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#I had loads of options for who to put next to Steve but went for the funniest visual
jamscandraw · 4 months
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jumping on board the most recent Twitter trend
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the-iceni-bitch · 3 years
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Territory Getting Hotter
Pairing: Carol Danvers x enhanced!Fem Reader
Words: ~2.9k
Summary: You’ve made another mess for the Avengers and they find out about your relationship with Captain Danvers
Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (fe receiving oral sex, use of toys, squirting, overstimulation, light dom aspects), mentions of canon level violence, SMUT!!!! 18+ ONLY!!!!
A/N: I love these two!!! Dom!Carol is it you guys, wow. Also, reader is such a massive pain in the ass and I love her for it, I can’t wait to piss off every single Avenger with her antics.
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You beamed at Carol when she walked into the kitchen, still bleary eyed from sleep as she stretched and ran a hand through her hair.
“Hey babe!” You grinned at her. “Guess who made pancakes?”
“You’re the best sweetie.” She murmured, wrapping around your back and nuzzling into your hair. “We’ll make a housewife out of you yet.”
You laughed as she moved to pour herself some coffee when there was a sudden pounding on the front door.
“Danvers!!” A low voice shouted through the door. “Open up, its Rogers!!”
“Shit!” She hissed, looking around frantically as she tried to find someplace to stash you.
“Would you relax?” You said as you rolled your eyes at her. “He has to find out sometime.”
“Yeah, but not today! He already sounds pissed. One second!!” She shouted back, throwing on some sweats. “Just find somewhere to hide, I don’t feel like dealing with this today.”
She moved to open the door as you shook your head at her, weighing your hiding place options.
“Hey Steve, what’s up?” She said, nonchalantly as she let him inside.
“What’s up? Have you watched the news yet this morning?” He seethed as he stormed into the kitchen.
“Oh no. What did she do?” Carol said, taking a deep breath and cursing you in her head for whatever shit storm you’d started now.
“I can’t even talk about it, I’m so mad.” He growled, moving to pour himself a cup of coffee without even asking. “Even Stark was pissed, and he’s usually pretty lenient.”
“Uh-huh.” Carol said as she chewed on her lip and nibbled on a piece of bacon.
“She managed to drag Thor into it, too. We may have to move her to a full time handler, one that she can’t corrupt.” He said, starting to calm down a little bit. “We’re having a meeting about it in 30 minutes, just wanted you to be prepared. How would you feel about taking her on?”
Carol heard a snort from somewhere in the apartment and did her best not to whip around to find you. Unfortunately Steve heard it to with his damn super soldier hearing.
“What was that?” He hissed, his eyes darting all over the quarters.
“Uh, my smoke alarm’s been acting up.” Carol muttered, trying to usher him out the door. “I’ll think about it, see you soon!”
She slammed the door closed and started searching for you.
“What the fuck did you do, baby?” She asked, scanning the apartment for you.
“Y’know, I think I’m gonna leave that for a surprise.” She heard from above her head and shot her gaze upwards.
You had somehow managed to wedge yourself into a tiny corner in the ceiling of the hallway leading to her bedroom. She was giving you a disapproving look as you dropped to the floor with a grunt and grinned at her.
“You think you can handle me babe?” You said as you moved to the bedroom to get dressed.
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The two of you were sitting across from each other in the conference room half an hour later, trying to act like you didn’t fuck each other’s brains out every chance you got.
Or, at least Carol was. You were sliding your foot up the inside of her leg as she glared murderously at you and you just grinned like an idiot. She shook her head at you and turned to look at the giant screen where Tony was pulling up the surveillance footage as the rest of the team gave you exasperated glances.
“Oh, here we go, we’re getting to the good part.” Tony said, giving you a meaningful look as he slowed the footage down. “Now who’s this guy you just punched in the face and then threw across the club like a rag doll?”
“I think that’s the Duke of Edinburgh.” You said with a shrug, leaning back in your chair.
“No, that’s the Duke of Sussex, y’know, the queen’s nephew.” Nat said as she took a long drink of her coffee, looking exhausted.
“Oh shit, really?” You said, still grinning like an idiot. “Whoops.”
“And wait, here’s where Point Break blows all the lights in the club, which he says was your idea, so the two of you can make a run for it.” Stark said when the video suddenly went black.
“We weren’t making a run for it, we were pursuing our suspect.” You said, staring daggers at Thor as he tried to sink into his chair.
“Uh-huh, and did you catch your suspect?” Steve said through gritted teeth.
“Yeah, he’s in holding right now.” You said with a shrug.
“What?! Why wasn’t that in your report?” Rogers said as he started to dig through the pile of paperwork in front of him.
“I haven’t completed the report yet, Captain Rogers.” You said lightly. “I made sure to update Captain Danvers though.”
“Let’s not get off track, this is about you assaulting a member of the royal family.” Tony said as he tried to redirect the conversation.
“He assaulted me first! He grabbed my ass and made some very ungentlemanly comments about what he would do if he got me in his car.” You said, pouting as you rested your head on your hands.
“He did grab her ass, Stark. I saw it.” Thor piped up before Rogers shot him a look and he went back to inspecting his coffee.
“So you threw him? That seems like a bit of an overreaction.” Tony said with an uncomfortable shrug.
“It’s a reflex, Stark.” You said, your eyes rolling back in your head as the other women frowned at him. “Sorry, I don’t think putting up with sexual harassment is in my job description.”
“Ok, ok fine. Nat, is there anyway you can spin this?” Stark said, turning to Romanoff as she let out a deep sigh.
“Yeah, the man is a pretty notorious dog, shouldn’t be too hard.” She muttered.
“Great! Excellent meeting team, see y’all at the next one!” You said, starting to stand up before Steve turned his attention to you.
“No, we still need to discuss your recklessness, Y/L/N.” He seethed, shooting you a scowl that you returned with a mocking air that had Carol trying to hold back a snort. “I’ve thought about it a lot and I think the best course is to have you under more direct supervision. I considered splitting up you and Odinson but I feel like that would just spread the chaos around after how much you’ve corrupted him.”
You shot a grin and a wink at Thor that he returned as the two of you finally relaxed, but Steve was still talking.
“So, Danvers is going to be accompanying you on your missions now. I feel like her levelheaded attitude is just what’s needed to keep you two in line.” He said with a satisfied smirk.
“Uh, you sure Danvers is the best choice there, Cap?” Tony said whole Nat snickered into her coffee.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t she be?” Steve said as he looked around at everyone’s amused expressions with confusion.
“They’re fucking each other Steve.” Nat said nonchalantly, sending Steve into a spluttering fit as you started cackling and Carol just rolled her eyes and groaned.
“What?!” Rogers roared, his eyes moving frantically between you and Carol as you grinned at him like an idiot. “How long has this been happening?”
“Six months.” Carol said resignedly, taking a gulp of coffee as she shrugged uncomfortably. “Didn’t really feel like dealing with the paperwork.”
“Si... six months?” Steve groaned, burying his face in his hands. “And you didn’t think that might be a conflict of interest?”
“Don’t worry Cap, Danvers is quite the disciplinarian.” You said with a wicked grin as you waggled your eyebrows suggestively.
Carol growled at you and gave you a meaningful look, and you just rolled your eyes at her before leaning back on your chair and propping your boots on the conference table.
“Well... shit.” Steve sighed, running his palm over his face in exasperation. “I guess Bucky can probably oversee some of your ops, and I’ll take over the rest of them. What?”
You and Thor both groaned at that, rolling your eyes at each other.
“Just, Barnes? Could you pick a bigger stick in the mud?” You said with a shrug. “I mean, we get it dude. You were tortured by evil scientists for years who turned you into a mindless killing machine, who wasn’t? And, I love you Steve, but do you even drink?”
“Ok, we’re gonna head out now.” Carol said as she frowned at you, stepping between you and Steve before a real fight broke out. “Guess we’ll report to HR as soon as we can.”
“Uh-huh.” Rogers mumbled, pouting a little as she ushered you out of the room.
Nat followed after the two of you lazily, shaking her head at Steve and Tony as Stark and Thor tried to assure the Captain that he was loads of fun to be around and a blast at all their parties.
“Congrats again you two.” She said with a grin as she split down a different hallway to her own quarters.
“Thanks Nat! You ever gonna tell him about you and Wilson?” You yelled after her, laughing when she flipped you off over her shoulder. “Told ya they knew, babe.”
“Yeah.” She mumbled before grinning at you. “So, you beat up a royal?”
“Shit. In my defense, I didn’t know he was a royal until after I threw him.” You said, following her down the hall back to her apartment. “I thought he was just a smarmy asshole.”
“That’s the problem, sweetheart.” She purred over her shoulder. “You never consider the consequences of your actions.”
“That’s all I think about, babe.” You said with a wicked grin as you waited for her to open the door.
“And now you’re dragging poor Thor into your messes.” She tutted, shaking her head at you as she closed the door and stripped off her jacket. “If I didn’t know better I’d think you had a little crush on that himbo.”
“If you didn’t know better?” You beamed at her, starting to unbutton your jeans and step out of your boots. “Honey, he’s a literal god. I have a massive crush on him.”
“Oh, are you trying to make me jealous?” She ripped off her tank top and threw it aside. “Cuz I’m already pissed at you.”
“Yeah? What’re you gonna do about it?”
She stepped forward and gripped your jaw tightly, smashing her mouth to yours as she started steering you towards the bedroom. You yelped when she tossed you on the bed, grinning as she climbed on top of you.
“You’re such a bad girl.” She growled at you, ripping your bra off in one quick motion.
You screamed when she slapped your tit harshly, the stinging sensation warming your chest while she bent to open the top drawer of the nightstand.
“I am. I’m fucking horrible.” You gasped as she rifled around. “What are you doing?”
She grinned at you as she straightened back up, holding a set of extra shiny looking restraints.
“These are vibranium.” She cooed as she grabbed your wrists and dragged them above your head, hooking them through the headboard as you panted underneath her. “I stole them from R and D, and there’s no way even you can break out of them.”
“Yeah, we’ll see.” You said around a smirk, giving your hands a test yank and nodding appreciatively as Carol shackled each of your feet to the opposing bedposts.
She bit her lip as she stared at you, your legs spread wide over the bed and making your back arch. You moaned as she tore off your panties and slapped your pussy, your muscles twitching as arousal seeped out of you.
“Mmm, you look so good like this.” She mumbled, sliding down until she was laying between your thighs. “Can’t decide whether I should edge you all night or make you come so many times you forget your own name.”
She ran her tongue over your slit in a heavy stripe and you let out a shriek as you came as soon as she reached your clit. She pressed your hips into the mattress as she lashed her tongue against your bundle of nerves, making your legs quiver with the strain of your orgasm.
“Looks like you made my decision for me.” She grinned at you before diving back in.
Her tongue swirled through your folds expertly, sucking your lips into your mouth and humming against you as your pussy started clenching around nothing. She wrapped her lips around your clit and you came again with a sob as your limbs pulled against the restraints, your body trying to arch off the bed.
She shoved her tongue inside you and you screamed as another orgasm crashed over you when her teeth brushed against your tiny bundle of nerves. Carol kept curling her tongue inside you as you vibrated underneath her, moaning as your release flowed into her mouth and soaked her chin.
“Fuck, Carol!” You whined as she sat up between your legs and lightly ran her fingers over your inner thighs. “That was almost too much.”
“Oh, we’re not done yet.” She smirked as she watched you panting underneath her, reaching for the bedside table again while you squirmed.
“Hey!” you exclaimed as she pulled out a massive dildo from the drawer of toys. “Is that my stormbreaker? I’ve been looking for that!”
“Yeah, well I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.” She murmured before dragging the length on the thing through your slick coated folds, making you keen. “Did you know this thing comes with a thruster?”
“Yeah, why do you think I bought it?” You teased before your eyes rolled back in your head as she shoved it inside you.
She started fucking you with the toy at a punishing pace, grinning as you came apart like putty in her hands. Tears started leaking down your cheeks when she turned the vibrating function on and angled it so it was teasing against your clit with each push.
You whined as she bent over you and wrapped her lips around your nipple and swirled her tongue around it. She grinned against your chest as you tried to arch into her mouth, your restraints still holding you in place.
“Mmm, you gonna come again baby?” She muttered, nipping at the curve of your breast as your body started twitching, your release looming over you as you sobbed wordlessly. “Do it, you look so pretty when you fall apart.”
She twisted her wrist and you shrieked as your pussy fluttered wildly, your release leaking out around the dildo and pooling on her sheets. Your cried as she kept fucking you through it, wet sloshing sounds filling her bedroom as the toy slid in and out of you easily.
You let out an inhuman wail when she turned on the thruster and you felt the tip of the toy punch you in the cervix, coming again immediately as your body writhed wildly.
“Shit, I see why you love this thing.” She smirked as she kissed her way up your chest, still shoving the toy into your overworked cunt as your body went lax, your head polling to the side and drool leaking from the corner of your mouth. “You think about Thor fucking you when you use this, babe? Maybe I should bring him in here to fuck you stupid while I watch, would you like that?”
You just mumbled stupidly as your body shook with another orgasm, sinking into the bed in your fucked out state. Her slap snapped you out of it, making you take in a sharp breath as your brain rebooted.
“I asked you a question.” She growled as she twisted the toy again and you let out a low moan.
“I feel like this might be a trap.” You gasped as she palmed at your breast and laid down against your shoulder, still thrusting the toy into you viciously.
“That sounds like a yes to me.” She purred, nuzzling into your neck as she gave the toy a final push.
You screamed as she pulled it out of you suddenly, your release squirting out of you in a violent rush. Your body thrashed violently with the power of your orgasm and Carol cursed as you snapped her headboard and bedposts, the bed frame shuddering before one of the legs gave out and it sank to the floor with a crash.
“Holy fuck, you ok?” She asked, sitting up and grinning at you as she assessed the damage you’d caused.
“Yeah.” You said, swallowing thickly as you moved your limbs with a groan. “At least we know the cuffs work! Sorry about your bed.”
“Don’t worry about it.” She murmured, grabbing the key and unlocking the restraints before pulling you back against her chest. “We’ll just use yours I guess.”
“Are you gonna move in with me? I think that may give Rogers an aneurysm.”
“He’ll get over it.” She shrugged as you nuzzled into her chest. “Now, how do you think we should approach Thor?”
“What?! You were serious?”
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simsadventures · 3 years
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Panopticon: Chapter 27: War Path
Alpha Steve x Omega Reader
Summary: Steve is livid and tries to find you but somebody keeps putting obstacles in his way. You, on the other hand, get to meet the devils and learn some harsh truths.
Warnings: a/b/o dynamics, angst, abduction, slight mentions of torture, life in captivity, lying, swearing, mentions of violence against women, shitty people in general, loads of feels, I would hope, mentions of suicide, mentions of death
Word Count: 3800
A/N: Du dun… Who is ready for some angst? Many of you weren’t happy that we’re taking this route, but it needed to happen because the world is full of assholes who try to make people unhappy. Anyway, so excited about this one, and I can’t wait for you to tell me what you thought. Love you all!! xx
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“That won’t help to find my Omega, so no!” Steve yelled across the whole room, and even the experienced Alpha fighters gathered in the room couldn’t help but shudder at Steve’s authoritative voice. They were trying to help, coming up with new ideas to try and bring the Circle down, or at least make somebody from the inside communicate with them to tell Steve and his team the location of his Omega. But no idea was good enough for Steve. 
It had been four days. Four days without his precious Omega, and Steve felt like he was slowly losing his mind. He desperately needed you next to him, just to feel your warm, soft skin pressed against his, or to see the light in your eyes whenever you looked at him. But he had nothing. 
He often saw broken Alphas after all that went down on Earth a few years ago, and while he couldn’t really imagine what they must have been feeling at that time, walking like dead men, some of them on the brink of death because they just couldn’t handle their lives without their loved ones, Steve understood it all now. 
He knew he had to concentrate because he felt you in his veins, felt that you were alright considering the circumstances and, most importantly, that you were still alive. That was the sole reason why he didn’t end it yet. But he was hanging on a thread because each day and night he had to spend without you, his mind was going just a little more insane. He was hearing your voice and this morning, he even saw you standing by the bed. He was elated, but when he blinked a few more times, he realised that it was his brain playing tricks on him and that none of what had happened was just a nightmare. 
Moreover, he had to orchestrate a funeral for Peter and Gamora. The sadness over their loss was embedded deep in Steve’s soul, and he knew he would never get over it, even if he got you back. When he got you back, he scolded himself every time he thought of it, but it was to no avail. The desperation and pain seeped deep into his bones, and the once positive Alpha, who used to be full of life was just a walking shell of numbness. 
Sam and Bucky tried to pick up the mood in the room now and then, but they knew all too well that there was nothing they could say or do to make the situation better. The only thing Steve really needed was to get you back, and they empathised with him. Moments after the realisation hit them that you were indeed gone, they rushed to their own huts to check on their own mates. Their bonds felt fine, but the fucked-up situation got into their heads, and they needed to see their loves for themselves. Both Meera and Tina were sitting comfortably in their houses, unaware of the terror going on just mere meters away from them. They all spent the afternoon scenting and crying, their hearts clenching for their friend who was lost in his thoughts and his pain. 
But Steve tried to come up with a solution. He knew Rumlow would take you somewhere far, but not far enough not to brag about it. The circle was almost a day drive so Steve would have bet Rumlow’s hiding place was somewhere between his own house and the hell house they called the Omega haven. But that was still too much land to cover just by foot or by car, since there were so many abandoned houses and warehouses, not even talking about all the hidden places deep in the forests. So, just going somewhere blindly was not an option. 
Then, he thought of using what was left of the functioning camera system between the city and his lands, trying to see if he could pinpoint at least the direction where Rumlow and his team went. But he came up with nothing since most of the cameras had been destroyed soon after the war had started. 
Steve even thought of taking some military dogs and making them sniff your clothes to find you, but that would mean hundreds of kilometres to search, and that was just impossible. Every single thing Steve came up with was a nonsense, and the longer he couldn’t figure out how to find you, the more desperate and angry he had become. His people knew it was nothing personal, but his yelling and blaming was sometimes too difficult to bear for any of them. Steve knew he was being a dick, and he apologised every time his nerves got the better of him, but it was like he couldn’t do anything about it. 
It was when Bucky spoke up with a guilty look that Steve finally got a good idea from somebody. Not that he particularly liked it, but it was something useful at last, and Steve was actually quite angry with himself for not thinking of it sooner. The idea was to call Peggy because she was always able to find Rumlow a little easier than the rest of the world. How that worked exactly Steve never asked, because Peggy was one of those who kept their work pretty shut, and she wouldn’t brag or even talk about it, so Steve had barely any idea of what Peggy really did. There used to be times when he minded when it drove him up the wall, but not anymore. He didn’t care how she did it, the only thing Steve needed was to get you back. 
He called her almost immediately, listening to her smooth voice as she assured him that she would devote a majority of her time to help him because, after all, she still cared for him very much. Steve thanked her from the bottom of his heart and resolved to wait for her to come back to him since there was literally nothing else to do for him but to wallow in his pain. 
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Surprisingly, it only took a few hours for Peggy to reach out and tell Steve that she might have found him. His heart started beating like crazy as if feeling that he might be getting you in his arms sooner than he expected. Peggy told him that she got the memo that Rumlow was hiding in an old warehouse south of the manor, around 70 kms away, and Steve just growled, knowing he was kind of right in his assumptions. He quickly gathered his team, not really speaking much, but they all understood. This was a life or death mission because most of the team was sure Steve wouldn’t survive that if they didn’t find you. 
Steve pretty much jumped out of a moving car when they neared the building, and he got to work immediately, going into the commander mode, assigning roles and talking strategy for when they would come in contact with Rumlow’s team. Everything was meticulously planned, and Steve had a good feeling about that. The only issue was that he couldn’t smell you. But he simply thought that he was still far enough to be able to do that and that they were probably keeping you in some shutoff room.
The closer to the building they got, however, the weirder the whole situation felt. No men were standing outside on the lookout, there were no specific smells to tell the team that there were indeed people hiding inside, and when they finally got in, they found the place completely empty. 
They rummaged through all the rooms, even in the basement and on the roof, but the only thing they got was some cloth lightly smelling like Rumlow, but not enough to tell them how long ago he was at the warehouse. Steve screamed in frustration because there was no sign of you, not even a hint of your smell that he so helplessly craved. 
Bucky and Sam shared distressed looks before they each grabbed Steve from one side and brought him back to the car, hollering at the whole team that the mission was over and that they needed to come back home. Steve didn’t speak the entire ride back, just staring out of the window, thinking of all the times you two would take such rides to and from the city, always discussing new books or just sharing stories from your youths. Steve now found that he took these moments for granted. He enjoyed them, sure, but not enough. There was the nagging voice telling him that he should have done more, that he ought to have taken you with him to that fucking meeting, and none of this would have happened. 
“Stop it, punk. None of this is your fault so stop with the self-blaming and call Peggy to tell you what the fuck happened that her tip wasn’t true,” Bucky interjected Steve’s thoughts, and as many times before, Steve wondered whether Bucky could just read him like an open book or if he had a direct link to his brain. Steve shook his head and dialled the number. 
“So, happily ever after?” Peggy said smugly, and if she stood anywhere near Steve, he swore he would have hit her. 
“Nothing and nobody’s fucking happy, Peggy. Nobody was there except for some piece of cloth that was supposed to smell like Rumlow. Who the fuck gave you this tip? I need to find my Omega, and I don’t have the time to drive around the city and march into every single abandoned building just because you have a hunch. I need real information, Peggy, and if you can’t give that to me, then you’re just wasting my time,” Steve said more tiredly than anything else, but Peggy’s face contorted in annoyance on the other end of the line. 
“I never waste your time, Stevie, you remember that. Look, I thought the info was top-notch, but I’ll keep looking. How about I come to your place, and we can think of a plan together?” 
“Yeah, yeah whatever, it definitely can’t harm us. I’ll be expecting you,” Steve sighed and hung up, nodding at Sam who was watching him through the rearview mirror. 
“Peggy said she’d come and help from the mansion. I mean, I’d rather have the whole fucking team together looking for Y/N, but I can’t fly everyone here from god-knows-where, so anyone who wants to join in is welcomed.” 
