#...damn it I did not think about the title until after I hit post. Now im gonna have the Supremes song stuck in my head >:(
Note
Wow I just read your recent story and it's so good! 🤩
If it's okay, can I also request something? 😗👉👈 if your requests are now closed, just disregard this.
But basically, I just wanted to know your take on Ominis and MC's first ever fight. Maybe while they're still Hogwarts students or as a married couple, and why they fought in the first place. Maybe jealously? Or Ominis' family trying to arrange his marriage? Idk, it's your call! 🥰 thank you so much!
Thank you so much, I'm so glad you enjoyed it! I had a lot of fun writing it. I had such a great weekend filled with answering really fun asks and fic requests, I’m really happy you decided to send this. :)
OOH THE DRAMA~ I’ve thought about this quite a bit. For Isabel and Ominis in particular, they had their tiffs in school when they were both dumb teenagers, but never anything truly major. Their first true fight was shortly after they were married. I’m glad I finally got an ask that pushed me to stop putting this off.
I’m still hesitant to use Isabel’s name in stories, I know it can be understandably off-putting to read someone else’s MC name in a ship-based story like this, so I’m continuing the tradition of using “MC.” :)
In the Name of Love
AO3 Link
MC learns about a deal Ominis struck to keep the Gaunts from finding them again
Ominis x fem!MC
SFW
MC and Ominis have an argument, that's it that's the post lol. Mention of Crucio being used and its effects.
Word count: 2,131
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
MC and Ominis had spent the past few days in a haze of perfect happiness in their new home. Each morning, they awoke next to one another and wondered if it was a dream. Sleepy, affectionate touches turned to blissful lovemaking, and the pair would eventually leave their cozy nest for a late breakfast before spending the rest of the day at each other’s side. When evening came, they would find themselves back in bed, curled up in the safety and comfort of each other’s arms.
The real world was gradually creeping back into their lives, however, and they knew they could not spend every day thinking only of each other forever; the world would not stop for two newlywed lovers mere days into their marriage.
It had been a warm, sunny June day when the two had finished a particularly late breakfast. A sleek owl darted in through an open window and, with a perfunctory flap, dropped a letter on the coffee table where the pair were happily chatting over post-breakfast tea in the drawing room. The owl perched on the edge of the table and looked expectantly between the envelope, MC and Ominis. Confused, MC tried to shoo it off, but it snapped at her and looked down again at the letter.
“It seems the sender didn’t want you to ignore their letter,” Ominis commented nonchalantly. “It must be quite important if their owl wants to confirm you’ve read it.”
“Surly little beast.” MC glared at the owl as she leaned forward to take the letter, and the owl ruffled its feathers as it glared back. MC turned the envelope over and stopped.
“It’s a Ministry of Magic seal... What could they possibly want from us?” MC muttered while opening the envelope and pulling out two pieces of paper. Beside her, Ominis froze.
“Dear Ominis and MC,” she began aloud, “per our verbal agreement on the sixth of June, 1895, your protection has begun immediately. Henceforth, please expect owls at any time of day or night, as your responsibilities are of the utmost importance and urgency. We understand, per our conversation, that you will be conducting your own business during daylight hours. While we make every effort to accommodate, we cannot guarantee a total lack of conflicts. Any failure to respond appropriately to official Ministry requests will result in immediate termination of your protection. Attached, please find details on your first assignment. For every assignment, Ministry officers will be awaiting you at the prescribed location and time to assist in answering questions and providing further instruction. We look forward to a mutually beneficial working relationship. Kindly destroy this letter upon receipt. Regards, Ministry of Magic, Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”
MC barely noticed the owl make an inconvenienced screech before it flapped out the open window. She frowned in confusion. “Protection? And why was this supposed agreement the day before our wedding? Unless…”
MC turned to look at Ominis with a deeply worried expression. He had somehow turned even paler than normal. “Ominis… what happened that night?”
“Do you not remember?” Ominis replied faintly.
“It was awful… I remember the both of us being kidnapped by your family,” MC replied, her voice growing quiet. Reflexively, she moved closer to Ominis’ comforting presence as she struggled to recall the flashes of still images her mind had not blocked from that night. “I remember your mother threatening me, and then… that must have been when you said she cursed me. I don’t remember anything more... Ominis, what happened?” She asked again, more desperate.
Ominis hung his head and turned away. His icy blue eyes were even more distant than usual. His next words were almost stammered as he nervously recounted that night. “I thought you knew... Your screams—Merlin, I have never heard a worse sound in my life. I knew the pain you were feeling, and I could not bear to stand by and let it happen a second time. I did the only thing I could think to do: I took you and ran. I made it to the Ministry—floo powder, I believe; some details are difficult for even me to remember... I talked to the first auror I found and told her what had happened. She agreed to help until she learned who was hunting us. She suddenly grew quiet and refused to help. She even dared to say there was no substantive proof you were the victim of an unforgivable curse. Eventually I found myself in the office of a higher-up of sorts—Merlin, I never even got his name. He had heard of you and the fact you saved Hogwarts with your ancient magic abilities and was interested. I hated that he thought only of your ancient magic. I convinced him to protect us from my family, but he demanded we return the favor and help the Ministry with whatever tasks the aurors are too overwhelmed to address.”
MC stared into space, a small frown on her face as she processed the torrent of words from her husband. Finally, she looked up at him.
"I... why? And why did you not ask me about this?" she asked, the pain and confusion abundant in her voice.
Ominis took a deep, shaky breath. "My family may not be wealthy anymore, but they are still well-connected—a few of them are likely somewhere in the Ministry. If word got out that the Ministry was actively meddling in Gaunt family affairs, well, I can only imagine how that confrontation would go…" Ominis searched for her hand resting on the couch next to him and held it in both of his hands. "And anyway, you were completely unresponsive. I tried to ask you how you were feeling, but you didn't say anything. The medics at the Ministry told me you were pale as a ghost.”
Ominis paused and drew another uneven breath, apparently collecting himself. “You were in shock, darling. Anyone would be after a Cruciatus curse. But I apologize. I should have reminded you what happened there at the Ministry office.”
MC's voice slowly rose. "You used my ancient magic as a bargaining chip? How are you any better than that Ministry officer? And now we owe the Ministry a large debt—and it sounds as if it was not the most legitimate agreement, either. Whether you had told me the day after or next week, the fact of the matter is that I was not part of a decision that has dramatically changed both our lives.”
MC shifted, and Ominis felt an infinitesimal attempt to slip her hand from his grasp. His heart faltered for half a moment.
"It was the only thing I could think of. I don't want you to ever have to go through something like that in the future. I cannot bear the thought of ever hearing you under that curse again." Ominis’ voice quieted, but it had little effect.
MC huffed and stood up, leaving Ominis’ hands empty on the couch. "Could it not have waited until I could at least give my consent? I have to face the consequences of your decision too, you know. We could have come up with a solution together—we could have discussed it as a couple."
"Then what do you propose we do to keep my family away from you—from us both? And what about our future children?" Ominis glared, hurt. "What could just the two of us do against the entire House of Gaunt, who are now enraged that an outsider would dare marry their defiant son?"
"That very ancient magic you gambled has gotten us out of countless situations," MC snapped.
"You don't understand their power, MC," Ominis protested sharply. "We have fought poachers, backwoods dark wizards and a small, disorganized goblin army in the safety of Hogwarts Valley. The power of my family, however undeserved, has been honed as long as Hogwarts has existed. I couldn't risk another minute of them following us and finding you. I had to make a decision for us both. Between more criminals and my family, the Ministry's offer seemed the lesser of two evils.”
MC gave a sharp, exasperated sigh and paced the room. "I can fend for myself, Ominis. We don't know how they would have fared against my abilities."
"And I hope we never find out," Ominis nearly shouted. "Have you forgotten that you were kidnapped by Rookwood shortly after starting school? What about your close brush with death fending off Ranrok? Professor Fig died protecting you.”
Just as quickly as Ominis felt his temper flare, it cooled again and his voice grew gentler. “MC, you are incredibly powerful, and I am constantly in awe of your abilities, but you do not understand the Gaunts' ability to hurt and kill. The fact that my mother alone caught you off guard does not bode well."
Ominis knew the silence that followed was anything but good. He slowly opened his mouth, but MC spoke before he could ask about what she was thinking.
"This is the same quarrel we had countless times in school—it mattered not if I went out puffskein-catching or saved Hogwarts; you argued I was getting into too much trouble and guarded me like a mother hen. Why do you insist on being overprotective and making these decisions for me?"
"Because I love you," Ominis blurted, his voice defeated. His brows knit together and tears welled in his eyes. MC stopped and stared at him.
“I love you so dearly,” Ominis continued, “and I won't stand by and let you endanger your very life for people like my family. I could never live with myself if I risked your safety by allowing them near you again."
With a sigh, Ominis stood and gently picked up his wand. He walked to the door and stopped before turning back towards MC, who remained inscrutably still and silent. "You are the strongest person I have ever met. You are fearless and protective, and I have always admired your bravery. That is precisely why I feel the need to defend you in return. I cannot simply let you die or be hurt needlessly if I can help it—and certainly not by my own family. I don't know what I would do if I lost your laughter or your loving embrace. Waking up to a half-empty bed every morning would break me. I need you.”
The soft, mournful smile that spread across Ominis’ face reminded MC of the same smile he often wore in school when they first met. “I’m sorry I made such an overwhelming decision without you, and I understand why you are upset about it. I’m sorry I did not tell you sooner. I won’t tell you how to feel. I only ask that you hear me when I tell you why I did it: I cannot risk losing the love of my life."
Ominis had nearly crossed the threshold when MC called out to him.
"Ominis, wait," she said gently. "Come here."
Ominis turned and hesitantly moved towards her. She took his free hand in hers and sat down, guiding him to sit beside her.
"Thank you," she murmured with a sigh. "I am still not pleased about this situation, but I am grateful to know that this is the reason why we are in it. And... I am very thankful you care so much for me. I shouldn't take your love for granted. For that, I am sorry."
"I care for you more than I could ever describe," Ominis replied, voice breaking as he tried to smile. "My family is not worth any risk to your life. I do mean it when I say I need you; I need your happiness. Even if you were to reject me and run off with someone else, I could at least take solace in knowing you were happy. But if you were to die, I would have nothing."
Ominis sniffled quietly and stroked MC's hands with his thumb. She looked between their hands and his downward-cast face and withdrew her hands. When Ominis' face turned upwards in question, she drew him into a tight embrace.
"Thank you," she whispered. Ominis slowly wrapped his arms around her in return and sighed deeply before tenderly kissing the side of her head.
"I'm your husband. You willingly chose me, but you don't deserve what my family did to you that night. I'll always protect you to my dying breath. I love you."
"I love you too.” MC’s voice wavered when Ominis gently squeezed her, and he smiled when he felt her try to clandestinely wipe away a tear.
“We will make this work. I believe someone close to me once said that whatever lies ahead, we must face it together."
"I couldn't agree more," Ominis smiled.
#hogwarts legacy#ominis gaunt#ominis gaunt x mc#hogwarts legacy fanfic#requests#...damn it I did not think about the title until after I hit post. Now im gonna have the Supremes song stuck in my head >:(#IM SORRY I had to make some edits after I left out some details that were really really bugging me lol :(#Isabel Greymoore
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SKZ reacting the your nipple piercing
☾ Title : SKZ reacting to your nipple piercing
☾ REBLOG/FEED BACK IS ALWAYS WELCOME
☾ Pairing: skz hyungline x fem!reader
☾ Genre: MINORS DNI , smut, established relationship.
☾ Prompt: request : skz reacting to their s/o having their nipple pierced? (i love your writing btw)
☾ A/N: this is one is for all my pierced babies (including myself), I've been dying to write this one for so looong, and I think I went a little too horny for some of them, don’t forget to give me your feed back guys, and please interact with the reactions/ scenarios I post thanks xox
☾ Word Count: ~1.2K
masterlist | ask or request
BANG CHAN
Chan never thought about nipple piercing before, it wasn’t in his mind but since the day he saw the shade of the two little balls on each side of your nipple under one of his shirt, it activated the switch in his mind.
It was now one of his biggest turn on, on you. One of his now favorite features of yours. He is almost thinking about getting a matching one, cause it make you so sensitive whenever he is teasing that one nipple and damn he is so weak for the cold metal hitting his warm tongue.
Chan is a simple man loving everything of his s/o. But drunk chan reacted differently to this jewelry sharing with the rest of 3racha that, that one little thing adoring your breast was the best thing in his sexual life ( a bit much here mister! ) how you reacted every time he plays with it.
So now on every simple time he let you ride him, he is having that one nipple in his mouth, it almost creating a lactation kink deep down his mind.
LEE MINHO
When the idea finally made its way in your mind, minho was neither against or for, he didn’t really think much. But after you finally did it, he find himself lost on his private navigation looking for the benefit of the said piercing, what was the most pleasurable thing to do with it. And soon he find that ice, was a thing for you, the cold cube erecting your nipple and making the slivers balls getting so shiny under the light .. minho was a gone man, about the nuts in seconds just at the sight.
Teasing the small piercing with his tongue and almost wishing for your second nipple to have the same little ornament.
It soon became a new way of trying new stuffs to trying to get you cum only by playing with your breast and minho finally discovered he was a breast man thanks to you.
SEO CHANGBIN
Since chan told him about that damn piercing, Changbin couldn’t think about any other things. He became obsessed with your breast imagining a small metal bar going through your sensitive skin here. So when you got the said piercing while he was on tour, and send that one photo. Your breast covered in an almost transparent bralette, he came in his pants like a teenager receiving his first nude.
But the worst thing was when you told him he couldn’t play with it until it was healed. He just couldn’t wait, to try many things already planning it in his notes.
So everyday he would received a update photo of the jewelry hiding under your best choice of bralette making him wishing these 2 weeks could go faster.
and when he finally had the piercing right under his nose, he looked at it like a kid in a toy store, eyes full of stars and a bit of drool on the side of his lower lip.
HWANG HYUNJIN
Hyunjin being the artist he is, the first time he saw that piece of art on your breast his mind ran so fast, many ideas fusing in his brain, to body paint, picture on his old camera and painting your body on many blank canvas. He did it all.
But he favorite was that one edible body paint he find on amazon. He would send a long time to paint on your breast just to take a photo and after running his tongue and teeth on your skin.
Hwang Hyunjin was gone on the second your custom piercing was hitting his tongue, groaning so loud and grabbing your hips like a wild animal.
He would draw customs piercing for you and ordering it as presents, getting you a huge collection of ornament for your breast.
HAN JISUNG
Jisung loved feeling the cold bit caressing his chest whenever he was taking you, almost laying on you for his own pleasure feeling the small cold balls teasing his hot nipple, but he also loved taking you early morning being the big spoon, one hand under your neck and the second one holding your pierced breast feeling his ‘favorite friend’ aka your piercing. The fact it didn’t really made you more sensitive or else it was Jisung favorite thing to touch during your sessions. It became his guilty pleasure.
He couldn’t help but his eyes taking place on your breast every time your were with him. Almost feeling like the most pervert boyfriend on the planet. So the day you came back with a second piercing on the other breast Jisung though he directly went to heaven when he saw it. ‘Forget what they says about diamonds being girls bff, your pierced nipple are my cock bff’ a true Jisung’s style.
LEE FELIX
That one time Felix what explaining something to you and accidentally touched your braless breast on a Sunday afternoon, he looked so confused ‘what was this hard thing on your nipple?’ You simply laughed telling him you went your friend get a piercing cause why not?
Felix was so fascinated by the small piece of jewelry on your skin it was kind go funny seeing him looking at it trying to think what he wanted to do with it at the moment.
Tugging it, licking it, kissing it, sucking it, but surely his favorite thing was tugging it whenever he cuffed you to the bed watching you, getting frustrate with him cause he was the biggest tease ever.
And one day decided to pinched your naked nipple asking you if it hurt and taking pleasure just by hearing moan. In conclusion lee Felix is kind a sadistic since you got this piercing.
KIM SEUNGMIN
Since he got his braces off Seungmin was the most happy and horny man on the face of the earth, He could finally pleasure your fine breast, a promised you made to him when he knew and had his appointment to get rid of his braces, a nipple piercing.
When he finish getting his braces off the first thing he did was calling you, telling you to wait for him on your bed and ready for him to play for a long time.
He spend at least 30 minutes just sucking, tugging and licking your nipple as if it was the finest ice cream. Getting you off with just his tongue and fingers, on your sensitive skin and his second hand deep in your panties, looking at you softly as if he was the softest lover on the earth.
YANG JEONGIN
Jeongin was obsessed we can say at least, he never thought of this piercing but seeing it proudly sitting on your breast he was insane.
‘Look at my baby being a big bad bitch with her new jewl feeling bad darling ?’ He made him running his dirty mouth, he took pleasure in hitting your breast until you moan him to stop, but moaning so loud at the same time, grinning your hips on his, craving a little friction where you needing him the most. He was a little tease its his favorite thing to do, tease you until you can’t take it anymore. And when he was happy watching you being a crying mess he would finally penetrated you and taking you nipple in his mouth, rewarding his good girl.
#straykidsland#stray kids#skz#skz smut#stray kids smut#skz imagines#skz scenarios#bang chan smut#skz lee know smut#seo changbin smut#hwang hyunjin smut#han jisung smut#lee felix smut#kim seungmin smut#yang jeongin smut#bang chan imagine#lee know imagines#seo changbin imagines#hwang hyunjin imagines#han jisung imagines#lee felix imagines#kim seungmin imagines#yang jeongin imagines
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Linked Universe Big Bang 2023 Sing-up Sheet
I know I said this would be up by Sunday, but I figured no one would complain about being able to access it a few days early. The sign-up will be open from now until Saturday, November 11th. If anything in these forms make no sense to you, please do not hesitate to reach out.
Each form should take about 5-15 minutes depending on how detailed you want to get.
Author Sign-up:
Artist Sign-up:
Beta Reader Sign-up:
F.A.Q. under the cut:
What is the timeline again?
Here is the whole schedule post. But short version, sign-ups will close on November 11th, claims will be Saturday Nov. 18th and then everything will be posted on Saturday, January 27th.
What form do I fill out?
If you are going to write fic, click the author one. If you are going to make art, click the artist one. Beta readers, hit the Beta one. If you are going to be participating in more than one capacity, fill out a separate form for the separate ways you will participate. (EX: If you are going to write and also draw for someone else's fic, fill out both the artist and author forms).
Wait do you want my Tumblr or my email?
I want you to give me whatever method of contact information you have to give me. Tumblr, email, discord, whatever. Just give me at least one. My personal preference is tumblr, but I am not picky. I will work with you.
Why did you ask about potential archive warnings?
Because while I fully support the right of writers and artists to make art about whatever they damn well please, I don't want to match an author who is not comfortable with graphic violence with a fic that's just a beautiful gorey fight scene. This is not a moral judgement, I just want to respect everyone's boundaries and make sure we all have fun.
What are you going to do with the information I give you?
Your contact information will be given to your partner so that you guys can get to work on communicating and making beautiful fic/art. I will also use it to check in twice before posting to make sure everything is going well.
All other questions are to make sure the pairing / claims process goes as smoothly as possible for everyone.
