other side of the door the fight was still going on. I was able to push into the room and I was shocked by the destruction around me. Broken furniture and shattered mirrors surrounded two men who were still beating the shit out of each other. One was in what I could only describe as a magician's costume and the other looked, well he looked like he was made of rock. I called for backup and made my way towards the men. I called out warnings but the men ignored me. The magician guy spun his hand and kicked the rock guy into a shimmering, god was it a portal or a doorway?”

You put your head into your hands.

Retelling the story to your superiors was humiliating. You sounded like a lunatic.

“I think you should go home for the rest of the day, you obviously saw something traumatic and your brain isn't letting you process it. We'll talk to you tomorrow morning and see if you need to be put on administrative leave.”

Your mouth popped open in shock but no words came out.

“We'll see you at 7 tomorrow. Get out of here and get some rest.”

You nodded and grabbed your bag, leaving your radio and cap in the top drawer of your desk. You stepped out into the street and called a cab to take you home.

11:30 am, your apartment

You were laying across the width of your bed trying to make sense of the day when your stomach growled and an idea hit you like a freight train.

You got dressed and grabbed two slices of pepperoni pizza from the pizza parlor next to Joe's. You peeked in to see James leaning on the counter talking to a customer with a smile on his face. You took a deep breath and squared your shoulders before opening the door.

The bell above you chimed lightly. James looked up and smiled at you. He saw the take out containers in your hands and raised an eyebrow at you before turning towards the back of the shop.

“Hey Trent! I'm gonna head out for lunch real quick. Can you keep an eye out up front?” He yelled as he untied his apron and threw it on the counter.

Trent's mumbled reply must have been a 'yes' because James wasted no time leading you to the tables in front of the store.

“So you couldn't wait?” He joked.

“Um... no. I had a surprise afternoon off and I figured if I didn't do it now I wouldn't. Plus I needed to take my mind off of work for a bit.”

“Rough day.”

“You wouldn't believe me if I told you.”

You two talked for his entire lunch break and ended up trading cell phone numbers before parting ways. There was a skip in your step as you walked back to your apartment. You sent a text to Amanda, knowing that she would be curious tonight when she came in to work.

Hey. Some crazy shit happened this morning at work. They sent me home. Might be off for a while. However, had lunch with James just now. So the day wasn't a total loss. Text me when you get up.

You made it to your apartment and without anything else to do you settled in to watch Netflix and nap.

You woke up nearly 6 hours later with a stiff neck and 7 text messages from Amanda, each getting more desperate for details before dropping down into a more serious tone.

Lunch with James. Ooh ;)

Tell me more.

Wait! They sent you home?

What happened?

Y/N! Don't leave me hanging!

Just talked to the captain.

Doesn't look like they are going to want you in tomorrow. What did you see?

There was also a voicemail from Captain Martin asking you to return his call.

You sighed and dialed his phone number.

“Y/N?” He asked across the line.

“Yes, sir? You asked me to call.”

“Yeah. I think it would be best if you took the rest of the week off. Rest up your mind before you come back Monday.”

You stuttered into the phone for a few seconds before forming an answer. “Yes, sir. I'll see you Monday.”

The line went dead and you started to wander your apartment aimlessly. After a while you started to clean up and organize the mess that a full work life had left you with.

By the time you had gathered up the last load of laundry your stomach was growling like crazy, you grabbed the baskets you sat on the floor in the living room and headed to the 24-hour laundry place down the road.

You scrolled through Facebook on your phone while you waited for a set of washers to open up. On a whim you decided to search for James. It didn't take long for you to find him and you spent a good five minutes scrolling through his profile. You went to send him a friends request when your phone vibrated.

Hey. Dinner tomorrow night? X James

You smiled as you typed out your reply.

Sounds great. Tomorrow at 7?

You stuck your phone into your bag and tossed your laundry in a freshly emptied washer. Your stomach rumbled and you glanced out the windows, looking for something quick to eat.