Sam nodded but didn’t like it one bit. He understood that Steve was desperate, but Peggy was and had always been bad news, and Sam had a hard time trusting her even back in the days when they had to fight side to side. All the secrecy surrounding her just stank, and Sam was sure he’d keep an eye on her, just in case. He wanted everything to go over smoothly for Steve, and nobody needed a sneaky bitch who would throw them under a train the second she got a better deal from the opposing side. 
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You let your hand slide on the ground underneath you. It was rough with what felt like small rocks that were cutting you in the palm. You were seated, and your whole body hurt since you have been in this position for hours. Nobody talked to you since they killed your friends and abducted you. They just blindfolded you and tied you up, changing positions every few hours probably to disorient you since you doubted anybody really cared how comfortable you were. All you could do was rely on your senses and learn as much about your surroundings as you could. You weren’t even sure why you cared, but your brain couldn’t take thinking about anything related to Steve, so you busied it by making sure you knew everything you could. 
You learned that there were three places they would keep you in. You presumed that they were all in one room, but they changed whether you were sitting or lying down. You weren’t even sure what time it was and slept when they put you laid you down. Nobody ever touched you inappropriately, and that’s how you assumed not one of those people was Rumlow. 
The first place they would let you sit in was in an old crinkly chair made of rough wood as you had a few splinters from rubbing your hands against the arm-holders. It had four metal legs, and from the sounds, it made every time you shifted, you thought it was a rather old and overused piece of furniture. 
The second place was where you were sitting now. It was by the wall, which was cold and smelt of moss, and you even though you sensed death a few times, you knew that was just your exhausted brain playing games with you. The ground was full of rocks and shards of glass, so it was your least favourite place to be of the three. The ground was colder than all the other areas, and every time they made you stand up, there was a wet patch where your ass touched the ground as the coldness accumulated against your hot body, making you wish you could just change. But your abductees would never answer to your pleas, so after what you assumed were a few days, you just gave up asking them altogether. 
The third place was a makeshift bed, created out of a few pieces of wood pushed together and an old and smelly mattress. You tried to ignore all that the smell evoked in you, but you sometimes choked on your own saliva as you shifted and changed position, getting another whiff of what smelt like a hundred of butts and sweat. But it was a mattress, and you could get a few hours of sleep, so you couldn’t dwell on the details. 
When you found out everything there was with your surroundings you tried to pay attention to your abductors. And while you couldn’t say precisely how many there were, you had a pretty good idea. As you were an Omega, blindfolded and cuffed, they always came alone, and you recognised each of the people by their steps. There were four of them, each of them having differences in their weight, the length of their steps and the carefulness with which they handled you. That’s how you came up with the number of four. 
Number two was by far your favourite. They (you assumed it was a he but you couldn’t be sure) would always leave you alone even when you needed to use the bathroom. You knew they were in the room, but they had the decency to at least not physically touch you, and, in your mind, you created this picture that the person even turned around to leave you to do your business. They would also give you the biggest amount of water, seeing how you were parched because number four was a complete asshole and would always allow only a gulp before he drastically took the cup away from your mouth. 
And that was your days, filled with diverting your brain from thinking about the graver questions, like where were you, would Steve ever find you, what did they want from you, etc. Every time any of those popped up in your head, you choked up, and had to start touching your surroundings or else you’d have gone insane by now. 
It was when number three was supposed to come and let you sleep that you heard it. It was faint, but your ears perked up at anything that wasn’t your own breath or the sound of boots of your abductors hitting the ground. And this was neither. These were human voices talking about something behind the door. Your heart-rate picked up immediately because, while you hated the routine of four guards and three positions, you also knew that routine was good. Anything that was out of the routine could possibly mean death to you, and you tried to do anything to avoid that. The voices grew nearer, and you shuddered involuntarily, bracing yourself. 
When the door opened, the cold air hit your face, and you hid it between your shoulder blades. 
“Well, well, well, here is the famous Omega the world is searching for. You look so pathetic, it’s actually quite funny,” you heard a female voice say, and your brows knitted together. You heard it before, you just couldn’t place the voice for the life of you. 
“Yeah, well, the sooner she stops pining for that pathetic excuse of an Alpha and becomes mine, she will look much better. I mean, not that anybody’s gonna see her since she is just an Omega pussy, but she is my Omega pussy, so,” the man trailed off, and you didn’t have to think to place this voice. This voice haunted your worst nightmares, so you were pretty familiar with it. 
Rumlow
“Whatever, Rumlow. All we need is to get rid of her mating mark, and we’ll be good. Steve called me and found the warehouse where I sent him empty, and I, as a devoted friend, told him I’d help him from the mansion so I’ll have easy access to him and I will divert him from here if need be. You just need to do what you must so that I can have him back,” the woman spat, and it was as if a light bulb switched on. God, you felt stupid for not suspecting she had her ugly fingers in this. Fucking Peggy who obviously wanted Steve back even when she visited him all those months ago. 
And while it was nice that Steve didn’t feel the same, this woman was clearly a maniac, and she wouldn’t stop at anything to get what she wanted. 
But, there was one more thing that caught your attention. They wanted to get rid of your mating mark, and the thought paralysed your whole body. There were only a few ways to do that to any mated couple, and none of them was humane or accepted by most people. You’ve heard of Omegas trying to sever their bonds as they didn’t like who chose them, and so they cut a clean line across their mark, but even then the bond couldn’t be severed completely. There was also the option of just biting an Omega hard enough where their mates’ mark was, and trying to beat mark with a mark. 
You also heard that true mates were inseparable, and while Bruce told you that you were true mates, you could never know for sure. The inseparableness of true mates could just as well be some old maid tales, it was one of the things your mother used to tell you, but you had no idea where the truth was. 
The only thing you did know was that however they wanted to do it, you would go through hell, both physically and mentally, and that there was a more than likely chance that you would die in the process. 
“You’re not afraid she’ll die on you?” Peggy asked more curious than concerned because, for her plan to work, your ties with Steve had to be cut. She would have preferred killing you since it was easier, quicker and with long-lasting results. But Rumlow had been obsessed with you ever since he lost the fight with Steve back at the Circle. When Peggy heard about it, she just scoffed and told him he was an idiot, because if he would have called her, she could have just snuck you out without anyone knowing and they wouldn’t have been in this mess. 
“I mean, there’s always the possibility, but I’m not letting her run around with his mark. I wouldn’t like pounding a pussy marked by somebody else. Besides, she’s stronger than she looks, isn’t it right, pussycat?” Rumlow asked, for the first time addressing you. But you knew better than to talk, so you just remained quiet, and from the low hum coming from his mouth, you assumed it was a good decision. 
“And what if that bullshit about true mates is real?” 
“Oh, please, not you too. Nothing like true mates exists, Peggy, I told you. Some just smell nicer to particular individuals than others, that’s it. I don’t even know why we’re losing time talking about this. Go and do whatever you want with Steve and his estate and I’ll just do what I want with this one,” Rumlow rumbled, and the next thing you heard was the clicking of high-heels against the hard floor, leaving you alone in the room with the devil. 
“Now, sweetheart, I think we should begin, hm?”
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“Oh, Stevie, you don’t look good. Here, let me bring you to your bedroom so you can rest and the team and I will search for your mate in the meantime, hm?” Peggy suggested nicely, and Steve nodded, happy there was somebody who could possibly save you. But before she put her claws on his arm, Sam appeared out of nowhere and stopped her hand. She hissed like a cat and Sam gave her an are-you-fucking-kidding-me look. 
“I think it would be better if you stayed down here, Peggy, as you said, you are such a valuable asset to this team that I wouldn’t want to you to waste your time by going with Steve here. I will accompany him to his bedroom so that he can get some sleep, and, meanwhile, you can work with Bucky,” Sam smirked but didn’t wait for her response as he led Steve towards the staircase and up to his bedroom. There was no fucking way in hell Sam would let Peggy be with Steve alone. And since he shared his worries with Bucky, there were two of them looking out for their best friend, which left Peggy in a tough position. 
She watched Sam and Steve leave the room, and Bucky would laugh hadn’t it been such a delicate situation, because Peggy really looked like the Goddess of Revenge. That just further proved Sam’s theory about Peggy being fishy, to say the least, and Bucky was starting to question whether she didn’t have something to do with your disappearance. 
Peggy saw right through them, and she smirked to herself. If they wanted to play games with her, so be it. She would get Steve alone and inject the serum in him she had been making for so long, and they would finally live happily ever after. Just like they were supposed to. All she needed was to stay close to Steve for a couple of days, get him alone enough times, and he would be all hers. 
/ Next Chapter > 
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dailydaydreamings · 3 years
Text
Best in the Worst Way, Part 13
The Reader has been having a love affair with two Avengers and gets caught in a sticky situation. She’s suddenly faced with life decisions she’s not prepared for, including who to love, what she wants, and is this all worth it?
Okay, this took way way too long to write. A couple of things. A) language warning. B) I’m not a doctor. C) I hope I tagged everyone who wanted to be tagged! I tried! Lmk if not! D) I am a total knob with technology and I don’t know how to comment on my own posts without using my main account, so I’m not ignoring you I swear!
Just a couple more chapters, do you think they’re having girls or boys (or both)?
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Bucky stood in the doorway of your bedroom, a bemused look across his face. His eyebrow twitched upward to say, are you okay with this?
Four weeks ago, the answer would have been a hard no. But you were four weeks into a strict bed rest. Steve spent the mornings at the compound and Bucky spent the mornings with you, and then they switched in the afternoons. You spent most of your time reading or learning to crochet, poorly. You were completely bored out of your mind.
So, you cracked a smile and shrugged a shoulder to let him know you weren’t 100% pleased with the situation.
Bucky’s mouth twitched into a slight smile, “Looks great, Steve.”
Steve looked up from where he sat at the end of the bed, painting your toenails. “You’re doing the other foot, this is a lot harder than it looks.”
You groaned, “How are you still on the first foot?” It had only been forty minutes.
Bucky laughed, “Let me get dinner started, okay? You two have fun.”
Your heart gave a small lurch. Bucky wasn’t okay. Not after your trip to the hospital.
He blamed himself.
You looked over at Steve, who had his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth he was concentrating so hard on your pinky toe. You kicked him in the chest with your other foot.
He blinked in surprise, “What was that for?”
You gave him an exasperated look, “Go talk to him.”
Steve looked down at your foot again, “Babe, he’s fine?”
You kicked him again. Harder. “He still blames himself for what happened, dumbass.”
It was no one’s fault really. If anyone was to blame it was your biology. But Steve had yelled at Bucky about the sex, blamed him for the bleeding, on the way to the hospital. Dr Lawrence had said the sex hadn’t caused it but nothing had been the same since. Bucky hadn’t slept in the same room as either of you since. He came in to check on you and Steve. He cracked jokes, made dinner, but kept his distance.
He was beating himself up for this and you weren’t going to take it anymore.
When Steve didn’t answer, you started to heave yourself up, “If you won’t go talk to him, I will.”
“No, no,” Steve put his hand on your shoulder, forcing you to sit. “I will okay. I’m sorry.”
An hour later, Bucky and Steve came in carrying food. Steve handed you a plate and settled in beside you, Bucky seemed to be hesitant to join. He stood beside the bed, ringing his hands nervously.
Your heart gave a little lurch, he did a really good job at making himself look small.
You opened your arm up to him, “Come sit with me, baby.”
He seemed to rock back and forth on his heels, “Every time I want to touch you, my head screams at me that you’re going to start bleeding again.”
You looked over at Steve, who hung his head slightly. He knew this and you’d beat his ass for it later.
“I’m okay, baby, I swear,” you lied through your fucking teeth. “Come sit with me, please.”
Bucky sat at the edge of the bed, not touching you. This would be a start tomorrow he would scoot an inch closer. In three days you’d be hip to hip. In a week he’d kiss your forehead. It would be okay.
But for now, you started with, “So can someone tell me something interesting please? Facebook can only keep me so entertained.”
———
Four Weeks Ago
Dr Laurence was wearing heels. At four am.
It was such an odd detail, but it was the first thing you noticed when you got to the hospital. You didn’t even make it to the compound. The hospital was closer.
Steve carried you into the ER, yelling frantically for help. You were placed on a gurney, and Dr Laurence was at your side a moment later. She was speaking quickly, but you weren’t sure what she way saying. She looked to Bucky and Steve for answers. She was putting gloves on, reaching for the ultrasound.
You were looking at her shoes. Valentino nude pumps, you’d seen them online two days ago and laughed at the price.
You were barely aware that the ultrasound probe had entered you.
Bucky was petting your hair.
You just stared at her shoes.
The moment you looked away, you would have to start to cope with Steve screaming at Bucky the whole way here. The way your sheets were stained with blood at home. The fact you had a house showing in the morning, and you were going to miss it. The fact you had a million unopened boxes of baby things in your apartment.
Your head just screamed the moment you looked away from Dr Laurence’s shoes, she would tell you your babies were dead.
Your ears rang.
Yesterday, they’d been so active. You were cursing their movements begging for a moment of reprieve. You’d do anything for a small kick right now.
“Y/n!” Dr Laurence looked up at you from between your legs.
You lifted your head from the bed, you tried to speak but no words came out.
She motioned at the ultrasound, “It looks like placenta previa. The bleeding seems to have stopped, but I’m going to get you a transfusion. We’re just looking for a heartbeat now...”
You frowned, placenta previa, that was something you’d read about. That was a normal risk, something that could happen to anyone. And the babies...
The familiar sound of their heartbeats filled your ears.
It was the most beautiful sound in the world.
That was it. The flood gates opened and you started to sob. Steve wrapped his arms around you first. Bucky was next, he embraced the two of you, kissing your forehead gently.
Their words filled your ears, setting a blanket of comfort over you.
“They’re okay, you’re okay.”
“It’ll be okay, you’ve got this.”
“Breathe, just breathe for now.”
“We love you so, so much.”
———
“Okay, we cannot be this unorganized, guys seriously?” You pinched the bridge of your nose.
Busy and Steve stood at the end of the bed, their arms crossed over their chest. You sat in bed, your hair in the messiest of buns, looking down at the mess they’d brought you to sort through.
“Well what do you propose?” Steve asked.
“For starters,” You motioned at the mountain of baby clothes in front of you, “Why do we have eight different outfits that were brining to the hospital. There’s two babies.” You held up two fingers for emphasis.
Bucky scratched his head, “This mommy blog said you need two outfits, in case one of them doesn’t fit. Plus, we don’t know if we’re having a boy or a girl.”
“They should look cute when coming home,” Steve asserted.
You only blinked. If someone had said this would be your life one year ago, you would have died laughing.
“Okay, fine,” you grabbed the nearest shirt. “We could go gender neutral, you know that right?”
It’s not like you had any shortage of gendered clothing though either. Tony had loaded you up with boy clothing, swearing you would be having two. Natasha had done the same for girl clothing. And Steve had managed to pick out the most extravagant outfits from each section.
“We can,” Steve conceded. “But I want us to have options. See what they look like when they come out.”
Your nose crinkled. You fucking hated that. Come out. Like they would just slide out of you, no issues.
You rubbed your temples, “Okay, but I refuse to have my kids dress matchy matchy their entire lives. They can if they want, but I will never make them wear the same outfit.”
Bucky chuckled, coming to sit on the bed beside you, “That’s going to go over well.”
You glared at him as he completely destroyed your pile of folded baby clothes.
Steve ran his hand through his hair aggressively, “But they’d look so cute.”
You shook your head, “Only if they want to. They need to have their own personalities.”
Steve looked ready to lose his mind, “But...pictures.”
You levelled him with your mom look. You’d been practicing. “I’ll give you Christmas cards. If the two of you also dress matchy matchy if we have a boys.”
“Deal,” Steve didn’t even hesitate.
You could picture it now. Two little boys in dorky ugly Christmas sweaters and beige khakis, their hair spiked up and Steve and Bucky marching to a tee. Oh it would be glorious, but you realized a moment too late you had forgotten yourself in that picture.
You cleared your throat, “Okay, names.”
Bucky reached over, rubbing his hand over where the babies were most active. A slight smile played on his lips as he leaned over to brush his lips over your bare skin.
You tried your best to ignore the shiver of pleasure that went down your spine.
“I don’t care,” Bucky murmured, “I think we should see what they look like when they come out.”
“No,” you ran your hand through his hair. “We pick now or at least get some options.”
Steve came to sit on your other side, disrupting the rest of your pile. You rolled your eyes, so much for nothing.
“Poppy?” He suggested.
You shook your head, “I like Penelope, not Poppy. I don’t believe in naming a kid a nickname. It feels final.”
They both looked at you funny, but you stood by it.
“What about Carter,” you suggested.
“No!” Both boys said in unison. You stopped, thinking about why that name wouldn’t work before bursting out laughing.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Steve!” You reached over to stroke his face. “Not Carter.”
He chuckled, “It’s not a bag suggestion. I’d love to honour Peggy, but Sharron might think I named them after her.”
You burst out laughing. What an awkward situation that would be. One you’d pay to see.
“Okay, guys,” you snapped your fingers a couple of times, “We need a couple more names. Some more ideas. Let’s go.”
The name started flowing, and you started feeling more comfortable. Aaron, Grace, Henry, Bonnie, Andrew, Katherine.
You relaxed into your pillows. Your babies would have names. No matter what happened.
———
The boys stayed awake at your side while you slept.
You woke a couple of hours, having only slept for what felt like a short moment to find the two of them drinking coffee and nibbling on muffins.
“You look like shit,” you commented, stretching an arm over your head.
Bucky raised an eyebrow, “Look in the mirror, sweetheart.”
You grasped your hand to you chest in mock hurt, “Oh, burn.” You said sarcastically.
Steve chuckled, getting up to come over and kiss your forehead, “We’re just glad you’re okay.”
You stroked his beard lovingly, “I’m okay, and now I’m worried about you two. I’m fine, go home and shower and sleep. Please.”
Steve pressed another kiss to your forehead before moving to sit down beside Bucky, “Not gonna happen, baby.”
You rolled your eyes, “I’m not going to have the babies today. You’re useless to me tired. Go home. Please.”
Bucky shook his head, “We’ll take turns, how about that?”
You rolled your eyes, “You two need to talk and go get me some stuff. Please, let me worry about you two right now instead of myself. Just for a moment. It would make me feel better if you just got some rest at home.”
It took some more convincing, but they finally left. And you were left in peaceful silence. You looked down at your belly. One of the babies gave a swift kick. You smoothed over the spot gently, “I love you, please stay in there a while longer, okay?”
“We’re going to do everything in our power to do so,” Dr Laurence stood in the door way.
You smiled, “I can’t thank you enough for being here last night.”
She nodded, coming to sit on the stool by your bed. She didn’t look happy. You braced a hand protectively over your belly.
She tapped her tablet with a manicured nail, “I’m concerned.”
“Okay...?”
“I’m not going to be gentle. Your blood pressure is through the roof,” she clarified. “You’re at risk for preeclampsia, your labs suggest that this half of your pregnancy is going to be hard. You’re in for a world of hurt. And I don’t think delivery is going to be any easier. I don’t think a vaginal delivery will be an option. You will be on bed rest until you give birth, and I doubt you’ll make it to thirty five weeks. In all honestly, I’ll be impressed if you make it to thirty. But your medical history and labs also suggests a c-section is also not a good option.”
You let out a little laugh, leaning back against the headboard. “The last time I saw you, you were singing praises for how well things were going.”
Her mouth tightened into a thin line, “I also said you should be taking it easy and lowering your stress levels.”
You narrowed your eyes at her, “Are you suggesting I did something wrong?”
Dr Laurence raked a hand through her hair, “I’m not saying you did, but I’m saying we need to start taking this seriously now because I’m not sure how to get the three of you through a safe delivery.”
Your mouth went dry. ‘The three of you,’ had always been you, Bucky, and Steve. It took on a whole new meaning when it was in reference to you and your children.
You may not have lost them last night, but you were well on your way.
“You’ll be on strict bed rest for the rest of the pregnancy,” Dr Laurences’ voice softened. “The good news is, the bleeding has stopped and you’ll be able to go home soon for a couple of weeks at least. We’ll do everything we can to get your blood pressure under control.”
Your hands shook as you reached up to wipe away a tear. “Not of a word of this to the boys.”
Her eyesbrows rose to her hairline, “They need to know so they can take care of you.”
You shook your head, “I have one who is a stiffling mother hen. If he’s worked up, so am I. And the other one is recovering from a major head trauma. He doesn’t remember everything in the last eighteen months. The only thing I can do for him now is to help him get back to where he was.”
“No,” Dr Laurence shook her head. “You need to take this seriously now or you will not make it through delivery. If they think you’re fine and brush it off as a little blood, you will end up in a much worse situation.”
You laughed, rolling your eyes. “We’re not going to play this game, doctor. I will take this seriously and if you put me on bed rest, I will follow it. I just don’t want the risks exposed to my boyfriends. And, you do get to tell them without my consent.”
Dr Laurence looked like she was ready to throw her tablet. “Fine, but the moment things start going south, you will end up in hospital supervised bed rest.”
You glared right back at her, “Looking forward to it.”
————
You sat between your boys watching TV when it happened.
You paused, your food halfway to your face as you felt another tightening in your stomach. They had been happening all day, but all of the sudden you were aware of one thing, it was far too painful for it not to be a contraction.
You dropped your fork onto the duvet.
“What’s wrong?” Steve asked jumping to his feet.
You quirked your head to the side, looking down at your belly, “I think I’m in labour.”
“Shit!” Steve was suddenly gone.
Bucky calmly took your plate and fork and put them on the side table, “You sure?”
“Mmhmmm,” you hummed, as you let out a long breath. “We probably have hours to go though.”
Bucky nodded, “Let me call Dr Laurence.”
Your mouth tightened. She was the last person you wanted to see. You especially didn’t want to hear her gloat that she was right, you’d only made it to thirty-two weeks. Damn her.
Steve’s head popped in the room, “But it’s too early!” And he was gone again.
Your eyebrows rose to your hair line, he was taking this as well as you expected.
On your other side, Bucky put his phone to his chest and said, “Dr Laurence wants you to come in right away.”