How detailed do you want that fic summary?
That is frankly up to you. That blurb and working title is what I am going to be using to pitch your fic to the artists. After you two get in touch, then you can flesh out the details together. So if you think three words is enough to get an artist excited (EX: Ravio wielding Fi), then that will do. If you want to give a full 300 word book blurb, that's fine too.
What if I want to make fic for a different version of the Chain? Like Bonus Links or LinkedMaze?
You are one hundred percent more than welcome to do so! Just make sure that you include the fact that the fic is for a specific non-LU version of the boys in your summary when you fill out the form.
Wait! You forgot to tell us about X!
My bad! Send me a message, an ask, or reply to this post. Always happy to provide further clarification.
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I didn't follow the elvis promo closely: what happened between Austin Butler and Olivia Dejonge?
hiiii ohh well i’d say it’s more about what happened before promo ??? i.e more specifically during filming and covid lockdown. it might be a bit lengthy so bear w me sweet anon
*if you don’t like olivia don’t read won’t tolerate hate against my girl 🌚*
so sometime in dec 2019 deuxmoi got a tip about olivia and austin checking into a hotel together and keep in mind this is before any vanessa + austin break up that i know of although DM didn’t make this public until either 2020 or 2021. there’s also two infamous photos :
that’s bebe orleans (a best friend of olivia’s during the time of filming i don’t think they’re friends anymore tho opp-) and a shirtless austin butler hugging her (apparently during this time olivia would post A LOT of stuff and austin or something of his would be in the background and as soon as fans pointed it out she would delete it poor girl is still so spooked by social media to this day)
Then there’s the infamous shirt-gate. Olivia wearing Austin’s Hawaiian shirt and this was posted to Olivia’s IG jan 2 2020 about two weeks before vaustin break up hit any headlines. vanessa fans clocked this and tore olivia apart. i’m not saying it was alright for olivia to post but she was young, she was about 20/21??? and we don’t know where austin and vanessa stood during this time. idk just ~ drama really. filming continued, life went on, austin was in london filming mota and then DM was sent in this tip right after the austin x lily rose photos dropped
Olivia followed DM when this was posted and only unfollowed them *after* this had been sent in. Now as much as I love Olivia and Olivia x Austin I actually don’t think they ever officially dated either like where Austin was claiming her as his girlfriend or girl or anything. I think they were just something ya know? Fucking, hanging out, feelings unrequited maybe but no titles. So yeah I don’t think Austin “cheated” on Olivia with Lily Rose but maybe they were still hanging out or Olivia was still waiting on him when the photos dropped so she was just hurt/heartbroken? Personally I think someone Olivia knows (or maybe Olivia herself) sent this in and knew using words like cheated would just make Austin look worse so they went that route with those words.
If you watch Elvis promo interviews/videos Olivia and Austin seem to get along just fine and this is where Kaia (austin’s long term gf) comes in. the photo of olivia holding austin’s face in cannes with kaia sitting behind them will always make me laugh because its so relatable i too would be messy having to see the guy who broke my heart be in love with his new gf while we promote the movie we’re in. olivia and kaia follow each other so i think they’re friendly as well. i think its kinda obvious that olivia did have feelings for austin/was hurt by him and then had to do promo with him where he sometimes brought along his new gf. this is when i really started to feel for her and began looking into her.
But then of course press tour ended and so did anything between austin and olivia??? they have different friend groups, live in different cities but then comes austin’s aacta speech
now austin robert butler why in the damn hell were you waxing so poetically about your co star who by this point wants seemingly nothing to do with you? i love this speech and can rewatch it and cry especially when you realize olivia didn’t mention austin by name not even once in her acceptance speech. i don’t think she did that to be petty i think she didn’t want the drama of it which i can understand. so i think she was just distancing herself from the elvis experience already by this point and trying to move on. there’s one (1) photo of them at the Oscars greeting each other but idk as much as it hurts me i think olivia really just wanted to move on from this part of her life. she’s good friends with sophie turner (who i also love and think is so awesome) and one night last year went to dinner with sophie and taylor swift and unfollowed austin. she tried to play it off by unfollowing 100 people the next day lol but girlie u didn’t fool anyone!
fun fact and unrelated but in 2022 kaia was having a girls night with charlotte lawrence (her best friend) and this same night charlotte followed olivia on ig (olivia who was in australia) so i always wondered if kaia was maybe talking about olivia lmao
now i think i’ve covered the most important parts but honestly it’s a lot of lore and most of it unconfirmed you just have to use your basic common sense and critical thinking skills it is not hard to see there was obviously something between them and olivia was hurt. i think if timing and the elvis possession and austin’s identity crisis during all this played a big part in them not publicly dating but i think in a different time/life they could have been “the one” and i associate maroon and the 1 by taylor swift to them. i love olivia, she’s gorgeous, talented, chill, minds her business, kind, idk what everyone has against her.
also gonna tag @bcofl0ve on this because she knows a lot more than me on this subject and was auslivia president she can correct me on anything if im wrong.
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Oh oh oh oh! I noticed you did not list the Jamie falling asleep 5+1 fic, does that mean the title is there??? 👀
And as much as I’m always begging for posts from the others hit me with some info about Heaven Sent a Hurricane and/or The Greater Richmond Pet Acquisition!
Yes it does mean that. You are keen sighted. The 5+1 has now been named 'I still feel like the same person I’ve been' and I am quite happy with the title (it works on every level I wanted it to!) Bonus: I think I may get into edits on ch 1 for it this week (pray pray pray I did not jinx myself by saying that)
Heaven Sent a Hurricane - this is my darker timeline that is based off of this idea I had that is basically 'what if Roy and Keeley never broke up, so Roy never trained Jamie, and then Amsterdam happened?' This one interested me for two aspects:
1) I love angst, and Jamie in the Zava era with no hope in sight? Endless possibilities.
2) The Roy and Keeley relationship, and particularly the idea that they would have to learn and grow as a couple but with the fun addition of the exploration of non-traditional relationships. Keeley is coming to terms with the fact that she may just be polyamorous, specifically in terms of Jack coming around, and what does that mean when she is trying her hardest to make it work with her boyfriend who she really does love?
In its original iteration it was a not-the-way-you're-thinking Roy/Keeley/Jamie endgame, with Keeley being poly, Jamie being aromantic, and Roy's poor search history being sacrificed in a fucking bonfire after all the googling he's had to do. But I also go back and forth on how much fucking effort that sounds like, especially since I would start in a depressing angsty place and end up in a somewhat crack-tastic place, so it very well could end up one series called Jamie Going Through It (Zava Style) that would focus only on Jamie and his mental state, and another series called Everybody's Incompatible Bitch; Let's Go Eat Some Fruit (Who Has the Wi-Fi Password?)
The Greater Richmond Pet Acquisition is that other damn thing I blog about that begins with Give Jamie Tartt A Cat but eventually has spread to me assigning animals to the entire team. The main story in this one is that Jamie comes back in S2 and befriends Higgins, who shows him pictures of the late Cindy Clawford, and then Jamie decides to go out and adopt a cat. THE GIANTEST AND FLUFFIEST CAT. PURE SEROTONIN IS HIDDEN IN THAT FUR.
It's positively fluffy (when it's not absolutely gutting you with feelings), right until Wembley happens and after his dad leaves and the hug is settled Jamie has a complete fucking panic attack that he has to get home now or his dad is going to hurt his fucking cat. At which point like, they got to talk about the abuse, man. Fuck.
#ask box is always open#ask game#not sure what to tag this#don't really want to throw it in the ship tag#fic: heaven sent a hurricane
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Well, I finally got the motivation to actually write this damn thing (wow), and I did the first chapter in a few hours, it’s still a bit messy, but I figured that if I can’t post on A03 yet for a while, I might as well post it here.
A few changes from one I posted a while ago, with it now being completed (yippee)
With that being said, I don’t have a proper title for my work (yet) but enjoy the first chapter!
Chapter 1: Andante
The alarm sounded at Korsica’s desk, announcing the end of the security head’s day at work. Dressed in her usual work uniform, her blaze red jacket, thigh-high stockings, blue shorts, and the shoes Peppermint lended her.Korsica groaned, stretching out of her chair, tense after another hard day at Vandelay. Not as hard under former CEO Kale Vandelay, especially during the “defect” fiasco, but still, a stressful day. Changing passwords, massive paperwork, finding possible security breaches, and so on. Before logging off her own computer, she made sure to quickly change her passwords, and shut off her computer, and walked out her office.
As she passed through the doors, she was surprised to see a CAR-11E bot, with food she ordered from the cafe.
“How long have you been waiting here?” The Scottish redhead questioned.
The robot responded in a worried voice, “About 4 hours, 37 minutes, and 12 seconds”. Korsica cringed at the thought that the bot was here, holding up her food, nearly all day, all because she was so caught up in her work.
“I am surely to be fired” the CAR-11E exclaimed.
“I assure you, that won’t happen.” Korsica reassured the bot, grabbing her food and paid a bit extra for the CAR-11E’s inconvenience.
As she stepped foot on the elevator, she wondered how Chai managed to get up here, when he invaded the tower. Even though he destroyed a major part of security, technically got her fired from her job, and maybe hit her head on multiple doors, she couldn’t help but commend him on making it up the tower, fighting against Roquefort, Mimosa, and Kale, and fixing the data nodes faster than any of the TEC-78s could do. She couldn’t also help but think; what is Chai and the rest of the gang up to? She quickly opened up her phone, looking through the small chat Chai added everyone in. While she was looking through the dry chat for that day, she got an email on her phone, from the CEO herself, Roxanne Vandelay.
Peppermint walked up to the door of the hideout, dressed in her white crop top, denim jeans and jacket, and her ripped thigh-high sock on one leg and her prosthetic as the other. ready to relax after helping her mother with work, by doing some more work. As she turned on the light, she was surprised to see Chai, the Armstrong ambassador, sleeping on the couch, again. Not even in anything comfortable, just the outfit he called his own, his classic yellow-ripped jacket, red scarf and shirt, and his jeans which made him get called a hipster by one TEC-78 he helped a while ago.
She sighed, not because she was angry or disappointed, but because he had to stay over at the hideout again. It was really the only place he could stay so far. She walked over to the couch and shook the sleepy rockstar awake.
Chai yelped, surprised and in the middle of a pretty sweet dream.
“Geez ok, ok, I’m up mom”. Chai exclaimed, before promptly yawning. He hadn’t realized what he said until he could finally focus and see Peppermint's confused expression.
“I-uh-I mean-.” Chai stumbled over his words, embarrassed over what he said.
“Mom?” Peppermint questioned, with a little chuckle. “Wow, didn’t know I was like that to you.” She stated.
“What? No of course not, just reminded me of her! That’s all!” Chai explained, desperate to correct what he said.
808 woke up from her spot on the couch, listening to the commotion going on. Despite being a robot cat, she yawned and stretched, kneading her pillow in the process, her ear flicked, hearing footsteps, leading to the hideout. She sat down, tuning out Chai and Peppermint’s discussion, and turned to the hideout door.
“Chill out Chai, I’m just messing with you.”
“Okay, fine. Can we stop now?”
“Sure, son” Peppermint said with a smirk on her face, teasing Chai for the final time for now. The latter groaned.
They both heard a knock on the door, the two turning their attention towards the entrance. Peppermint made her way over to the door, 808 jumping off her pillow to follow her owner/creator. Peppermint opened the door to see two very familiar faces standing there.
“Macaron!” Chai shouted, hopping off the couch to greet his friend.
“Hey, Chai!” Macaron responded, happy to see him nice and well. Dressed in his lab coat, khaki pants, and helpful implants on his major joints and arms. They both attempted to do their secret handshake that Chai came up with, and although it was a bit messy at first, they eventually got it, much to Peppermint’s surprise.
“How’s it going CNMN?” Peppermint asked the psych robot. “New parts treating you right?”
“Good afternoon Miss Peppermint, Sir Macaron and I are doing just fine, and these new parts fit well!”
Despite CNMN being nearly destroyed sacrificing thierself destroying Zanzo’s robot Kale briefly controlled , Macaron repaired CNMN in his free time with bits of scrap he found around his workshop, and was looking a lot better
“How are you and Mister Chai getting along so far?” CNMN responded.
Chai had been staying in the hideout ever since Peppermint recruited him, and he hasn’t found anywhere else to stay since then. Roxanne, Peppermint's mother, was a bit too overwhelmed with the damage Kale had done to the company to find a place for him to stay.
Peppermint did have her own room in the hideout, but the last thing she wanted was Chai to be snoring in the middle of the night in her own room. Either way, Chai was comfortable enough to sleep on the couch he always rested on between his earlier missions.
“Oh, everything’s going as fine as it can be right now. Chai is a bit messy, but hey, until my mom can figure something else, I’m fine.”Peppermint answered.
“So, what brings you guys over to the hideout?” Chai asked with curiosity.
“What? I can’t pay a visit to some friends?” Macaron said jokingly. “I just got an email from Roxanne, and she gave us some time off in preparation for a festival celebrating Project Armstrong!”
Chai was confused.
“Didn’t the festival already happen a few weeks ago? You know, when I fought Mimosa, did a cool performance and everything? My face still hurts from her slapping me!” Chai stated, rubbing his cheek where Mimosa slapped him, multiple times.
“Well this is a bit different,” Macron chuckled, putting a hand on Chai’s shoulder. “After most of the department heads, well, disappeared,” He chuckled with some hesitation. “Roxanne is setting up a small party, to look and announce new department heads for Quality Assurance and Marketing, and because she is taking finance under herself, we only need two people to fill in the slots ”
“So, who’s invited?”
“Well,” Macaron looked around. “Everyone! You, me, CNMN, Peppermint, Korsica and 808!” He said with a warm smile.
“Huh?” Chai said with surprise. “Wait, why me? As far as I know, I’m just the Armstrong Ambassador.” He pointed to the pin on his jacket, which he always proudly wore.
Macaron chuckled, “Well, that, and you helped bring down Kale, so why wouldn’t she?”
“Oh, makes a lot more sense now, doesn’t it?” Chai answered sheepishly. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s get-”
“Hold on,” Peppermint jumped in, “Where’s Korsica?”
As soon as those words left her lips, everyone could hear footsteps coming down the hallway, as if someone was jogging down the dark hallway leading to the hideout. As they all looked down the hall, they saw the familiar figure of the head of security in the dark.
“Hey everyone” Korsica said, breathing a bit heavily, “How is everyone doing?”
Everyone greeted Korsica, with Peppermint gesturing her in.
“Macaron,” She started to say, “ I take it you got the email Roxanne sent?”
“Yep,” he responded “Just told the rest of everyone here about it.”
“So, what are we doing today then?” Chai eagerly said, “Hope something cool today, that's always nice.”
“Actually, CNMN and I were planning to go out for dinner tonight to celebrate, anyone want to come with?” Macaron asked, hoping for someone to accept his invitation.
“That would be great!” Chai exclaimed.
“My lunch was a bit cold, so I could go for a meal.” Korsica answered with a smile.
“Well…” Peppermint trailed off, turning to her computer, expecting to do a bit of work.
‘Peppermint,” Korsica said, turning to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I’ve had enough work today, and I’m sure you did too. Kale’s gone! Spectra is unplugged! Chai taught me the importance of relaxing, and I feel like you should too, join us.” she said with a smile.
“Uh- yeah, I-I guess I’ll go,” Peppermint stuttered, blushing slightly at Korsica’s gesture.
“Great! Let’s go everyone, dinner’s on me!” Macaron smiled.
“Oh, at least let me pay for my meal.” Korsica chuckled.
As Macaron, Korsica, CNMN were leaving, Chai pulled up next to Peppermint, with 808 on his shoulder.
“Yeah Chai?”
“Told you so.”
Peppermint rolled her eyes with a soft smile, “Come on, Chai, they’re waiting for us.”
That concludes the first chapter, a bit rough around the edges but it’s mine, and hopefully as I further write this story, my writing gets better. I hope you guys enjoyed.
#if anyone is willing to beta read for my chapters#it would be greatly appreciated#(I think I used beta read correctly)#(I’m still new to this fanfic things#hi fi rush#hfr#hi-fi rush#fanfic#writing
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135, 119, 100 :D
100: whats your most listened to playlist?
my general listening diary which i've been curating since i was 16 lol
135: what’s a music pet peeve of yours?
hm. intentional record crackling on a track. awful stuff, especially if it actually runs throughout and you can hear it. really can't stand it. there's defs other ones but that one just seems to be the one on my mind rn
119: What music did you grow up on?
putting this last bc i wnna put a post cut here cuz im just gonna go on awhile SORRY this one means a bit.
i'm putting * next to my all time albums here
for the first 13 years of my life, i would say it's 70/80s chart hits through my parents, and modern pop radio on my own. mostly the latter. the first song i ever became aware of was nelly furtado's maneater when i was 5. most of what i really did grow up around was pop radio like your generic local station shit. then my parents got cable when i was 7 which introduced me to more... curated things? i'm gonna speak in australian pay tv networks and artists here i'm sorry i hate speaking like this. but [v] (may it rest in peace for its shuttering is easily one of the worst losses i've ever experienced) was like my slow awakening to my more "alternative" tastes than the general packaged pop i'd been so used to at that point, in the way it was mostly just 2008-12 peak era (imo) triple j buzz bands and that kind of thing. artists i really remember getting into that time because of that were the presets – who'd just released apocalypso* at this point – and ladyhawke* – who had just released her self titled debut (another all timer.) very related is that modular (the label that issued these albums, and of tame impala fame) genuinely had some fucking top tier albums out in 2008, like van she's v and another all timer and pitchfork best new album in ghost colours* by cut copy. insane year for them, but back to me. i was really getting into listening to the weekly top 40 on radio around this time too. my local station was mostly syndicated programming from 2day from a certain hour. like their usual weekdaily thing was their morning show which i have never heard for some reason, then it was just local in house selected garbage that i have permanently seered into my mind now until 3 when they started the pre-record syndicated stuff like hamish and andy or kyle and jackie o. which after 5pm is when The Fucking Goods happened and you got the ill-fated hot 30 which was pretty much became a ritual thing for me when i was 9 until it was canceled when i was 11. on weekends i would listen to my beloved take 40 which i continued doing up until i was 12 and gained a proper internet connection. when i think back on this time period it it's kinda crazy how much music i was listening to and the fact it was just something i did and didn't know anybody else who was like crazy deep in music like this. but it did give me my extensive knowledge of 2000s/early 2010s popular music which i've been curating in a playlist since i was 15 that was just a comfort list turned mutant.
but the turning point in my taste came when i was 12 and got an non-poor person internet connection aka wifi, an ipad and a dream. at this point i was slowly moving away from charts and into full albums – something i never really did. one of the first albums i owned was rogue trader's here comes the drums* and that until katy perry's teenage dream were like the only albums i'd heard back to back. first album i brought in 2013 was ellie goulding's halcyon* and i pretty much burnt it to my pc and listened to it and it only for like 6 months of the year, before buying calvin harris' 18 months* on itunes when they did that u have 3 singles from this album u can buy the rest for $6 thing. by this time i was starting to get on socials and drift into fandom. one of the first ones was dan & phil who are big fans of muse and spoke about how origin of symmetry* is their fave album by them and i was like, damn i gotta check this out. from that point onwards for another like 6 months was the only album and first discogs ever sought out and listened to. through being in that fandom i started getting into music circles which happened right at the biggest turning point of my life. by mid 2014 i'd started to venture into the 2014 tumblr-core stuff; sky ferreira, vampire weekend, the strokes, grimes and twigs, and my first super hyperfixated musical act, foster the people. i was on indie twitter by this point and consumed by it and had completely stopped and refused to listen to top 40 radio which i still don't do. by 2015 i'd basically crafted my alternative taste and begun collecting vinyl. here's my top artists from my old last.fm to illustrate where i am as a 14 year old:
it pretty much stayed like this for somewhat unchanged until 2017 when i got a spotify subscription and started listening to radiohead a fair bit lol. by early 2018 i was starting to listen to fantano-core stuff and by extension got into post-punk, iceage-ajacent bands which led me to posh isolation and started my interest in noise/ambient stuff. late 2019 i started listening to the brixton windmill-ajacent bands like black midi and bc,nr and started using rateyourmusic and just discovering things over time.
im sorry that this is so long and i dont expect anybody to read this lmao 😭
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The Map's Setting, A History
Long Talky One Again, this time it's gonna get autobiographical.