You spotted a sandwich shop down the street and headed towards it. The sun was setting behind the buildings and you wrapped your arms around your torso to battle the early evening chill. You hadn't gotten far when you heard a woman scream. You took off running full speed towards the sound, you dialed 911 and gave the information you had to dispatch. You hung up and found the source of the sound. A frightened looking elderly woman was pointing down a nearby alley that had a faint gold glow.

“mostro, mostro e strega!” The woman cried out in italian and you ran towards the glow.

The two men from earlier seemed to still be going at it.

This has to be some kind of joke. You thought to yourself as you charged towards them. You knocked one of the men through the portal from earlier before it closed behind you. You stood, prepared for a fight as the magician dusted off his robes.

“What the hell was that?” He asked, clearly annoyed that you had stopped the violence.

“Excuse me?” You asked, anger creeping into your voice. “You have been causing so much trouble! I got suspended because of you and your stupid rock buddy. Wait. Where am I?” You took in the scene around you. The area looked familiar but you were certain that you had never been in such a dodgy area before. A sudden feeling of unease filled your stomach and you started to panic. The man stood in front of you with a knowing smirk on his face.

“You're in another dimension... and handling it quite well I might add.”

Your vision started fading and the man's voice sounded like it was under water. Your legs buckled and your body hit the pavement below you.

[gldngrl7]

Karamel Fic: Ruination (1 of 6)

Title: Ruination

Author: gldngrl7

Started: January 5, 2017

Rating: Explicit

Chapters: 6

Disclaimer: It should come as no surprise that I do not own Supergirl or ANY DC Comics character herein.  Morgon Ral is all me though, so hands off my precious baby!

Author’s Notes:  I’m back!  Here’s the first installment of the second story of what I’m calling the ‘Hanging On, Letting Go’ series.

Again, this story is explicit in nature and this time to explicit talk is not confined to a single chapter, so reader beware!  Dom/sub undertones continue and will continue throughout the series as they push their limits. I will try to be gentle to neophyte readers though.

Many, many thanks to @baskingintheinsanity for the beta read and all the lovely chats we’ve been having.  I adore you, and wish all the very best for you.

Ao3 link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9423479/chapters/21332123 Chapter: 1/6

                           I'm a little unsure how it got so complicated

                                     If I let go I know, I'll regret it

                          Every heart that I held before

                                    I was sure to break it

                         --Jason Derulo – “Cheyenne”

 Loathe to leave her side, he regrets dragging himself from the heat of her bed and her arms; from the soft brush of her breath on his shoulder. He’d like nothing more than to stay until she wakes, to kiss away her inevitable morning-after awkwardness before taking her once more in the light of the morning sunrise.

He’d give anything to hear her cry his name against his ear as he rocks his body into hers, the morning light streaming through the window to illuminate the slight sheen of sweat building up on their skin.  He’s had her, and now there’ll never be any going back.

“Tick-tock, brother,” Ral’s voice drags Mon-El from his reverie. Mon-El doesn’t know how long he’s been standing at the end of her bed watching her sleep.  In her sleep, she shifts to her stomach, burying her forearms under her pillow and settling against the soft down.  Her bed sheet has shifted, leaving her back bare, a gorgeous canvas of flawless skin, as her golden curls spill off to one side.  He’d sell his soul to kiss his way up her spine.

At some point he got dressed on autopilot, and blew out all the still-burning candles in the room from last night, their leftover ambience.  “What’s that story about the princess and the clock striking midnight?” Ral asks.

“I don’t remember.”

“Well you’re about to turn into a radish, princess.”

“Pumpkin,” he corrects, his brain also on autopilot. “And that was the carriage.”

“See…I knew you remembered.”