You pinched your nose, “I don’t want to labour for the next twelve hours there when I can do it from home.”
Bucky relayed that information to her. And then asked, “Has your water broken?”
You shook your head.
Steve walked through the bedroom, going into the bathroom, talking a mile a minute. “—and we don’t have enough nipple cream!” Was all you caught. You could hear drawers being rummaged through in the bathroom.
“She says to come in anyways,” Bucky relayed to you. “And she says you’re clearly not taking this seriously.”
You rolled your eyes, of course she did.
“And we need another bathroom,” Steve murmured as he walked out of the room again.
“Fine,” you snapped. “And go calm Steve down.”
Another contraction hit hard. Your breath hitched.
Your birth plan, if you were having a vaginal delivery, was to go all natural, but now you were thinking an epidural sounded wonderful.
“You okay?” Bucky rubbed your back.
You took deep breaths, but nodded weakly. “Let’s go, please.”
He nodded, leaving the room to get Steve and your bags, but Steve stood at the door, bags in hand and simply said, “We need to go, guys.”
Bucky came around the bed to help you up. His arms around you, you barely made it out the bedroom before you felt a rush of fluids.
“Well, fuck.” Bucky mumbled.
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vidavalor · 3 years
Text
Bucky’s dual-era dog tags in TFATWS (and when & where he decides to wear them) are giving me some SamBucky-related vibes...
...in addition to the just interesting stuff related to Bucky’s various identity issues. So let’s talk the dog tags. 
First things first, these really do not seem like they’re Steve’s dog tags-- they’re Bucky’s own. Why? Look at the promo still below which is the best view I’ve seen of them in TFATWS. Notice that they are not of the same era. One of the dog tags is a WW2-era tag-- the darker, wider one is not only period-accurate for WW2, it’s identical to the ones Bucky was wearing during WW2 in the movie canon already, most visibly in the “let’s hear it for Captain America!” moment. The *other* dog tag Bucky is wearing in TFATWS, though, is of a more modern issue. It is the kind that would be made for soldiers now and over the last couple of decades. So, how does that mean that they’re Bucky’s and not just Steve’s and what does this have to do with Sam? 
Dog tags are only meant to be separated off the chain in the case of death, as everyone probably knows. Soldiers wear two tags with the same information on them into battle so that one remains on them if they die and the other can be pulled off the chain as proof of a fallen soldier during battle, with the army then usually passing the single chain to next of kin. If Bucky were wearing a pair of WW2-era dog tags in TFATWS, I’d say it was more possible that he was wearing Steve’s tags because Steve didn’t actually have them on when he went into the ice so, somewhere, Steve’s pair of WW2-era dog tags exist as a set, still on the chain. They probably wound up in the Smithsonian at some point but back to Bucky-- his, based on the canon we know, would have been separated after the freight car. 
Bucky was wearing his dog tags when he fell off the train car because he was at war. We know that the Russians found Bucky and then handed him back over to Zola. The Russians, to cover this up, would have taken one of Bucky’s dog tags and given it to the U.S. Army, claiming that they had found them washed up on the shore near where he fell or something. What did the U.S. Army do then? They didn’t know what Zola had done to Bucky beforehand that would enable him to survive the fall so they wouldn’t think to question the Russians on this-- they’d just be like hey, thanks for this and we’ll continue to do the same for you. They would have taken the dog tag and marked Bucky off as dead and then done the next thing, which is to give the dog tag to the soldier’s next of kin. 
Bucky died during war time and everyone knew he and Steve had been friends before the war so whatever general got the dog tag probably just gave it to Steve. Steve *could* have given it to Bucky’s sister at some point-- and we know she exists in the MCU because Bucky briefly mentioned her in TFATWS but we don’t know if he’s gone to see her yet-- but we also have no idea what she’s like in the MCU or if Steve might have just decided to keep the dog tag for himself. Given the trauma Steve went through of witnessing Bucky’s death and them not finding Bucky’s body, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume that even if Steve was the one who told Rebecca about Bucky’s death and all that, that he kept Bucky’s dog tag. The other one, that was on Bucky at the time when he was given back to Zola, was destroyed by Zola during him being brainwashed into The Winter Soldier. 
So, maybe through seeing Rebecca but probably really through Steve, Bucky gets one of his WW2 era dog tags back. Given that he isn’t seen wearing dog tags again until TFATWS, it’s likely that Steve gave it back to Bucky sometime in the Endgame aftermath before Steve went back in time. Let’s unpack how Steve’s heart was in the right place but that was a bit of a loaded gift here...
Free from being brainwashed-- as free as he’s been *since* WW2 anyway-- Bucky is essentially handed by Steve the symbol of what he just can’t be anymore-- that guy that Steve used to know. He’s still somewhat that guy but he’s been through so much that he’s not going to ever go back. Steve is into going back-- back to the same girl, back to the same era, back to a time when things felt less confusing and safer to him, where things will hurt less. Bucky has always been the absolute opposite of this-- while Steve was always desperate to fit the mode of the model man of the WW2 era, Bucky-- a good-looking, able-bodied soldier who can hot-blooded American male with the best of them-- was never a man of his time, always a bit ahead of it. Steve is Captain America-- Bucky is Captain World of Tomorrow. He’s more realistic about what America is because as a guy putting on a show for the world to pass in the society that Steve worships, Bucky has a very different perspective on all of it than Steve did. (See also, obviously, why Bucky and Sam understand one another and are better for one another than either of them with Steve.) Bucky is touched that Steve had this and is trying to do something nice by giving it back to him but it’s the singular dog tag bearing ‘James Buchanan Barnes’ like it’s literally being his own next of kin at this point as Steve’s about to go back into time-- it’s being handed a reminder of the demise of his sense of self and his *literal almost actual death* right when he’s trying to figure out how he’s going to view himself and what he’s going to do in this world now that he’s going to stay in the present. 
So, he’s not wearing it. He doesn’t really know what to do with it. He’s with Sam at the time (maybe not *with* Sam but I mean they’re sharing a lot of the same space, either at the Avengers compound or Sam’s apartment, in the whole Endgame aftermath time period but pre-TFATWS) and Sam sees it and Bucky tells him he’s putting it away because he can’t wear it. Steve was trying to do a nice thing but Bucky’s like I can’t wear one of these things, my old WW2 one-- it’d be like I was a walking corpse. Sam agrees. So, from here two things could have happened...
One is that Bucky could have made the decision to just get himself a modern secondary tag but keep in mind that Dr. Raynor actually had to clear Bucky for active duty and that wouldn’t have happened right away. More importantly, some military guys basically never take off their dog tags but we have evidence that Bucky used to actually *not* be like this so much. While he had them on during the war, much has been made (and should be made, for sure) about how Bucky’s wardrobe changes after his first encounter with Zola compared to when he first left for war. The Bucky in uniform on the double date with Steve is spiffy and spotless; the Bucky in the bar with Peggy and the Howlies is barely hanging on. The most major difference is how much he pushes his uniform away from his neck and stops wearing a hat-- some have theorized that Zola was trying an early version of the mind crown on Bucky before Steve found him, prompting Bucky to develop a trauma-induced need to have things away from his neck. 
This actually doesn’t change that much after Civil War, when he’s free from his handlers and on the run. By necessity, there’s a baseball cap at times but he wears a lot of henleys and there’s not actually any necklaces or dog tags until TFATWS. So, what changes? The addition of the modern tag and his reclaiming of the idea of being a soldier. So, the two options for how Bucky got the modern dog tag are really either a) he went and had one made for himself or b) Sam gave it to him. Let’s look at why the former would be kind of a healthy choice for Bucky but why it’s probably not likely to be what happened. 
One scene that stands out for me is the single scene in TFATWS where it’s really obvious that Bucky is *not* wearing the dog tags. They show up all over the place-- he has them on for basically the entire series. He’s even *sleeping* in them, waking up with them on during a nightmare where they’re prominent in the scene and then also in its contrasting scene, on the couch in Delacroix. So, the one scene we don’t see Bucky wearing them? His first therapy scene with Raynor. 
It’s made pretty clear that while Bucky got a thing or two out of his time with Raynor, it’s not really because of Raynor herself, who is basically a terrible trauma therapist. It’s also clear that Bucky doesn’t trust her and for good reason. We see that he really shouldn’t-- she’s forcing him into rules he can’t actually live by instead of helping him find ways through those scenarios when they invitably pop up (“don’t hurt anyone” is a recipe for failure) and she’s treating a man violated in every way under the sun in a way that’s invasive. She’s monitoring his phone. She threatens his compliance by *bringing out a book that she’s writing his secrets in* like... this isn’t the healthiest scenario here. What we also see is that Bucky subtly rebels against her. He somehow got himself cleared for active duty by her so he’s been b.s.ing her. He is later seen with a smart phone he knows how to use at Zemo’s (and had to have something on which he was online dating profile perusing) but Raynor thinks he just owns an old flip phone. So, it’s something really interesting that this is the one scene where we can’t see the chain of his dog tags. Why? Why doesn’t he want Raynor to know about them? 
Because he’s hiding what they mean to him. If he wore them in, he’d have to talk to her about them. The dog tags represent his real efforts to reconcile his identity and what he wants that to look like-- he’s vulnerable about them because they represent what little hope he has left. If Bucky had gone out and gotten that modern dog tag for himself and began wearing them, it’d be something healthy to share with Raynor. He’d want to show it off, all eager to show the doc the decision she’d see as healthy and let her analyze it with him. We know that Bucky is struggling to reconcile his identity-- it’s literally his whole story arc in TFATWS-- and yet, he’s wearing dog tags that cut to the chase of it, in a lot of ways. Which is why those dog tags were on in New York all the time except for with Raynor-- why he wore them to bed, even-- and why he leaves them on when he goes to see Sam. 
Sam got Bucky that newer tag. Probably when Raynor cleared him as a congratulations thing or maybe just when he saw Bucky left with a friend who went back in time and left him with nothing but a notebook of things to check out and a corpse necklace and felt for him. In essence, Bucky is wearing around another pair of dual identities in TFATWS-- the Bucky who died in WW2 and the Bucky who is still alive again now in the present-- as given back/given to him and represented by the once and future Captain Americas, who also happen to be the guys he’s loved (in different ways) the most in his life. That he’s wearing them is a sign that he wants to be Sgt. Barnes again-- this newer version of himself. It’s progress from the man who shuddered at stuff around his neck and TFATWS shows us that in other scenes as well, in other ways (his hoodie & jacket combo when they go to talk to Zemo; his signature jacket with a higher collar than we’ve seen him in since he left for war.) The wardrobe choices show an evolution-- a willingness to try to a new place of managing what he’s been through. 
But wearing those dog tags around Sam in TFATWS? (And wearing them when he and Sam weren’t really communicating ahead of it?) Yeah. The parallel to Bucky showing up in Delacroix with a whole new outfit for Sam’s new identity as Captain America is that it was Sam who gave Bucky the modern half of his dog tags (and the chain, which is lighter silver and from the present era) and that’s why Bucky has been wearing them. Steve gave him a reminder of the guy he used to be, even if that guy was still pretty dead but Sam gave him a duplicate-- one that represented the guy who belongs to more modern times and is alive. One tag is death; two is life. 
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johnkrrasinski · 4 years
Text
paralyzed;
full masterlist
Pairings: Dark!Steve Rogers x female!reader
Word count: 2,032
Warning: SMUT!!!! non-con, degradation, humilation, oral sex (male & female receiving), murder, mention of blood, kidnapping. (MUST BE 18+)
Summary: Steve Rogers broke into your house but not for your money. 
a/n: i’m back on my dark!steve rogers bullshit. 
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"You should be grateful." He stared down at your writhing form, with a knife in his hands that he had just wiped clean from the blood of her wimpy boyfriend. "I could've killed you too if I wanted to."
The tears of terror flowed from your eyes as you miserably attempted to free yourself out of the robes that were bounding you but to no avail. You wanted to scream for help as loud as you possibly could but all that could come out of your tapped lips were pathetic whimpers.
You wanted to run on your wobbly legs as fast as you could even if you knew you were going to stumble to the ground and scrape your knees and it would only make it so easy for him to catch you but at least you had that fleeting sense of freedom, an ephemeral glint of hope that you could actually save yourself from this psycho.
But it was hopeless. He was too strong. You stood no chance trying to outrun him, all it would lead you to was only in a worse scenario.
But hey, at least you are not dead yet.
Steve Rogers had been watching her and her pantywaist of a boyfriend for months now. Every day, he would sit in his RV for hours and he would park it across their house. He watched him leave to work every morning and she would peck him a kiss on the lips before he entered his car and drove away. He never understood what a girl as hot as her was doing with an average, tedious guy like him. She could do so much more. She should be with a man like him that could satisfy her in bed.
It started when she called for a plumber and the first time he saw her, he was instantly captivated by her beauty. "Fucking hell, she was gorgeous," he thought. She was only wearing a white tank top and booty shorts with a cardigan over her shoulders when he arrived. Her cleavage that was peeking through her shirt and her creamy thighs got him and jerking off at the thought of fucking her into the mattress that night. but he remembered the silver ring around her finger and the pictures of her wedding day in the living room, and he didn't like it. There was nothing that he hated more than what he couldn't have.
And so, a nefarious plan was forming in his head. he waited patiently for weeks, camouflaged himself in a baseball hat and hid in his RV. He observed her from afar, he learned her routines and broke into her house once when she left to the grocery store to memorize every corner and every room. He did it so neatly. He was ready, at another Friday night when it was nearing 12 am, after her husband came home and slumbering next to her, he snuck in through the back door with a dark mask covering his face and he tiptoed into the master bedroom.
He was as silent as a ninja that it was way too swift and a way to easy. He stood over the edge of their bed, he watched their peaceful states and he admired how divine she still looked even when she was deep asleep and the lights were out.
He walked to her husband's side of the bed and put his glove covered hand over his mouth and slit his throat. his eyes bulged as soon as he realized what was happening but he couldn't speak or scream, he could only thrash around until steve cut off his windpipe.
And in a matter of seconds, the schmuck was laying lifeless with his eyes wide open, the splash of his blood tainted his white sheets. He dragged the body off the bed to the floor and the thud woke her up.
It took her a few seconds to realize the gory calamity that was happening before her and before she could scream and run, he held her down on the bed and covered her nose with chloroform dipped handkerchief until she went unconscious.
That's how she woke up an hour later, bound and bare. her head was dizzy from what felt like hours of staying still in the same position now and the fear just kept rising and rising with every movement and noise he made. at least she was sure that he wasn't going to murder her just yet.
You had so many questions swirling in your brain, you began searching for the people you might have had done wrong or any suspicious behaviour that you might've had neglected... Not a single one had given you a valid answer.
"You must be wondering who am I and what do I want, huh?" he scoffed. "Don't worry. I'm not here to hurt you or for your money, I'm here for you."
You could feel the bed dipped with the weight of his arms behind you. He loved the view of your ass up in the air, face pressed to the blood tainted sheet and your limbs knotted with ropes. the things he was going to do to you...
"Remember when you called me to fix your sink a few months ago? Boy, you looked miserable as hell. knew it since the first moment I saw you that this guy doesn't have the guts to fuck your brains out. well... Didn't would be more appropriate." he smirked. "I met a lot of housewives and most of them practically begged for me to make them cum but, none of them was as sexy as you."
Gou could hear the clanking sounds of his belt being unfastened and him pulling down his pants and underwear just enough to spring his cock free. He pulled you down harshly to the edge of the bed, your skin burned against the friction.
You tried to push him away with your feet but he overpowered you by keeping you in place. "Don't fucking move, bitch. Or we are gonna do this the hard way, you want that?" You didn't fight back or resist by keeping quiet... not that you could do much anyway. "good."
He bent down his knees and dipped his head into your core, he licked a stripe over your entrance to your clit and lapped on your juices. He devoured you like a famished man and the squelching noises were deeply humiliating.
His beard unpleasantly tickled you and you knew he was gonna leave some beard burn later but that was your least concern right now. "Mmm, so fucking sweet, just like I imagined." He groaned at your taste, sending vibration to your core.
You moaned when two of his fingers intruded you and his thumb was circling your clit. Your body betrayed you by producing the wetness that you resisted. He curled his digits and brushed the spot that made you lose your mind. You sighed when he pumped in and out of you, scissoring your walls. “Look at you dripping all over my fingers. Can’t help it, can you? You need to be fucked hard by a real man so bad.”
The tears in your eyes had blurred your vision. His filthy words made you squirm. “Don’t worry, little slut. I’ll give you what your wimpy husband couldn’t.” He was amused by your reaction as he kept rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves. You mewled through your muffled mouth.
You felt your orgasm approaching, an unwanted eruption. But you were so close to the edge and when he moved in and out of your walls faster, you were pushed over the edge, making a mess all over your captor’s fingers. “That’s it. Go ahead, bitch. Show me what a dirty little slut you are.”
Your legs trembled and you were coming down from your high when Steve turned you around and now you were face to face with your captor. You wanted to curse this debauched man for ruining your life but all you could do was plead with your eyes to stop and let you go.
He stroked his cock and grazed it along your slit and milked it with your wetness before violating your body by pushing it to your entrance. “So fucking tight.” Steve began moving in and out of you, stretching you wide open with his cock. He began by pulling out until only the tip was in and impaled you deeply, jolting your entire body.
He repeated this motion and accelerated his pace. He kept his eyes on the way your breasts bouncing with every thrust. He untied the robe around your ankles and lifted them up onto his shoulders. You could feel him deeper than before and it hurt. “Take it bitch, take my cock like the fucking whore you are.”
Your visions were getting hazy by second. You were locked in your own body. All you could do was lay there and take it until he was done. He sped up, trying to chase his own release and the coil in your abdomen tightened. No, please no, not a second one. You spasmed and you exploded, this one was bigger than the last. Steve only chuckled at the sight while still ramming in and out of you vigorously.
“Fucking whore. Acting like you don’t like it but you’re so desperate to cum, huh? I’m gonna fucking wreck you.” Your walls clenched around him and Steve’s cock throbbed. He threw his head back and groaned and pulled out of you to dump his load all over your body, your breasts and your belly were covered in his thick, white cum.
You felt numb, you could only lay in an uncomfortable position with the robes digging into your skin with tears flowing from your eyes. You didn’t know if you could ever recover from this molestation if you were lucky enough for Steve to let you live… You’d be left with the pieces. At this point, you didn’t know if him ending your life would be a better or worse option. At least, you wouldn’t have to bury your husband or tell the police, your friends and family about what happened.
Just when you thought he was done, he turned you around so your head was hanging on the edge of your bed. “You didn’t think I’m done with you, yet, did you?” He stood tall above you, his face was like a demon creeping up in the dark, ready to pounce on you. “Please, just stop, please. I can’t- I can’t take it anymore.” You stammered through your ragged breaths. “Open your mouth.”
“Please, I’ll give you whatever you want, just, please, let me go.”
“Open your fucking mouth, bitch. Or I’ll do it for you.” He threatened.
You cried as you parted your lips slowly, but Steve was impatient. He propelled the tip into your mouth and he hit the back of your throat. You whined at the pain but the reverberation only aroused him even more. He gripped your breasts and used them as handles and fucked your face. “Gonna use you like the cockslut you are.”
He shut his eyes and grunted, profanities falling from his mouth. Tears were falling from the corner of your eyes and your gag reflexed. You could taste yourself around him. He pinched your nipples and you shrieked. “Suck my cock, slut.” He taunted. You swallowed around his shaft. It didn’t take long for him to drive his hips faster and he was ready to burst at any second.
He convulsed and drained his fluids down your throat. He stayed there for a few more seconds until he had no more drop to give and withdrew. You felt void, used and paralyzed. Your body wasn’t yours anymore and no matter how many showers you were going to take, there was no ridding his traces all over your skin.
“Let’s not waste any more time, yeah? We’re going to your new house. I’m gonna keep you as my personal sex slave. You’re gonna have a new life as my fucktoy and you’re gonna learn how to serve me. Get on your feet.”
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step-on-me-natasha · 3 years
Text
Blade; chapter 3
summary: Parker "Blade" Wiles, a high ranking SHIELD agent with an aptitude for sharp objects, goes missing. When Blade is found again with a darker and colder demeanor, SHIELD, with the help of The Avengers, are tasked with finding out what happened to their colleague and friend. 
OC is ace and uses they/them pronouns
pairing: Natasha Romanoff x OC! reader
warnings: needles (IVs), let me know if there are any others
RECAP:
“I'm doing the thing Florence Wiles could never do.” The room went silent. All the lab assistants stopped working. Everyone just stared at the two of you.
“Knock her out and put em’ under, I don't have time for this.” Madam barks and for the second time that day, everything went black.
*Meanwhile at the Avengers Compound
After the mission, the rest of the team got off the jet while Natasha stayed behind. Still in your seat, her eyes scan the room and land on your journal. She chuckles to herself because only you would have a bright purple journal. She knows she shouldn’t look through it but she does anyway. As she’s reading through the two entries, her vision starts to get blurry. She wipes her eyes and stands up and walks off the jet straight to her room.
“Hey Nat! How’d-”  
“Not now Clint.” She snaps. She practically runs to her room and slams the door as she starts to cry. She sits down at her desk, turns to the next blank page in the journal, finds a pen and starts writing.
Hi Blade, it’s Nat, I know when you see this, because you will see it, that you’ll probably be mad at me for snooping but it was something i felt i needed to do. Your last words to me before you disappeared were “dont worry about me, I got this.” and part of me believed it. Foolish of me. I should’ve stayed with you. I know you're strong and capable and smart and you’ve been in a situation like that before, but god damnit I should’ve gone with you! Bucky thinks it's HYDRA, Tony thinks it's what's left of the Red Room. Men, ugh, So dumb. HYDRA has been wiped off the face of the earth and the Red Room is, as i said, retired widows living the life they deserved. I think it's something or rather someone else. Who it is, I don't know. But enough of this, I'm not here to write about who took you, I don't know why I'm writing. But, and I quote, “here goes nothing.”