So, as i've eluded to in the past, the map (rp_chicago, see previous posts) is not say in our 1930s. It's set in my funny lore setting that i've been cultivating for the past few years that even though has had more abandonded projects tied to it than i can count still doesn't have a name that isn't a working title.
Ladies, Gentlemen and Etceras, It is my honor to present my baby to the world,
The Staten Island Universe
Yes the name sucks and makes you ask more questions than a title should, but there's a fun story behind the bizarre name i promise. Anyways here i go.
The beginings of the Staten Island universe started back in my highschool days, when i used to DM some D&D for a big friend group i had. One day, after playing too much Grand Theft Auto on my PS4 (This was in 2017? or so i think), i had a moment where the stars aligned.
What if i made a D&D campaign set in a modern crime story, without removing all the D&D elements.
And so it was, i never finished it, but we did play an unfinished version of it a couple times and it was very enjoyable. Specially the quest where you had to kill a bard with an electric guitar in the abandoned times square toys-r-us.
Unluckly, me sucking at math caused my grades to slump and now i had less time to make more D&D shit, and ended up throwing the whole project away in the dreaded vault of dead projects.
Now skipping ahead a couple years and it's my last semester of high school, in 2020. So i'm locked in my room pretending to be paying attention to whatever the teacher was saying (maybe related to my slumped grades from above) and making a new D&D campaign that my friends and i were gonna run over the internet this time. The plot of it was unimportant but what was important was my recent (at the time) acquisition of my current computer and a vr headset.
Before i got the VR headset, and around the time I upgraded from a ok-ish Acer Nitro 5 gaming laptop to this thing, i was making a really shit gmod map.
Stallen Island i called it,
and it was my headcannon version of what the missing part of New York City (Staten Island) would look like in GTA IV's map, of course with nowhere near the amount of skill and art-direction to pull it off in fucking Gmod, but i tried my best.
Eventually i got bored of making this map, and/or ran out of ideas for it so i receded into doing whatever it is i did for fun back then. Until my high school friends contacted me over the internet.
They wanted to play some more D&D over the internet, so i obliged. I made them a new campaign and had a silly little idea for it. What if all the maps for it were actually gmod maps instead of PNGs.
These are my only published maps, The D&D map collection.
Info about them individually on their pictures, but i did actually get to play it with them and they enjoyed it very much.
But...
Around the same time i had finally gotten my VR Headset. And i'd been playing a lot of Skyrim VR, which influenced the design of this D&D campaign. Specifically I inserted my Khajiit into it, Mr. Ralasajeeno as a Theif.
But all this is just autobiographical shit right what does this have to do with the big name you put in yellow up there?
Well one night i was writting more shit for the campaign when it hit like how the best ideas hit you, blasting directly into your brain at 3AM.
I remembered the other D&D campaign again, and i revived it as a really big design doc i still have on my computer for a open world crime sandbox game that plays like a mix of GTA and D&D / Skyrim, A.K.A. a game that would cost too much time and money for me to ever make.
Every day, i would wake up and add more and more lore, characters, ideas for situations, missions, locations, items and it would grow so god damn big that eventually i felt like i had to make something for it.
So i had an idea, how about i make a new version of that map i mentioned earlier.
It's name was Staten Island, and it fucking rocked
Staten Island was the biggest map i ever made, and i never really finished it.
Not because of a lack of ideas, because i had plenty of ideas for it, i just outgrew it. Though it forever holds a part in my heart as the map that really kickstarted the Staten Island Universe as it's own thing. Many of the things written down in the lore for it are direct from either me needing assets for the map or questions people would ask while playing on it.
Afterwards there were a couple more Modern Staten Island Universe maps. Pictures Here:
Finally, how does Chicago fit into all this?
Well after a really long time of making smaller maps that didn't go anywhere, making other types of addons and being a support dev for other people's addons, i finally had a good idea for a map again.
This map was the current map, Chicago.
I had the idea while playing lots of Mafia: Definitive Edition a couple months back and having a grand old time.
I always wanted to do something in the past of the Staten Island Universe, so the idea was to make this map and then make a couple more maps.
Each map would pick a different time period and location, moving slowly towards today. Chicago is step one of this plan and unlike all these other maps, i do intend on sticking with this one all the way to the finish line.
trust me bro, i swear
please trust me
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New Years WIP Clean-Out (Accidental Courtship Fic)
Continuing my WIP folder clean out (wherein I am posting wips I'm never going to have a chance to finish, so I stop feeling them nagging at me) and I've come to my Accidental Courtship fic.
NOW, this one was Jangobi and never got so far as a proper title. Basically, though, they met up shortly after Obi-Wan's mission to Mandalore, get stuck together, and Obi-Wan...accidentally starts courting Jango per an ancient Mandalorian tradition (that Obi-Wan does not even know exists).
Jango thinks Obi-Wan knows because, well, Obi-Wan knows Mando'a and seems to know a lot of other things. So he thinks he's being intentionally courted and doesn't like it at first.
Until he does.
Anyway, the courtship basically involves performing a specific number of tasks for the other person, at the end of which you are considered married. Both partners can participate, which makes the courtship go faster. (One of the steps includes the courted partner enthusiastically consenting, there should be no way for you to marry someone against their will. Jango is very into it by about halfway through the process.)
Yes, it would have ended with them married, on purpose on Jango's part, accidentally on Obi-Wan's, though, again, Jango THOUGHT Obi-Wan knew what he was doing.
ANYWAY.
I only have out-of-order scenes for this one, so I'm going to not post them on ao3. Just....gonna leave them here, for anyone who wants to see them. Under the read more!
“Does he fuck the same way he fights?” Gurt asked, sending a leer Kenobi’s way, and Jango was surprised by the sudden sweep of offense through his head at the comment. He stiffened, sharp words springing to his tongue all at once.
Kenobi spoke before he could say anything, without even looking up. “For the sake of any partners you have,” he said, the Mando’a flowing perfect off of his tongue, mouth turning up in the corners, “I hope you don’t.”
Gurt froze for just a moment, making a little choking sound as a surprised laugh punched out of Jango’s throat. Gurt recovered himself after a moment, leaning forward to hiss, “You didn’t tell me he understood.”
“You didn’t ask,” Jango said, shooting a glance towards Kenobi, who looked amused, sitting there beside their fire, tending the wound on his arm without so much as a flinch. Gurt grumbled something unkind, making himself busy with cleaning his blaster, and Jango ignored him.
He was tired and stretching out onto his bedroll felt like a good idea.
It felt less so, a few moments later, when he found himself staring up into the stars and wondering, with a creeping tendril of heat into his gut, if Kenobi did fuck the same way he fought, all grace and control of his body, easy power and movement.
It was easy to imagine. Kenobi knew how to move, knew how to carry himself. How would that, Jango wondered, the warmth in his gut spreading, translate to a bedroom - or, kriff, to a bedroll. He’d not thought about it when he first met the Jedi, and he’d…. Perhaps been working to continue not thinking about it, even as Kenobi pursued him.
He thought about it, staring at a distant star, and ended up laying there, hard and aching, and with nothing he could do to address it. They were not so far through the ritual that he could reach out and find out on his own. And touching himself with Gurt on the other side of the fire held no appeal.
#
#
“They don’t deserve you,” Jango snapped, the words torn out of his chest without his permission. He watched them hit Kenobi, watched him draw up short, blinking several times in rapid succession.
Kenobi recovered his tongue quickly. He always did, damn him. “That may be the nicest thing you’ve said to me since we met,” he said, mouth crooking up, like he wasn’t taking any of this seriously. And he wasn’t, because he turned again, bending to keep gathering his things and--
And Jango jerked towards him, reaching down and grabbing the bag, close to his hand, not quite touching. He said, low, “These people - they don’t deserve your help. They’re just--”
“What does it matter?” Kenobi asked, looking across at him, meeting his gaze with an ease that Jango had never understood. Kenobi had never been frightened of him a sensible amount. Any amount at all.
“What?” Jango asked, and Kenobi crooked his mouth up in the corners.
“What does it matter if they deserve my help or not? How would I even decide if they deserve it? What right would I have to decide?” He cocked his head to the side, blue eyes so terribly bright and clear. And Jango wanted to say: You don’t need to decide. I can tell they don’t deserve you.
No one does.
The words - the realization that accompanied them - caught in his throat. Kenobi smiled at him, softly, and tugged the bag free of his grip. “They need my help. That’s what matters.”
“You’ll die,” Jango rasped, gaze stuck on Kenobi’s face, the way he glanced over, a sort of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth and eyes.
“I might not,” he said, slinging his bag over his shoulder and looking across at Jango, idealistic and foolish and young and-- “If I had help.”
Jango stared at him for a long moment and then shook his head, a jerk of denial, taking a step back. “No,” he said, too many memories crowded around in his head, pressing too close. He’d fought his futile battles. The galaxy couldn’t expect him to fight anymore.
“Alright,” Kenobi said and exhaled, like that was that. And then he cleared his throat, reached into his robes, and pulled out a….rock. He held it out, a strange expression on his face, and said, “If you’re right, and I do die, would you give this to Master Jinn? If you see him?”
Jango looked away, shoving down the ache in his chest, and said, “Leave it, if it pleases you.”
“Jango,” Kenobi said, voice strange and quiet, but he did not continue. Jango scowled over at the far wall, cursing him for a fool, off to get himself killed for nothing. Jango had known that people like Kenobi didn’t exist in the galaxy or that, if they did, the galaxy went out of it’s way to see them destroyed, broken and wiped away. Ruined.
By the time he looked back, Kenobi was gone. A small rock rested where his pack had been. It wasn’t, Jango considered, even a very pretty rock. He ached with another step taken closer to the completion of the ritual - trusting another to carry back word of your death - aching that Kenobi would still want him, taking the opportunity to make sure he knew….
Jango reached out and picked up the rock, rubbing his thumb over it, and Kenobi was impossible. A fool, running off to help people just because they needed it. He was a fool and he was going to get himself killed.
The galaxy abhorred people like him, people who shone too bright. He’d gone off and he’d learn that, learn it with blood and pain and, maybe, he’d live long enough to put that knowledge into practice. Maybe he really would come back to Jango, wiser. Harder. Different.
Jango shoved the stone into a pocket, close to his heart, and tightened the closures on his vambraces.
He’d not known what to make of Kenobi, at first. He’d assumed Kenobi was just another Jedi, another pawn in the service of the Republic, albeit one with spark and determination. One who was willing to listen to a bounty hunter, work beside him, one who met Jango’s eyes, even after what he’d done. Even after what the Jedi had done to him.
Jango pulled out his primary blaster and checked the clip, slid it back into the holster and adjusted a knife.
Kenobi was a shining fool, too willing to throw himself in front of a blaster for others, someone who believed that just because people needed help they should get it, and-- The world was going to break him, teaching him the folly of such thoughts.
Jango swallowed, hard, adjusting his helmet. The galaxy chewed up people like Kenobi and spat them out again. It was just the way of things, sure as gravity. Fighting against it was pointless.
Jango exhaled and turned towards the door of the cave.
He’d thought he was done fighting pointless battles.
But something about the idea of the light going out from behind Kenobi’s eyes ate away at him. And, besides, they were betrothed now. If Jango didn’t go to him, it would break the bonds between them, irrevocably.
You could not wed someone whose battles you would not fight. Even if they returned alive, how could they ever look upon someone who betrayed them thus? How could there ever be trust? How could there be anything?
Jango swore, under his breath, and went out.
#
#
“What are you doing in here?” Jango demanded, when Kenobi slid through the door, while he was barely half-way done sewing up the cut across his side.
Kenobi blinked at him, a frown settling across his mouth. “Well, I was planning to help you with that,” he said, stepping closer, bold as anything. “I didn’t expect that you’d be trying to do it yourself.”
Jango worked to keep his expression blank, even as his heart gave a treacherous little lurch. He looked away from Kenoobi’s expectant expression, and snapped, “I don’t need help. I’ve been stitching myself up since before you were born.”
“I doubt that very much,” Kenobi said, moving another step closer and reaching out, putting a hand on Jango’s shoulder. Jango thought, for an instant, about striking him. But-- “And if you’ve learned how to stitch up your own back, that’s a trick I’d love to see. You must let me help, unless you plan to leave this half finished.”
#
#
“Where were you?” Jango snapped, twisting to look over his shoulder, the controls of the kriffing barely functional ship fighting him. He’d flown worse heaps of junk, but not by much, and they’d taken fire - more than they should have - because he’d waited like a kriffing--
“Oh, I remembered something we’d left behind,” Kenobi said, not even sounding out of breath, for all that he was streaked with sweat and blood. He was smiling, too, but he was always smiling. He’d been smiling, too, when he darted out of the hanger, back into the complex proper, ignoring Jango and common sense.
“Nothing we left behind would have--”
He cut off, words frozen in his chest, when Kenobi stepped fully into the cockpit, and he finally saw what the Jedi was carrying, cradled carefully in both hands.
#
#
“We’ve had contact with your Order, boy,” the man yelled, across the distance between them, as Jango swallowed around the agony in his gut. He gripped at the pole driven through him, testing the give and finding that it had none. He could feel blood running out of him, following the pole as it continued out of his back, into the ground. “They’ve arranged for your safe transit off the planet. We don’t want you. Just the bounty hunter.”
Jango swore, knocking his head back against the rock. And he knew, perfectly well, that this was where things ended. This was where Kenobi took the deal and walked away. Hell, Jango didn’t even blame him for it.
It was a good deal, as such things went.
He looked over, planning to at least spit some words of bile as Kenobi turned and left him, and found Kenobi still standing within the entrance to the cave. As he watched Kenobi knelt and dragged his hand through the dirt outside, in a line from one side of the cave to the other.
“Jedi?” the man called, his voice sharper, “Did you hear me?”
“I heard,” Kenobi said, standing easily and shrugging off his outer tunic. He walked back to Jango, blue eyes fierce and clear, and pressed it into his hand. Another step, Jango noted, somewhere dizzy in the back of his head. Kenobi flashed him a smile, sharp and cocky, and said, “Press that on the wound. And keep cutting.”
“You agree to give him to us, then?” the man yelled, as Kenobi stepped away, back to the entrance of the cave and then through it. He rolled his shoulders back, shifting his weight from foot to foot, and Jango’s heart clenched, hard, in his chest, because--
“You want him so bad?” Kenobi asked, chin tilting up, shadows dancing across the cave walls as he turned on his lightsaber and spun it, bandages around his hands, tone sure and taunting, Jango’s fierce and impossible betrothed-- “Come and try to take him.”
And Jango could only stare for a long moment, unable even to breathe, because people like Kenobi didn’t exist, they didn’t and--
And Kenobi was going to die, standing there in the mouth of the cave, a line drawn between him and Jango. He was going to die, cut down by those come for Jango’s head, and Jango wished, dizzy, that Kenobi had betrayed him, had gotten himself away.
But he hadn’t, because he was an impossible person, because he thought people ought to act a certain way and then he acted that way, daring the universe to try to stop him. He thought you shouldn’t leave someone to die, that you shouldn’t give them up to save your own skin and--
Jango watched him move, in the mouth of the cave, beautiful as a song as the blaster fire started. And he bent back to the pole through his gut, carving through it, because--because Obi-Wan was an impossible person and Jango wasn’t going to let him die, wasn’t going to let the universe destroy him.
#my writing kind of#jangobi#new years wip clean out#i have one other one after this#accidental courtship au#but it's longer
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I Bought A Ring (e.b.)
Summary: Abby’s back and Buck doesn’t know how to handle the news. And neither do you.
AN: i’m still PISSED that abby came back even if only for an episode, my poor buck was so hurt ): this was something i had deep in my drafts and now that buck is blowing up it seemed like a good time to post it!
there is a buck fic similar to this and i just wanna say that i did not copy or steal the idea. i’ve had this in my drafts for months since season 3 ended so no one stole anyone’s idea! if you wanna check out their fic their username is @lotsoflovefromlea and the fic is titled ‘Second Best’ it’s really really good
You didn’t think you’d have to face the day when Buck’s past came back to haunt him. You were hoping it would stay in the past and you would be his future. But life has a funny way of putting us to the test.
After the train crash, and Buck saw Abby again, he had been acting distant. Distant enough for you to notice that something was wrong. It wasn’t hard to notice, especially when the two of you live together.
He would rarely talk when you had the same shift at the 118, there was no conversation during dinner and he’d come to bed long after you had already fallen asleep.
It had gotten to the point where you didn’t even remember the last time he kissed you or touched you. And you had enough of the maltreatment.
You exited the shower and saw him standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter. You walked down the stairs and stood across from him, the tension between the two of you painfully obvious.
“What’s been going on with you?” You asked, breaking the ice. “What do you mean?” He asked, not meeting your gaze. “Seriously? Buck, you’ve been acting like I killed your dog for three weeks since the train crash. What the hell is going on?” You explained.
Buck sighed before looking up at you. He knew he couldn’t keep secrets from you. Including ones that could possibly change your relationship.
“Abby reached out to me. She wanted to meet up to talk.” He said. Buck could tell by the way your right eyebrow was raised and your eyes narrowed that you were not happy. “Really? And you went?” You asked. “Yeah.” Buck answered quietly.
You laughed bitterly before walking around the counter back towards the stairs. “God, you just can’t seem to let her go, can you?” You started. “It’s been, what? Two years? Two years since she left you for her ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ experience and got engaged? And who was the one who never left your side? Me. It was me, Evan and even now, you can’t seem to realize how terrible she was to you. Face it, you were her midlife crisis and you fell in love with her and never fell back out. All while making me fall in love with you.” You finished.
Sure you were a tad bit cruel, but it was what he needed to hear. No one wanting to be the one who had to pop his perfect bubble when it came to Abby.
“I stayed with you when you were suing the department for christ sake! And I can’t do it anymore, Evan.” You added. There it was again. His dreaded first name. The name you never used unless you were beyond angry with him. And he hated hearing it come from your lips. “Y/N, what do you mean?” He asked.