Mon-El opens his mouth to reply before he thinks better of it. Outside, the morning sky is beginning to lighten and he’s going to have to tear himself away from this wonderful view of her if he wants to make it back to the DEO in time for his mandated check-in.  He slips out of her room, wondering how someone who can hear a cry for help from a dozen miles away can sleep so soundly even when the sounds of the city awakening already echo in his ears.  Debating his best exit strategy, he elects the window she uses when leaving for ‘emergencies’, rather than departing through the front door—which would require leaving the door unlocked.   There’s just one more thing.

He sneaks back into her bedroom, depositing a remembrance on the pillow beside her. She will wake up with the gift of knowing that the night meant something to him.  He tucks the comforter more firmly around her back so she won’t get cold before slipping out the door.  Squeezing out of her living room window, he closes it as best as he can behind him, checking the street for dog walkers and early morning joggers before dropping the four stories to land on the pavement below. Thanks to Kara, he’s learned a thing or two about prudence.

****

 Kara wakes with sunshine streaming through her floor-to-ceiling plate-glass window and startles with how late it is already.  She rarely sleeps past the first hour of sunrise, her energy typically more manic after a good night’s sleep.

But this morning is different.

Her body is more tired than usual,  deliciously so.  Reaching a hand across the bed, Kara expects to find him there, but instead his space on the mattress is empty and cold.  Empty for a while then, she concludes.  Kara’s heart sinks at the discovery.  How long had he stayed after she’d fallen into a deep asleep?

Wiping the drowsiness from her eyes, she spots something on the pillow beside her.  There, where his head was rested only hours before, lay three delicate flowers. Forget-me-nots. She debates if that is a plea from him for her not to forget what passed between them or a gesture meant say he will not forget.

Either way, Kara smiles dreamily at the tiny blue and pink blossoms. He left her asleep, but didn’t want her to think he was just leaving her.  Placing the flowers on her bedside table, she stretches her arms over her head, working out the twinges and kinks left in the aftermath of a long night of repeated lovemaking. Kara attempts to suppress the spread of the grin across her face by biting her lower lip, but it’s like trying to subdue a high tide. The feeling is too strong.

Her wistfulness is impolitely disturbed by the discordant buzzing of her phone on the bedside table. The noise effectively extinguishing her morning afterglow, Kara reaches over to answer it, nearly toppling a candle, the lamp, and a picture frame in her haste.  Her sister’s voice comes over the line before Kara can even place the phone to her ear.

“I’ve been waiting for you to call me since last night!” Alex admonishes. “Are you still in bed?”

Kara snuggles further into the warmth of her nest, pulling the comforter over her head.  “Yes,” she pouts.

Trying to kick her brain into gear and failing miserably, Kara’s only thought, in the darkness created by the covers, is that he should be on the other side of the bed, dragging her into his arms and touching every part of her naked skin that he can reach.  Her body yearns for it.  Kara sighs sadly.  It’s as if it had all been a dream – a glorious dream.  But she’s naked and definitely no longer a virgin. She can feel it.

“Get your butt out of bed and come open the door, slacker.  I brought donuts and coffee.”

Kara’s stomach growls viciously, as if to remind her that sex isn’t the only basic necessity in her life.  If she didn’t know any better she’d say that her stomach is currently jealous of…other parts of her.  She crawls out of bed and roots around for her robe before remembering it was discarded in the living room last night. So in its stead she throws on her crumpled nightgown.  She picks up the robe, donning it en-route to the door and finishes tying the sash just as her sister enters.

Alex looks her up and down and smirks.  “You look…ravished.”

“Feed me,” Kara demands, reaching for the donut box.  Alex hands over the box of assorted sugary treats without resistance, preferring not to cause an international incident.  Kara takes the box and the offered cup of coffee and retreats with them back to the kitchen island.

She tears a handful of paper towels off the roll on the counter before digging into the box and selecting an overstuffed, raspberry, jelly-filled pastry.

“So…Mon-El checked back into the DEO this morning safe and sound,” Alex informs her with a grin that grows wider as she adds, “Five minutes late.”