The first day you walked into the compound, scowling face and all, I knew something was special about you. You stormed into the conference room, like you always do, and plopped in the chair you claimed your own. When everyone else joined you in the room you didn’t even look up until someone said your name and coughed. You stood up, said your name was Blade and sat back down. It was pretty funny if Steve “stick up his ass” Rogers wasn’t in the room. Something, I think Clint, said to “show your power” or something like that, and you walked out of the room and everyone followed you to the new high tech training room. You then found a bow staff, broke it in half, had Tony load the most advanced training sequence. You set a record, with the broken staff, in that training session, curtsied, and walked out the room.
Anyways, that's not what this is about, I wanted to write this to let you know that we, the team, are here for you. We care about you. I care about you. So, on that note, you better get your ass back here so we can eat some garlic bread and watch some shitty reality TV.
Love, Natahsa
She stares at her note for a little while, thinking about what she could’ve done to save you, to have you here with her. But instead of you being with the team, with her, you quite possibly, could be dead. She can’t think about that right now. She wipes her tears, closes the journal and gets ready to take a shower. After her shower she gets dressed in shorts, a hoodie and a pair of fuzzy socks. She makes her way out of her room to get something to eat while Clint slides in front of her.
“What's up with you? You got Barnes' broody scowl going on.” He says with a mouthful of food.
“That's cold Clint”  
“shut up Barnes, you know it’s true.” He shouted back. “Anyways, seriously, is something wrong?”  
“They’re gone Clint. They are gone and we don't know where they are.”
“Who?”  
“Are you fucking serious Clint? Blade! Blade is gone! And we have no clue where they are or if they're alive! And you're making jokes right now?!” Her eyes start watering again.
“Oh no Nat, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't know Blade was missing, I thought I saw them walk in.” He says as he pulls her into a hug.
At that moment, Nat lets herself cry. She balls up the front of his shirt and just breaks down. “They’re gone, Clint, and I don't know what to do!” She says through her tears.
“Nat what do you need me to do? Let me help.”  
“Find her Clint! Unbreak your arm and fucking find her!’ She cries.
*At the old HYDRA base
After the group of scientists knock you out, again, they put you in an armoured truck, with many following behind, to transfer you from this old base to the new MYST headquarters.
“Madam, what are we supposed to do with the new asset?”  
“Tie them up. And make sure that it’s secured, we don't need it escaping again.” Madam orders.
The ride is long and bumpy and these scientists have been pumping you full of fluids and unknown liquids. Pull up to a gate with a pin pad. Madam gets out, puts a passcode in and the gates open up. They pass through the threshold and into what looks like a parking garage. They park the truck and roll you out.
“Hey, hey what's going on?” You say as you start to wake up.
“Ugh, someone take care of this! They woke up again!” Madam yells.
“Hey, no hey! Let's not do this again!” You say.
“That's not an option sweetheart”  
“And why is that? Huh? I don't know what you want, other than a winter soldier”  
“I want what HYDRA took from me.” She says “Knock her out and start over! We will begin testing strength tomorrow morning!” Madam says as she walks away.
“God, what a bitch.” a scientist mutters under her breath. Heh heh, I like this one.
“I know, at least you're not the one tied to a bed” You say back.
She gasps, “you weren’t supposed to hear that”  “Well, I am a well trained spy and assassin, you learn how to pick up on small sounds.” you chuckle.
“Yeah well, still.” She says harshly. “Youre only here for one thing, and it’s my job not to fuck that up, so you weren’t supposed to hear that.” She says as she injects you with more unknown liquid.
You wake up in a new room, tied to a bed this time. Upgrades people, upgrades. Your eyes scan the room and land on two IVs dripping; one blue and one purple. I am going to die here.
“Ahh, you're awake.” Your head snaps to the right.
“Super soldier serum,” She nodded towards the IVs. “Whatever was left of what HYDRA perfected it, I got the last of it when it fell in 2014.” Madam starts.
“What's that purple shit?” You interrupt.  
“That purple shit? Really? I've been working on that for years and the best you can do is ‘that purple shit’? Really?” A small scientist comes out from behind Madam.
“Oh sorry, I should be more sensitive, what is that weird ass purple liquid that is being pumped into me?”  
“You're a rude person.”  
“Yeah well, I'm currently strapped to a bed with strange liquid being pumped into me. I'm obviously not thrilled about it!” You shout.
“Okay, enough! You two are children!'' Madam yells. Children (derogatory).
“The purple stuff is a concentrated metabolism booster. It makes you heal 3x faster than just the super soldier serum. It makes you basically invincible.”  
“Oh cool, does it give me laser eyes like Superman too?” wrong universe, shit.  
“You are insufferable!” The small scientist exclaims.
“Thanks, it’s my main character trait.” You sass back.
“Oh my god, shut up already!” Madam yells. “Dr. Nichols, you go prep the room while I handle the new asset.” New asset? Get a better name.
You roll your eyes and scoff as the small scientist storms out of the room.
“Got something to say sweetheart?”  
“No no, you do your thing”  
“In about-” She checks her watch, “10-15 minutes, you’ll have a small device inserted into the back of your neck, specifically at the base of your skull.”  
“Sounds painful”  
“It is. The device will expand and it will attach to your brain, causing me to be in control.”
oh shit.
“Cat got your tongue sweetheart?” You stay silent. “Well, nice chat! I'll see you later!”
She leaves the room as your eyes start to water. Oh my god. There is no way I'm getting out of this. As you sit there, waiting for what’s going to come next, nats face pops into your head. And the fact that there is a chance that you’ll never see her again, talk to her, touch her again, makes the tears threatening to fall, fall.
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scarletdawnxx-blog · 3 years
Text
Nightmares: A Bucky Barnes x Reader Story. Chapter 6
Steve loaded the last of your things into the truck you were taking. Stark wanted you to test out a new all electric option, he had decided he wanted to break into the all-electric vehicle game, he didn’t want to be shown up by Elon. Stark was all about going greener nowadays. You hadn’t seen much of Bucky since your date and your heart sank a little. Maybe the feelings weren’t as mutual as you thought. You tried to make it as unnoticeable as possible that you had been looking for him. You couldn’t really think of an excuse to linger any longer.
  “Well, I guess this is goodbye,” Steve said, putting the last bag in.
“Don’t say it like that, I’m only three hours away. You won’t get rid of me that easily.” You replied trying to lighten the mood. You would see them all again. They were your family. Nat smiled and gave you a tight hug. You had already said your goodbyes to everyone else. Tony was trying to play it cool but you could tell it was getting to him. He had treated you like you were one of his own, but you knew with the new Parker kid coming on board he would be just fine. Steve came in and gave you a big, crushing hug next. “Steve I can’t breathe,” you gasped out and he laughed. He kissed the top of your head and let you go. He was the big brother you always wanted, but it wasn’t his arms and laugh you were wishing for at that moment.
  “You let us know when you get there safely,” Steve said in a serious voice. You nodded and looked around the garage one last time. You opened the door to the truck and started to get in. He didn’t come to say goodbye. Your eyes met Steve’s and he gave you a sad smile. He knew who you had been looking for. Letting out a breath you climbed in and pulled away watching Steve and Nat get smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror.
  After the drive, you finally pulled up to the address you were given and it wasn’t what you were expecting. It was as if someone had dropped a very large English countryside manor in the middle of upstate New York. You made your way up to the front and were met at the door by Jean, you would know her in an instant, her hair was unforgettable.
  “Hello again Y/N” she greeted you with a smile. “The professor is waiting for you in his study.” She said and ushered you inside. The school was beautiful. Warm and inviting, with so much charm and character. You could tell there was a lot of love and happiness in these halls.
  Jean led you to a large office just off the main stairs. The professor was sitting behind his desk looking over papers. He looked up and smiled at the two of you and you cocked your head a little, catching your first glimpse at the Professor's feelings. Relief. It surprised you since even when you had tried to use them on him you were met with nothing. Completely locked out.
  “Y/N, it is so good to see you again. I hope the drive was pleasant,” he said and wheeled himself from behind the desk.
  “Yes, it was peaceful, you have a beautiful home here,” you replied, trying to make polite conversation.
  “Thank you, this has been in my family for generations. Shall I give you the tour?” he asked and ushered you back into the hall. You nodded and followed. “The first floor is offices and classrooms. You’ll find the kitchen at the far back, dormitories are the second and third upper levels as well as common areas. There is a pool, sports courts, and gymnasium around the grounds as well.” The professor went on as you followed him down the halls, he would point out the occasional tidbit here and there. You followed along and listened as he explained the classes offered. It really was a school for gifted kids and not just for their abilities but intelligence as well. You stopped suddenly when an overwhelming sense of grief hit you. You looked around and saw a young girl sitting in a window seat, staring out into the yard she couldn’t be more than ten or eleven. The professor noticed.
“Ah, that’s Rose. She has been with us for about six months now. She hasn’t spoken since coming here.” He explained and you looked from him back to her. What had happened that made her feel that kind of pain.
  “What happened to her?” You asked quietly.
  “Her powers manifested violently. It left her an orphan. She blames herself. I haven’t been able to reach her.” He said sadly. The poor girl. You approached her gently.
  “Hello Rose, my name is Y/N, can I sit with you?” You asked her and she nodded. You sat across from her and looked out the window as well. You looked back to Rose and focused. Her grief and self-loathing were overwhelming, you wanted to cry and scream out from everything she was feeling. How could she stay so silent with all that inside of her? “It wasn’t your fault.” You whispered to her and she looked at you shocked. “I can help if you want.” You offered up to her with a small smile and gave her a small glimpse of what your power could do, letting it just sweep gently over the grief like a balm. You caught a glimpse of the memory that these feelings were attached to. The utter destruction. Not even knowing what she could do she was powerful. “You didn’t know, couldn’t have known, what was happening. I know you miss them and blame yourself, but it wasn’t you.” You told her, taking her hand in yours. You had said something similar to Bucky and your heart grew sadder. “Don’t let this consume you,” you pleaded with her. Her anger was bubbling to the surface. She believed she needed to be punished. That she deserved to live in her own hell forever and that trying to take that away from her would take away her identity.  You wanted to show her a different way. “You know I have a friend who was a lot like you. He was forced to do terrible things, kill people. He didn’t have a choice but he still felt the guilt of everything that he was forced to do. It was eating him alive. He would have terrible nightmares, do you have nightmares?” You asked her and she only gave you a slight nod. “I could help with that. I could make them stop. Make all of it stop. You will always miss them, but it doesn’t have to hurt.” You told her hoping to get through. She began to cry and you scooted and held her close as she cried and cried. You held her and let her cry, you could feel her heart breaking over and over again as the cries echoed through the empty halls. When she had settled back down you pushed the hair from her face and wiped her tears away. “Would you like me to help?” you asked her again and she nodded. You smiled at her and just as quickly those feelings were gone. The grief, the blame, the pain. You took it all from her. She blinked at you and threw her arms around you in a hug. You smiled and hugged her back.
  “Thank you,” she whispered in your ear.
  “Of course, dear one.” You held her until she let go. “Why don’t you go rinse your face with some cool water. It will make you feel better and get a little rest. I’m going to go talk with the professor and get settled in. Find me later and we can go for a walk?” you asked and she nodded and bounded off.
  “You don’t know what you have done for that girl.” The Professor said.
  “Why have you never tried to use your abilities on her?” you asked wondering why he hasn’t helped her past her grief yet.
  “I have tried reaching her through her mind, she was so lost in her grief I wanted to give her time, see if she could come out of it on her own.” He explained.
  “She is a child, did you not think to try harder, to get her into therapy?” you asked annoyed that he let a child live in that grief for six whole months. The professor didn’t have an answer for that and continued on. You huffed but fell into step beside him. He led you to an elevator that began to take you below the main level. When the doors opened you were once again surprised by what you were seeing. An entire underground complex below the manor house. Here everything was bright and high tech and reminded you of the compound.
  “These levels are restricted to the children. Only those who have been deemed X-Men are allowed on this level. We have training rooms, labs, weapons room, and a hanger for the jet.” He explained as you followed him down the hall until you came to a large round door with an X across it. The professor approached and a retinal scanner activated. The doors opened to reveal a massive round room. A large platform jutting into the center. “This is Cerebro, this is how I found you, how I find more like us.” He said and you followed him in. You were in awe of the cavernous room. Metal panels lined the entire thing and a small control panel sat at the end of the walk way that led to the center. “I know this is all new to you and a lot to take in. It has always been my wish to help those who feel lost and different. Not everyone can always be helped.”  He said sadly and you knew there was more there to dive into but now wasn’t the time. “I hope that you can find the answers you are looking for here, and perhaps help us, as you helped Rose.” You followed him back out of the room and he led you to a lab where you were greeted with a very large blue, something. “This is Doctor Hank McCoy.” The professor introduced and he extended his hand which engulfed your own.
  “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He responded and you smiled and nodded.
“You as well. What are you a doctor of?” you asked, looking around the lab. The doctor was full of curiosity and it made you feel a little like a lab rat.
  “Biochemistry and genetics, I also teach science and mathematics.” He explained. So, he was a super genius. Were all mutants this highly intelligent? You nodded and wrapped your arms around yourself, a habit that made you feel a little more protected from the outside world. “If you wouldn’t mind, I would like to run some tests on you, when you are ready of course.” Hank continued.
“What kind of tests and why do you need to run them?” you asked, trying not to sound fearful.
  “To get a grasp on the extent of your mutation to better help you and us to understand it and to learn how to harness it.” Hank said with a reassuring smile.
  “Hank has been invaluable in unlocking the secrets to mutation and helping all of us understand ourselves better. It doesn’t have to be right away. Get settled in, take some time, and Hank will be here when you are ready.” The Professor offered.
  “It has already been a long morning. If I could settle in a little, I would love to have a conversation with you Dr. McCoy, this is all just very new and a little overwhelming if I’m honest.” You offered up. It had been a long morning already. You had been on the road by eight in the morning and that was after loading the truck and saying goodbyes.
  “Of course, I will show you to your room Y/N” The professor said and you followed him from the lab. He took you to the third floor from the main level. This was where most of the instructors and so-called X-Men had rooms. Someone had already brought all your things in and your life was just a stack of boxes and bags in an unfamiliar room and all of a sudden the change really set in and a melancholy set into your chest. The professor excused himself and you shut the door finally alone. You sat on the edge of the bed and put your head in your hands, the emotions overwhelming you. Right now, your friends and life seemed a world away and not just a few hours. You pulled your phone out and saw messages from Steve and Nat. Steve as always was encouraging and Nat sent pictures of Tony after he had an experiment literally blow up in his face and singed half an eyebrow off. You laughed sadly at the image. You missed them all so much already.
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wiypt-writes · 3 years
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Stark Spangled Banner
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Ch40: I Went For The Head
Intro: The Avengers track Thanos down and confront him for a final time, but it doesn’t go according to plan, and leaves them facing the horrible fact that there is simply nothing they can do to set anything right.
Warnings: Bad Language words. And a helluva load of angst.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark
A/N: Please heed the warnings… thanks to @angrybirdcr​ for this edit- the first one of Katie in the Supernova suit... 
Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.
Chapter 39 Part 2
Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist
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“Can I have a cheeseburger yet?” Tony grumbled.
“Probably best to start with something a little less greasy.” Bruce stated, checking the drips attached to Tony’s arm. “It will play havoc with your stomach.”
“Porridge?” Pepper suggested.
“What?” Tony pulled a face “For real?”
“Good idea.” Bruce ignored Tony as he continued to check the readings on the monitor besides the bed. “With honey, it will help your energy levels”
“And then a cheeseburger later? “ Tony persisted. 
“What is this obsession you two have with cheeseburgers?” Bruce looked at him, then to Katie as Tony shrugged.
“But seriously…” he began and Pepper cut him off
“No, Tony!”
“I’m gonna go get that porridge before this turns into a full scale domestic.” Katie grinned. 
“’ll have it in the living room.” Tony sat up a little more.
“No, you won’t.” Katie looked at him at the same time Pepper protested but Tony cut them both off.
“Yes I will.” He shot back, “We need to talk, de brief, plan.” “Steve, tell him it can wait.” Katie looked round at her husband, who had up until that point been observing silently from the side of the room. He made the mistake of hesitating, just for a split second, and she glared at him.
“Honey…” He began and she held her hand up.
“Don’t wanna hear it.” “Look, Tony’s right.” Steve tried to explain but she shook her head.
“No, no he is not. Bruce, help me out here please!” She looked to the Doctor for help who sighed as he shook his head.
“What’s the point? He’ll do it anyway.” Bruce’s voice was resigned. “I’ll fetch a chair.” “I don’t believe this.” Katie groaned and ran her hands over her face as Pepper and Tony were now full on arguing. She looked at Steve and he visibly recoiled at the look of pure anger on her face “If anything happens to him I swear to God, Steve, I will kill you!”
Steve knew Tony should be resting, he really did, but the Billionaire had been adamant earlier that they needed to do something, and fast. And they’d been on tenterhooks for over three weeks now. Steve was itching to see if Tony knew something that could help. Simply put, he didn’t want to wait any longer.
Half an hour or so later they reconvened in the conference room, Katie still extremely pissed off. Tony was sat at the table, perched in a wheelchair with an IV bag connected to his arm, hung from a pole behind him, the remnants of a bowl of porridge were in front of him. He was busy looking at the pictures of those that were lost flashing on the holographic screens all around the table as Natasha was talking, his chin resting in his hand as he concentrated. Katie shot Steve another angry glare and he sighed, looking back at Natasha as she spoke.
“World governments are in pieces. The parts that are still working, are trying to take a census. And it looks like he did-” Natasha paused as she swallowed, “he did exactly what he said he was going to do. Thanos wiped out fifty percent of all living creatures.”
“Where is he now?” Tony asked looking right at Steve as he lifted his head from his hand.
Steve sighed before he spoke. “We don’t know.” He opened his hand, allowing it to dall to his side. “He just- opened a portal and walked through.” He leaned back against the back of an arm chair, his arms folded across his chest.
Tony sighed and looked around the room, frowning as he glanced over to where Thor was sat on a bench outside, deep in thought as his hands wringed together. Katie knew the sight of Tony looking so ill last night when he had seen him,  had knocked the god further back into his dark mood, the one she’d tried, and so far failed, to coax him out of.
Tony gestured to the God “What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s pissed. He thinks he’s failed.” Rocket sighed from his spot sitting on the floor against a wall. “Which, of course, he did, but you know, there’s a lot of that going around, ain’t there?”
Tony leaned forward in his chair, mouth agape at the talking raccoon, “Honestly until this exact second, I thought you were a Build-a-Bear.
Katie grinned, the familiar Tony Stark sass coming back out to play was music to her ears.
“Maybe I am.” Rocket answered, and Steve steered the conversation back.
“We’ve been hunting Thanos for three weeks now. Deep space scans, and satellites, and we got nothin’.” He took a deep breath, almost afraid to ask the next question. “Tony, you fought him-”
Tony furrowed his brow, cutting Steve off, “Who told you that? I didn’t fight him. No, he wiped my face with a planet while the Bleecker Street magician gave away the stone. That’s what happened. There was no fight. Because he’s unbeatable.”
“Okay,” Steve softly cut in. “Did he give you any clues? Any coordinates, anything?”
Tony blew air out loudly through his lips as he gave a sarcastic salute to Steve.  Steve narrowed his eyes and accross from him Katie let out a silent groan, and glanced at Natasha who gave a loud sigh.
“You know, I saw this coming a few years back. I had a vision, you remember that Kiddo?” Tony looked at Katie as she took a deep breath. “But, I didn’t want to believe it. I thought I was dreaming.”
"Tony, I’m going to need you to focus-” Steve started as he stood, taking a step closer to Tony.
”And I needed you. As in past tense.” Tony tilted his head and looked up at Steve, dropping his hand from where it had been rubbing against his lip. “That trumps what you need. It’s too late buddy, sorry.”
Tony’s words echoed round Steve’s head and it felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Tony was right, he’d let them down, he’d let them all down. He tried his best to keep his face from falling as he breathed deeply and he saw Katie watching him intently, her face expressionless.
“Ok, that’s enough.” She started, moving towards Tony but he shook his head, and waved her away. 
"You know what I need?” He asked, his voice rising in volume and Steve’s attention turned to him as he stood, throwing his hand down and sending the remnants of his bowl of porridge flying across the table. “I need a shave. And I believe I even remember telling all of yous, alive or otherwise-” he began to rip his IV out of his arm as Katie stepped forward at the same time Rhodey did.
“Tony, Tony, Tony, stop!”  Rhodey said gently, as Tony ignored him and continued.
“-that what we needed was a suit of armour around the world.” He snapped voice raising as his breathing increased without the IV bag feeding him nutrient any longer. “Remember that? Whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not, that’s what we needed.”
Precious freedoms…Steve’s face fell further as he took in Tony’s word, his brother-in-law still blamed him. He took a deep breath and looked at him. “Well that didn’t work out, did it?” he finally said, his voice full of sadness, tone soft.
But Tony was just getting started, and he paid Steve’s remorse no attention as he continued. “I said we’d lose. You said, ‘We’ll do that together too.’” He mocked in a deep voice. “Well, guess what Cap? We lost, and you weren’t there. But that’s what we do, right?” Tony looked around. “Our best work after the fact? We’re the A-vengers? We’re the A-vengers, not the Pre-vengers?” he questioned rhetorically to Katie as she moved to stand in front of him, placing herself in between her brother and her husband.
“Okay, you made your point Tone, just sit down.” Her hand gently pressed to the middle of his chest.
“She’s right.” Rhodey looked at him, taking hold of his shoulder.
Tony ignored both of them completely, instead he turned to Carol and pointed at her. “She is fantastic by the way. We need you, you’re new blood. We’re a bunch of tired old mills.” he gestured around,  shrugging off Rhodey’s grasp, and gently pushing Katie to one side as he stepped right up to Steve pointing a finger in his face. Steve swallowed and looked down at Tony as Katie hesitated behind him, ready to intervene if Tony did anything stupid.
“I got nothing for you Cap. I’ve got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options. Zero, zip, nada. No trust, liar.” His whispered the last word.
Another punch to the gut. Steve took a deep breath, his chest falling. It was true, he had no defence or response.