Fear was coursing through his body as he waited for you to finally leave him. After everything he put you through, Abby was the last straw.
“I mean, maybe we should take a break. Until you figure out what it is you really want.” You answered. It wasn’t something you wanted nor did you think it would ever happen. “No. No, no, Y/N, don’t do this.” He begged, walking towards you. “I have too. Since she came back, this relationship has been one sided and I don’t deserve that.” You said.
“Please, Y/N, I love you.” Buck told you. “Do you? Because you have a funny way of showing it.” You replied. You swiftly grabbed your keys and your purse and made a path towards the exit. “So this is it? You’re breaking up with me?” Buck asked, causing you to stop.
“I don’t want to. But you seem to have unresolved feelings for Abby and you can’t claim to love one person wholeheartedly when you clearly don’t. Figure it out, Buck. But remember who was here when no one else was.” You answered before leaving the house.
You didn’t know where else to go after you left. So you decided to go to Bobby and Athena’s. Bobby was like a father to you when you joined the 118 and you trusted him more than you trusted most people.
After trying to straighten yourself up and wipe the tears from your face, you got out of the car and headed to the front door. You knocked a couple of times and waited for the door to open.
When it did, Athena’s face softened when she saw you and instantly knew something was wrong. “Y/N? What’s wrong? What happened?” She asked, ushering you inside. “I didn’t know where else to go.” You answered.
Bobby, wondering who was at the door, turned the corner and saw you standing in the entryway. “Y/N, what’s wrong?” He asked. “Buck and I got into a fight. He went to meet up with Abby and he didn’t tell meand I just, I just don’t understand why he won’t let her go. Am I not enough?” You explained.
Athena shushed you and pulled you into a hug to comfort you. She knew Buck was stubborn but not so much that you felt you had to leave. Bobby was furious. He hated seeing you so upset and he was frustrated with the young man for making you think you weren’t enough for him.
After a few minutes, Athena made up the guest bedroom for you and said you could stay as long as you needed. But you hoped it wouldn’t have to be for long.
__
Bobby arrived at the station in search for Buck and found him sulking while Hen and Chimney were grilling him about his mood. “What’s wrong with you today?” Chimney asked. “Him and Y/N got in a fight last night and she walked out on him.” Bobby answered for him.
Buck looked up at his captain with wide eyes, wondering how he knew about the prior events. “She stayed at mine and Athena’s last night.” He added. Buck let out a sigh of relief, mainly because he was worried sick about you. You didn’t answer a single one of his calls or texts and he didn’t know where you went off to.
“Why did she walk out on you?” Hen asked. “Because I may have went to meet up with Abby the other day. And apparently I had been acting distant towards Y/N and she confronted me.” Buck explained. “Seriously? You still have feelings for Abby?” Hen asked. “No, Hen-” Buck tried to explain but was interrupted by his coworkers.
“Y/N is the perfect girl for you and you’re throwing her away for someone who left you?” She continued. “Hen,” Buck started. “You’re stupid but not this stupid.” She said. “Hen! I don’t have feelings for Abby anymore. I wanted to give her a chance to explain why she left and to thank her. Because if she wouldn’t have left, I wouldn’t have met Y/N.” Buck interrupted.
“And I,” He started before he stopped himself, not sure if he wanted to tell everyone his secret. “You what?” Eddie asked. Buck looked up at his friends before sighing. “I bought a ring.” He answered. “Wait, what?” Chimney asked. “I bought a ring. I was going to propose but then I got all in my head after Abby showed up. I thought Y/N would say no and she’d leave me just like Abby did.” Buck explained.
The rest of the 118 crew was silent as they looked down at Buck. Hen sat down across from him before speaking. “That girl is head over heels in love with you, Buck. She has been since the first time she met you and the last thing she would do is leave you like Abby did. Though, because of Abby, she felt she had no choice.” She said.
“I need to get her back. I didn’t even know what to do this morning without her.” Buck said. “When does she come in for her shift?” He asked Bobby. “She was supposed to be here by now. She left before me.” The man answered.
Before anyone could form a theory about your whereabouts, the bell went off signaling they had a call.
They soon arrived to the scene of a car accident, one car completely flipped upside down.
The 118 stopped short, however, when they noticed who’s car was upside down. It was yours that was hit by a guy texting and driving and ran a red light.
“Y/N?” Buck called, running to the driver side door. “Buck, you’re too close to this.” Bobby stopped him. “We’re all too close to this, Bobby.” Buck rebutted. Bobby looked at Athena and gestured for her to keep Buck away from the scene. “Keep him away from her.” He instructed his. wife.
Eddie began trying to get the door off and Hen and Chimney noticed you were still conscious, struggling to get out and stay awake.
“Y/N, can you hear me?” Hen asked. “Yeah. I-I can hear you.” You stammered. “I have a piece of shrapnel between the third and fourth intercostal space. Mild to severe concussion and around three broken ribs, and a possible pulmonary contusion.” You told them.
Both EMTs were surprised that you could still diagnose and recognize your symptoms while having a concussion and actively bleeding.
Once the door was off the car, Hen and Chimney set down the backboard and Eddie began cutting your seatbelt.
“Where’s Buck?” You asked him. “Bobby won’t let him help. He’s too close to this one.” Eddie answered. “Aren’t you all though?” You joked. Eddie laughed dryly as the seatbelt was cut free. “Can you move?” He asked.
You looked down at the piece of metal from the seat and back up at him. “You have to pull it out.” You told him. “Y/N,” Eddie started. “Eddie, you have to pull it out or I won’t be able to move. I have a concussion, I’m already bleeding and in about five minutes I’m going to pass out. I will slowly bleed out from the inside if I don’t move. Pull the damn thing out.” You snapped.
Eddie looked at you for a moment before glancing over at Buck, arguing with Athena. As Eddie pulled the piece of metal out of your side, Buck broke free of Athena’s grasp and fell to his friend’s side.
“Y/N, baby, are you okay?” He asked frantically. “I’m going to pass out in a couple of seconds so I’m sorry, Buck. For what happened last night.” You spoke, your breathing becoming shallower. “Buck we gotta move her.” Eddie told him.
Your eyes fell closed slowly and the heart rate monitor attached to you started beeping rapidly. “We gotta get her out now.” Hen instructed. Bobby pulled Buck back as he watched in horror while his friends began giving you CPR once they pulled you from the car.
Your heart beat thankfully went back to normal and Chimney and Hen loaded you into the back of the ambulance.
Buck took the liberty of joining you considering he was your emergency contact, having no other family in LA.
Once the ambulance arrived at the hospital, Buck, Chimney and Hen were forced to stay at the ER bay, not being allowed to go with you.
Buck watched as the doctors took you away and this quickly became his worst nightmare. What if you didn’t make it? What if the last conversation you had was a fight?
Bobby’s hand rested on Buck’s shoulder as they all watched you disappear down the hallway.
__
It had been hours. Hours of the 118 sitting in the waiting room for you to come out of surgery. Buck was a nervous wreck and no amount of consoling from Maddie or Eddie made it any better. He knew she should have told you about meeting with Abby but he was afraid of ruining everything. But not telling you made it ten times worse.
“Evan Buckley?” A doctor called, alerting the entire crew. “Th-That’s me. I’m Evan Buckley.” Buck replied. “Y/N is going to be okay. We repaired the damage to her lung as well as the other internal damage she received from the car crash. She still had a major concussion and she’ll be out of commission for a while, but she got incredibly lucky.” The doctor explained.
Buck let out a very visible sigh of relief, as did everyone else. “Can I see her?” Buck asked. “She’s in the ICU so only a couple of people at a time.” The doctor said. “You go, Buck. We’ll see her when she’s moved to a normal room.” Bobby told him.
He nodded his head and followed the doctor to your room. He saw you lying in the hospital bed, multiple IVs in your hands and arms and an oxygen tube in your nose.
Your eyes were still closed but he could tell you were awake, though hearing the doctor’s voice alerted you.
“Y/N, someone’s here to see you.” You turned your head slightly and saw Buck standing in the doorway. “Hi.” You said quietly, your voice still hoarse from the breathing tube in surgery.
Buck sat in the chair next to you, his eyes red and watering. “I am so sorry, Y/N,” He whispered. “I should have told you about Abby but I met with her to get closure. And to thank her because if she wouldn’t have left me, I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you.” He added.
“It’s okay. I should have let you explained.” You replied. “I have something else to tell you.” Buck said. “Oh no, now what?” You joked. “I bought a ring.” He said. “Like, a ring ring?” You questioned. “Yes, a ring ring.” Buck laughed. “Where is it?” You asked.
Buck let go of your hand for a moment and fished the piece of jewelry out of his pocket.
“You have to put it on for me.” You said. Buck looked at you in disbelief as he smiled, sliding the ring on your left finger. “I’m assuming that’s a yes.” He said. “Of course it is. I’d be stupid to say no to you.” You told him with a smile.
Buck squeezed your hand gently as he looked at the ring on your finger. “I never want to come that close to losing you ever again.” He muttered. “You won’t. I don’t plan on leaving you for a long time.” You said. “Good. Because I really don’t know what I’d do without you.” Buck said.
He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on your forehead as you looked down at the ring. “You did a good job.” You commented. Buck laughed at your comment, causing a smile to grace your face. “Hen and Maddie helped.” He said. “I figured as much.” You replied.
The rest of the evening, or whatever time of day you thought it was, Buck stayed by your side. Even when the doctors were running their tests and looking over your condition. After almost losing you, there was no way you were going to get rid of Buck even for a moment.
#imagine#imagines#911 imagine#911 fox#911 lone star#evan buckley#evan buckley imagine#evan buckley x reader#evan buckley oneshot#oliver stark
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I'm Not Afraid - Chapter 1
Word Count: 3,325
Characters: Female Reader Argent Character, Original Male Argent Character, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore
Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father's sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin's, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.
*DISCLAIMER*
I do not own in any way Teen Wolf, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and MTV Network.
The only thing I own is Argent Reader insert, her immediate family, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others' storyline.
Chapter: 1/?
Chapter Description: (Y/N) finally arrives at Beacon Hills for the funeral of her aunt and meets a certain wolf to which she feels a special connection.
A/N: Second fandom I'm writing for. I love Teen Wolf so much and the trope of hard Derek but only soft for you makes my heart sing. If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.
Next ->
Chapter 1
I hugged the black coat to my body as hard as I could whilst pushing through the sea of press. Our family's last name became quite known after the reports about my aunt, whose burial we were attending. She had allegedly burned down a house with people in it. She killed them in cold blood. I hugged my grieving uncle and his less grieving wife, then my cousin who had a painful look on her face. I hugged her the longest. She let herself crumble on my arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Even though she was a horrible person she was still our aunt, family.
I took my seat behind Allison when my father, my mother, uncle Chris, and aunt Victoria stood up. Allison didn't lift her head and neither did I. I just tried to comfort her.
"It's been such a long time I don't expect you to call me grandpa." We both looked up to see a white-haired man who resembled the Argent features. "Don't worry about it, just call me Gerard." He hugged both of us, an overpowering aura emanating from his being. When we were engulfed, I looked to the side and saw two boys squatting behind a gravestone. If they were hiding, they were doing a horrible job at it.
"But I prefer Grandpa," Gerard said walking to his seat. I sat back down and drifted off during the whole ceremony. Once it was over, I joined my parents and we drove to our new house. I have a feeling that life here will be very interesting.
That weekend I decided that I had been putting working out off for too long. I changed into comfortable workout clothes and gave food to my dog, Brody. I headed out the door, put my earbuds on, and started to jog. I really didn't know where I was going since it was a new place for me, all I know is that I kept running until I reached the woods. The bad thing about this, I had no idea how to get back home. Even though I knew of this sidetrack and I knew I would be late to get back home, I kept running, needing a release from the mundane feeling of being new in town and having to reunite from our estranged family in a funeral.
I had gained a lot of momentum. God knows how fast I was running at this point that is until I hit something, it almost felt like a wall. When I looked up, I saw a very handsome guy. Spiked hair, green eyes, and slight stubble. If it weren't for the fact that I was already sweaty I would have started to sweat showers of how nervous I was. That is until he opened his mouth.
"Watch where you're going." He growled at me.
"How about you fucking move and not be a prick?" He looked at me with big eyes, probably in surprise, but quickly changed to his menacing look. Who was he trying to fool?
"Well, this is private property, which means that you're trespassing, meaning you should pay more attention to your surroundings."
"I'm sorry but a burnt-down house with almost no walls or roof is barely a property. So, how about you stop being an idiot and I can be on my way." I started to jog once again but he gained my attention once more.
"You're new here, aren't you?" I turned around to face him.
"What's it to you?" He raised his eyebrow.
"I'll take that as a yes." The cockiness oozed out of his pores.
"And why the hell should that matter?"
"Because no one would dare talk to me that way."
"Who would be afraid of a little sour wolf?" He tensed up. "Dude, chill. I'm just kidding. But I doubt anyone would be afraid of Mr...."
"Hale. Derek Hale." He said extending his hand to me. Gee, after screaming at me he wants us to be acquaintances. I thought about not shaking his hand, but I didn't want to be rude. Well, more than I have been already.
"(Y/N). Argent." I shook his hand. Strong grip. Suddenly I felt a rush of déjà vu; I had met him the day before. "Wait, aren't you that guy I accidentally hit with my grocery cart yesterday?"
"Yeah, that really hurt. You hit my ankle. You could've had me limping."
"But you're not, so be grateful I didn't break your ankle." He laughed. "Damn, if I had known how cocky you really were, I would've hit you harder."
"So, you admit that you hit me?"
"Oh yeah, of course, I hit you. Accidentally that is."
"Yeah, yeah."
I looked around trying to find where the hell I had come from but there wasn't even the slightest trail as to where I was to go.
"So, miss (Y/N). Do you even know your way home?"
"No, but I'm sure I can find my way back." Then, he took keys out of his pocket and pointed to his car.
"Come on, I'll drive you around and you just tell me when something seems familiar."
"And why should I go with the guy that almost ripped out my throat for bumping into him? For all I know you could be driving me to my death." I crossed my arms over my chest, and he let out a loud sigh.
"Look, I'm sorry for snapping. But I'm trying to be nice. That doesn't happen very often."
"Alright, Mr. Hale. I'll let you take me home just because you are being nice now, after being a prick, and I'm exhausted."
"See, no one can resist me." I rolled my eyes at his cockiness. Seriously does he buy cans of it on eBay?
"Don't get cocky with me. I can punch the living daylights out of you." He chuckled and started to drive.
We drove for about 20 minutes until I finally recognized the curb that led to my house. Upon arriving at my driveway, I got out of the car and walked to the driver’s side.
"Give me your hand” For some reason, I felt compelled to do so. He took a pen and wrote down a number. "Call me if you ever need a tour of the town."
Three weeks later, I walked inside the school to meet up with Allison. I moved here with my family since dad had some business taking float. Being the new kid in town is never fun. I would know. I switch schools almost every year. The pro and con about this would be not being attached to anyone. Usually, I'm the one who doesn't talk to anyone and is called a freak. A derogatory term given to people who are way too different from others, but a title I wore proudly.
"Oh my gosh, (Y/N)! How have you been?" Allison wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tightly. It was as if she hadn't seen me just three weeks ago.
"Hi, Allison. I've been good, getting acclimated to the new town. You?" You would think that because we were cousins, I would be more affectionate towards her but honestly, I wouldn't see her again for like three more years, so what's the point?
"I'm good. A little rocky at the start of coming here but good." Then, a boy with a buzz cut and one with great brown hair walked by and smiled at Alli. "Ooh, you should come meet my friends. Stiles, Scott!! Come here." The boys turned around with goofy grins on their faces.
"Hey, Allison. Who's this?" Buzzcut kid said.
"This is my cousin, (Y/N). She just moved here from Virginia."
"Pleasure to meet you. I'm Scott." The one with the great hair said.
"Nice to meet you, I'm Stiles." I shook their hands and smiled.
"Nice to meet you, too, buzzcut." Allison and Scott laughed but Stiles only ran his hand through his hair, suddenly becoming hyperaware of his lack of locks.
"Allison. Who might this sexy lady be?" I rolled my eyes. The last thing I need is a narcissist with a god-complex trying to get close.
"Oh, Jackson, this is my cousin, (Y/N)."
"Hi." He extended his hand and looked me up and down.
"Hi." I smiled sarcastically, and when I didn't extend my hand, he dropped his.
Finally, after standing awkwardly behind Allison whilst her friends talked, the bell rang. Talk about saved by the bell.
"Hey, (Y/N), what's your first class?" I checked my schedule.
"Um, chemistry."
"Oh, good, then you're coming with us to Mr. Harris' class," Scott said pointing towards him and Stiles. I smiled and walked behind them.
Once we got to the classroom everyone turned to me, the ever-present sign of being new in the class evident in the stare of my classmates.
"Um, hi, my name is (Y/N) Argent and I'm new." The teacher, whom I guess is Mr. Harris, turned around to face me.
"Oh, yes, Miss Argent. Welcome. You will be sitting next to Isaac Lahey. Lahey, raise your hand." Once Isaac raised his hand, I noticed he was sat near Stiles and Scott. Two people I was trying to avoid. As I walked past, I accidentally pushed Stiles' book on his lap, startling him, resulting in an awkward descent from his lab stool onto the floor.
"Hi, again. I guess we are gonna see a lot of each other for the rest of the school year." I nodded and he scratched the back of his neck. "So, um, what school did you come from?"
"Lancaster High," I responded whilst writing down what Mr. Harris was writing on the board. Stiles kept trying to talk to me, but I would only give him short, cold answers or just ignore him. That is until Mr. Harris called our attention, that's when he finally got the memo to shut up.
"I'm sorry to bother you, but I just wanted to introduce myself since we're gonna be seated next to each other all year. I'm Isaac."
"I figured." I tried giving him my best smile. The vibe he was giving off seemed like he needed it. "I'm (Y/N)."
"Well, nice to meet you, (Y/N). Now I'll leave you to the class because if I don't I know I'll be failing even more than I am."
"Oh, well, maybe I can tutor you some time. I'm actually really good at science. My mom was a chemist professor once upon a time so I'm bound to understand all this."
"Really?!" His puppy eyes seemed to light up and I nodded. "That would actually be amazing."
"Sure thing. Now let's get back to class."
After Chemistry finished, I put everything in my bag as quickly as possible and sped to my next class, Math. Thankfully, none of Allison's friends shared this class with me but I did share it with Isaac. I didn't consider him much a friend but more an acquaintance in desperate need of help.
As the day progressed, I noticed the rest of my classes were shared with one or more of Allison's friends. They all tried to strike up a conversation but were quickly discouraged when met with my one-worded or vague answers. Especially, Stiles. He tried especially hard to get answers out of me, only being met with the occasional laugh or stare at his comical occurrences. He seemed like the kind of person you could just open up to. The same could be said about Scott. His shy nature was alluring, and he portrayed himself as a very trustworthy and loyal being.
But I would not allow myself to let them in. My whole being yearned for a real friendship, someone to share nothing and everything; never again.