Kara nearly chokes on her bite of donut.  “He was late?” she asks.  “Is he in trouble?”  So he hadn’t left as soon as she’d fallen asleep sometime around 2 AM.  The deepest parts of Kara’s belly perform a series of backflips and her heartrate picks up speed, but he refuses to figure out why.

“Relax,” Alex reassures her, holding out her hand in a well-honed diplomatic gesture.  “We don’t send out tactical teams for tardiness.  The point I was trying to make is that he must have left at the very last minute.”  Ever observant, she tilts her head toward the living room window, cracked open a few inches. “And he left by the window, I see. How very ‘Romeo’ of him.  So…was he?”

“Was he what?” she stalls, her mouth full of raspberry jam. It’s too much to expect a girl to snack and dish.

“Was he…Romeo?” Her voice is filled with barely restrained concern.

Kara glances away from her sister, wishing for all the world that she could avoid Alex’s razor sharp scrutiny.  During Sister Night, she had promised Alex to inform her of how everything went with Mon-El, but in the warm light of morning, she was hesitant to speak. Last night hadn’t been what she was expecting, and Kara still doesn’t quite know what to do with that.  Part of her wants to keep it to herself for the time being, hold it in cupped hands like a fragile ember on a windy night. Just for her.

“C’mon!” Alex protests.  “Do I need to go shoot his ass, or what?”

“Please don’t.”  With Kara’s state of mind the way it is—all a jumble—she decides maybe it would be best, healthy even, to talk about it.  At least some of it.  “I like his…a-ass…just the way it is.”  Heat rises in her cheeks with the use of the coarse word, her mouth stumbling on it.

Alex had always been the bold one- the first one to curse in front of their parents, the first to stay out past curfew, the first to break the rules. Kara knew it was Alex’s subconscious way of garnering parental attention in a house with an alien sister that seemed to demand the lion’s share of it.  She never begrudged Alex her little rebellions, in fact, she had always admired them, hero-worshipping her sister from the beginning.

Kara, on the other hand, was the opposite.  Always following the rules.  Never talking back, even when she wanted to.  Never picking up the curse words that the kids at school relished throwing around like bouncing balls they’d lob at one another.  Never staying out past her curfew – never giving Eliza or Jeremiah a reason to worry.

She supposes it’s a function of being—essentially—a foster child. Don’t rock the boat.  Don’t be more trouble than your worth.  Don’t give them any reason to send you away.  On the outside, she never doubted her place in the Danvers’ household, but deep within she feared that one wrong move would pull that ostensibly safe, secure rug out from under her.

“Well that’s an interesting development,” Alex notes.

“It’s just a word, Alex,” Kara scoffs, trying to play it off.

“I wasn’t talking about that.”  Alex’s brain shifts for a second, as though replaying the conversation over in her head.  “Although…now that you mention it.”

“I want more,” Kara blurts, wiping powdered sugar from her lips with the paper towel crunched in her hands.

Alex takes a chocolate covered donut for herself before sliding the box across the counter to her.  “That’s why I brought you a dozen.  Minus one.”

“Not donuts,” Kara says.  Though she blindly grabs another donut as if to belie her own words.  “Mon-El,” she confesses.

Kara takes a huge bite of the Boston cream pie donut, and when the filling floods her mouth, she can’t help but have flashbacks to some of last night’s activities.  With the ring finger of her right hand she demurely and deliberately wipes a dab of vanilla filling from the corner of her mouth, while a dampness secretly springs forth between her legs.  Rao! Horny from eating a donut!  If Mon-El were here right now she would climb him like Mount Everest.

“Are you serious right now?” Alex asks, a look of incredulity on her face. “This is Mon-El we’re talking about still?  The guy you disliked the moment you found out he was from Daxam?  The planet of Hedonists?”