“Tony, that’s not fair.” Katie began, glancing at Steve who looked like he had just been slapped. As she did, Tony reached up and ripped the arc reactor off his chest and shoved it into Steve’s hand. Steve looked down at it in utter incredulity.
“Here, take this. You find him, and you put that on.” Tony then turned to Katie. “And you, seeing as you follow him everywhere, you hide.”  
Before the last word was fully out, Tony stumbled, tilting forward and Katie caught him, dropping to her knees keeping his weight supported as best she could, as Steve and Rhodey also crouched down.
“I’m fine. I…” Tony’s protest was cut off as he collapsed, out could.
“Get him into the medic bay.” Bruce instructed immediately, as Steve effortlessly picked him up and followed Bruce out of the room, Rhodey close behind. Katie hurried after them, with Pepper, as Steve gently lay him down on the bed before he stepped from the room as Bruce began hooking him back up to the drips.
“I told you!” Katie followed him out, blazing with anger. “I told you he wasn’t up to this. When are you going to realise you don’t always know better?”
“I’m sorry.” Steve gulped and looked down at his hands, before he took a deep breath, his chest shaking. “And for the record, I realised that a long time ago.”
He looked utterly dejected, and Katie felt the anger in her system ebbing away, and she let out a sigh.
“Steve, I’m sorry, I didn’t…”
“Don’t.” Steve shook his head, his eyes dropping to the floor. “Don’t say you didn’t mean it, because you did. Just like Tony meant what he said before.”
“He was lashing out.” Katie gently lay her hand on Steve’s arm. “He feels guilty. And probably hasn’t had the chance to process and think about it like we have.”
“Thing is you’re right, and he’s right. I am a liar.” Steve sighed and shook his head, raising his eyebrows as he continued to look at his feet. “I did say we would fight together, and when it came to it, we didn’t, because I couldn’t swallow my damned pride over the Accords.” “Hey.” Katie’s voice dropped as she reached up to turn his face to look at her. “Those accords, that entire situation was complicated, Steve. It was never as simple as just swallowing your pride.” “Yeah it was.” He shrugged, shooting another sad glance in Tony’s direction as Rhodey came out of the room, leaving Bruce to bustle about and check the IVs.
“Bruce gave him a sedative. He’s probably going to be out for the rest of the day.” Rhodey informed them. Steve nodded but his attention flew to Carol when she spoke.
“You guys take care of him, and I’ll bring him a Zorien Elixer when I come back.” She stated before walking away.
“Where are you going?” Natasha questioned, her tone laced with confusion.
“To kill Thanos.” Carol said simply as she kept walking away. Steve and Katie turned to each other, then looked at Natasha before they all followed her down the few steps back towards the conference room.
Natasha reached her first, “Hey, you know we usually work as a team here, and between you and I, morals a little fragile.”
“We realize up there is more your territory, but this is our fight too,” Steve added, as Rhodey chipped in.
“Do you even know where he is?”
“I know people who might.” Carol replied
“Don’t bother.” A different voice came from the doorframe behind Carol, and they all whipped around to face Nebula. “I can tell you where Thanos is.”
Katie exchanged a glance with Nat, then Steve, and they followed the blue woman to the common room where Rocket was waiting. Rhodey arrived shortly after with Bruce, who looked around questioningly.
“Nebula had an idea and we ran some scans.” Rocket hopped up onto the table as Nebula began talk, bending over the keyboard at the holograph.
“Thanos spent a lot of time trying to perfect me. And when he worked, he talked about his great plan. Even disassembled I wanted to please him. I’d ask ‘where would we go once he’s plan is complete?’ his answer was always the same, 'To the Garden.”
She finished typing in some coordinates.
“That’s cute.” Rhodey scoffed. “Thanos has a retirement plan.”
“So where is he?” Steve asked, not hiding the edge in his voice.
“When Thanos snapped his fingers, Earth became ground zero for a power source of ridiculously cosmic proportions, no one’s ever seen anything like it.” Rocket explained pulling up a hologram of Earth, then a simulation of the power source he was talking about swept over the simulation before the hologram morphed into another planet, “Until two days ago, on this planet.”
“Thanos is there.” Nebula said, matter of factly.
“He used the stones again.” Katie breathed, her mouth going dry as she leaning forward to get a closer look.
“Hey, hey, hey, we’d be going in shorthanded, you know?” Bruce stuttered.
Rhodey joined in. “He’s still got the stones, so-”
“So let’s go get him. And use them to get everyone back.” Carol shrugged, as she looked around.
“Just like that?” Bruce questioned.
“Yeah. Just like that.” Steve replied nodding as did Carol. He was done waiting now, it was time to act. This was the best chance they were going to have.
Katie looked at the holograph before looking up to Natasha.
“I mean, even if there’s a small chance that we can undo this, we owe it to everyone who’s not in this room to try.” Nat argued, her voice almost breaking at the words.
“If we do this, how do we know it’s going to end any differently than it did before?” Katie asked, looking around.
“Because before you didn’t have me” Carol stated simply, her hands on her hips.
Steve almost smiled at the look on Katie’s face, her eyebrows disappearing into her hair they’d shot up so fast. But it wasn’t his wife who replied, it was Rhodey.
“Hey new girl, everybody in this room is about that superhero life. And if you don’t mind my asking, where the hell have you been all this time?” His tone was clipped.
“There are a lot of other planets in the universe,” Carol shot back before she sighed, her tone softening, “Unfortunately they didn’t have you guys.”
Katie glanced at Nat, then Steve who raised his eyebrows in a “fair enough” gesture a small smile flickered across his face. But, before anyone had time to comment, there was the sound of a chair scraping against the floor as Thor stood from the table he’d been eating at and stomped toward Carol, making Katie jump as she’d completely forgotten he was there.
He came to a stop in front of the woman, staring at her for a beat before lifting his hand. His axe flew past her, mere inches from her head, whipping her hair around her face.  Not even a flinch. Instead she looked up at Thor appraisingly, her mouth twisting into a small smile.
Thor pondered for a moment, both hands resting on the top of his axe. Eventually he nodded and turned to Katie. “I like this one, Little Stark.”
Katie gave a huff of a laugh before she looked at Steve.He was staring at the alien planet on the hologram before him, jaw twitching. This was it, their chance to bring everyone back. They had to go for it, they had to. The instruction the team was waiting for came in the form of a low growl, the steely Captain America determination emanating from every word Steve spoke as he glanced up.
“Let’s go get this son of a bitch.”
*****
“Alright, now, who here hasn’t been to space?” Rocket asked.
Katie raised her hand and in front of her Natasha did the same as did Steve and Rhodey. Thor looked round, grinning.
“You better not throw up on my ship.” Rocket warned, turning back to the front.
“Approaching the jump in three-“ Nebula said loudly.
Katie clamped her right hand into the side of her seat, reaching her left across the space between them to grab Steve’s hand.
"Two.”
He laced his fingers into hers as he turned his head to look at her, giving her a soft smile.
“One.”
The pure force of the ship’s speed pushed Steve back against his seat as they shot through space, and his eyes widened. It was stunning, the stars and galaxies whirred past in a flash of purples, pinks, silvers and then the ship slowed to a stop.
Rocket opened the hatch and Carol headed out, turning back to the ship as she floated in front in the air outside.
“I’ll head down for recon.” Her voice came over the speakers and she turned and flew away.
Katie unbuckled her seatbelt and stood, stretching her legs before she turned and headed towards where Thor was sat, eyes focussed on a spot on the chair in front of him.
“You okay?” She asked, sitting down next to him. He turned his head to face her and took a deep breath.
“I’m going to kill him.” He said simply before he looked towards the front of the ship. Katie glanced up at Steve who was watching her, turning his compass over in his hand. He gave a small smile before turning to Natasha as she looked up from the tablet she was poking around on and spoke to him as he glanced down and opened it, looking at the photo of him and Katie inside. That day seemed like an age ago, happy, carefree their faces looked back at him, cross eyed and grinning into the camera.
“This is gonna work Steve.” Nat said, confidently.
“I know it is.” Steve replied simply, snapping his compass shut as he looked up at his friend, before he glanced back at Katie who had her head led on Thor’s shoulder. This was their last chance, the hope they’d been clinging onto, not only to bring everyone else back but the precious thing that had been taken from them. And if it didn’t work…well he didn’t even want to think about that. “Because I don’t know what we’re gonna do if it doesn’t.” He finished eventually.
Natasha gave him a small squeeze before they both glanced up as a bright light filled the ship. Carol had returned.
“No satellites. No ships. No armies.” She spoke incredulously as she hovered outside. “No ground defences of any kind. It’s just him.”
Nebula spoke as she stared straight ahead at the planet “And that’s enough.”
Rocket piloted the ship, following Carol, and landed at the bottom of a hill, a small hut perched on top of it. Steve stood up, turning to everyone and he noticed Thor’s eyes were flashing with lightning as he grit his teeth together.
“Think he’s in there?” Katie asked, squinting up at the hut. Nebula nodded.
“Alright team, just as we planned.” Steve instructed. Katie took a deep breath and walked down the ramp, glancing around. It looked just like a farm. Rhodey, even though the comment had been sarcastic, had hit the nail on the head. He’d killed countless people and then fucking retired to a farm.
“Are you ready?” Rocket asked.
Katie nodded and twisted her bracelet, the nano-tech of her replacement suit flowing over her. She leaned her arm down to allow the raccoon to climb up onto her shoulder and at the same time she saw Thor’s hand gripped round the handle of his axe, as Bruce picked up Natasha in the Hulk buster.
One by one those who could fly, crashed into the hut, surrounding Thanos on all four sides, taking him completely by surprise. Carol gripped him in a choke hold, and before he could so much as retaliate, Thor took a swipe at his hand, cutting it clean off taking the Infinity Gauntlet with it, as Thanos let out a scream of pain.
Katie stood in front of Thanos, her repulsors raised as she heard Steve and Natasha head up the steps into the hut. She turned to watch as Rocket jumped off her shoulder, kneeled and rolled over the severed gloved hand, where he recoiling instantly, clanking up.
Katie felt her stomach clench. The stones were gone.
“Where are they?” Steve bit, drawing level with Katie as he stared at Thanos.
Thanos’ breathing was laboured, almost as if he was struggling to draw oxygen, and Carol tightened her grip around his neck.
“Answer the question.” She growled.
Thanos shifted uncomfortably. “The universe required correction.” he grit out between deep breaths “After that, the stones served no purpose beyond temptation.”
“You murdered trillions!” Bruce yelled as he kicked Thanos against the wall of his shack.
“You should be grateful.”
Bruce punched Thanos again, and Katie moved forward to look down at him, and when she spoke her voice was shaky.
“Where are the stones?” She demanded, retracting her helmet.
“The stones are gone. Reduced to atoms.”
"You used them two days ago?” Katie bit back, not wanting to believe what he was saying, desperate for him to be lying.
“I used the stones to destroy the stones.” Thanos looked down at his arm which was horrifically burnt right up to his neck. “It nearly killed me. But the work is done, it always will be.”
She glanced at Steve, whose face had slipped ever so slightly. The Captain took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto hers which were now filling with tears as the magnitude of the situation sunk in. The stones were gone, and without him, there was nothing they could do.
“I am inevitable.” Thanos breathed out, and at his words a dark hopelessness flooded Steve’s system as Rhodey began to desperately stutter.
“We’ve got to tear this place apart! He…he..has to be lying,”
But as Steve turned to look Thanos, he could tell instantly he wasn’t.
“My father is many things.” Nebula said softly, stepping forward as she looked down sadly. “A liar is not one of them.”
“Ah, thank you, daughter.” Thanos looked at her and praised, “Perhaps I treated you too harshly.”
At that point, Thor gave a growl and swung his axe aggressively and with a single swipe, he took off the Titan’s head, and Steve could do nothing but look down at the headless body, his chest heaving.
“What?” Rocket gasped, “What did you do?”
Thor was silent before he looked round the room and his eyes locked with Katie’s “I went for the head.” He answered simply before he turned and left.
“Thor?” Katie called out shakily stumbling after her friend. “Thor? Where are you going?”
“It is over. There is nothing more we can do.” His voice cracked as he turned to face her, placing his hand on her shoulder as he looked her square in the face. “I bid you farewell Little Stark.” With that he dropped a soft kiss onto her cheek and stared straight into her face, his eyes full of tears. “You have a big heart, full with fire. Never let that fire go out.”
And with that he held his axe high above his head. The Bi-Frost engulfed him and in seconds he was gone.
Katie’s legs gave way and she collapsed to the floor, numb. Thor was right, it was over. And there was nothing they could do about it. She jumped slightly as a hand dropped to her shoulder and she spun to see Steve, his eyes shining with his own tears, face giving away the devastation he felt inside as he knelt besides her, pulling her to him.
This was it, the absolute end of any hope they had.
****
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
The pummelling noise his fists were making on the punching bags was like a mantra in Steve’s mind. With every blow he was landing, a different person and how he had failed them flashed in front of his eyes.
Katie, their baby, Bucky, Sam, Wanda, Tony…
This had always been his standard way of coping. When the pressures of his new life got to be too much, and he couldn’t sleep or cope, he would take out his anger on a punch bag or by running, but as the years had gone he had started to do it less and less, until he had pretty much stopped altogether.
In fact, he hadn’t done this really in any real anger, since Katie had gone missing, but then he hadn’t felt as angry and as useless as he did right now since then.
He pulled back his right fist and gave a particularly violent punch, scattering sand from the bag all over the floor. That one had hurt. He stopped, glanced down at his fist and grimaced. His knuckles were split wide open.  
“Steve?”
He heard Katie’s voice and he took a deep breath, grabbing the bag in front of him with his hand as he pressed his forehead against it, the bag gently spilling its contents onto the floor.  
“Stevie?” She repeated, stepping close and saw that her Soldier was trembling from head to toe, his T-shirt soaked with sweat as it clung to his body, his hair plastered to his forehead.  For a moment he didn’t speak, until he took a deep breath, and Katie almost didn’t hear him his response was that quiet.
“It’s my fault.”
Katie took a deep breath, blinking back her tears. Steve had been stoic since they had returned to the compound almost four weeks ago. But now, here he was stood before her, completely undone, his every part of his soul was dripping with guilt.
“We failed, remember?” Her voice shook at little as she took a step towards him, reaching out for his arm, but he jerked away, glancing at his hands which were trembling, blood dropping from his split knuckles to the floor.
He continued to look down, avoiding her gaze and gave a derisive snort. “Appropriate huh, blood on my hands. What kind of father would I have ever made?”
Before Katie could stop herself she’d slapped him across the face, hard enough to whip his head around to the side. His eyes widened slightly, the shock of the blow worse than the actual slap itself, but still he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. 
"Don’t.” She managed to say, stumbling over her words as her voice cracked. “Steven Grant Rogers, don’t you fucking dare!”
Steve shuddered as her words bounced off the walls of the gym and he finally looked at his wife. Katie’s anger drained away instantly and she reached up, cupping his face and smoothing the cheek she had slapped.
“Steve,” she looked straight into his eyes, “Tony always told me as a kid that as long as you can tell yourself honestly you did the best you could, then there is nothing else left for you to do. And we did the best we could.” She took a huge shuddering breath. “Yes, it wasn’t good enough but that is not on you, okay?” Her hands tightened their hold on his face as her own tears fell in time with his. “You’ve led us through thick and thin, been there, taken countless hits for us. The Avenger’s couldn’t have asked for a better Captain and I…” her voice cracked again as Steve stepped into her embrace and she whispered her last sentence into his ear, “I couldn’t wish for a better husband to be by my side.”
Steve buried his face in his wife’s hair, breathing in her familiar smell as the damn broke inside him and he simply cried until he had no more tears left to shed, Katie doing the same as she pressed her faced into his chest, her hands tightly fisting in his damp shirt.
“I don’t deserve you.” He croaked eventually. And he didn’t. She was so brave, strong and pure hearted. What had he ever done to be worthy of that?
“Yes, you do.” She sniffed, looking up at him. “You’re a good man Steve, and you’re my man. I love you more and more with each day that goes by.”
She slid her hands up to his cheeks again and he closed his eyes, breathing deeply, relishing her touch, allowing it to calm him the way it always did. Eventually, her hands moved down to take his, and she pressed a soft kiss to the ring on his left hand.
“Til the end of the line.” She whispered, before she leaned up and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close once more, her hands gently brushing through his hair as she soothed him softly, her lips brushing his cheek.
They stood there for a little while, neither speaking, Steve simply seeking out the comfort she was offering before she stepped back into his eye-line and reached up once more, brushing the tears off his cheek.
“Come on, Soldier.” She leaned up to press a soft kiss to his lips. “You need to rest.”
Steve didn’t argue, he was exhausted. Her fingers of her right hand tangled with his left, gently so as to not aggravate his bruised and battered hands, and he allowed her to lead him from the room.
**** Chapter 41 Part 1
**Original Posting**
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avengerscompound · 4 years
Text
The Surrogate - Chapter 14
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The Surrogate:  A Clintasha Fanfic
Masterlist PREVIOUS //
Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Clint Barton x Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader
Word Count:  1774
Rating:  E
Warnings:  Pregnancy
Synopsis: A freak end of the world incident leads to meeting your two best friends, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff.  While your friendship with the two Avengers is anything but conventional, they are your all-time favorite people.  When you find out that Clint and Natasha want to start a family but have exhausted all their options, you realize your powerset might allow you to give them what they want.  Having your best friends’ baby might seem like a good idea on paper, but when you are as close as you, Clint, and Natasha are, will doing something so intimate mean feelings get a little mixed up?
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Chapter 14
“What about Yelena?”  Natasha suggested.  You and Clint looked around from your spots around what was becoming the baby’s nursery.  Clint was painting the walls in a shade of lavender that the paint chart called ‘Instigate’.  You had been working on the trims while Natasha prepped one wall for the mural that Steve had agreed to paint.  You weren’t sure if she was just particularly active today or the paint fumes were bothering her, but the baby was kicking you a lot and you were starting to consider taking a break.
“What about Yelena for what?”   Clint asked.  “You’re not inviting her here are you?”
Natasha started laughing.  “You love Yelena, stop pretending.”
“She’s terrifying, Nat,” Clint argued.
“I’m terrifying - you love me,” Natasha teased.
Clint put down his paint roller and approached her slowly, he circled his arms around her waist and pulled her in close.  “Yeah I do,” he said and brought his lips to hers.
There were moments like this that made you a little jealous.  Not because of the affection.  That you got from them fine.  Clint was a human koala while Natasha tended to be a little touch adverse, so you usually had Clint clinging to you.  It was the history you were jealous of.  They knew so much about each other.  There were in-jokes you weren’t privy to and stories you’d never heard.  Even though you’d known them for so long, there were still things to learn and you wondered how you were ever really going to catch up with the level they were already at.
“Who’s Yelena?”  You asked when Natasha pulled back from the kiss.
“She’s my sister,” she replied, pulling away from Clint completely and going back to painting the undercoat on the wall.
“Sister?  But I thought… the Red Room…”
“Yes,” Natasha said without looking up from her work.  “The girls I was raised with, we were raised as sisters.”
“Not in a healthy loving family way,” Clint clarifies.  “But you take what you can get, right, Nat?”
“Yes, you do,” Natasha confirmed.  “Not too many of us survived it.  Yelena did.  We were close.”
“You might get to meet her sometime if you’re lucky,” Clint said. “Just be glad you’ve got that healing thing.  She can be a little stabby.  And shooty.  And bitey.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” you said.  “How come I never heard about her before?”
“Probably for the same reason I’ve never told you that my brother has tried to kill me before,” Clint explained.  “Don’t like to go over the complicated relationship that is the sibling who might as soon kill you as hug you.”
Natasha gave a little shrug.  “I only bring her up now because it might be a nice name for the baby.”
It felt like you’d been winded.  Here you were planning to have a life with these people and you realized you barely knew them.  You knew all about their lives now of course -  but before SHIELD?  There were just odd things here and there in the middle of a sea of nothing.  Yet they seemed to know everything about each other.  How could you ever fit in with them if you never knew them and you were always the third?
“I’m just going to grab a drink,” you said, putting your brush down.  “Do either of you want anything?”
Both Clint and Natasha turned and looked at you.  It was that look that told you they knew exactly what your mind had just done and you weren’t fooling anyone.
“Okay, dorogáya,” Natasha said, putting her hands on her hips.  “We’re going to let you go get your drink and put your mind in order, and then you’re gonna tell us what just happened in your head.”
You huffed and nodded.  “Fine.”
As you left the room Clint started laughing.  You hadn’t planned to keep your thought processes from them.  Being in a polyamorous and open relationship meant that trust and communication were the only way any of it would to work.  Like Natasha had said, you just needed to step away from them to process the jealous/unworthy feeling you had.
You made yourself a lemonade and when you came back out to the living room, Clint and Natasha were waiting on the couch.  Clint had purple paint on his clothes, arms, and a little on his face, while Natasha was perfectly clean.  With Clint’s big goofy grin and Natasha’s serious scowl, they were so perfectly them.
“Okay, babe, what did we do?”  Clint asked.
“Nothing,” you huffed, collapsing into the recliner.
“It wasn’t nothing,” Natasha reasoned.  “I said about naming the baby Yelena and you looked like I slapped you in the face.  Was it the name?  Did you have a name you haven’t told us?”
You shook your head.  “No.  It’s not that at all.  You could go; Katherine Yelena; Yelena Katherine - you could name her Number 16 Bus Station if you wanted,” you said.
Clint snorted.  “What the hell?”
“It was a kid’s name, look it up,” you said.  “Later.  The problem is, you guys… you know everything about me, and everything about each other.  But you literally just told me you both told me a big secret about your siblings.  What else don’t I know?  I just worry that I’m going to be playing catch up and that I’m never going to be as close as you are.”
“Dorogáya,” Natasha said, patting the couch between her and Clint.  “Come here.”  You moved between them and Clint wrapped his arm around you while Natasha took your hand.  “Darling, our pasts are dark.  We don’t talk about them not because we don’t love you or we don’t want you to know about us, but because it’s painful and we don’t like thinking about it.  Think about the things we have told you, they can be very dark, no?”