At lunch, I sat outside and ate my food quietly, a book in front of my face to shield my eyes from the sun the prevalent stares of my peers. After some minutes of appreciated loneliness, the empty table was filled with conversating teenage bodies. I smiled politely but, in my mind, I was cursing them out.
"So, (Y/N), how's your day been?" Allison asked whilst munching on an apple. I swallowed what was left of my bite and answered.
"Fine, thank you." This time no one pressed on after my short answers, finally getting the hint of my disinterest. In the corner of my eye, I saw Isaac sitting under a tree munching on half a sandwich. I excused myself and went to join him, heavily enjoying his tranquil aura.
"Oh, hi, (Y/N)." He smiled sheepishly.
"Hey, Isaac. Is that all you're eating?"
"Yeah. I'm not very hungry." He looked down as if he were ashamed.
"Nonsense! Here," I gave him the other half of my burger and another bag of chips I had in my bag. "You can't tell me you're not hungry. You're a boy in peak development."
"Thanks." He smiled as he continued munching on his food. I put on some music and we continued eating in silence. No conversation required.
The day went on smoother than it started. Classes flew by fairly quickly and the incessant chit-chat seemed to diminish. During last period I was like every other student, anxiously waiting for the bell to signal the end of the school day. When my pleads were answered, I packed the necessary book into my bag and left the rest in my locker, expertly avoiding any more social encounters. Quickly, I made my way to the waiting open car door of my father's car, ignoring Allison's beckoning me t.wards the small group of friends.
"How was your first day, darling?" My father spoke up breaking my attention from the scenery.
"Like any other first day I've had." I smiled. "The towns might change but school is always the same."
Finally at home, we were greeted with the sight of my mother cooking; people were coming over.
"(Y/N), honey, Chris, Victoria, and Allison are coming over tonight. So, go do a quick workout and come back to get ready." I nodded and ran to my room to change into workout clothes.
My routine would normally consist of waking up, working out, go to school for a dreading eight hours, come back home, workout again, do my homework, eat, and go to sleep. I lead a very monotonous life and it had been this way since I could remember. One of my earliest memories was of my father teaching me archery alongside Allison, a great distraction to our always disrupted home life. As I got older, my father started training me in boxing and knife maneuvering. How would these skills help me in life were still a mystery but I felt safe knowing them.
I got changed and decided to take Brody out with me on a quick jog through the woods. "Hey, boy, ready to go?"
He jumped on me which I took as a yes and started for the woods. We ran down the same trail I had been going on for the past three weeks. Mostly, I went down this track in hopes that Derek would make an appearance, and today was not the exception. As the ruins of his house came to view so did his tall figure.
"Trespassing again?"
"It doesn't count if I know the owner." During our greeting, Brody's leash slipped out of my hand and he ran to jump on Derek, leaving slobbering licks on his cheek. "I'm so sorry."
"Don't worry about it." He chuckled and helped me bring him down.
"I guess he likes you, even though he doesn't like anyone but me. Guess you're special."
"Maybe." He grinned.
Out of nowhere, I hit him in the shoulder. "What was that for?!"
"For trying to run me over with your shopping cart two days ago. It was uncalled for."
"No, it was revenge. You hit ME first. In the ankle."
"You're still on with that. Come on, sour wolf. That happened three weeks ago, and it was an accident."
"Whatever. Come on, I'll give you a ride home. It's getting kind of dark." This had also become part of my routine. After "bumping" into Derek he would offer to drop me off at my house, claiming it was for security.
"Okay, we're here. By the way, the offer to show you around town is still up. Just call me whenever." He said as he stopped the car in front of my house.
"Alright, will do, and thanks for the ride, Derek. I'd invite you in, but my family is coming over."
"No worries, maybe another time."
"It's a date. Anyways, thanks again. See you when I see you."
"Okay, goodnight."
"Night." He waited until I entered the house and drove away.
"Munchkin, is that you?" My father screamed from the kitchen.
"Yeah!" I screamed back.
"Okay, well, go take a shower and get ready your uncle will get here soon."
I hurried up the stairs and hopped in the shower letting the hot water stream down my body calming any aching muscle that was palpitating. In my room, I searched through my closet for an acceptable family dinner outfit, deciding a grey sweater and black jeans would be enough. I braided my hair out of my face and went downstairs to help my mother set the table.
After we put the last plate the doorbell rang.
"I'll get it!" I ran to the door and was greeted by my uncle. "Uncle Chris!" I jumped and he hugged me. There was no doubt that he was my favorite family member, his presence was always welcoming. His wife on the other hand was as cold as the winters we spent in New York. She was nice but absolutely scary. "Hi, Aunt Victoria."
"Hello, (Y/N)." I hugged her and said hi to Allison.
"Come in, guys." They walked in and I closed the door behind them.
"So, (Y/N), how have you been?" Uncle Chris asked while stuffing his mouth with mom's famous lasagna.
"I've been good. I mean, moving all the time takes a toll on you at first, but I got used to it. It's easy now to pack it all up once the school year ends."
"Oh, honey, that must be so hard on you," Victoria said. I could not read her tone, her words spoke in sympathetic notes with an underlying melody of sarcasm. Not knowing what to answer, I bit my lip and nodded.
The whole evening was spent on us catching up and eating, laughing, playing games, but the good times came to an end when the clock hit 9:00 pm. It was stupid to set a curfew, but my mom usually had everyone in bed at this time, 10:30 as of late.
"You better come around the house more often." Uncle Chris demanded and hugged me.
"Yes, sir." I raised my hand to my eyebrow and saluted, as did he.
"Let's go, Chris. And thank you for the lovely dinner, Rebecca," Victoria said linking arms with my uncle and smiling at mom.
"No problem. Come by any time." They talked for a bit more and after they left, I went upstairs to change for bed.
"Momma, I'm gonna go to sleep."
"Okay, honey. Goodnight." I went upstairs, brushed my teeth, and put my hair in a ponytail.
Before bed, I made sure everything I would need for the next day was packed into my bag and made sure my alarm was set. I pulled all the throw pillows from my bed and set them aside, then making my way to the window to draw the curtains. Something caught my attention in the backyard, though. My eyes squinted trying to make out the figure in front of me. Blinking the confusion away, I made a double-take and looked back at an empty yard. I laughed to myself as I crept into bed. Why would Derek be in my backyard?
Next ->
#derek hale#derek hale imagine#stiles stilinski#derek hale x reader#teen wolf imagine#teen wolf smut#derek hale smut#scott mccall imagine#scott mccall#lydia martin#allison argent#chris argent#jackson whittemore#fanfiction#ao3#wattpad#writing#isaac lahey#isaac lahey x reader#reader insert
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killing peggy carter
summary: you want revenge bc steve’s a bitch. (happy times, save for steve’s disappearance. everyone’s alive tho)
warnings: a darker steve. rough smut, a little questionable at times. a lot of angst bc i was in a mood.
pairing: steve rogers x reader, peggy carter x reader for a sec, and some steve x peggy ( 🤢 )
word count: about 9,800
a/n: not tagging anyone bc no one asked for this, i literally just wrote it like forever ago and decided to post it bc i haven’t posted in forever. also, if you go back far enough on my blog, you will see that i watch riverdale and honestly, i came up with this title before jughead wrote his emo story in the finale.
When Steve left, it was nothing short of devastating.
Your world had stopped. How could it not? You had been under the impression that someone was in love with you as much as you were in love with them. And god, you were so damn in love with Steve Rogers.
It had been a year and it still hurt just like it had that first day. You were better at hiding it now, using that as the only entertainment in your life. Being an Avenger wasn’t the same as it used to be. The world was good, you weren’t needed. Especially not while all these feelings of anger and resentment were growing inside you.
When Steve left, he took a lot. He took your heart, your soul, your fucking will to love and let yourself be loved, and he took your ability to be a hero. No hero had the darkness you had. No hero stayed out most nights dancing in sweaty and noisy clubs, being groped by strangers she couldn’t even take home because she was the definition of damaged. You had trust issues for days, and they weren’t going anywhere any time soon, if ever.
Bucky tried to help and sometimes, you had the energy to fake it. It always made him so happy to see you smiling or just talking to other men who clearly were attracted to you. But nothing would come of it. You couldn’t believe a word that any one of them said.
Steve used to look at you, tell you he loved you, tell he needed you, that he couldn’t do any of this without you. Then he had the chance to go back to Peggy Carter and he took it in a second, no hesitation. He didn’t even say goodbye.
You stayed out on the lake for three months, figuring he’d just gotten tied up. He would come back, you told yourself that every night. What finally broke you was when Nat and Bucky sat you down and told you it wasn’t going to happen. You’d always known but with confirmation from the two people that knew him best, you had to face reality. He’d left you and he wasn’t coming back.
It was a huge hit to your self-esteem. Maybe if you had been prettier. Smarter. Stronger. Better. But you were just you. Petty, small, aching. Ironically, that was how he had found you as well. The Avengers liked to bring in team members who had already been through too much. You hadn’t realized how vulnerable your past trauma made you to their type of coercion. You would do anything any of them asked. With Steve, it was different. More. And he had always known.
There was this pain in your chest that never went away. Sometimes you woke up gasping in the middle of the night, usually after a nightmare. It was as if there had been a hand around your neck. But there wasn’t because you were as alone as anyone could possibly be.
You didn’t mind it anymore. Hell, it was the only thing that you still had left of Steve. You burned everything else and not even that made you feel better. This was all much to Bucky’s dismay.
You would never tell a soul that you couldn’t part with his sketchbooks, that you had them hidden in a box underneath your bed. It was no one’s right to know. This pain was your own, the only thing you still had possession of.
You hadn’t been touched in his absence, even by yourself. It reminded you of all those times he would kiss along your skin and sing praises to your beauty. Sometimes, you wished you were ugly. Sometimes, you wished you could just get so ugly that no one would even want to look at you.
But that was not the case. You were that beautiful, strong, and caring woman Steve had fallen in love with, so they claimed. You were their responsibility. Their project. They would get you through this if it was the last thing they did. Nat, Bucky, and Sam tried merely out of their loyalty to Steve. Tony followed that lead and that meant Peter tried as well as he could. Wanda, still consumed by her own lost love, attempted, but she was probably the only person who could see you for what you were.
Thrown out trash. Abandoned, sharp pieces that could and would cut anyone who tried to help. You hated all the rest of them for not seeing it. You hated all the rest of them because in their eyes, you were still Steve’s girl.
You no longer had a boyfriend, a family, or friends. He took all of that away from you. And one day, when you were so sick of having nothing to do but feel sorry for yourself, you decided that you were going to return that favor.
Steve Rogers deserved to be just as heartbroken and empty as you. It drove you crazy. He had been the one to pursue you. He had been the one to insist that you were his, even said you were the best thing to ever happen to him.
Talking Bruce into helping was laughably easy. You claimed to need closure. You claimed you just wanted to know that Steve was happy. You wanted to tell him you forgave him. Bruce hadn’t seen you look this happy in a long while so he did what anyone would and said yes.
You wanted to wait. Steve was always so sentimental, the anniversary of the day he met Peggy was probably a day of extreme affection in their house. He probably made her breakfast, bought her some piece of jewelry that she wouldn’t even like, and spent all day telling her how much he loved her. You wanted to crash the party.
Part of you wished there was another way to do this, but there just wasn’t. Killing Peggy was the only way to take anything from him, and you had these dark fantasies that he would then kill you in retaliation. What a beautiful way to go, you hoped he would strangle you. You hoped he would set you on his lap one final time, wrap his hands around your neck, and stare into your eyes until you were gone.
Peggy was a great person, that much you felt bad about. But hadn’t Steve practically murdered you? And you were a great person before all of this. An eye for an eye. Did he think you were just going to disappear? No, he wasn’t going to get away with this any longer. He wasn’t going to get his happiness after he had ruined your whole life.
You wanted some years on them, you told Bruce ten years. Steve would be just shy of 50. You wondered what he’d look like. When he left, he had just started to get some gray hairs. You could remember that morning vividly. You wouldn’t have noticed if the sun hadn’t been shining in through the blinds perfectly onto his blonde hair. He blushed about 7 shades of red, but you promised him you didn’t mind. Because you loved him. He said he loved you back. Like an idiot, you believed him.
You arrived in his time with little care to how you looked. You weren’t here for anyone but him. You didn’t mind that everyone was staring at you oddly because instead of some huge, ugly dress, you were wearing black pants, a low-cut t-shirt, and a leather jacket.
You did need a weapon, however. Guns were cowardly. Poison could be fun. A knife, though. A knife would certainly get the point across. You tucked it into your boot and then you were on your way.
You found Peggy’s house easily. Bruce had made sure you knew where you were going and what to do if they had moved or anything like that. You’d known they would be in the same place. You’d known Steve would want to live in this domestic, pathetic lie.
There was a window that looked into the living room. It was mid-day, you figured Peggy was at work. What did Steve even do? Was there a specific activity he liked pairing with all the pure nothingness he was doing while his best friend suffered in Hydra’s hands?
You saw him sitting in a recliner in what you assumed was the living room. His hair was almost all gray, he’d cut it much shorter. Like how he used to have it, before everything with Tony and Bucky. Like how he had it when you met him. His beard was just as light and he had a few prominent wrinkles on his forehead and around his mouth. But that was as far as his aging went. His arms were still huge, his shoulders so broad, and you had the strongest feeling that that ass had held up.
You were about to go in, make your presence known when you realized he was reading a book. Your favorite book. He must have taken it with him because that looked distinctly like one of your many copies you hadn’t seen for quite some time.
You were furious, shaking and seeing red. No matter how hard you tried to breathe, you just couldn’t. You were going to cut Peggy’s heart about and show it to him. You were going to cover that ugly house with her blood. You were going to wreck him just as much as he wrecked you.
You watched Steve for three months and came to the harrowing conclusion that he was severely unhappy. Peggy would come home and they wouldn’t speak. They would sit down for dinner and say maybe five sentences to one another. They went to bed together, sometimes they had sex. You never stuck around for that because not only was that a major violation of her privacy, but damn, they were fucking boring.
When she woke up in the morning, he wouldn’t get up until she was gone. Then he would go for his run, you followed a couple of times as best you could to see if there was a piece of this puzzle you were missing. When he returned home, he would read or watch television, he went for a second run a few hours later, and returned home to do absolutely nothing but await her return.
Should this have made you happy? It didn’t. He would rather be unhappy with her than happy with you. But that was for one reason: his pride. He didn’t want to crawl back to you and admit that he made a mistake.
Your goals changed. You wanted to make him admit it. Not with words, he would never do that. But Steve was a faithful man. If you got him to stray, it would be indisputable.
You waited one morning until he was out on his run, then snuck into the house. You went through their kitchen, sometimes you moved things just to be a bitch. You went through their bedroom and discovered that Peggy had a terrible contraption that had the audacity to call itself a sex toy. That would be nice to throw in Steve’s face.
You tossed it onto the bed and got undressed as you made your way to the shower. Steve wouldn’t be gone much longer. And he would know something was very wrong when he saw your clothes.
You washed your hair, used Peggy’s soap, and only had to wait a couple of minutes after that. You heard him call out her name a few times. But then he got to the bedroom and you heard his steps hesitating.
“Peggy?”
He wouldn’t say your name, not ever. Because he could be wrong, he could be delusional. And to admit that he was still thinking about you after all this time, that was his idea of a loss.
You didn’t grab a towel as you pulled the shower curtain back and shut off the water. Dripping wet, you carefully padded across the tile floor and then out to the bedroom.
His eyes widened and he dropped to his knees. “What...what are you doing here?”
You shrugged, glancing around. “Thought I deserved a vacation.”
“Y/N, I am so—”
“Pathetic? Weak? Yeah, don’t worry, I know.” You moved closer to him, eyeing him pitifully. You were glad that you hadn’t crumbled. Months ago, you would have given anything just to hear his voice, just to see his fucking eyes. God, you hated him now.
“You’re angry, I understand.”
“Angry?” you scoffed. “Add dumb to the list.”
“I’m sorry that I hurt you—”
“You didn’t hurt me, you piece of shit. You destroyed me, you ruined my life. For all intents and purposes, you killed me. And I’m here to get my revenge.”
His eyebrows pulled together. “Revenge?”
You reached out to touch his face, trailed your fingers along his bottom lip. “Yeah, payback. I’m going to make sure I make you feel what you made me feel.”
He glared up at you. “Are you threatening me?”
“Yes.”
He finally stood, towering over you.
“Mmm, how I’ve missed this body.” You pressed yourself against him and as much as he acted like he didn’t like it, he never pulled away or tried to push you back. You were getting him wet and his shirt was starting to cling to his abs. You let your hands wander for a moment before they dropped down to his pants.
“Stop,” he said quietly.
And you did because you were never going to allow him to lie. Your turned up to him and stepped back.
He looked torn apart, confused. “Why are you here?”
You shrugged. “Why not?”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Well, it’s all you’re getting. You don’t need any other answer.”
“So, what’s the plan? How are you going to get your revenge?”
“I know you, Steve, I know that you believe in being a good and faithful man. I just want you to fuck me. That’s all.”
“Well, you know that’s not going to happen. You know I would never—”
“Cheat? So, then you’ve never fucked Peggy?”
“What?”
“You never left me, you never told me we were done. You, like the coward you are, just didn’t come back. Every time you’ve been with her is a lie, a cheat. You are a cheater.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?! You keep acting like there was just one thing! There were a million things, Steve. You ruined everything that we were building. And you can apologize all you want, but until I return at least half of it, I’m stuck here with you.”
“I won’t fuck you.”
“Yet,” you pointed out. “Well, I should be going.”
He grabbed your arm. “Go home.”
“I am home, baby. You’re here and you’re my home.”
He frowned.
You yanked yourself out of his hold, bending over to grab your clothing all over the room. He wasn’t going to fuck you but that did not mean he wasn’t going to look at you. So, you gave him quite the show, just like you had in the past upon his request.
You disappeared into the bathroom as if it was so natural, as if it was your own. He made no moves to follow and said nothing. As you dried yourself off, you decided now was as good a time as any. “See that terrible thing on your bed?”
You heard him step a few times, then nothing.
You scoffed. “Maybe it has to do with your age.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Still. Pretty creepy you came back to a much younger Peggy.”
“I came back to the one I left.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself.” You sauntered out and sent him one last smile before exiting the bedroom.
Peggy and Steve had a fight, so Peggy ducked out to some small diner. If you couldn’t get to him, you decided you were going to get to her. Peggy was sweet from the second you began speaking to her, feigning concern for her situation.
The first night you guys went out together, you wanted her to talk shit about Steve. She didn’t, she just got drunk and tried to get you much the same. You were taking her home because you truly were fearful of what would become of her without your help. And she kissed you. At first, you were startled, you pulled away out of fear and shock. She wasn’t Steve. In all your life since you’d met him, you never thought someone else was going to kiss you.
But then she looked terrified. Had she been reading you wrong? Had she messed everything up? Nah, you were adaptable. You kissed her back, explained you’d been hurt by some loser and it had been a while. She understood, or said she did, and then she was disappearing inside.
You were left wondering if Steve heard you, but not many lights in the house were on. He probably wasn’t home. Confirmed by your unlocked hotel door when you returned home just a couple of hours before sunrise.