Kara’s lips press together, one eye squeezing shut in her cute, awkward way as she recalls that regrettable memory.  She’d been a snob and a hopeless prude, in that way that virgins who don’t know the call of the flesh can be on occasion, when their own attractions frighten them.  “Well…maybe…Hedonism can have its place,” she suggests.  She might consider rethinking some of her old beliefs since last night. She never could have imagined this…agreement…would make her question so many things.

Alex barks a laugh, bending over at that waist and placing her hands on her knees.  It’s a laughter that’s much bigger than her size would suggest her capable of. Kara’s skin heats up again, but this time it’s not from remembered intimacies, it’s from the embarrassment that comes from being laughed at.

“What did he do to you?” Alex queries, laughter still spilling out her mouth like a rum barrel with a leak in it.  

Kara watches her sister and waits for the laughter to trickle off. Like last night, this isn’t going at all as expected.  Her beloved sister is plodding through her afterglow with dirty boots and leaving tracks all over the floor.   In defense of her beautiful night, her first sexual experience, and in defense of the—she now finds—incredible man who provided it to her, Kara is struck with the inexorable need to wipe the smile from her sister’s face.

“Nothing I didn’t happily beg for,” she says proudly, adding a defiant flip of her curls for good measure.

Mission accomplished.

Stunned, the smile slips from Alex’s face and a crimson blush encroaches upon her neck as well.  “So, it was…good…then?”  

As close as the sisters were, they were not used to talking about these things. She had never, before now, had anything to talk about.

“It was spectacular.  Thank you for asking.”  Kara takes a sip from her coffee and then sets her mouth in a firm line.  Alex can feel the tension pull taut like guide wire. “Everything I could have asked for.”

“I’m sorry about laughing,” Alex apologizes, hoping to put her sister at ease.  “I just never thought—“

“Well, neither did I,” Kara cuts her off.  She wishes Mon-El were here right now, so that he could take her in his arms and stroke away the emotion she feels welling up in her right now. But she doesn’t know if that’s even something he would do now—if that’s who they are now.  And Kara finds that not knowing is scarier than losing her virginity.  Her throat tightens and she turns away from her sister before tears can fall down her cheeks.  Kara wipes away the singular droplet that escapes her control. She’s never liked showing her tears.

“Hey, c’mon,” Alex’s voice softens.  Even turned away, Alex recognizes the dejected slump in her sister’s shoulders.  “Talk to me. If everything went so well, why are you upset?  It can’t just be about me laughing.”

“He was gone when I woke up this morning,” Kara whispers.

“He had to—“

“I know.”

“But that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt a little,” the older woman surmises.

Kara nods.  “And now I’m confused.   He was so sweet,” she tells her sister.   “Telling me that he wanted to win my heart – wanted to do what it takes to be the kind of man I deserve.  But what does that mean?  He wants to be with me today?  Tomorrow? Some day in the distant future?”

“Is there reason to think he wasn’t telling you the truth?”

“Oh, the truth!” Kara exclaims.  “He totally remembers the kiss, by the way.”

“I figured he might—“

“Confessed the whole thing to me, right where you’re standing.  He said that he lied because he didn’t want me to be embarrassed by him.  Embarrassed by him!”

“Well there have been a few times when you weren’t exactly—“

It comes flooding back to her, like a montage of moments –all the moments when she’d tried to fit him into this tiny mold of what she wanted him to be.  But now…now she’s realizing that he’s so much bigger than any mold she could make for him.

“Oh no, Alex!  I was embarrassed by him, and disappointed. Embarrassed because he wasn’t fitting in, and because he wasn’t doing the things I wanted him to do.  He lost everything, Alex.  He came here with nothing but the clothes on his back and memories of a long dead world and what did I do?  Get a job, Mon-El!  Wear these glasses, Mon-El!  Become a hero, Mon-El!  Stop beating people up for money, Mon-El!” she rambles.

“I think you might have been right about the last one,” Alex tries and fails to interrupt the rant.