You thought back to the stories of the Red Room and their training program, the crime at the circus, the small amounts about both their physical and mental abuse that they both endured growing up - it was dark and it made your heart break and you wanted to wrap them both in blankets and protect them from the world that had hurt them so much.  So if they hadn’t told you something, it was likely very dark.  “Right, of course,” you said, feeling slightly ashamed.
“Babe,” Clint soothed, rubbing your back.  “We aren’t keeping things from you, we just haven’t brought all that up.  We probably don’t know everything about each other yet.  If you want to know, you can ask, right, Nat?”
Natasha nodded.  “Of course.  I want you to know me.”
“Part of the fun is learning though, don’t you think?”  Clint asked.  “We’ve got plenty of stories to tell you.  You wanna hear one of the ones where my brother tried to kill me?  He’s done that a bunch of times.  One time it was in a funhouse with a mirror maze.  That was fun.”
You leaned against him.  “Just tell me one thing each.”
“Okay, what do you want to know?”  He asked.
“Why did he try to kill you?”  You asked.
Clint shrugged.  “He got a shit hand in life.  I mean we both did, but I was at least given a chance to be good at something other than crime.  He wasn’t.  There came a time where the people that raised us wanted us to rob a bank.  I turned them in.  He never really forgave me for it,”  Clint explained.  “So even though he’s tried to kill me and he stole a whole fuck load of money from me, I do actually love him.”
“Damn,” you said, patting his thigh.
“And what was your question for me?”  Natasha asked.
“If Yelena is so ‘stabby’ why would you want to name your daughter after her?”  You asked.
“Because she deserved to have a life with a family that loved her and protected her,” Natasha answered.  “And maybe I can give that to her niece.”
You smiled, though tears pricked your eyes.  “I can understand that.”
“Now is that it?”  Natasha asked.  “Do you still doubt that we love you?”
You shook your head.  “No, I know you do.”
“You gotta say it back,” Clint said.
You laughed softly and took each of their hands.  “I love you.  Both of you.”
“Good, now can we go back to being all happy and in love?  I like that part best,” Natasha asked.
You nodded and leaned into her, your lips slightly parted.  She bridged the distance and her tongue traced over the corner of your mouth before her lips pressed against yours.  It was soft but deep and you hummed gently.  Clint ran his hands around your waist and over your stomach.  The baby was still kicking and as his palms pressed against the swell of your belly he gasped.
“Woah, was that… is she kicking?”  He asked.
Natasha pulled back quickly and looked down at your stomach.  “You felt her?”
“I think… did I?”  Clint said.
“She’s kicking,” you confirmed.  “I just… figured you still wouldn’t be able to feel.”
You moved his hand and pressed to your side.  “Here?”
It was another moment before she kicked again. Clint’s eyes went wide.  “That?  That was her?”
“Yes!”  You squealed.  “I can’t believe you can feel her.”
“Let me,” Natasha said, pushing Clint’s hand away.  You held her hand in place waiting for the little flutter against your side you’d gotten so used to.  When she kicked a huge smile spread over Natasha’s face and she crouched down so her face was closer to your belly.  “Hey there, lisichka,” she cooed.  “Are you a busy girl?”
You hummed as you watched her, and played with a loose strand of her hair.  Clint moved to the floor next to her and the two of them spoke to the baby like it was already here.  It was funny how quickly the mood could change, where a moment ago you felt so outside and now you felt like the center of things.  Maybe that’s just how it was when you shared your heart with two other people.  Focus shifted, but it didn’t, things happened at varying speeds, the bonds between each other were different, it didn’t mean that anyone was loved less.  It just meant they were loved differently.  That was okay.  There was a lot of it to go around.  Clint and Natasha had been starved of it and now they had chosen to share it with you.  You were lucky really, not many people could say they had that.
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// NEXT
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iwillbeinmynest · 4 years
Text
Redcove Harvest - Bucky x Reader(f)  Chapter 1
Authors Notes: Okay so I really wanted to finish this whole series before I started posting but I’m just hoping that y’all will be patient with me because I really am itching to post something. Anyways, I hope y’all like it.    And obviously it doesn’t take much to get me to cave and post before I should. Just a little encouragement will do so please comment and let me know what you think!
AU: Farmhand!AU and SingleMom!Reader
Word Count: 
Notes/Warnings: (Notes are for the whole series) FLUFF, mentions of a past toxic relationship, a wild storm at the end, drama and a break-up, mentions of drinking, kids being adorable and ridiculous, kissing, romance and a tiny bit of angst if you look hard but nothing more than that of a Hallmark movie.
Masterlist
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Moodboard by @itsanerdlife
Chapter 1
Bucky walked out of the airport and took a deep breath of air that he knew for certain wasn’t polluted. He smiled when he recognized Steve’s white and mint green Chevy pulling up to the curb.
“I’m lookin’ for a Mr. Barnes?” He called with a grin.
“That’s Sergeant to you, punk.” Bucky smiled at the sight of his best friend.
“You need a ride, Mr. Fancy Sergeant?” Steve joked as he shouted from the driver’s seat.
Bucky threw his large olive duffle in the bed and grabbed the door. “I don’t feel like walkin’ that’s for sure.”
Steve and Bucky hugged for a second before patting each other on the back really hard.
“Glad to have you back, man.” Steve said as he pulled away from the curb.
Bucky leaned back in his seat and sighed, “Glad to be back.”
They settled into a bright conversation of childhood memories that lasted the entire two and a half hours back to Redcove, Georgia.
Bucky and Steve had been friends since birth, their mothers being close friends who ran in the same circles. They were inseparable. It was always one chasing around the other but mostly Bucky chasing Steve to make sure he didn’t get into another fight.
They were on the same little league teams, went to the same summer camps, as well as the same schools- not that there was more than one option in this tiny country town.
After high school, Bucky got it in his head that he was going to join the military and went out and signed up the week after graduation. Steve had tried to follow him, but didn’t qualify.
Bucky left that August and only came back home twice- when his mother died and when Steve’s mother died. But now, he had served his country and was finally ready to retire to the calm of Redcove.
Steve pulled up to his family’s farmhouse and threw the truck in park. “Well, home sweet home, right?”
Bucky smiled as he looked across the familiar lawn. “Home sweet home.” He repeated.
“Stay as long as you like, Buck. The house is big enough. I know it’s too big for just me.”
“Property looks good,” Bucky commented as he got out. “You keep it up by yourself?”
“Nah,” Steve pulled his keys out and unlocked the front door. “I got a kid who works for me every other week. Nice guy, high schooler.”
“Oh,” Bucky sounded a little disappointed.
Steve looked back as he dropped his wallet and keys on the kitchen counter, with a raised brow. “You wanted to work here?”
Bucky put his duffle at the bottom of the stairs and then went to the kitchen. “I mean, kind of. I know the property and I need a job.”
Steve grabbed two beers from the fridge and handed one to Buck. “Well, I can’t fire the kid but I could put you on at the store, at least until you find something else.”
Bucky lit up a bit. “That would work.” He smiled.
Steve extended his bottle, “Welcome home, jerk.”
Bucky tapped his bottle to Steve’s and grinned. He took a drink and then scrunched his nose. “Is this lite?” He turned the bottle to see the label. Yep.
“You got a problem, buy your own beer.” Steve smirked.
“Punk.” Bucky shook his head with a grin and took another sip.
*   *   *   *
 Bucky huffed as he dropped another bag of chicken feed onto the loading cart. He hauled the cart onto the store floor and began to restock the feed.
Rogers’ Feed and Seed was a family business. It was Steve’s grandfather’s, then his father’s and now his. Bucky remembered coming here after school and helping out until closing. The store hadn’t changed much. There were a few new faces that he didn’t know but some of the older patrons he still recognized.
On his break, Bucky walked to the back to find something to eat when a flash of white caught his eye. In the hallway to the break room, there was a bulletin board. There were a few business cards pinned there, a lost dog poster and a few ads. One was for a dog sitter and one had baby goats for sale but the flyer that caught his eye was an ad looking for a farmhand.
The paper was white with black marker on it.  A smile teased the corners of his lip, he liked that it was straight forward.
         FARMHAND FOR HIRE
 3 MONTHS WORK GUARANTEED
 POSSIBLY MORE. PLEASE CALL...
And it listed the phone number. Bucky pulled the ad from the board, folded it up and put it in his pocket.
Steve walked down the hall. “Find anything?”
Bucky nodded. “Maybe,” he pulled the paper back out. “Just a farmhand ad. Isn’t long term.”
Steve took one look at the paper and his brows lifted for a moment.
“What?” Bucky was curious, now. “Should I bother? What’s wrong?”
“No, no, nothing’s wrong.” Steve smirked. “You should, uh,” His smile got wider. “Yeah, you should call.” And he patted Bucky on the shoulder and walked back onto the floor.
Bucky watched him for a moment then looked back at the paper. Now, he wasn’t sure he wanted to call.
*   *   *   *
That evening, Bucky sat at the breakfast table under the solitary light and thought about the ad. He held his beer with one hand and spun his phone on the table with the other.
He chewed on the inside of his bottom lip and tried to decipher the very aggravating look Steve gave him in the hallway, earlier. It was the look that told Bucky that Steve knew something and wasn’t going to tell him. And there was no use trying to get Steve to fess up because he was as stubborn as a mule.
Bucky stood from the table and went out onto the porch. He sat in one of the rockers and pulled the paper from his pocket and dialed the number.
“Hello?” he said after she did. Bucky was surprised to hear a woman answer the phone. “....Hi, yeah, I was calling about your farmhand ad. ...Yes ma’am. I can meet you tomorrow if that works. Oh, okay, hold on,” He got up quickly from his chair and hurried back inside. He grabbed a pen but couldn’t find any paper. “Sorry, one second.” He grabbed a napkin from the kitchen. “Okay, I’m ready.”
He copied her address as she said it and then repeated it back to her.
“Okay, yeah, tomorrow at eleven works. Thank you. Okay, goodbye.”
Steve leaned against the counter with crossed arms and a crap-eating grin. “You called her?”
Bucky frowned. “Why do you keep looking like that? What is it?”
“Nothing, nothing.” Steve threw his hands up. “Have fun at your new job.” He called as he left the kitchen.
“I don’t even know if i’ve got it yet.” Bucky stared off after him with furrowed brows. “Wait, what do you mean ‘have fun’?”
“Nothin’!” Steve shouted from the stairs.
“Steve!”
* * * * * * * *
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yikesharringrove · 4 years
Note
There's a Jersey Mike's ad that says "your favorite sub, delivered right to your door" and it made me think of Steve.. Maybe Steve is some sort of sub for hire and Billy comes across his ad?
This made me LAUGH.
Sub for hire meet cute.
Smut
Holy SHIT this got really long omg
Ao3
-
Billy was scrolling aimlessly, holding his dick in one hand, stroking lazily.
He was looking for something good, some pretty boy twink getting fucking destroyed.
He scrolled to the end of the page, and accidentally clicked on the add at the bottom of his screen.
“Oh fuck.” He tried to stop it loading, but then a dark webpage had loaded.
Subs 4 U - submissives for hire Your favorite subs delivered right to your door
He snorted, screenshotting the site, knew Heather would get a kick outta this.
He scrolled through, just curious about this site, the kind of work they did.
It was all laid out in steps.
Step 1: Pick your Sub
There were about twenty pictures, different people of different genders, all with bios and kink lists. He stopped on one.
The guy was hogtied on a bed, a ball gag in his mouth. He was looking at the camera with his big dark eyes, was basically saying fuck me, please through the photo. Billy read through his bio.
Steve, 24, he/they. Steve is a bratty sub that likes being bound, gagged, and fucked. He likes being tied up, chained down, suspended, slapped, and spanked. He likes a big cock and an even bigger toy. Into painplay, full domination, humiliation, and sissifiaction. Looking for a Sir/Ma’am, a Mommy/Daddy, or a Master/Mistress.
Billy stared at his bio.
Would it, would it be fucking stupid to do this? To hire a sub to come to his door?
Billy had never really done the BDSM thing. Sure, he was naturally dominant in the bedroom, and liked a bratty little bottom, but, for how much hardcore porn he watches, he’s never, tied someone up, or flogged them, or whatever.
He clicked on Steve’s name.
It pulled up a schedule, with the title Step 2: Book your time. Steve was booked three weeks out. Billy can see why. This page has even more pictures, pictures of him fingering his ass, or in pretty lingerie, even one where he’s cuffed to a bed, and fucking crying. Billy booked a time.
Step 3: Pick your scene.
There were a few levels.
Level 1: Light domination. Perfect for beginner dominates. Subs will bring a collection of toys and gear and discuss scene options before hand.
Level 2: Mild domination. For more experienced dominates that just like an easier ride.
Level 3: Full domination. For experienced dominates. Full control (within reason) of the submissive.
Level 4: Extreme domination. For regular dominates looking for more. Please discuss boundaries with submissive.
Billy clicked on level one.
He entered his phone number and address, and put in his credit card information. It was expensive, getting a mail order sub for three hours, but he looked back and Steve’s pictures and thought fuck it.
-
Billy was making himself breakfast when his phone went off.
Unknown number: Hi Billy, it’s Steve, your sub for hire! I wanted to confirm our scene appointment and begin discussing expectations.
Billy stared at the text. He bit his lip.
Hi, Steve. Yes, you can confirm our appointment.
Steve (Sub): Great! You selected level one, meaning I’ll bring a selection of toys and gear I like to play with. Do you know much about BDSM?
I mean, I watch a lot of porn.
Steve (Sub): lol 😊 I mean like, for reals.
I’ve done some research, but very little.
Steve (Sub): Do some more before we get together. We’ll just stick with cuffs and stuff so you don’t have to worry about rope. Please get tested if you haven’t after your most recent partner, think about a safeword so you can have that ready, and what you want me to call you. Let me know if there’s anything special you want me to bring or wear. Can’t wait! 🌷
Billy stared at the little pink flower.
So he was really doin’ this. Huh.
-
Billy got a few books on BDSM to peruse during the next three weeks.
He did everything Steve asked, watched videos on some of the things Steve had listed in his bio, tutorials on how to do them safely. He got tested, came back clean as a damn whistle, and thought a lot about what he wanted for their scene.
So by the time there was a knock on his door, he was ready.
He smiled at Steve, who grinned brightly at him.
“Hi! You’re Billy, right?”
“Yeah, that’s me. Come on in.”
“Thank God. You wouldn’t believe the amount of times I’ve gone to the wrong apartment.” Billy laughed. Steve was easy to be around. He was light and happy and made some of the tension ease from his shoulders. “So, you wanna get right to it?”
“’Course.”
“You’ve got three hours. That includes set up and aftercare. Did you do some more research?” Steve had placed his big duffel bag on Billy’s coffee table, was pulling out cuffs and dildos and gags and impact toys.
“Yes, I did. Real research.”
“Cool! You got any ideas?” Billy looked at the spread Steve had brought.
He doesn’t really feel comfortable with impact yet, has been known to lose himself in things like that, and he really didn’t want to hurt Steve. He eyed a big dildo while picking up the set of nice leather padded cuffs.
“I want to start fairly easy. Cuff you up, stretch you open, fuck you.” Steve had a serious look on his face.
“Yeah, that’s cool. What would you like from me?”
“I love a good brat, so if you wanna play that up.” Steve smirked at him. “And, uh, any of the names you listed in your bio are cool.”
“Sir, is kinda my go to. And my safeword is licorice. Did you think of one?”
“I was thinkin’ Radagast.” It was the first thing that had come to mind. Steve grinned at him.
“You’re a nerd. That’s so cute.” Billy tried not to flush. “Okay, cool. So like, do you have any hard boundaries? I don’t fuck with piss and shit, and I don’t like being left alone, especially while bound or in subspace.”
“That all sounds good. I uh, I don’t want to be hit at all, and I don’t want to hit you.”
“Okay, cool. And what are you looking for in terms of aftercare?”
“Isn’t that, like the dom’s job?”
“Nah, doms need after lovin’ too. I like cuddling afterwards, but if that makes you uncomfortable, I’m good with that. I got a cat at home that’ll snuggle with me.” Billy pictured Steve curled up in a thick sweater, a cat curled into his chest.
It was cute.
“I like cuddling.” Steve smiled at him, nodding once.
“Alright, let’s walk through our scene step by step. What are you looking for?”
“Uh, I think I wanted to strip you, if that’s okay.”
“Yeah! Just don’t rip my clothes.” Billy huffed a laugh. “I’m not kidding, some asshole cut off a dress I was wearing, and I was so mad.”
“Alright, I’ll be careful.” Steve raised an eyebrow at him. “Okay, so after that, I want to cuff you. Like, arms behind your back?”
“That works.”
“And then, uh, make you suck me off, then get you stretched open, make you take this,” he held up the big dildo. “And then fuck you.”
“Great! Feel free to play into the scene, if you want to do some orgasm denial, prostate milking, whatever strikes you along those lines, is good with me.”
“Okay. I think all of that sounds good.” Steve smiled brightly at him, standing up. “And I got tested. I’m clean and I have the test results if you’d like to see them.”
“No need. I believe you.” Billy nodded once. “We can begin when you’re ready then!”
“You’re all good?”
“Yep.”
“Alright then, let’s begin.”
“Go ahead.” Billy grabbed his face, made Steve’s breath hitch in his chest.
“What was that?”
“Go ahead, Sir.”
The switch was immediate. Steve’s eyes were hazy, his body deflating just a little bit, submitting to Billy.
“Say it again.”
“Yes, Sir.” Billy let go of his face. He reached for the hem of his shirt, yanking it over his head. Steve made a disgruntled noise. “Oh, what, Baby? Don’t like it when I get rough?”
Steve shook his head.
“Words.”
“No, Sir. I don’t like it when you get rough.”
“That’s too bad, Princess. ‘Cause this isn’t about you.” He undid Steve’s jeans, pulling them down, slapping Steve’s legs to indicate which one he should step out of.
He brushed his hands along Steve’s body as he stood up.
Steve was watching him with dark eyes.
“Turn around.” Billy leaned to pick up the leather padded cuffs. Steve pouted. Billy cock stirred.
“Don’t wanna.” Billy grabbed his face again.
“Wasn’t a fucking question.” He was fully hard now, his dick flushed a pretty pink color. “Turn. Around.”
Steve did as he was told, hands behind his back for Billy to cuff.
They were each secured with a shiny silver buckle, and Billy silently thanked Steve for bringing them, not making Billy figure out rope.
He finished cuffing Steve, plastering himself to the back of his body, grinding his hard dick into Steve’s ass.
Steve sighed out a moan.
“Feel how hard you’re makin’ me, Sugar?” He leaned forward to nose along Steve’s neck. He titled his head, baring his neck for Billy. “What’re you gonna do about it?”
“Anything you want, Sir. Let you do anything.”
“Of course you will. ‘Cause you don’t have any choice.” Steve whined, pressing his ass back against the front of Billy’s hips.
Billy pushed off him, sitting heavily in his armchair.
Steve looked over his shoulder, eyes all big and pouty.
“C’mere, Baby.” Steve was on his in a flash, nestling in his lap, looking through his lashes at Billy. Billy sighed. “Did I say you could sit on my lap?”
“Just, just wanna be close to you.” Billy grabbed his face again.
“What did I say?” He spoke slowly.
“This isn’t about me.” He let go of his face, petting softly over his hair for a second. “It doesn’t matter what I want.”
“Good boy.” Steve melted. Billy leaned forward, his breath ghosting over Steve’s neck. “Now get on your knees.”
Steve slid off him, settling between Billy’s thighs. He leaned forward right away, nuzzling his face into the hard line of Billy’s cock.
Billy grabbed his hair, yanking him back.
Steve whimpered.
“You’re not listening to me, Brat. I didn’t give you permission to touch me.” Steve’s bottom lip trembled.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Sir. I’ll be good, I’ll listen. Wanna be good for you, Sir.” His eyes were all gooey with tears. Billy was fucking delighted, wanted to make him cry.
He leaned back, opening his belt slowly.
Steve watched with bated breath as he undid his jeans, pulling his cock out.
Billy stroked over himself, made a real show of it, swiping his thumb over the head. Steve was watching him intently.
“Go get me the lube, Sugar.” Steve flicked his eyes up to look at him.
“But my hands-”
“Figure it out. Go on. Be a good boy.” Steve’s breath caught in his chest.
He turned around on his knees, shuffling awkwardly to the coffee table. He was totally gonna have rug burn on his knees.
He bent over the table to pick up the lube with his mouth. Billy admired his ass, his skin pale and smooth.
Steve came back to him, bottle of lube in his mouth.
Billy took it, petting over Steve’s hair some more.
“Go fetch your toy.” Steve rolled his eyes. Billy leaned over, grabbing his face again.
He spat right on Steve’s face. His lashes fluttered.
“Did you roll your eyes?”
“I’m sorry, Sir.” Steve’s eyes had gone bright and watery. Billy resolved to make Steve cry at least once before their time was up.
“Go get your toy, and I’ll decided if you deserve to play with it.”
Steve shuffled to the coffee table, picking up the dildo, his mouth wrapped around the side of the toy like a dog with a bone. He brought it back to Billy.
He sat ramrod straight, looking up at Billy through his lashes. Billy set the dildo with the lube on the little side table.
Billy began stroking himself again.
“Open your mouth.” Steve’s doe eyes were wide as he opened his mouth, sticking his tongue out.
Billy grabbed the back of his hair, and slammed his face down onto his cock.
Steve choked when Billy hit the back of his throat. Billy pulled him off.
“You want me to fuck your face like that, Baby?” Didn’t want to get too rough, wanted to give him an out.
“Yes, Sir. Use my face. Use me.” Billy grinned, pushing Steve back onto his cock.
He guided him up and down, shoving Steve’s head down as far as he could. He could feel Steve relaxing around him, breathing deeply through his nose, keeping his throat open.
He moved his tongue expertly against the underside of him.
“How many cocks you had in this little whore mouth a’ yours? I bet lots. Such a slut.”
Steve whimpered against him. Billy tugged his hair to pull him off.
“Your ass feel as good as your mouth?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He took one moment admiring how red and swollen his lips were, shiny and slick with spit, a thread of saliva still connecting him to the head of Billy’s dick.
“Ask me to touch you. Beg for it.”