Knowing it was him didn’t mean you weren’t going to pull your gun as you entered. He was sitting in one of the chairs at the tiny table near the tiny kitchen.
He arched an eyebrow. “That necessary?”
“I should have shot you the second I got here.” But you still tossed it onto the bed. “You know...this paints quite a scene, doesn’t it? You’re here, angry at me for being out late.” You let your purse fall to the floor, then your hideous cardigan. You had only shown up with one outfit, so shopping was necessary to keep up appearances. You didn’t know a lot about the 40s, but you didn’t want them to start burning women at the stake again because of you.
You made your way to him, straddling his lap as you took his face in your hands. “Are you upset that I broke curfew, daddy?”
He didn’t even bat an eye, but you knew that would get to him. “Where were you?”
“Out with your future wife.” One of many kickers, they had yet to get married. Peggy said it was because she wanted to wait. “Thought she would be willing to talk shit about you...thought it would make me feel better.”
“And? Did she give you anything you can use against me in the future?”
“Nah. She didn’t want to talk about you at all.”
He glared. “When are you going home?”
She shrugged. “Whenever I feel like it.” Your eyes moved over his face as you felt the deeply etched lines on his skin. “You don’t look 50 but I never thought... You remember when I found your gray hair?”
“Yeah... Thought you would leave me...that you’d want someone your age.”
“I like you like this, you know. Twice my age.”
“Have there been others?”
And just like that, the end of your friendly conversation. You pulled your hands away from him but stayed on top of him. “Others?”
“People...men you’ve let close.”
You scoffed. “Why would I do that?”
“I wanted...I thought you would move on.”
“People lie,” you pointed out. “You told me you loved me every day and then you just left. I can’t adequately explain to you how tired I am. I can’t do it again, I can’t even let myself try. I can’t get close to people the way I was close to you. I can’t move on. I can’t love someone else. I can’t do anything but hate you as much as I loved you.”
“I wasn’t lying—”
“You left. If you loved me as much as you said you did, you wouldn’t have been able to.”
“I do love you—”
You immediately pulled off him, rushing to get your feet back on the floor. No, no fucking way, he was not going to lie to you again. He was simply not allowed to anymore. You would not tolerate it.
“Y/N—”
“Get out of my hotel!” You pointed to the door. “Now, Steve, or I swear I will shoot you.”
He scoffed. “For what? Loving you?”
“You piece of shit.” You didn’t wait for him to say anything else. You stormed to the bathroom and locked the door before he could intrude yet again.
He knew you wouldn’t come back out, not while he was still there. All he could do was leave. For safe measure, he at least unloaded your gun and set it on the bedside table. Maybe if you had to find it and load again, you would lose some of your anger and not ended up taking a shot at him.
How dare he? He had no right to say that to you, no right to use that word. It meant nothing coming from him because there was the implied ‘but’ along with it. Before, he just loved you. Period. Now? He loved you. But what? He loved Peggy more? He loved this time more?
You thought you had been angry before. Even though the time you were spending with Peggy was diffusing that somewhat. Still, you never lost sight of what you wanted. Needed. The idea of Steve’s heartbreak was the only thing that could get you up in the morning.
He threw you off for a few days. Every time you tried to leave the hotel room just to do something a tad evil, you would end up in bed crying. Steve thankfully didn’t try to come back, you hated the thought of him seeing you like this, letting him know that he could still do this to you.
Peggy called. You gave her the number, just in case, and she used it to express her concern for you. It wasn’t like you not to want to hang out or to just be around and bump into her “randomly”. She invited you out for breakfast the first day, then lunch the next. You said you weren’t feeling well.
An excuse she stopped taking the third night. She wanted to go dancing with you, all while her asshole boyfriend stayed at home. How could you say no? You shouldn’t, this was the entire reason you were here.
You would kill her tonight. This time was a drag and you wanted to get home. To a place where you could wear pants or a t-shirt. A place where there weren’t so many preppy men in pastels or college sweaters.
Peggy picked you up, she wouldn’t stop staring. Had it been any other day, you might have even questioned why. But you weren’t going to enjoy this as much as you thought you would. It sucked, and honestly, it made you hate Steve even more. He was your downfall, he was also her downfall, but at least he would soon be utterly alone.
It had been hours. You were just trying to dance and let the music fill your mind, but this music was shit. If you had to hear one more man sing about wanting to hold a woman’s hand… Truly, you missed the filth of your time.
Peggy was the one that wanted to leave. Peggy was the one that wanted to walk away from all the noise of the city. Peggy was the one that took you to some sleazy motel, where she gave you the briefest of looks when she’d stopped you both on the sidewalk. She was also the one that kissed you when you didn’t say anything because what did you have to actually say?
Nothing. Not one thing. You had no idea how this plan had spiraled so terribly. You were meant to come here, kill her, throw it in Steve’s face, then bolt back home like none of it ever happened.
But you couldn’t kill her, not anymore, not after seeing what a miserable life she had with Steve. You hoped she would leave him, and not just to hurt him, but to help herself. You remembered the life she had in your world, the one she had created with your husband. It was so much better than the hell she was living in here.
So, you let her take you to a room. You let her kiss you, you let her tear your dress off, push you onto the bed, and crawl on top of you. Her lips moved everywhere over your legs, arms, and stomach, and they felt like fire because they belonged to someone who wasn’t Steve.
You hated how guilty you felt. You hated that your mind was seriously considering this a betrayal, cheating. But you were trying to be kinder to yourself. It wasn’t your fault that you had fallen so hard for someone and that you had made plans because someone had promised you forever.
She knew you were thinking about him. Not Steve, of course, but the someone you had once mentioned. She didn’t mind, she just promised she would try to make you forget. You forced yourself to be present, you turned off your mind when you could. She didn’t ask a lot of you, in reality.
She wanted to be on top, she wanted you to say her name and wouldn’t let you come until you asked nicely. It was probably around the third orgasm that you stopped feeling so awful, that all of those familiar sensations weren’t triggering memories and bitter resentment. That was what she gave you with her mouth alone and didn’t move until it was evident that your thoughts had simply melted away.
When she crawled back up to kiss you, she buried her fingers inside you. At that point, who the hell even was Steve Rogers? A distant, dull pain. Peggy was here, on top of you, biting your lip, telling you to come one more time, because she knew you had it in you.
She told you that you were beautiful, that she’d never seen a body like yours. She told you that you made her feel things Steve couldn’t, that you were fun and warm and kind, and she loved spending time with you.
You were covered in sweat, your skin painted with her lipstick and bites and other marks she left all over your skin. She hadn’t come yet and refused any offers you made her, she claimed she just wanted to focus on you for a moment.
When she finally pressed her soaking center against yours, you were in an odd amount of pain. You longed for something, so much, but you had no idea what. She pulled your hair, began kissing your neck, and rolled her hips hard. You pulled her hair back, pressed your hips up when she pressed down, whimpered her name, and told her she felt so good. It was when she started fucking you harder and faster, and you were getting really close once again, that you got the sick idea to rake your nails down her back. Hard enough to leave marks.
After her finish, she collapsed onto her side next to you. The way she looked at you was kind of scary, like you were worth a lot more than you knew you were. She also looked satisfied and you hadn’t seen that look since you’d shown up. And what a fucking crime that was. Yes, Steve was a dick, but fuck, that man could seriously fuck. Why was he denying her that?
You shoved her onto her back and sat on her face because you didn’t want to be thinking about him. She kept you there until you were shaking and so fuzzy you couldn’t even sit up on your own. A tad haphazardly, you insisted on getting your mouth on her. After some convincing on your part and a few pitying laughs from her as you nearly fell over the edge of the mattress because you were still dizzy, your tongue was sliding against her skin and her hands were locked in your hair.
She needed to get home, back to her boyfriend before he started to worry. You stuck around for a bit, reluctant to return to your apartment. Maybe this was it, maybe this was all you needed. Maybe it was just time to fucking go home.
You truly worried about all of the Bucky lectures you were going to get, all of those Natasha looks, those small ‘tsk’ sounds when Thor was not only upset but disappointed in you, the judgmental eyebrows Tony would be sending your way, and those puppy dog eyes from Peter. Goodness, you were sure Peter missed you. Bruce would never trust you again, no surprise there, you had lied to him. You hadn’t thought about the consequences of your actions when you first did this. You hated, at the time, that you didn’t care if you hurt anyone.
Game over. You weren’t going home not without having scored some points, but to win, you would just end up losing more. More, you now understood that you had taken all of it for granted. Yes, your friends were constant reminders of Steve and they had been acting like you were some mission they needed to complete, but at least they loved you. That was more than a lot of people had and you would let them know about all these epiphanies if they didn’t kill you as soon as you returned.
When you made it back to your apartment, it was only to get the necklace Wanda had given you a few years back for your birthday. It was this huge stone you never remembered the name of, something you rarely took off regardless of that.
The last thing you expected was to find Steve. He looked furious and maybe, just maybe, you were going to get the satisfaction of seeing that you hurt him before you left. “What the hell are you doing here?”
He was at the table again, jaw set, glaring at the wall straight ahead of him. You were trying to think if you’d ever seen him this angry, if you’d ever even heard stories of it. Probably not. He liked to act like you were so damn delicate. Though, maybe he had been onto something.
“Hey,” you snapped after receiving no response, “Why the fuck are you in my hotel room?”
Finally, he turned to you and for the first time ever, you were scared of him.
You kept your distance, you even began moving toward your bedside table where you had your gun stashed.
“I hope you’re not looking for this.” He reached down for a moment then tossed it onto the table noisily.
Shit. “Steve…”
“You fucked her.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He stood quickly, storming over to you. For a moment, you had been stunned, and it was enough for him to get several upper hands. It wasn’t as if he needed them to begin with, but with your delayed scattering back, he was able to grab you and pin you to the wall. You were completely defenseless in stupid, impractical heels and an ugly, impractical dress.
“Tell me you didn’t fuck her.”
You said nothing.
He scoffed harshly. “I fucking smelled you all over her…and now I smell her on you. You left those scratches on her back because you wanted me to know.”
“Honestly, I thought I would be gone by the time you found out or by the time you decided to confront me. In fact, if you leave now, I’ll be gone and you’ll never have to see me again.”
He narrowed his eyes.
“What? Isn’t that what you wanted?”
He didn’t say anything, instead, he grabbed the neckline of your dress and tore it open. He paid no mind to your startled shoving at his chest. His eyes moved over your skin quickly, you could tell he was getting angrier with every bruise he found.
You were going to play this off, bat away at his feelings just long enough for you to escape. “Steve, I—”
He grabbed your jaw and you immediately shut up. “Go take a shower.”
Your eyebrows pulled together.
“Now.”
“No, you fucking—”
“You can do it on your own or I can do it for you. But to be clear, I will not ask again, and I’m gonna count to ten before I really lose my patience. One, two, three—”
“Steve,” you tried softly. He was still holding you there, so tight that the idea of moving was laughable.
“Four, five—”
“Steve,” you were a tad more frantic, pushing at his forearm.
“Six, seven.” He finally pulled away from you and you bolted to the bathroom without a second thought. He told you to leave the door open and you listened because you no longer had the desire to push him.
You came out in a towel several minutes later. Most of your shower was spent just trying to calm down, the rest was using any product you had to try to get rid of her scent. You didn’t want to risk further angering him with any lingering mentions of Peggy.
He was just feet away from the door when you stepped out and once again, he showed no hesitation in ripping away what covered your body. He looked you over again, briefer this time, obviously displeased with what he saw. He’d hoped most of it was just the lipstick Peggy always wore.
“Are you wet?”
“What?”
“Your pussy. Are you wet?” He was condescendingly slow with every single word and your hand suddenly itched with the need to smack him.
“No.”
“Well, you’re a liar, so I don’t believe you,” he countered. “Check.”
“What?”
“Check,” he repeated. “Now. And if I have to keep repeating myself, you’re not going to like the way this night plays out.”
You averted your gaze as you brought your hand to your center. Your breath caught audibly as you ran your fingers through. Yes, he was an ass, but your body would never stop craving his touch.
“Show me.”
Begrudgingly, you brought your hand back to him.
“Wow, how did I know you were lying? Touch yourself. Keep touching yourself until you come.”
You snorted. “Eww, no—”
He slammed his hand against the wall behind you and you fell silent again. “The same rules apply. Do it or I will do it for you.”
He had never spoken to you like this. Sure, there were the bad missions. There were the times when he just needed to fuck you to forget all the shit he had to deal with. But there was never a moment where you wondered if he would lose control, if he would hurt you unintentionally. Right now, maybe it wasn’t so much that you thought he would. You had known him long enough, loved him long enough, that you knew exactly what kind of man he was. Maybe, right now, it was that you wanted him to hurt you.
Nothing could be worse than when he left you. Nothing he did was going to hurt more than when you went back home and you were, once more, without him. Meaning that you wanted to take everything that you possibly could from this moment. All the pain, all the bruises, all those emotional scars that would add to the ones from before that you had idiotically convinced yourself you could ever get rid of.
He knew you were considering your next move and arched an eyebrow at your continuing silence.
You shook your head. “No.”
One of his hands shot up to wrap around your neck, the other hand went to your cunt where he slid two fingers into you with embarrassing ease.
You brought your hands up to his forearm and dug your nails into his skin. The harder you scratched him, the harder he would choke you—it was something established early on in your relationship. And if he was choking you, you couldn’t moan or whine like he wanted you to.
For a moment, you both stayed still. For an entire second, it wasn’t that he had left you, that you had to track him down, that you fucked his girlfriend and he was fucking furious about it. For a second, it was just you and him, like it was all the times before.
The problem was pride. It wasn’t like before and neither one of you wanted to let the other pretend. He hurt you. You hurt him. Before no longer mattered. So, you shut your eyes and turned your face away from him.
He thrust his fingers just slightly harder than you would have liked, slightly harder than he would have liked. It would sting in the morning, but you wouldn’t hate it. Crescent-shaped cuts would be found everywhere on his skin and he would mourn that they were healing too fast. Both of you knew that this was it. The end.
You were wet, that obscene sound drowning out your choked noises. He absolutely loved this, loved you. He had thought being with Peggy again would make him feel like he was finally home. It took him so long to figure out that he was wrong, to realize that you were one of the few people that actually felt like home. You and Bucky, Nat, Sam, Tony, Wanda, Thor. Not Peggy.
And he could no longer pretend when he felt you tighten around his fingers. He was fucked up and he ruined things a lot of the time. It was just in his DNA, even the fucking serum couldn’t fix that. But prior to leaving, he’d never ruined anything with you. He hadn’t realized how much he missed fucking you because he always did that right.
“Open your eyes,” he ordered.
Instead, you pushed harder at his arm and turned further away from him. Your hips started to buck against his hand, and he knew you wanted this, but he knew you were not going to give in without some fight.
“Open your fucking eyes, Y/N.”
You were not going to. After all the hell he’d put you through? Fuck that, fuck him. You were never going to give him anything he wanted ever again.
He yanked his hand away from your pussy and grabbed your jaw to turn your face to him. He knew that wouldn’t work alone and in a move of desperation, kissed you. A move to get you to let your guard down—a weak move that would not work. As his knee came up to your cunt and you began grinding against it, he started biting your lip.
You buried one hand in his hair and started pulling harder than you should have. He released your jaw to do the same to you. This was much different than how he usually touched you. He’d always been rough, but this hurt, actually hurt.
You rode his thigh with no assistance from him. He let your face go and dropped your hair in search of another tactic. You were no longer kissing, you instead rested your head on his shoulder, eyes still squeezed shut. Even when he grabbed your ass painfully, and when he smacked you after all you did was scream. Even when he grabbed your breasts and pulled on your nipples.
You kept your eyes shut the entire time and he was growing furious. He wasn’t going to let you feel anything even resembling pleasure if you weren’t going to give into him. He pulled away and grabbed your hips.
You opened your eyes then, concerned about what he was doing to you next. He grabbed your shoulder and shoved you onto the bed before you could say a word. You were on your stomach, facing away from him, busy lamenting the loss of your finish. You heard him undressing as you attempted to regain your breath and composure.
He was on top of you before that happened, yanking your legs open before he crawled up, hands stopping on either side of your head. He wasn’t going to tease, he was going to fuck you like the brat you were—hard, mean, unforgiving. He lowered his hips until his cock was lined up with your entrance and then thrust in.
Your scream must have scared the hell out of the neighbors. You wouldn’t be surprised if the cops were being called right then. It wasn’t a pleasurable scream, you certainly liked that he was inside you, but that was just your body. Your heart ached in a way that it never had. You’d thought you were never going to feel him again, but it wasn’t some beautiful feeling of reconnection. You were at square one, you would have to crave his body all over again once this was over. You would go through those same agonizing withdrawals that had truly destroyed you those first few months.
Steve grabbed your hair again and shoved your face into the mattress. He didn’t care about taking it slow, making sure that you, his precious, sweet girlfriend, were okay. He felt just as torn up as you and he couldn’t afford emotional consideration when he was so fucked up. He only knew what he wanted, for you to look at him like you used to. He would do whatever he had to do to get it. Part of him didn’t care how low he would have to go. He wasn’t Captain America here, he didn’t have to live up to the same standards.
You blindly reached back to try to catch his arm, but your attempts never even touched him. He didn’t seem to care about what you were attempting, he just fucked you. He held you down as his hips slammed against your ass and he moaned loudly, shamelessly, selfishly. You finally caught a hold of his arm and used the heel of your palm to push, but since you were out of breath and had been for quite some time, you doubted that there was any real force behind it.
“Can’t breathe, baby?” he wondered, hips still snapping, the head of his cock reaching that delicious spot inside you.
You dug your nails into his skin even though it was an uncomfortable stretch and your muscles were screaming. You were screaming, too, despite everything, despite the lack of strategy in that, but this felt too good not to. You hadn’t been fucked like this in so long, this was what you knew you would never get from someone else. This deep, soul-level connection was a one-time deal. No one else was ever going to be able to give you this.
“If I let you up, you better fucking look at me. I’m not kidding, Y/N. I’ll fucking hold you down again until I fucking come.”
Once his hand lifted from your head, you turned up and gasped for air. It was a short-lived relief as soon as his hand pressed into your neck and angled your head back. It wasn’t that you were scared, and you should have been because you wholeheartedly believed his threat, it was that you were happy to have an excuse to give in. He was stronger than you, right? No one could blame you for giving in, hell, you were just trying to save yourself. Right?
Your eyes met his and his hips stuttered. A ragged breath fell from his lips, you felt it on your hair. That hard look in his eyes softened, he looked a lot like that man that had promised you he would come back to you.
“I love you,” he breathed.
Your eyes instantly filled with tears and you clamped your mouth shut. Both hands were buried in the bedsheets because you needed something to hold, something to tear at, something to destroy to cope with the burning anger that was consuming you.
“I’m sorry, I love you.” His body moved erratically against yours, desperate for all the things he’d longed for since he’d left you. The two of you were sick together, desperate, twisted people that proved it in bed. Peggy wasn’t like that and he was drowning trying to act like he was normal, like he was that same man that she had been with what felt like centuries ago.
He collapsed, chin pressing into the bend of your neck, and you felt his cum spilling into you. His arms wrapped around you, holding you tight as he rode out his finish. He didn’t stop, however, now he wanted to get you off. He wanted to feel those same pathetic, proud things he experienced whenever he played your body like an instrument.