“I could have been more compassionate.  I could have done more to help him find his way, instead of assuming that he should make the same choices I have.  I gave him impossible standards to meet.  I set him up for failure from the start.  I am an awful, awful person.”

“You might be overstating things a bit.”

“And by some miracle he’s forgiven me for all of it,” Kara shakes her head. “Which just confuses me even more because I still don’t know what last night means.  It was just supposed to be a one-time thing and now….”

“You don’t want it to be.”

Kara shakes her head but remains silent, a condition Alex finds incredibly disconcerting.  She takes the opportunity to attempt to ease her concerns.

“Kara,” Alex says softly, approaching her sister as if she might fold with the slightest provocation.  “I think you’re unspooling a little bit, so I’m going offer you a little advice, okay?”  With Kara’s nod, she continues.  “I know that my love life has been kind of a mess, but here it goes: Mom once told me…when we were having ‘the talk’, ‘Don’t confuse sex with love, Alex.  It’s the most dangerous thing you can ever do.’  Now…I’m not saying that what you and Mon-El shared wasn’t real or that it didn’t mean something profound.  I wasn’t there; it’s not for me to judge.  What I am saying is that it’s okay not to be sure right now.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.  I’m pretty sure I’m right about this.”  Alex chuckles lightly, but not in a mocking sort of way.  “You’ve had this whole new world open up to you overnight.  It can be overwhelming and emotional and terrifying and exhilarating; or any combination of those all at once. Believe me…I know!   Of course you have questions. But I don’t think you should make any assumptions right now… about what it all might mean, for you or for him.  There’s no reason to push this, sis.”

“So what do I do?”

“You have to figure that out for yourself.  But…if you want to have sex with him again, then have sex with him again.  Scratch that itch, I say.  It’s your right.”  Alex speaks with the assertion of woman who’s spent her fair share of time lately scratching her own itch.

“That’s what he said last night.  That it was my right to demand my needs be met.”

“Sounds like he’s on the right track.  For once.”  Alex couldn’t resist getting in that last dig at Mon-El.  For good or for bad, the Daxamite was a part of Kara’s—their—lives now, and she needed to get used to that. Especially if this thing between them became something more, which she had a feeling it might.  Alex didn’t want her impressions of Mon-El to become a roadblock in her relationship with her sister.

Kara rolls her eyes.

“But think about this, too: don’t have sex with him because you believe you have something to apologize for or that you owe him.  And don’t have sex with him because you might have made some special connection when you were together.  If you do it, make sure you’re doing it for the right reasons, and be honest with yourself about what those reasons are.  And honest with him. Because one thing I do know, Kara, is that expectations can kill a relationship, especially in the beginning when it’s all fresh.  Unless you’re on the same page, and you can take the time to figure that out.  Don’t be pushy.  Keep it light. I’m sure the situation will work itself out before you know it.”

“I hope so.”

“And if you really want to know how he feels about all of it, just ask him, Kara.”

She smiles at her sister’s advice but somehow thinks she’s not quite ready to be that brave yet.

“Now, finish your donuts and take a shower.  You have a training session scheduled with the new recruits in an hour and you can’t come in smelling of sex.  I’m already running late.  I’ll meet you there, right?”

“Right,” Kara sighs, giving her sister a look for the tease.  The last thing she wants to do is spend an afternoon throwing green recruits around the training room, while trying not to break them permanently.  

“Hey, sis,” Alex calls before opening the door.

“Yes?”

“You really are glowing,” Alex offers.  An olive branch.  “The Daxamite must have done something right.  Can’t wait to throw him a wink next time I see him.”

Kara laughs, the feeling like a rose unfurling in her chest, some of her frustration melting away.  Sister talks are good for that.  And Alex would do it, she had no doubt.  Just to see the look on his face.  Kara wishes she could be there to see it too.  “You’ll have to tell me how that works out.”

“I will.  See you in an hour.”

“An hour,” she echoes, as Alex closes the door behind her.

TBC