“Please, Sir. I want-I need you to touch me. I’ll do anything you want, Sir. I’ll make you feel so good, just please touch me, please.”
And they were the tears.
Billy’s gut roared as a few dripped down his cheeks, as his bottom lip trembled.
“Shh, Princess. So pretty when you beg.” He leaned back in the armchair, patting his lap.
Steve scrambled to sit on his lap, looking at Billy through his lashes. Billy wiped at his tears, sliding his hands down his body, digging his fingers into his soft hips.
“Ask me again.”
“Please touch me. I’ll make you feel so good. Let you do whatever you want.”
“‘Course you will.” He made a big show of slicking up a few of his fingers.  Steve’s breaths were short as he reached around him.
One finger went it easy, Steve’s body giving in to him.
“Such a perfect little cockslut. Sucking me in, so greedy.”
Steve melted against him, tucking his head in Billy’s neck.
“Feels so good, Sir.”
He curled his finger, gently brushing against Steve’s prostate, just teasing.
Steve pressed a soft kiss to his neck.
Billy pushed in another finger, pulling them apart, spreading Steve open.
He pressed them in deep, curling them, drilling the tips of his fingers into Steve’s prostate.
Steve keened and whined, his back arching, fucking himself back on Billy’s fingers.
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Being so good for me, Sugar.”
Billy crammed another finger inside him, Steve’s body fluttering around his digits.
“You want another one? Or do you want your toy?”
“Whatever you think I deserve, Sir.”
“Good answer, Slut.” Billy pulled out his fingers, slicking up the big pink dildo.
Billy lined up the dildo, using one hand to spread his cheeks open.
Steve’s back went stiff as he began to push the toy inside.
“Relax, Princess. Be good for me.” Steve was taking deep breaths, relaxing his body as the toy pushed inside, stretched him open.
He pushed the toy in as far as it would go, the flat base of it sitting flush against Steve ass.
Steve’s breaths were shaky.
“Did so good for me. Took your toy so nice. Does it feel good?”
“Feels so good, Sir. Thank you.” Billy pet over his ass, just left the toy shoved inside Steve.
And then he tugged on the base, began slowly fucking Steve with it.
Steve just took it, a pliant little mess in Billy’s lap His cock was hard and hot against Billy’s, smearing pre over both their stomachs.
“You wanna cum on your toy? Or do you want my cock?”
“Want, want your cock, Sir.”
“Do you deserve my cock?” He pushed the toy in a little harder, a little faster, making Steve gasp sharply.
“No, Sir. I don’t deserve anything.”
“No, you don’t, you little brat. You don’t deserve anything I give you.”
“I know I don’t, Sir. Thank you for giving it to me anyway!” Steve was writhing in his lap, Billy could tell he was close.
“Such a spoiled little Princess.”
“Yes! I’m so spoiled.” Billy was moving the dildo fast in and out of him, slick sounds and Steve’s moans filling the apartment.
“You gonna cum?”
“Yes!”
“Beg for it!”
“Please, Sir, I need to cum. I’m so close, please.”
Billy kept fucking him with the toy, leaning forward to speak right into his ear.
“Cum.”
Steve just about screamed when he came.
He covered the front of Billy’s shirt with his spunk, his hips stuttering and grinding, his back arching.
It was beautiful to watch, he fell apart so completely, his eyes squeezing closed.
Billy slowed his hand as Steve’s body relaxed, his chest heaving.
“Thank you.” His words were slurred together.
Billy pulled the toy out, made Steve gasp and whine.
“Gonna use you like the little toy you are.”
“Yes, Sir.” Steve was limp against him as Billy rolled on a condom, shifting Steve to seat him on his cock.
Billy leaned back against the armchair.
“Move.”
Steve blinked up at him.
“But,” his voice trailed off.
“Said I was gonna use you like a little toy. Means you’re gonna get me off.” Steve poked his bottom lip out a little. “Go ahead.”
His thighs were shaking as he lifted up, dropping back down onto Billy’s cock.
Billy was close, watching Steve fall apart had made him painfully hard.
Steve just kept fucking himself, his eyes hazy.
“Tighten up.” His muscles contracted around Billy. He kept going, taking sharp gasps every time Billy hit his prostate.
Billy reached down to play with his over sensitive cock.
“Sir, please-”
“I take what I want, Stevie.” Steve clamped his jaw shut, his bottom lip wobbling.
Billy so wanted him to cry.
“Faster.” He let out a little sob as he moved faster. “Faster.”
And Steve starting crying for real, his cock an angry red, hard again in Billy’s tight grip, his thighs shaking, his inner walls fluttering.
“You gonna cum for me again?”
“Don’t, don’t think I can.” Billy tightened his hold on his cock, jerking him fast.
“Cum, Princess. Wanna see it.”
He sobbed out, his sore cock giving a valiant kick some cum spurting onto Billy’s hand.
Billy bucked his hips, spilling out into the condom, breathing heavy.
He lifted Steve to pull out of him, uncuffing his hands.
“How you doin’?” Steve took a few deep breaths, wrapping his arms around Billy’s shoulders.
“Real good.”
“Everything okay?”
“Everything was fucking great.” Billy laughed, rubbing up and down Steve’s back. He checked his watch.
“We still have an hour, if you wanna cuddle. We could go to bed.” Steve nuzzled into his shoulder.
“I’d like that.” Billy took off the condom, tucking his cock back in his jeans.
He shuffled Steve about, lifting him up as he stood.
He dumped the condom in the trash on his way to the bedroom, putting Steve softly on his bed.
He took off his clothes, sliding under the covers to tangle around Steve.
“That was a good scene.”
“Yeah? I do okay?”
“Yeah, first timer. Did real okay.” Billy huffed a laugh. Steve took a shaky breath. “We could do it again sometime. If you wanted. I’d give you a uh, discounted price.”
“How good of a discount we talkin’?”
“Buy me dinner, get a free session.”
“I think that sounds like a good deal.” Steve smiled up at him. Snuggled a little closer.
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Text
Read Into Me Chapter Two: The Importance of Being Earnest
Steve Harrington x Reader
Catch up on the series HERE
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Word Count: 2,030
Warnings: Swearing, death illusion
Author’s Note: This chapter is a bit shorter than I’d like, but I promise that the next one is longer! Also, some of the tags aren’t working for some users, so I’m so sorry if you aren’t getting notifications for this series! If you know how to fix this lemme know!
Tags: @divinity-deos @thecaptainsgingersnap​  @wolfish-willow @scoopsohboi @herre-gud-nej​ @clockworkballerina​ @maddie1504​ @i-am-trash-so-much-its-scary​ @banjino-in-the-whole @buckysarge​ @wildcvltre​ @stanleyyelnatsiii​ @t0rment0 @10blurredsmoke10 @unussuallchild10 @n3wtscaseofniffler5​ @alwaysstressedout @peterparxour @linkispink1995​ @asharpknife @a-big-ball-of-idk​ @used-avocado​ @mochminnie​ @sledgy14​ @lilmissperfectlyimperfect​
Steve was so very fucked. He’d been sat at his desk since he got home from school and could not think of a single fucking thing to write. He’d had his notebook open, his typewriter loaded with paper, pen uncapped and waiting to be used, and the most work he’d done was chew on its blue cap. He just couldn’t think.
Writing was not his thing. Reading was not his thing. School was not his thing. He had lines of trophies on his nearly empty shelf-swim meet, track and field, basketball, and baseball for one summer in fifth grade. He could understand how to play a sport. That was competitive, improvisational, and had a core outcome-you won, lost, or tied. The same three outcomes with a million ways to do it, a million variables to get in the way. Math and science were the same, he could swing Cs and Bs in those classes, but English was the opposite. There were too many opinions. Too many options. When he managed to read one of the assigned books for class and not merely the Cliff’s Notes, he found he had nothing to say about it. Everything the author said felt true, even when his teachers were telling him to look for specific things in the narrative. Sure, if someone told him that the conch shell in Lord of the Flies meant something, but if you asked him what he wouldn’t know. And he would believe you if you said that the conch shell didn’t mean anything. His essays were all crap.
He thought about calling Nancy. Nancy would know exactly how to help him, she always did. But Nancy was with Jonathan now and he wasn’t confident that they were still friends at all. If they were ever friends. He didn’t think that they were. They weren’t really friends before they dated. Still, his hand hovered over the egg shell white rotary phone on his desk, a gift from his eleventh birthday. He lifted the phone off its hook, dialling the number off by heart. It took three rings for someone to pick up.
“Eleven?” Mike Wheeler’s frantic voice came through the other end. Steve couldn’t help but roll his eyes, the boy was far too attached to that girl, it was honestly concerning.
“Nah dude it’s Steve, your sister around?” he asked, leaning back in his chair.
“She’s out with Jonathan.” Mike’s voice dropped into one of boredom. “You know, her boyfriend?” he was such a little shit sometimes.
“Yeah, I know dipshit, you wanna tell her I called when she gets back?” Steve huffed back.
“If I remember.” With that, the call went dead. Steve groaned, rolling his eyes as he slammed the receiver back onto the hook. What a fucking waste of time. He’d never hear back now, that kid didn’t like him from the start and would do whatever he could to keep them from being friends.
What was to be done now? He didn’t have anything to say about his spring break! Mr. Lawrence was a bastard for even asking him to write about it. Nothing happened! His parents went to Miami Beach to rekindle their marriage for the hundredth time and left Steve at home alone. He tried to throw a party but almost got busted by the cops with a fake ID at the Pick n’ Save and Tommy’s brother wouldn’t give them any weed to supplement what would’ve been a pretty dry party. He cancelled the party after that and sat at home alone. Nothing much to tell about and definitely wouldn’t fill a page, even if he used the longest words he knew.
Steve stood from his desk, looking through his shelf till he found the heavy yellow pages he’d put on the bottom of his shelf to weigh the sucker down so it wouldn’t fall over as fast. He flipped it open, searching through the numbers till he found what he was looking for, lifting the receiver off its hook again.
Across the street, you were sprawled out on your rose printed bedspread, your head in your hands with Samantha sat on your desk chair, laughing at your pain. “You know it’s not that bad, right? You could’ve gotten stuck with someone way worse.” She said, mindlessly digging through the black jewellery box sat dusty in the corner of your desk. Your mother had sent it from Spain and had filled it with different things she found across Europe. You didn’t care much for the stuff yourself but you kept it on your desk to show that you used it, not that she was ever home to seemed to notice.
Your bedroom was clean and stark white. It used to be pink, to match the rest of your white iron rod and pink padded furniture. You didn’t like the pink that much, and you didn’t adore the white, but you could hide it behind the art you tacked to the wall. Every portrait, still life, and landscape painting you’d been proud of hung proudly in your home gallery. You’d done recreations of your favourite album covers, and splatter art with balloons, and a few charcoal drawings of your grandparents and your father. You’d painted clouds and stars on your ceiling when you were in middle school, and while they had a lot of room for improvement, you left them above your head as a comfort to you. Your father had helped you scrape the popcorn ceiling down flat and helped paint the ceiling sky blue. It was your last project together.
“Oh yeah totally…” you said through your hands, refusing to look at her, focusing instead on the yellow sun spots floating under your eyelids.
“I mean, you could’ve gotten stuck with Tracy Lords again, she’s in that class.” Samantha replied easily, pulling out a green sea glass bangle from the top drawer, running her fingers over the red velvet interior of the box. Tracy Lords was a menace to productivity, at least she was according to Samantha. They had issues, which meant that you did too by association, but she’d done nothing to you except glare and pop her gum at you.
“At least she does her work!” you sat up, letting your feet dangle over your bed. “I don’t think he’s ever done his work on time, he’s always late with stuff!”
“That’s not your problem; as long as you do your work then Lawrence won’t care.” She flashed the bangle in front of your face “You should wear this more it’s nice.”
You shrugged “You can have it if you want.” You didn’t really care about what your mother sent you, it didn’t change the fact that she didn’t care enough about you to be home for more than a month out of the year. Besides, where on earth were you supposed to wear any of it? Your mother loved to spend your father’s riches on random, useless crap and you hated the idea of showing off the money your father died for. It wasn’t anything to brag about.
“Nah, not my style, it won’t match any of my stuff.” She put the bracelet back, closing the box with a metallic thump. “But anyway, you’ll be fine. Steve’s completely harmless.” You weren’t exactly sure if you believed her.
The phone on your desk blared loudly. You begrudgingly jumped off the bed, pulling it off the hook. Your grandmother was still at the hair salon and if you didn’t answer, one of her little friends from the old folk’s home might think that she died again.
“Hello?” you asked, motioning for Samantha to move over a bit, closing your white curtains closed again, your eyes scanning the streets with a bored expression.
“Hey is this Y/N?” Steve asked cautiously. He couldn’t quite remember your voice but he had double checked your last name in the year book and the phone book.
“Yeah, who is this?” dread filled your stomach the second he spoke, you were hoping against hope that it wasn’t Steve. You could see him pacing his window from across the street.
“Hey it’s Steve from English?” Fucking hell. You wanted to slam the damn receiver onto its hook. But if you did that, Samantha would think that you were crazy and you didn’t want to seem like such a baby.
“Oh hey what’s up?” you asked cautiously. Samantha was pulling at your sleeve, mouthing ‘Who is it?’ at you. You pulled your arm away, pushing her chair away from you with your foot.
“Oh nothing much, I was just wondering how your paper’s going?” Steve didn’t really know why he called you, he wasn’t certain that you’d even help him if he asked. He hardly knew you, he couldn’t name two things about you. But you seemed smart, you could be of some help if he had the balls to ask for it.
“Oh um…it’s fine. How’s yours going?” your hand came to the back of your neck, rubbing it awkwardly. You wanted to run away, to utterly disappear into another dimension. You didn’t like strangers, especially the whole small talk part. You didn’t feel like you had anything interesting to say about yourself and you hated silence. Your mind just didn’t come up with questions to ask.
Steve’s face burned. He couldn’t admit that he was stupid now; he was hoping that he wasn’t the only idiot in the class. “Oh um it’s good! I’m almost done.” He said, mentally cursing himself for saying that he was anywhere near finished.
“Oh cool. Do-do you want to switch them off tomorrow?” Now you had no idea what this phone call was even about. In the back of your mind, you assumed that he just had a question about the essay, but now you had nothing to grab onto.
“Yeah sure, that works for me.” He said, looking to his empty paper.  He was so totally screwed now. He couldn’t admit that he was an idiot to you, not when you already had everything so clearly understood. You spoke so confidently, it made him feel small and pointless.
“Okay…I’ll see you in class then.” You said. Steve bid an awkward goodbye and you both hung up unsure what the hell had just happened.
Samantha was on her feet, jumping on your mattress “Did Steve Harrington just call you?!?” she cried, following it was it a giddy scream. You hushed her, rolling your eyes.
“It’s nothing to freak out about, you weirdo!” you countered, turning to face her fully with a sullen expression. Your heart was still pounding hard in your chest, adrenalin pumping through your veins.
Samantha landed on her knees, looking up at you incredulously “What? He’s cool! That’s cool! Boys never call you!”
“Way to rub that one in.” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. Talking to people wasn’t your strong suit, and while for the most part you were okay with not having many friends, you lack of experience with relationships made you very insecure. “You crushed one of your spikes on my ceiling.”
Samantha reached up and touched each individual black spike with the tips of her finger, finding the dented one at the top of her head. “It’s true! God, I’ve got more guys calling me and I’m a lesbian.” She lowered her voice at the mention of her sexuality. You both knew that your grandparents wouldn’t be kind to her if they knew, their homophobia a mark of their small mindedness.
“Yeah, well, the guys at this school are all idiots.” You looked back to your paper, pulling your red pen out from behind your ear and crossing out a word on your essay.
“You didn’t think Jonathan Byers was an idiot.” Samantha replied. You cheeks flashed cherry red. It wasn’t fair of her to even mention him. He was a dickhead and Samantha knew it.
“Yeah, well now I know that he’s just as big of an idiot as everyone else is.” You muttered, pulling your desk chair over and taking a seat once again.  You didn’t have the time for stupid boys, anyways. You had work to do.
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stylesluxx · 4 years
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cold? chilling? freezing? (VI) – s.rogers
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[warnings: fury getting shot but that’s it I think]
summary: in which y/n is an assassin turned lover | part five | part seven
word count: 1,758
masterlist
You didn't go straight back to the apartment after you visited the Smithsonian. You remembered it was your night to cook so you spent the afternoon in the grocery store.
You never had to cook until you lived with the super-soldier. You loved takeout but he complained about it after a week. Something about wanting a real home-cooked meal. He cooked for the first month before you ended up getting food poisoning because honestly, he's horrible at cooking. Then you tried to take over and come to find out you too were a horrible chef.
So, every Saturday night you and Steve went to cooking classes and tried to get a hang of it. You started to buy pots and pans and baking sheets. You wouldn't say you were Gordan Ramsey or anything but you were 10 times better of a cook than you were two years ago.
When you got back to the apartment, Steve had just opened the door to the building and smiled when he spotted you. He reached and held the door so it wouldn't close on you before shutting it softly behind you. You looked at the stairs in front of you and sighed before beginning the journey up.
"How was the rest of your afternoon, Captain?" You asked as he took the bags from your hands.
"It was... enlightening. I met with Sam, the guy from the park. He has a support group for veterans," Steve nodded thoughtfully.
"Maybe you should attend that as well. The missions might start to become a bit much after a while. And it'll help you adapt better," You suggested and looked up at him as we walked beside you.
"And what about you?"
"I, uh, Director Fury has already set me up with the therapist. Agent Romanoff recommended it and I respect her advice. We're more similar than I originally thought," You hesitantly spoke, not wanting to divulge too much. "Did you see Miss Carter today?"
"Yeah, I did."
"And how was that?"
"It was good. She thinks I put too much pressure on myself."
"I agree with her, one hundred percent."
"I feel like you've been attacking me ever since you walked in the building," He teased with a light smile on his face, making you laugh.
"Well, get your shit together Rogers," You smiled at him and walked up the last step.
You spotted the blonde woman opening her door and you turned back to give Steve a wink.
"Good evening," You greeted her with a smile and wave.
She was on the phone and had a laundry basket in her hand as she tried to open to door to her apartment. She gave you and Steve smiles before finishing up her phone call and turning to you and Steve.
"My aunt, she's kind of an insomniac," She waved her phone before tossing it in the basket.
It was silent for a moment before you decided to speak up and help Steve out.
"Hey, if you want, you're welcome to use our machine. Might be cheaper than the one in the basement and you won't have to walk up and down all those stairs," You suggested. "And while it dries you and my friend here can maybe go out for coffee."
Steve looked back at you wide-eyed and full of shock before turning back to the blonde with a chivalrous smile.
"Thank you, but I already have a load in downstairs, and uh you really don't want my scrubs in your machine. I just finished a rotation in the infectious disease ward, so..." She softly declined, making you scratch the back of your head awkwardly.
"Well, I'll keep my distance," Steve played off the rejection with a light chuckle.
"Hopefully, not too far," She said slyly before turning to walk downstairs. She quickly turned back around as you got the keys out of your backpack. "Oh, and I think you left your stereo on."
"Oh, thank you," Steve said and turned to look at you once she walked away. At that instant, you both heard the 40s music playing for the record player.
"First of all, it seems like she's kinda into you," You started as you stuck the key in the lock. "And secondly, I didn't leave the stereo on. Didn't even touch it."
"You stay here with the groceries. I'll come open the door when the coast is clear," Steve said and set the bags down beside you and quietly retreated down the steps.
Two years ago you would've walked in with the keys in between your knuckles. You don't know why you listened to Steve, he wasn't necessarily Captain right now and you weren't on a mission. But you listened to him. Your gut told you to listen and to trust him.
You waited for all about five minutes before the front door opened and Steve had his shield in his hand. You surveyed him for any injuries before letting the keys fall from your knuckles. You walked in and set the groceries down on the kitchen counter.
You followed him to the living room and leaned against the wall, your arms crossed over your chest.
"I don't remember giving you a key," You said to Fury as he sat comfortably in your favorite chair.
You liked to sit there during the day while reading a book. You get to see Steve as soon as he walks in and he sees you instantly as well. It was a nice way to start the afternoon.
"You really think I'd need one?" He asked, sitting up. "My wife kicked me out."
"Didn't know you were married," Steve spoke up.
"There's a lot of things you don't know about me."
"I know, Nick. That's the problem."
Steve walked over and turned the overhead light on and we both got a good look at the man in front of us. He was bloodied and bruised, an unusual sight.
Fury put up a hand to still us and reached up and turned the lamp that was next to him off.
He typed in his phone before showing us. It read "EARS EVERYWHERE." I looked over at Steve before walking a few steps closer to him.
"I'm sorry I had to do this but I have no place else to crash."
Steve looked around the room, trying to spot anything out of place or abnormal.
Fury typed on his phone again before showing us a new message, "SHIELD COMPROMISED."
"Who else knows about your wife?" You asked and watched Fury stand up, holding his side.
"Just us three," He said and showed us the phone with the exactly same words. "My friends."
"Is that what we are?" Steve asked hostilely.
"That's up to you," Fury said before screaming in pain and buckling to his knees.
Steve dragged his body from the living room to the kitchen and you pulled out your gun from its place in your holster.
You heard Fury cough out "don't trust anyone" as soon as the front door was kicked down and revealed the blonde "nurse" with a gun in her hand.
"Captain Rogers? Agent Y/L/N? I'm Agent 13 of S.H.I.E.L.D. Special Service," She said calmly. "I was assigned to protect you."
You looked back at Steve and gave him a look before turning back to her.
"On whose order?" Steve asked.
"His," She said and got on her knees to check Fury's pulse.
Steve looked at her dumbfounded but you couldn't believe you were right about her.
She spoke into her walkie talkie and you turned to look in the direction the previous bullets came from.
"Tell him I'm in pursuit," Steve said. He walked backward to get a head start before running and jumping through two windows to chase the shooter.
Sharon gave you an address to where Fury would be taken. Some hospital in the middle of the city which made you look at her weird. Fury was way too private to be taken care of at a public facility but you went along with it.