You didn’t resist, what would be the point? You fucking deserved an orgasm, at the very least. You were ashamed to admit that you wanted it, needed it. You hadn’t honestly felt alive since he left you, but this reminded you what that was like.
He groaned when he felt you tightening around him, his hand wedging between you and the mattress to get to your clit. When he did, it was over and you crashed like a wave against the shore, and you saw stars, and you felt all those things you felt when you were happily in love with a man you thought loved you back.
So, in conclusion, you felt lies.
If he thought he could fuck reality out of your mind, he was sadly mistaken. You were coming down when your hand started sliding across the mattress. Your gun was not the only precaution you took—you’d known Natasha for years and she would strangle you if that was your only form of protection.
He was kissing down your spine when you located your knife, and he had just started to speak when you turned back and just stabbed. You had a general awareness of where he was, you knew you weren’t going to kill him, and you didn’t want to. You just needed to get away, before he started talking, apologizing, making more promises.
You didn’t wait to see where you stabbed, you simply clawed away from him until you could jump from the bed. He cried out and you heard him grabbing for you, but you couldn’t stop for anything. On your bedstand was the necklace you had shown up for, you grabbed it, along with your long coat and then you were on your way out the door.
Running around completely naked in the 40s, clutching a trench coat you knew you weren’t going to leave without, shoeless, dripping sweat and cum—you’d never thought your beautiful life with Steve Rogers would take you here.
A Bucky Barnes lecture was the last thing you wanted, but it was the only thing you would be receiving for probably several months. Well, when he was done with his silent treatment. He was furious when you returned, he didn’t say a word to you. Everyone else had completely fawned over you. They hugged you, pet your hair, told you how proud they were that you came home.
Bucky just stared at you and when they all parted so he could speak to you, he simply stormed out of Bruce’s lab. But yes, Bruce was a tad betrayed, your expectation on that had been correct. You apologized profusely and brought him coffee every day, several times a day until he stopped looking at you like a kicked baby animal.
Tony was disappointed, but not to Bucky’s extent. He simply could not fathom the hold Steve had on you still, told you as much. You admitted that you were wrong, and well, with Tony, that was really all he needed. He wanted to be right and he wanted you to tell him that you learned your lesson. To the untrained eye, he would look like a narcissist. But you knew him better, you knew he was just scared of losing you. Again. He merely wanted to know that you were sticking around and that was what you conveyed when you told him you had made a mistake going in the first place. He dropped it, like it never happened.
Natasha didn’t let you out of her sight for almost two complete weeks. She watched you and you felt her watching you, but she wasn’t going to pry. She was angry, but she was still handling you with gloves on. She wasn’t going to push you emotionally no matter how badly she wanted to. She also wasn’t going to ask questions, scared that prying would move you further away. You told her you saw Steve and that you got what you needed, she nodded, and that was the end of it. She still watched you, but she was slyer about it. She made sure you were in your room when she woke up and went to bed, but she took up Tony’s pretending routine as well.
Wanda didn’t need to ask anything; she knew because she read your thoughts. She knew because she had been outraged that you left without a goodbye, so she felt entitled to those thoughts. Not because she needed to know what happened but because she needed to know if you were going to try anything else again. She stopped being mad at you one day when you were making Bruce coffee. You hadn’t heard her, you were there in the kitchen, stuck in your own thoughts. She hugged you tight, didn’t say a word, but just like that, it was over.
Almost everyone had gotten over it in record time. You knew you were an asshole and you apologized, and you meant it, but even if you hadn’t, it wasn’t like they were ever going to hold it against you. Sometimes, knowing that, it made you feel worse because these people loved you and just like Steve had done to you, you hurt them. In the exact same way. You left.
Sam was in a much more difficult position. He felt a duty to you as one of Steve’s closest friends, but he also felt for Bucky. You’d really hurt Bucky and Sam could forgive you for being reckless, psychotic almost, even selfish. But the look on Bucky’s face when they discovered that you were gone was a hard thing to shake.
He stopped ignoring you after a couple of days, but the conversations were short, shallow. He didn’t ask about your time there and he didn’t ask about your feelings after. It was all small talk and polite conversation, it seemed like you barely knew each other at all. But sometimes, you would catch him watching you, like he was looking for signs of something that he couldn’t ask you. He wanted to know if you were still torn up by this Steve thing.
You were. You cried a lot, as if it happened all over again. Technically, in a way, it did. But you didn’t show them that, it was no longer their burden to bear. You had caused them pain when they tried to take yours away. You waited until you were alone or out of the tower, you cried quietly and quickly. You did not allow yourself those days where you would just hole up in your room. You were always awake early, asleep late, and you took care of yourself because you owed them all at least that.
You knew when Bucky was less angry, but you weren’t going to approach him. You were totally fine just waiting for him to let you know when he wanted to speak to you, which was one random morning after you’d finished sparring with Nat.
He was waiting outside the gym, muttered that he wanted to speak to you, and even Natasha had the good sense to get lost. It wasn’t going to be pretty, that much was clear. It was in his tone, his eyes, his tense posture.
He took you back to your room and ordered you to sit on the foot of your bed. He paced for a long time and you didn’t say a word or make a sound. When he finally looked at you, you seriously worried he might kill you. He was angry all over again, had worked himself up with his thoughts but you weren’t sure why entirely.
“Did you see him?”
You nodded.
“You talked to him.”
“About…everything? Um, no, not really.” There hadn’t been that conversation. Any attempts on Steve’s part were expertly diverted by you, with all your ill intentions and knowledge of how to get under Steve’s skin.
He nodded curtly. “So, this was for nothing then? You put me through all of this shit for nothing?”
“Bucky, I’m really so—”
He was storming out of the room before you finished your sentence.
You didn’t see him for two days, and when you did, it was clear again, you would be getting more silence. You told yourself you couldn’t be that hurt. You’d hurt him first, that meant he had the right to express his feelings even if that resulted in him not speaking to you.
Several days later, Bucky dropped his Winter Solider persona and became a worried, bitter mother hen. You were sick, it wasn’t something that you thought was a big deal. He’d come to speak to you again and with his enhanced hearing, heard you puking in the bathroom.
When you were done, he forced you back into bed and got Bruce. Bruce did the usual, it wasn’t as if anyone was worried, he was just too scared not to indulge Bucky. Speaking of, he was off in the corner of the room, claiming that you’d probably gotten some kind of time-traveling bug. He was being dramatic, and you became aware of what exactly had drawn him and Steve together all those years ago. Extra bitches.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Bruce assured. “Her temperature is fine.”
“Take her blood, test it for time-traveling bugs.”
You rolled your eyes, and because Bruce had heard of the Winter Soldier, he did as was directed. Even though you were pretty sure that Bucky wasn’t serious. Not completely. Once Bruce had the excuse of focusing on your blood, that left you and Bucky alone.
“Why did you even go?”
This was not going to go over well. “Um…I had a plan…”
“A plan,” he repeated. “To do what?”
“I was sort of…kind of, just a little bit, going to kill Peggy.”
His mouth dropped.
You rolled your eyes. “I know that was stupid—”
“You’re insane!”
You glared. “Bucky.”
“You didn’t do it, right?!”
“No,” you huffed. “I should have, would have been putting her out of her misery. He’s such a fucking tool.”
He dragged his hand down his face, holding his jaw as he leaned over in his chair and pressed his elbows to the tops of his thighs. He was silent for a very long time before saying, “Yeah…he is. Did he hurt you?”
The bruises had been painfully obvious, there was no way to hide them, and you knew they could all guess what they came from. You felt your skin getting hot as you shook your head. “No. He wouldn’t do that, Bucky.”
He scoffed. “I thought that…but he did leave you and I never thought he could do that.”
“He’s…not different,” you claimed. “Just…”
“A fucking tool.” He nodded. “I know.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
“No, I’m really sorry, Bucky. I’m not just sorry for leaving and upsetting you. I’m sorry for everything, I’m sorry that you wasted months trying to make me feel better and then I just left. I’m sorry that I took you guys for granted, I’m sorry that I didn’t know how fortunate I was to have people who love me as much as you guys do. I know I betrayed your trust so it’s not going to mean much, but I will never do anything like that again.”
His eyes flit up from the floor to your face. “I do love you. So fucking much. You’re my only connection to him. And you left and I didn’t have that, I didn’t have you and I didn’t have him, and I was just…lost.”
You felt those familiar pricks in the back of your eyes, but you told yourself not to cry, you didn’t have the right. But just as soon as his eyes filled with tears, you couldn’t hold back your own anymore. He practically flung himself off the chair to rush to you, arms wrapping tightly around your shoulders.
You weren’t sure how long you both stayed there, just clinging to each other. This felt like the end of all the tension, though. This felt like a fresh start and you and Bucky were just going to have to move on without Steve. You pondered that for a while. You would have to try to find him a girlfriend or a boyfriend so he wouldn’t try to find you someone. It was going to be a little give and take, probably a major power-struggle every now and then, but it was going to be good.
The only reason you two pulled away was because both a frantic Bruce and Natasha ran into the room. They’d made all the noise two people could possibly make as they did so, crashing into each other because the doorway wasn’t big enough for the both of them.
They were wide-eyed, out of breath, both looking like they had just seen a ghost. But a much different ghost since they both regarded one another with a look of confusion.
“What is it?” Bucky demanded. “Wait, she doesn’t really have a time-traveling bug, does she?”
“Oh!” Bruce scoffed awkwardly, “I’d say so!”
You narrowed your eyes. “What the hell does that mean?”
“That can wait!” Natasha declared.
“No, it certainly cannot!” Bruce insisted.
These were two people who were normally soft-spoken, not because they were meek or soft in any general sense—hello, Black Widow and the Hulk—but in that they didn’t like drawing so much attention to themselves.
As they both started hissing arguments back at each other, Bucky sighed.
You glanced at him and he shrugged at you in response. Things were all better one second, but the very next, the world was ending.
Both Bruce and Natasha turned back to you with resolute looks on their faces. Natasha only spoke loudly this time because she was hoping to yell over Bruce, “Steve is back!” And Bruce yelled in a completely indelicate manner because he was shocked, horrified, extremely concerned, “You’re pregnant!”
Oh, shit.
Natasha and Bruce took a second to process what the other said and then gasped, turning to one another to share a look. They faced you again and decided to repeat the news only, Bruce screamed about Steve being back and Natasha more so framed it as a shrieking question you’re pregnant?!
You glanced at Bucky.
His jaw was set, his eyes narrowed just slightly. He merely nodded once then stood, throwing his hands up in the air. “Well, I’m gonna fucking kill him.”
Yep, the world was most certainly ending.
#steve rogers x reader#why write what you requested when i can just be a moody water sign and write angst?#i don't even remember when i wrote this and i barely edited it honestly bc i'm just kinda over it#i wouldn't have even posted it bc it's been THAT long but i spent time on this so#my writing
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Parking Lot
This is a love letter to the Dean who told Cassie everything about his life after knowing her for 2 weeks and who didn’t see What Is And What Should Never Be as a horror show until he saw his bond with Sam was gone. I don’t think it would work for a later seasons Dean, who had pretty conclusively abandoned this idea for himself. I’d love any advice or critiques!!
Title: Parking Lot
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Word Count: 3801
Summary: A parking lot quickie leads to an illuminating argument between Dean and the reader.
Warnings: Swearing, smut, angst, ~*idiots in love*~, fluff
In a couple ways it seemed like a lesson; you really shouldn’t have been fooling around in a parking lot no matter how late at night it was. Especially not a bar’s parking lot, potentially more likely to be busy at this hour, shadows be damned.
But it wasn’t all your fault, not by a long shot. Dean knew exactly what he was doing, getting a Manhattan rather than his standard straight bourbon just for the cherry, rolling it around with his tongue and licking his fingers of the juice while you waited for the guys you were playing pool against to shoot.
If Sam had been there you might’ve been able to keep it together for politeness’s sake, but you didn’t give a shit about these people and you weren’t doing research for a case, just blowing off steam post-job before heading out of town in the morning.
Two could play at Dean’s game, though, you arching your back deep into the table to make a shot and practically purring “your turn” when he was up, hovering close enough to see the goosebumps spread over his neck when he smirked and obeyed. He finished the game lightning fast with a string of laser-focused shots and you silently downed the rest of his drink as the guys ponied up, tossing thick folds of cash onto the table and shaking Dean’s hand. You didn’t even feel guilty for hustling them, partly for their ignoring you but mostly for the distraction of Dean’s hands reracking the balls and grabbing your coat, sliding a palm to your lower back with his pinky just barely under your waistband. It was all you could do to wait until you get to the back of the parking lot to shove him up against the Impala and bite his bottom lip almost too hard before slipping your tongue into his mouth.
You felt the smile and heard the groan at the same time, both pouring into your mouth as you ripped at Dean’s jacket, trying to yank his flannel off his shoulders with it. You abandoned the project to paw at Dean’s tee once you’d gotten the outer layers bunched down around his elbows, kissing him hungry and dark like he was yours to take.
One of Dean’s bitten off groans trailed off into a barely-there whimper. For all his posturing he loved this, when he could give up being predator and let go for a few minutes to be your prey. He didn’t start fumbling for the door handle until you flicked open his belt, his other hand clutching at a handful of hair at the back of your neck and kissing down your jugular fast and hard. Imagining the way Sam was going to roll his eyes at the hickeys only added adrenaline while Dean finally got the backseat door open, sliding you in and unfurling on top of you. Still working on his jeans, you dragged him tight between your legs.
“You are—so—mean,” you grinned between kisses. “Teasing me like—that.”
Dean’s eyebrows kicked up on his forehead, playing dumb like you knew he would. “Me? Never.” His act dropped the moment you finally got his fly open, wrapping your hand around his cock through his boxers and punching all the air out of his lungs. His head rolled back on his neck almost violently, impossibly long eyelashes grazing his cheekbones and lips parted around a breathy “fuck.”
His switch flipped, Dean scrambled to strip you as fast as possible. You tried to help him in large part to avoid tearing your clothes, ending up crushed into the leather of the bench seat somehow with one leg fully out of your jeans and underwear, the other knee tangled up in the fabric. He’d shoved up your shirt and bra and it would’ve been uncomfortable and tight if any of your senses had been turned to it instead of Dean wetting his middle finger to slip-slide along your clit, murmuring something about “I love it when you do that,” into the side of your neck as he swirled circles into you. After a few moments you were writhing in the seat and Dean pulled that finger back up, sucking you off of it before pushing it up inside you, then another.
“Fuck me, Jesus Christ Dean,” you moaned against his tongue, yanking him forward until he guided himself into you. The stunted warm-up helped but that first push was always a shock, and whatever sound you made was loud enough that Dean covered your mouth with his hand, grinning conspiratorially down over fingers still steeped in you as he thumped you into the car door.
“Quiet—someone’s going to hear you.”
You bit his hand and Dean yelped with a chuckle, pulling it back before you roped around his neck and kissed him lasciviously. “Don’t tell me what to fucking do,” you smirked.
He stabilized himself against the Impala’s door to pound into you harder, you wrapping your legs around his waist and whisper-moaning filthy nothings into his ear, biting his neck until suddenly you felt that finely honed awareness pique in the back of your mind, flaring hot enough to burn and you froze, thighs clamped tight around Dean.
“Baby, I—”
“Don’t fucking move—did you hear that?” you hissed.
Dean tried to pull back and tensed hard, shuddering into you as you tried to lift your head to see as surreptitiously as possible before the delayed processing hit you. When you looked up at Dean he didn’t meet your eyes, wincing over one shoulder with his arms still planted.
“Tell me you didn’t,” you whispered.
He was silent for a half-second, still didn’t meet your eyes. “I tried t—you fucking death-gripped me with your legs, what was I supp—”
“Oh my god, get off of me,” you yelped, trying your best to sit up and snatch at anything to clean yourself up before realizing it was useless. “FUCK! Fuck, Dean, fuck, what’re we going to—I can’t be—”
He leaned back into the seat to get back into his jeans and fasten his belt. “One thing at a time, okay? They’ve got like pills and stuff right? We don’t even know if it’ll take.”
You rolled your eyes angrily at him as you jammed your leg back into your jeans. “Our fucking luck it’s already triplets.” You ran a hand through your hair and took a deep, hard breath. “Okay, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”
“No, I get it.” He slumped into the seat next to you. A long beat passed, you and Dean both sitting stupid, half-dressed in jeans and untied boots, hair all over the place. He cleared his throat. “Wanna head out?” His voice was small and rough; you knew he was sorry and maybe a little embarrassed. If you were more highly evolved you might’ve been able to console him more in that moment, but your heart was bounding through your chest about what was going to happen next—if. You managed to squeeze his hand in solidarity if nothing else before grabbing your stuff and moving to the front seat.
Minutes of silent road passed before Dean reached over and covered your knee with his hand. You capped it with one of yours and saw his lips twitch up at the corner in response.
He glanced over at you tentatively. “Maybe it uh, wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, you know?”
Your incredulity spun you around in your seat so you were fully squared to him. “What?”
It was dark in the car but you thought maybe Dean’s cheeks started to look pink. “I don’t know, teaching a little squirt how to play catch or whatever, might be cute.”
“You cannot be serious.”
His eyes flicked back over to you and his lips pursed out, trying to look non-plussed. “Whatever. Just trying to make you feel better.”
“No, you’re not. Because that exact possibility is scaring the shit out of me right now and two minutes ago you were trying to convince me we were going to pill this away. So it’s—is that something you want? Having a kid someday?”
Dean took his hand back under the guise of using two hands to turn the steering wheel. “No.”
You waited, willed your own heartbeat to slow down. As you knew he would, Dean kept talking, keeping his eyes on the road more to avoid the vulnerability of looking in your eyes rather than out of necessity on the long, straight stretch of road. “I don’t know. It really seems that bad to you? Having something that’s really, like, ours? Just you and me?”
“We’re not talking about a something, Dean, we’re talking about a fucking kid.”
“Jesus, fine, forget it. Sorry I asked.”
His knuckles went white on the steering wheel and underlined that Dean Was Done Talking. What an absolute waste of a fun little night out, leaving Sam to have a couple hours alone. Now instead of getting back looser to a well-rested Sam, you were going to barrel into this crappy motel terrified with a pissed off Dean, dropping it all at the younger Winchester’s feet to deal with (again).
It took you until the motel parking lot to muster up the courage to touch Dean’s wrist. “Can we talk for a second?” Dean pretended to be annoyed but you could tell it was an act shielding a spot of tenderness. He flopped his hands in his lap and looked over at you expectantly. “Maybe it’s dumb to even talk about this; like you said, it might be nothing. But I just—I mean if—do you really want that? What would that even look like? Not even with me or whatever obviously but leaving hunting, leaving Sam—”
“Leaving Sam? Who said anything about leaving Sam?”
“You volunteering him as nanny?”
Dean sort of half-rolled his eyes and shifted to face you. “You know as well as I do that Sam doesn’t want to be doing this, not forever. I’m not saying we should be fucking trying, obviously, I’m just—I’m going to stick around no matter what happens. I wouldn’t ditch you with my mistake.”