You ran downstairs and to Steve's bike where you knew he'd meet you. You put the gun back and grabbed his helmet (though it was really yours because he never used it). You put it on and secured it as you saw him running to you.He got on the bike and you followed his lead, wrapping your arms around his waist. He wasted no time speeding off when you told him the address.
"Tell me about the shooter," You asked of Steve so you could distract yourself from your boss laying on the operation table.
"He's fast. Strong. Had a metal arm."
Maria Hill walked next to you and looked at Fury.
"Ballistics?" You questioned.
"Three slugs, no rifling. Completely untraceable," She answered.
"Soviet-made."
"Yeah," She said shocked and looked over at you before turning back to the operation table.
You watched emotionless as the doctors and nurses tried to revive Fury but to no avail. Emotionless only because you weren't in the room by yourself. You didn't know Fury too well, no one did, but he (and Romanoff) helped you believe that therapy was a valid option and it was okay to go.
Steve was the first to walk out and then Agent Hill. You stood there for a moment to ensure you were completely alone before letting a small tear fall. You let it hit your Iron Man shirt before you wiped the wetness off your cheek and walked out of the room.
You spotted Steve not too far away and looked over at him. You walked over slowly and watched his eyes take you in, looking for any sign of distress. He found the wet spot on your shirt and gave you a sad smile.
"It'll be alright, Y/N," He assured you while looking right in your eyes, relaxing you.
You nodded, "I know, Captain."
"Cap, Y/L/N, they want you back at S.H.I.E.L.D.," You heard Agent Rumlow's voice disturb the moment.
"Yeah give us a second," Steve nodded.
"They want you now."
"Okay," Steve nodded again, this time with more force.
Rumlow walked off and you followed behind him while Steve stayed back. It seemed like he was having trouble with the vending machine but you ignored it and listened to the radios the S.T.R.I.K.E. team had. They wanted to question you and Steve.
The ride to headquarters was quiet. You rested your head on Steve's shoulder and his arm was wrapped around yours, holding onto you tight.
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[AN: so this series is gonna be longer than I originally planned but not too much longer. and I’m super sorry this too so long to post, it was my birthday week so I was super busy. I think I’m putting this on hiatus; I don’t feel motivated to write it anymore]
[tags: @thisartemisnevermisses​ @thatoneperson5000​ @capstopavenger​]
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loquaciousquark · 4 years
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Cut for talk of COVID and irresponsible failure to social distance (my own). Also, some updates on what’s been going on here for the last month or so.
part one:
Very very long story that I am truncating as much as possible. As you all know, I am an optometrist and professor. When we shut down in March, our university made a huge, painful shift to remote learning and our student clinic ceased operations altogether. Neither students nor faculty saw patients from March 15 - the the middle of May. At the end of May, faculty began seeing patients directly in an extremely reduced schedule, and at the beginning of June, we began adding in very limited numbers of students in a rolling schedule that minimized exposure to all involved.
Three weeks ago, my dear friend Jasper contacted me and said that an old friend of hers, whom I will call Carol, was in dire straits after losing her job overseas. Carol has an extremely rocky history: a terrible car accident that left her legs and feet permanently damaged which directly led to a very bad divorce, significant student loan debt (just shy of six digits I think, compounded from the accident, since she used her student loans to pay her medical bills--for anyone reading this, do not EVER EVER EVER DO THIS--student loans are never touched by bankruptcy declarations and you will owe them until you die), and something of an inability to put down roots. She is an English teacher who has taught and traveled all over the world: Prague, Bahrain, Czech Republic, Los Angeles, Rio, etc.
When I first met her about ten years ago, she had come back to Alabama from Prague because a job had fallen through. She was completely broke and living out of two suitcases and a carry-on. She lived with us for three months for free, sleeping in Jasper’s bed because we had no other room for her, and eventually got a job in Boston and moved on. She lasted--I think--about two months in Boston before quitting and taking a job in the Middle East.
On top of her student loan debt, Carol also has significant IRS debt and is in debt to several of her friends. Over the last few years, she took several ill-advised positions overseas back to back without ever consulting a lawyer on her contracts, and did not realize until recently that one of her positions classified her as an independent contractor instead of an employee, so she owed US taxes on all her income for that period of time. Her most recent job in Prague she lost in February because she filed her visa (again, without a lawyer) incorrectly, and what should have been a brief three-week stay outside of the country became a six week stay on the couch of strangers in the Czech Republic while she waited for her visa reapplication to process. However, it was denied, and then COVID hit, and she returned to Alabama with only a portion of her possessions and tons of important paperwork left behind in her Prague apartment. She then unfortunately had two emergency surgeries on her stomach for an acute, unpredictable medical issue, and while she is well healing now, it also added on another forty thousand dollars of medical debt to what she already owed.
She stayed with her mother and sister while she was recovering from the emergency surgeries, but her family is emotionally abusive and very unkind to her, and after a few weeks she left their home and went to stay with Jasper. However, Jasper is also 8 months pregnant with her fourth child, and they both knew it was a temporary thing. Jasper knows that I have a large home with several spare bedrooms, and asked if I would be willing to host Carol for a period of time while she got back on her feet. I knew what I was agreeing to when I said yes, and Carol and I settled on a period of two months. She has now been here almost three weeks.
Frankly, I do not like Carol very much. We are unbelievably different people in every way--personality, temperament, proclivity to crying in front of other people, hobbies, interests, religion, all of it. She is a very nice person, and I think she truly does mean well. But she is the most emotionally needy and energy-sapping person I have ever met, and I cannot tolerate her company in more than small chunks. It is not possible to hold a conversation with her about any subject tangentially related to her difficulties; if I try to sympathize with her loans by mentioning my own, she shuts me down by saying at least I will have the chance to ever pay them back. If I just try to listen without commentary, she’ll wrap herself up in her own stories and talk for hours without ever needing more than “mm”s and “hm”s and my undivided attention the entire time.
She will often work herself up into sobbing tears over her situation(s), and she always informs me immediately of any new development in any of her numerous trials: which are usually negative, considering the situation, and usually resulting in more tears. She has cried on me probably more than a dozen times since she moved in, and she wields “I love you” like a weapon, more to hear the validation of the response than to truly express the sentiment. She constantly asks for advice on her situation but does not listen to any of it--seems more to just want to relive each tragic detail of her life over and over again with an audience, wondering why she’s continually “screwed over in her life.” (Really, really poor financial decisions and constantly trusting her own “intuition” over getting competent legal advice before signing contracts, are I think the biggest contributors.) She has told me so many private details about her personal views, relationships with her ex-husband and mother and sister, her financial choices, and her extensive travel and job history over the last few years that I probably know her history better than my own at this point.
I think she thinks by sharing so much that she is justifying to me her need to stay with me. What is actually happening is that I am forced to help shoulder this enormous emotional load that compounds my own mental health problems I’ve been having since all this started. I have told her more than once that she does not need to justify herself to me and that my home is open to her for two months, no strings attached. I believe she is making all the steps she needs to and do not need reports on her daily activities to “pay” for her lodging or electricity or internet or whatever. This has changed the behavior a little for the better but not stopped it.
There are moments that are not bad. As I have mentioned, she does mean well and want well for most people. She likes Hamlet and loves Jasper, who is extremely important to me. But she is extremely difficult to be around in so many other ways, and the way she constantly exclaims over how we basically think alike on all things (absolutely untrue) makes me think she either will not or cannot read my reluctance to engage on any of these topics.
(An example: I was watching footage of the SpaceX launch and despite my feelings on Elon Musk, really excited about the implications for space travel. She came in, and after misunderstanding for some time that I was not watching Space Force with Steve Carell, decided that the SpaceX program was morally bankrupt, obviously borne of shady backroom government deals, and everyone involved should have used the money to solve world hunger instead. For the record, she had not heard of the shuttle launch, SpaceX, or Elon Musk at all before the seeing the footage.)
(She also until last week had not heard of Playstation, Xbox, streaming as a concept, or any game more modern than the original Mario. Trying to order a grocery delivery online was an excruciating torment for her [took her over four days to get through selecting the items, selecting allowable replacements, and actually paying] and I will not ask her to do it again. She frequently makes comments about video games being a waste of time, and when she sees children playing outside, comments on how glad she is they are not inside playing video games. She doesn’t seem to realize her comments are a direct commentary on me; I think she genuinely does not understand that those games are what I am playing most of my free time.)
Right now, everything seems to hinge on her passing some teacher recertification tests next week and the week after. She spent $150 to give herself less than a week to study from scratch for a test she described as the hardest she’d ever taken. There were several other dates later in the summer she could have chosen, and her deadline is December, but she picked the soonest option for reasons I can’t fathom. She is also in the process of trying to get a car--right now I’m driving her everywhere--and she was ready to hand over $3800 yesterday for a ten-year-old Hyundai with a check-engine light on without even thinking of getting any kind of inspection. She is far more concerned with the color and “energy” of the car than its function, and would not have even checked the headlights and blinkers if I hadn’t prompted it.
She will be here another five weeks or so. We move around each other now better than we did before, and I hope it will continue to improve. But it’s a lot like a rock grinding a groove in the streambed from the repetitive friction, and it’s not the struggle I wanted to be having right now.
part two:
As I mentioned above, Jasper is having her fourth child in a month or so. One of her friends, someone I don’t know, contacted me and said she wanted to do a drive-by “baby sprinkle,” where no one gets out of their cars. You drop off the gifts, talk to the recipient a few minutes from the car window, and move on. I told her that I work in health care and am exposed to patients, so that sounded good to me.
The shower was this morning. Carol and I got up and drove the thirty minutes to Jasper’s house. There were four other families in cars right around the corner, and the “hostess” gave us all balloons to tie on our side mirrors. She told us we would drive around the corner, drop off the gifts, and loop around. Jasper’s husband would arrange for her to be in the front yard at the right time.
Cute enough. We go around the corner with little honks and Jasper sees us and starts crying, and it’s all wonderful and emotional and a fabulous surprise and I’m genuinely excited about it. And then people start parking and getting out of their cars, and Carol and I start looking at each other. They’re full families, too--three of the other moms brought all their kids, and soon enough they’re playing with Jasper’s three boys in the front yard and coming up asking to pet Hamlet through the car window. No one was wearing masks.
And what’s worse, when they all started looking at us expectantly through the car window, we didn’t know what to do. They were handing Jasper her gifts and obviously settling in for a good long chat; the women were hugging, talking about how they are “so over this COVID stuff, please come visit soon,” and Hamlet of course recognizes his original owners in Jasper and her husband so he’s freaking out, and after a few moments, we decided to just get out of the car.
It was the first time I really felt the social pressure to participate in an event I wasn’t comfortable with. I have no issue maintaining my social distance and my mask and my handwashing at work because that is where I have the position of authority, and I have the responsibility to model it for the students and patients--but here, I was a guest at someone else’s house at someone else’s event, and I really, really felt how they might perceive me as rude. While I didn’t know the other women, my relationship with Jasper is extremely important to me, and I didn’t want to make this special event for her difficult in any way.
So we got out of the car and joined the group. I tried to keep my distance as much as possible, especially since I had Hamlet on the leash and there were a half-dozen small children around, but at least twice I looked up and there was someone right at my elbow, and we made small talk for five minutes or so before either she drifted back to the group or I moved Hamlet into the shade away from the rest.
Cars drove by and slowed down more than once to look at us. Jasper’s husband made a comment about rolling his eyes if he saw their family on Facebook that evening. The women planned play dates, all standing very close together, and Jasper opened her gifts (that part was excellent). All in all we were probably there about twenty minutes. 
I should mention that on the drive there, we passed a public park that has a very pretty waterfall right next to the road, and there were probably a dozen families out playing. There was a festival/outdoor market right outside the the park that had a sign up about social distancing, but the fifty or so people we saw shopping there were not adhering in any meaningful way. No one wore a mask.
And what annoys the bejeezus out of me is that I didn’t either. I didn’t even think about it until after we finally got back in the car to drive away. This is the first social event I’ve gone to since the first week of March, and while I wear masks for eight+ hours every day I go in to work, it didn’t occur to me even a single time to put on even my little cloth one that I keep in the car until we were driving away afterwards. I was so flummoxed by every little thing happening differently than I expected--people getting out of cars, how surprised I was by my own susceptibility to not rocking the boat, how normal everyone else made it to stand so close they could bump elbows so that Carol and I became almost excluded from the circle--that it never once crossed my mind. I know masks are more for the protection of those around you, not to keep you from catching what other people are carrying, but I could have set an example. I could have been the health professional I should have been in the moment.
I’m just so disappointed in myself. Disappointed in my own carelessness, irritated that I didn’t say anything, continually frustrated in a deep, gut-wrenching way by the whole situation that requires this in the first place. Bewildered that so many people are “back to normal” while this thing is still spreading, and in brutal honesty wishing I could be like them and just give up the fight myself. I’m not even mad at them. I WANT TO BE THEM. Why am I continually bothering to care and sanitize and mask and stay at home when no one else is? Literally no one would judge me in this state for it more than I’m already being judged (in most cases impersonally, though I felt the potential for it today in specific) for still watching the recommended guidelines.
I am really, really sick of this. I am so sick of feeling alone in this (of being alone in this, and Carol doesn’t count). Hearing other people saying “there there, you’re doing the right thing” honestly makes it even worse. I want people to stop patronizingly telling me to do things I already know are the right thing to do. I want other people as mad as I am that I can’t do the things I want to and need to do instead of being endlessly patient and noble about all the lives they’re saving by staying home. I’m top-of-my-head-blowing-off furious that so many people are shrugging and saying “well this is just the way it will be forever and alas, so it goes” and acting like those of us who did the right thing and cancelled our plans and our trips and our visits to dear friends but who are mad about having to do it are overreacting. I’m so fucking mad about it. I’ve stayed home for two months and I’ve isolated and I’ve quarantined and my hands are cracking from the constant sanitizer/washing at work and except for today I’ve done everything I’m supposed to do for this, and I don’t want to do it. And seeing people be so heroically virtuous and longsuffering on Facebook feels as alien and upsetting to me as the people who go to the beaches with a hundred of their closest friends.
That’s probably unfair in myriad ways. I’m really too angry, including at myelf, to soften it right now.
I want a vaccine and I want to be back in my classroom teaching to fifty faces instead of a screen in my living room, and I’m honestly freaking sick of waiting at home for them to figure this out. And watching everyone else move on with their lives back to the normal I would kill to have is just one more crack in the dike.
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Can’t Fight This Feeling
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I was up on the roof of the mall with Dustin, watching the loading dock again. At least it wasn't pissing down rain this time.
"What do you think?" he asked me, with his binoculars up to his face.
I bit my lip and shrugged, "I really don't know," I admitted.
"I dont even think these guys take breaks or anything. I think it's the same guy from last night," Dustin mentioned, I nodded in agreement looking down at the guard with the large gun.
"Look!" Dustin exclaimed, "he's using a keycard to get in! We need to get a keycard!"
"How do you think we're gonna get his keycard?" I asked.
Dustin looked over to me quickly before looking back into his binoculars, "I'm not sure...we'll have to figure it out with Steve and Robin."
I sighed, "We've just got to do it the way Steve said, fast. We just have to get in the room check the boxes and get out quick," I said, turning away from the dock and leaning against the roof ledge.
Dustin turned and leaned against it too, "When did Steve say that?"
"When he was driving me home this morning," I explained.
I looked over to him and saw his little smirk, I flicked his arm but it only made him laugh.
"What?" I asked.
He shook his head, "So Steve isn't too bad all of a sudden then?"
I rolled my eyes and stood up, making sure to keep myself low, "What's that supposed to mean?" I asked as I began walking to the door.
"I'm just saying that all of a sudden he's driving you home and you're talking like regular people, and don't for a second think I didn't catch you two holding hands last night," he said as we made our way down the stairs.
"I'm kinda out of options, Dust," I tried explaining it away, "we're dropped in this situation together. I dont have a choice except for being friendly with him. As far as the hand holding, I was freaked out last night," I reasoned, "he was trying to help me calm down."
I looked down at him as we walked down the hallway, he looked up at me quickly before shaking his head.
"I'm just saying that you two seem to be getting along and it's...nice," he told me.
I smirked and walked further down the hall so get to the backroom of Scoops Ahoy, "Nice?"
He smiled widely at me, "I didnt think you'd like it if I said how awesome it was that my big sister and one of my best friends was getting along so well."
I snorted and rolled my eyes as we got to the backdoor, "Whatever you say, Dusty."
I opened the door and smiled at the two sailors in front of me, sitting at the table.
Steve and Robin were sitting on the same side of the table, Steve stood up quickly and took a seat on the other side. I went to site next to Robin but Dustin slid in between me and the chair and sat down first.
"Rude," I scoffed.
He shrugged, "First come first serve."
I lightly smacked the back of my brothers head before taking the seat next to Steve.
"Alright, fill em in," I instructed my brother.
He told them the little information we gathered, the only important note was really about the keycard.
"That keycard opens the door, but unfortunately the Russian with this keycard also has a massive gun. Whatever's in this room whatever's in those boxes, they really don't want anyone finding it."
Robin shook her head slightly, "There's gotta be a way in," she said, looking down at the table.
Steve blew into his sailor hat to puff the top back out before tossing it gently on the table, "Well...you know," he began as he leaned on the table, "I could just take him out."
"Take who out?" Robin and I said at the same time.
"The Russian guard," he answered looking between Robin and I.
I smiled and looked away from him, Robin was mockingly nodding her head with pursed lips.
"Steve, have you ever actually won a fight?" Dustin asked bluntly.
I looked over to Steve and saw his face drop, "Okay that was one time," he said leaning back in his chair.
"Twice. Jonathan the year prior," Dustin stated matter of factly.
My eyes widened slightly for only a moment remembering when Jonathan told me about the fight after finding what Steve wrote about Nancy at the movie theatre.
Remembering he did that made my stomach turn. Steve's eyes went from Dustin to me back to Dustin.
"I didn't," he sighed, "I didnt write that about Nancy. It was Tommy and Carole...do you think if I did write it Nancy and I would've stayed together?"
Dustin shrugged and I felt a weight being lifted off my chest. At least he says he didn't write it. I can take that off the list of why I've hated Steve for years.
"Regardless," Dustin interjected raising his hand, "Jonathan still beat the shit outta you."
Steve scoffed, "Yeah but that doesn't count."
"Yes it does," Dustin continued on.
Steve and Dustin began their debate back and forth as I rolled my eyes. I looked over to Robin and she was looking back at me and shaking her head.
The two continued their little argument and I began aimlessly looking around the room. The sharp intake of breath from Robin brought my eyes back to her.
"The vents," she mouthed to me, the second I focused back on her.
My eyes widened, "The vents," I echoed with a nod.
We both stood up and went to the front of the shop where Robin dug her hand into the tip chair, grabbing all the bills at once. We were gonna need money where we were going.
"Hey, half of that is mine!" Steve cried out from behind us.
"I don't have my bike," I told her once I saw her bike helmet with her backpack.
She sharply took a breath and began looking around, "Bus will take too long."
I looked over to Steve and smiled, "Steve?"
He looked to me, still confused over Robin taking the tips, "Lou?"
I took a step towards him, "Can I please use your car? I'll drive super slow and super carefully. I'll put gas in it! I've been driving for over two years so I'm a really care-"
"Of course, heres my keys," he said, effectively cutting me off as he held his keys out to me.
I grinned and walked towards him, I picked his abandoned Scoops hat off the counter and brought it up to his head and placed it on there before taking the keys from his hand.
"Thanks, Steve," I said quietly.
He smiled at me and nodded, "Anytime."
I grinned and turned back to Robin, dangling the keys in front of me, "Lets go!"
She smiled and we walked quickly out of the shop, "Where are you guys going?" Dustin called.
We turned to face them, "Trying to find a way in!" I explained, "A safe way!"
"Yeah so in the meantime, sling ice cream, behave, and don't get beat up! We'll be back in a jif!" she said with a salute.
"And please don't let Dusty pick up any more transmissions!" I said with a smile before running after Robin.
We ran right to his car and hopped in. As promised, I drove slowly so I wouldn't damage his car, because that all I would need added onto this insane past few days.
Robin and I got to the County Recorders office and ran up the steps, we figured out where we were going, spoke to the lady at the desk and she went to get us copies of the malls blueprints and ventilation system.
"That's was nice of Steve to let us use the car," Robin mentioned.
I looked back at her and nodded, "Yeah...at least one of us has a car."
"It was really cute the way he just melted when you thanked him," she said batting her eyelashes at me.
I chuckled and pushed her shoulder, "It wasn't like that," I told her.
"Then what was it like?" she wondered.
I rolled my eyes but kept the small smile, "He's helping out the group."
She smirked, "And how is this all helping with the sixth grade crush you had on him?"
I leaned my back against the chair I was sitting in, "It's...fine."
She barked out a laugh and leaned forward, looking at my red face, "Fine? The way you guys keep looking at each other all googly eyed I'd think you both would have at least, admitted you like each other."
"What?" I scoffed, "I'm looking at it this way, Steve and I are tossed into this situation together. We're getting to know each other on different terms other than high school. He's a completely different person. I like this Steve as a person. Doesn't mean I like him," I exagerated, "I dont think you can help getting along or even possibly flirting with people that you're thrown together with in situations like this."
"Yeah?" Robin asked as the front desk lady was walking over to us, "Well tell that to the dreamy little smile he gets on his face when you're not looking at him," she said before standing up and graciously taking the blueprints from the lady.
She began walking to the door before I even got up from my chair.
That was bullshit, I thought. I wouldnt lie, little hints of a crush had begun popping up in my head about Steve. But I knew he didn't like me. There was no way, I wasn't exactly the normal type of girl he would chase after. As much as I liked Nancy, I was no Nancy Wheeler.
If I was going to take everything Robin said to heart about Steve flirting with every girl to walk into Scoops, then I needed to think that since I was the only other girl that had been hanging around him for a long period of the summer, then obviously he would act differently around me.
Once we went back to our regular lives, it would go back to the way it was. Dustin and Steve being friends, Robin and Steve working at Scoops together and me avoiding him while I fade to a distant memory in the back of his head. And I was okay with that.
I think.
——
Title credit to REO Speedwagon and gif credit to owner
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