You scoffed. “How noble.”
“Not like that. But I’m not a complete moron, I know we’ve played with fire a couple times and I know what I’m doing.”
“I guess I just figured that was heat of the moment stuff.”
A flash of something passed over his face, gone almost too fast for you to decipher. Offense? Sadness? “Yeah, part of it. But you—you’ve never even thought about it?”
“Thought about how I’d get a couple hundred dollars and find a clinic, yeah. I—we can’t be hunters with a baby. And I won’t be stashed in some safe house somewhere, see you and Sam for a day or two every couple months, be the loner single mom who can’t tell anyone anything about her life.”
“Single mom? I’m not a fucking deadbeat. I just said I wouldn’t make you deal alone.”
You shot him an exasperated look and took a deliberate breath to keep from rising to the bait. “So what, now you want to get married? Dean, I’m not even really your damn girlfriend.”
He reached for the handle fast enough that you had to scramble across the seat after him, Dean pausing in the open door. “Look, if it’s not what you want, that’s fucking fine. But don’t patronize me. Not my fucking girlfriend? Fuck you.”
You flew across the Impala and out of the passenger door, following Dean as he stormed across the asphalt. “Fuck me? How are you mad at me?”
He spun on his heel in the parking lot. “I tell you I’m willing to leave all of this—all of everything I really know, fucked up as that is—for you, would make you my whole future and you, you—your response is that you’re not even my girlfriend? Yeah, fuck you.”
“Dean, that’s not what I—” but he had already started storming back to the room. “DEAN!” you yelled, standing stock still in the middle of the lot. He paused with his back to you for what felt like a long second before turning back around. “I don’t want to bring this back to Sam. I’m sorry, okay? I’m just—I’m scared shitless about something that might not even happen and then you spring the idea of some shotgun wedding on me—”
He rolled his eyes without even a hair of humor, the muscles in his jaw tensing hard enough to catch the cold overhead light. “See, how can you—” he started, before taking a deep, deliberate breath and starting over in a tone that was forced calm. “That’s everything I ha—that’s all I can give you, is loving you and fucking being there for you. So if it’s that fucking cheap or skanky to you then I’m sorry for wasting your fucking time.” When you didn’t respond his spine straightened a few degrees. “What? Say something. Tell me how stupid I am for suggesting that being tied together might not ruin your fucking life.”
You felt that your mouth had fallen open but didn’t care. “You love me?”
Dean’s face contorted like he was looking at a mirage of something bizarre, curious and disbelieving and frustrated. “I lo—of course I love you, what the fuck?”
“Y—you’ve never said that to me.”
“What? Yes I have.” His voice softened a shade, the certainty his anger had afforded him beginning to slip away like sand at high tide, but his eyebrows stayed indignant.
You’d never been more certain of anything in your life, that Dean had never said that, because it was something you wanted constantly. Craved, even. Were kept awake at night by; the desire to have your feelings for Dean reciprocated too intense even to dream about. So you justified and bargained with yourself: if fooling around and this kind of casual commitment—girl who would cover him and Sam in a firefight and didn’t hound him for a label—was what he wanted, it was what you would give. Anything for more time with him or the chance to kiss those lips, to see the way he looked first thing in the morning, to get annoyed at his bullshit idiosyncrasies.
“No, you haven’t.” So many more words tried to burst forward from you that you had to bite your lip to be sure your mouth stayed closed.
Dean held your eyes, willing you to say something until he lost his patience. “Who says that stupid shit all the time anyway? You know I love you; I’d do fucking anything for you.” His voice had started to rise again but the heat behind it was some sort of hungry desperation, not hurt rage. “I’m—you don’t think I love you?”
You started to feel completely exposed by the industrial light, seared alive by green eyes. Shifting your weight from foot to foot didn’t help, and you fought angrily against the lump forming in your throat.
He looked over his shoulder and the barked “FUCK!” startled you despite yourself. “Kid, I—FUCK, that’s what this is? I loved you since that first fucking hunt in Cleveland! You really think I’m just…? This isn’t some Beaver Cleaver ‘I put you in a family way’ bullshit, I—I don’t know, I just, with you it feels like for the first time maybe it’s not insane to think that I could—that we could—whatever, man, I’m not fucking talking about this.” A hand shot up to rub the back of his neck, a nervous tic you recognized immediately.
You took two big steps toward him. “Dean, I just—I didn’t know. That’s—I mean I’m not going to say I’ve been thinking about it; but it—it’s more because I didn’t even think it was on the table, you know? I thought we were, I don’t know, really close friends that sleep together.”
Dean’s eyebrows flew up his forehead and he blew an almost-laugh out of his nose. “I don’t even know what to say to that. Never heard of any friends that live together and fuck raw.” His tongue slid along his molars and he sucked his teeth looking down at the ground, flicker of a despondent, self-deprecating smile twitching his lips. “Uh, noted, I guess. Sorry I misunderstoo—” and his eyes on the blacktop prevented him from seeing you cross the few strides between you, catching him off guard when you kissed him hard enough to bruise, hard enough to feel everything you wanted to say, wanted to scream (at him, from the rooftops, ohmygodhelovesme) take a backseat for a moment. He grunted at the impact, stunned for a half-beat before surging forward into you, wrapping into your hair and pawing at your hips with desperate effort to get closer. Feeling the grin against your mouth, you wished you weren’t standing in the absolute middle of the parking lot, frenzy to have something to push each other against building to a fever pitch inside you when Dean tugged your hair back to look at your face.
He looked downright pornographic; swollen, flushed pout and impossible lashes framing bedroom eyes Marilyn or Sophia would’ve envied. A washing of cockiness only amplified the effect, those pillowy lips pulling into a lazy smirk. “So is this a really-close-friends kiss or what? Trying to figure out how much tongue I’m supposed to slip you.”
You giggled good-naturedly, letting the weight of your head press into his palm. “You are such an asshole.”
“Yeah, you fuckin’ love it.” He sucked on that sweet pulse spot under your ear deeply, some accessory movement with his tongue enough to make you see stars and miss that it was you letting out that ungraceful whine-moan. When Dean spoke the air passing over your spit-slick neck exploded in goosebumps. “And I love you.”
Dean kissed you in that searching, delicious, eat-you-alive way he sometimes did after a particularly victorious hunt when he either had all the time in the world or didn’t give a fuck about making it; soothing-probing with a little edge of danger that hypnotized you. It pulled at the sweater of your being and tugged, steady and cloying until you were something loose and ephemerous in Dean’s hands, something equally likely to float away or explode right there in that parking lot, clearing a hundred miles in every direction and leaving behind only the imprint of your craving for him. It’s a miracle your brain was able to function at all. In the best circumstances this flayed you open and coming on the heels of having the most beautiful gift you could imagine dropped at your feet—Dean loves you, he loves you and always has—it felt like it could stop your heart and you wouldn’t care.
“I need about twenty minutes in a cold shower or I promise I’ll knock you up right the fuck here,” Dean growled, low with sin directly into your ear.
You laughed breathily. “I thought you said that might be a good thing.”
His chuckle was rough as he pressed his lips to the crown of your head. He rested there for a moment before murmuring into your hair. “You really thought we were just messing around?”
“Dean, come on, I—don’t make me say it.”
“Say what?”
You swallowed shakily, tried to get a handle on your thoughts through the endorphins. “You—I—I’ve had it bad for you, thought if I really like, acknowledged it that it might fuck up what I did get to have of you or that some commitment would freak you out or whatever so I just—I don’t know, tried to be cool about it. Obviously we’ve always been kind of ‘don’t ask don’t tell’ when we were apart—”
Dean cut off your rambling. “Uh, has there been something you’ve been ‘don’t tell’-ing? I wasn’t ‘don’t ask don’t tell’-ing.”
“You haven’t?” you asked, surprised enough to be knocked off your nebulous trail of thought.
“No, I mean—no. You would’ve been fine with that?” The disbelief was so clear on his face it was practically casting a glow around him.
“Not fine with it—of course not—the thought of it kept me up nights, but I didn’t you to think I was some jealous freak.”
A smile spread over his face slowly, butter on hot toast. “So you would’ve been jealous?”
“I was jealous, I thought that’s what was happening.”
Dean’s head lolled back on his neck a few degrees, smirk cementing itself in place. “That’s kinda hot.”
It took the tension out of the moment and you chuckled under your breath, glancing down at your feet. “Yeah, you would say that right now, psycho.” It was breathy and shaky but Dean let you have it, throwing his elbow around your neck affectionately and tucking you into his side. With a kiss to the crown of your head, he started you both walking to the room lazily. At the door, you stilled him as he reached for the knob.
“Would you really want to keep it? Like, no bullshit, if that’s the situation, that I’m actually—you know, you wouldn’t want me to…?”
He licked his lips and bit the bottom one. They parted for a moment before he began to speak as his gaze flicked between your eyes. “Babe,” he finally breathed, and there was a note of croak there. “I’m in this for the long haul. If that’s where we’re going then we’ll deal with it. If you don’t—if you’re not there, I get it, but for me, I—yeah. If it’s going to be anyone for me, it’s you.”
“Even now?”
“I could think of worse things. Worse things have happened to me this week, probably.”
There were so many follow up questions running through your mind, so many rock-solid certainties that Dean wouldn’t really be able to quit hunting, that even figuring out how to go to an OB-gyn on fake IDs was likely to be more complicated than either of you realized, but his lack of hesitation was so sweet, so earnest, and you were still riding that he loves me high. And you might’ve gotten lucky; it might be nothing, no parking lot baby to contend with, just a tense reminder to be more careful next time. It was easier than you might’ve thought to give yourself permission to relish it for the night, consequences be damned.
-
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(1) Daze of Pollen
(Work in Progress - 1 of 8; Slow updates)
Daze of Pollen Materlist
Pairing: (cis)fem!Reader x Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x Sam Wilson
Words: 1800+
Warnings: None except language?
Summary: Bucky, Steve, Sam and you are in the safe house post mission when a retrieved Hydra device activates, releasing a kind of pollen you don’t know of, but the effects of which are soon discovered.
A/N: To all my horny bitches out there, I’m sorry the first chapter isn’t smutty. I didn’t plan on keeping the entire first chapter as the intro but it just...happened. Also, This is my submission for @buckyssoul ‘s Rae Hit 1k Marvel Writing Challenge. I’m sorry for the delay. Hope you like it!
It is a strange concept, really. We don't always get what we want. But if we do, it's when we least expect it, in the most strangest of ways as well.
Call it your good luck, fate, destiny, a simple mere coincidence, or whatever. You were grateful for that night in the safe house regardless. For the first and the last time, you could say that you were thankful for a little Hydra contraption.
It all started during a peaceful dinner. You and your group of friends were relaxing after a successful mission, treating yourselves with any and all comfort food available in the safe house. The mission was anticipated to be much harder than usual; the only reason why Bucky and Sam had asked you and Steve to accompany them. Quite unexpectedly, the mission went smoothly and it seemed there was no need for the extra help they had requested. But considering the mission consisted of scoping out an abandoned Hydra base, being overly cautious was preferred than being overconfident. One never knew the levels of villainy Hydra truly possessed.
Oh, you were about to discover the truth in that statement just fine.
Bucky sat across from you on the dining table, Sam to your right. The duo played catch with a balled sheet of paper, their half eaten meals abandoned on the table. You and Steve conversed with them while enjoying your respective sandwiches.
It was true that Steve had given up his Captain America mantle to Sam, a man just as deserving of the title, but hadn't completely retired. He didn't get out on the field anymore, but used his excellent strategic skills in planning the missions sometimes, especially if it included Hydra.
All of you would have been enroute to the Compound had Rhodey and Scott not hogged the quinjet. None of you minded though. With the four of you together, it was very much like a quiet night in with close friends. Unbeknown to you, it wasn't going to be particularly quiet much longer.
"Does it smell funny to anybody else here?" Bucky asked, pausing midway while rocking his chair. Squinting his eyes, he glanced around himself to locate the source of the smell, a deep frown etched onto his features.
Steve took a tentative whiff, you and Sam doing the same. "No pal, I don't smell anything."
"It's…" Bucky closed his eyes, taking in deep inhales. "It's faint but it's there. I'm sure of it."
You and Sam glanced at each other, a raised eyebrow followed by a shrug. Suddenly Bucky sat up with a start, his gaze fixating on a corner of the room. Following his line of sight, you found the hard black stacked containers with the Shield logo which held the Hydra files and devices you had retrieved from the base earlier in the mission.
"It's coming from there, I think." Bucky stood up and reached the stacked containers in only a few long strides. Before any of you could stop him, he lifted the cover to inspect its contents.
Immediately a puff of bright yellow powder-like substance was released from the inside, as if a smoke bomb had been triggered. Bucky coughed as the coloured dust hit his senses. It didn't take long for the particles to dissipate in the air. Soon the clean air around you was shrouded with the yellow dust, leaving all of you a coughing mess.
"What is it?" You wondered, one hand waving in front of your face to get rid of the dust while the other protectively covered your nose. It was no use though. It was everywhere, the particles so fine they slithered through the gaps between your fingers. You could do nothing but inhale it as you coughed helplessly. The particles stuck to the insides of your mouth. You couldn't feel them on your tongue or the roof of your mouth, but the dryness that followed was a sure shot indication. The tangy scent of it overwhelmed your senses, making you wonder how could you have missed it.
"Look inside the container, Bucky. See what released it." Sam instructed with broken words in between the coughs.
"Fucking Hydra," Steve muttered under his breath.
Following Sam's orders, Bucky peeked inside and pulled out a wooden cube. It was small enough to be grasped in his palm. One of its faces had the ugly red symbol of Hydra painted on it. The cube was heavily cracked along the sides. Had Bucky not held onto it firmly, it would have fallen apart right then.
Sam, you and Steve drifted closer to Bucky as the yellow dust gradually dissipated into nothing - or rather as the most of it was already inhaled by you all. The cube appeared to hold some carvings in a language you supposed was Russian.
"I...don't...understand…" Bucky's fingers drifted across the letters as he tried to make sense of it. "Fuck!" With widened eyes, Bucky retraced the words, confirming what he had read. Throwing the cube across the room, he started pacing the room, his head hidden behind his palms.
"Come on, man, you're scaring me." Steve said, approaching his friend.
"You should be!" Bucky yelled, all his frustrations coming out on the wrong person. He loudly groaned, rubbing his forehead, "I'm sorry. It's just that…"
"What is it, Bucky?" You asked.
Bucky looked at you, his gaze sweeping over your form. He bit his lip, an almost remorseful look coming over in his eyes. In a much softer voice, he said, "I don't know how to explain it. I don't know where to start."
"Do you know what the yellow dust we all inhaled was?" Sam asked.
Bucky replied after a long pause. "It was a sort of pollen which Hydra had engineered."
"Hydra modified...pollen?" You asked. The idea sounded as bizarre to you as snow in the Sahara. "What?"
"No- Well, um, yes," Bucky took a deep breath before he started explaining. "Hydra could never replicate the super soldier serum they used on me. But they needed more super soldiers. It hardly ever happened that anybody else would succeed in recreating those serums so that Hydra could steal. They decided that if they couldn't transform using the serums, they would...breed super soldiers. That's when Project Growth started. These pollen were engineered to assist in it."
"How did the pollen assist Project Growth?" You asked, confusion dripping from your voice.
Bucky glanced at you but quickly diverted his gaze, unable to keep the eye contact. "Project Growth was about using super soldiers like me and those four others to... impregnate willing women. Conception with super soldiers is harder than usual for some reason. So they came up with this pollen to aid the process. It's an aphrodisiac. They called it sex pollen, because well, it increases one's sexl drive... by a lot. So much so that it might be fatal if the person exposed to it doesn't, you know, climax."
"What? Are we gonna want to fuck like rabbits then? Become Hydra's breeding bitches?" Sam asked, crossing his arms in front of him.
"The experiments were never successful. They did it a couple of times and it never resulted in a pregnancy. This box," Bucky gestured to the broken cube lying on the floor, "I don't know how or when but it got activated somehow." He shrugged helplessly. "I have no idea if the pollen inside it was a sample of those failed experiments or if that of a new one. Either way, we don't have long before the effects would start showing."
There was a lull in the room, the implications of what Bucky said sitting heavy on everyone's minds.
"We can keep ourselves locked in our separate rooms until it wears off to...get ourselves off." Steve's cheeks were tinged a deep shade of red as he proposed the idea.
"It's not that easy. Trust me, I've been through it." Bucky looked at Steve. "It's something about needing another person's touch; a sense of intimacy. No matter what you do on your own, it won't ever be enough. It would send you in a daze of lust, where the only thing you could focus on would be to anyhow satiate yourselves. You would desperately want another person to touch you, no matter who or what gender. You'd need them to touch you." He glanced at each one of you. "I'm sorry, but it's going to be nasty."
"So what you're saying is, it's basically fuck or die?" Sam said.
"When you put it that way…" Bucky tried to think of a better phrase but finding none, he replied, "-Well, yes."
"I don't know what to say," You crossed your hands in front of your chest. To say that you were shocked was a massive understatement. You couldn't even begin to believe that any of it was true.
Unconsciously, your gaze drifted over each of the men in the room. They all stood with a hard look on their handsome faces, lost deep in thought. You weren't sure if it was you or the pollen due to which you felt yourself get wet, your panties gradually dampening and sticking to your form.
Truth be told, you had always wondered what being with these men would feel like, what fucking them would be like. Would Sam choke you in a sensual manner with those bulging arms of his? Would Bucky keep you pinned to the bed with his thick thighs? What would gripping America's Ass feel like when Steve would be pumping his length into you?
You bit your lip, your mind conjuring up a train of lewd images. You wondered if it all would come true that night. Though you had considered them insanely attractive since the day you had met them, you never dared to act upon any of your desires with either of them. They were your close friends, and you'd be damned if you'd destroy it for a night of pleasure.
Now though, you had no other option but to fuck them if you valued your life. On any other day you would have laughed boisterously had anyone suggested such a thing, but it was your reality right then.
You realized it didn't have to be a necessarily bad thing though
Huffing dramatically, you stood straighter, hands falling by your sides. With a newfound confidence, you asked, "Well then, what are we waiting for?"
"What?" Steve asked, dumbfounded.
"At one point or the other, we would eventually go crawling to someone. I don't think we'd be in control of ourselves if it would make us that desperate. Avoiding the inevitable makes no sense. It's better to start it while we are still able to make conscious decisions and consent to being with each other. At least I'd prefer that."
The men looked at each other, a silent conversation happening amongst them. Bucky asked, "Are you sure, Y/N?"
You smiled. "I am, Bucky. If it's gonna be this way, then I'm glad it's the three of you. Are you guys sure though?"
Bucky glanced at Sam and Steve before smirking, "You bet we are, babydoll."
You walked closer to Bucky, standing on the tip of your toes as your arms curved around his neck, excitement thrumming through your veins. "Let's get this show started then."
Chapter 2
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#bucky barnes x reader#steve rogers x reader#sam wilson x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#bucky#steve rogers#sam wilson#bucky barnes x you#steve rogers x you#sam wilson x you#bucky barnes x y/n#steve rogers x y/n#sam wilson x y/n#sex pollen
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