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wiypt-writes · 3 years

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Stark Spangled Banner

Ch:17 I’m Not Going Anywhere

Summary: Katie keeps vigil at Steve’s bedside and in full protective ‘dad’ mode, Tony engages the Stark Industry lawyers when the UN Senate comes calling. But the Winter Soldier has gone back into the shadows, taking one of Steve’s only living ties to his past with him. And no one has a clue where he’s gone.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Violence, bad language words, angst and smut (NSFW) NO UNDER 18s thanks.

A/N: I LOVE LOVE LOVE these edits once more from @angrybirdcr

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 16

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

“He’s panicking…let me talk to him.” Her voice was soft but full of authority.

Then, a familiar hand closed over the one that he held over the mask on his face and she gently spoke this time directly to him.

“Shhhh…” He felt her other hand gently run over his forehead. “Baby, you’re in an ambulance. Try and stay calm, okay?”

And then his eyes focused, just for a second. The panic that had hit him dissipated as Katie’s face filled his vision and he gripped her hand, not wanting her to leave him.

“I’m not going anywhere…” She assured him. “I promise.”

And he believed her. He felt himself relax and fell back against the bed and his eyes closed again, the last thing he heard and felt was her…

Steve’s hand was still tight around Katie’s when they arrived in the emergency room. She went in with the paramedics who took Steve in charge and, as they escorted Steve into the operating room, the realization that she finally had to let go of him crushed her. The same Doctor who had taken care of Fury and her in the warehouse approached her with a nod, and she was suddenly extremely thankful that the Director had as many fingers in as many pies as he did. It was an overwhelming relief to see a face she knew she could trust.

“Miss. Stark, I need you to leave the room, please. I’ll take care of him from here.” The Doctor put his hand on her shoulder to support his point and dropped his voice. “I promise. Fury’s orders”

Ignoring the urge to argue she let go and took a step back, her eyes still focused on the Steve as he lay on the stretcher.

“Heart’s rate climbing, doctor!” Announced one of the nurses. Katie could still see her soldier’s face disfiguring and the slight raising of his eyebrow and clench of his hand if he were trying to hold on to something. She let out a sob as she realised he was looking for her because she had left him, after promising she wouldn’t, and then the double doors of the operating room closed. Finding herself now alone and completely helpless, her limbs began to clench and she was suddenly very aware she was trembling. Then, it was as if someone had tightened a band around her chest, leaving her panting for air as her vision became more and more obscured by tears of panic.

She caught herself against the nearest wall before feeling her legs give way. She managed to lift them into a bent position, before bringing her arms around them so she could hide her head behind her knees as her throat felt like it had completely closed. She concentrated on Steve’s images floating around her brain, his touch, his kisses, how he held her, made love to her, the feeling of his laughter, his eyes, all their moments together.

We could get married if you want…

His face as he had spoken those words, the look she hadn’t been able to place suddenly registered in her brain. He had been hopeful. She closed her eyes trying to hold on to that memory. Eventually, after what felt like a life-time, she felt her throat begin to open again allowing her to take a deep breath, then the tightness in her chest and lungs eased and finally her brain. The hiss of silence in her ears was replaced by the usual murmur of a hospital and she could once again feel the sensations coming back along her limbs. She loosened her arms around her legs, stretching them out in front of her, and lifted her head to lean against the wall.

She had no idea how long she sat there. Minutes, hours…it all blurred into one as she focussed her attention on the doors he had been taken through. Eventually, her little bubble was invaded by a familiar figure hovering over her before Natasha slid to the floor, legs lying in front of her, her arm wrapping round Katie’s shoulder.

“Any news on how he is?” She asked.

"They’re still treating him, as far as I know.” Katie sighed, her head resting gently against Nat’s.

Natasha nodded briefly in acknowledgment before turning to look at her friend. “And you? How are you holding up?”

Katie looked at her, but didn’t answer as Sam’s familiar voice cut across the corridor.

“Katie! Natasha!” He hastened to join them, letting Katie take in his civilian change of clothes. He was bruised too, but overall, he looked okay. “How is he doing? Any news?”

Natasha took it upon herself to answer Sam. Meanwhile, Katie finally decided to get up from her position against the wall. The sudden movement and the long time spent in an identical position made her stagger a little. Sam hastily raised his hands to catch her.

“I brought you a change of clothes.” Nat spoke gently as she too stood up. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t stay. I’m already being summonsed for questioning, but Hill and I are going to do our best to keep your names out of it, both of you.”

“Frankly Nat, at this moment I couldn’t give a fuck about what my name is dragged into.” Katie snapped, her ton a little harsher than she had intended. She sighed. “Sorry…”

“It’s okay.” Nat shook her head, her green eyes catching Katie’s “Look, call me as soon as there’s news.”

She nodded. “Can you call Tony for me? He’s already tried ringing but I can’t bring myself to try and explain.”

“Sure.” Nat nodded. She pulled Katie into a hug, before she headed off up the corridor.

“Katie.” Sam spoke gently. “There’s a waiting room down there.”

“No, I’m staying here.”

“You need to get a proper rest. You got shot yourself yesterday, remember?” Sam reasoned, his tone patient/ “Come on, you’re no good to Cap if you aint in top fighting form.”

Katie gave in and let Sam escort her to the waiting room where the two of them sat in silence. It was around four o'clock in the afternoon, some three hours after they had arrived, when the SHIELD doctor made an appearance. Katie was half-lying with her head against Sam’s shoulder as he was changing the annoying channels of the hospital TV every ten seconds.

“Miss. Stark?”

Sam turned off the television almost immediately while Katie was already on her feet in impatience.

"Yeah?”

“Sorry it’s taken so long but there was a few complications.”

“Complications?” Katie frowned “He’s got fucking super serum coursing through his DNA, it’s supposed to help him heal”” “And it did, meaning the wounds had started to close over which caused us a bit of an issue but he’s out of theatre and the surgery was a success.”

“So he’s gonna be okay?” Sam asked and the Doctor nodded.

“He lost a lot of blood but we’ve given him a transfusion and his vitals are stable. He’s gonna be fine.”

Katie let out a sob and covered her face with her hands, relief flooding every cell in her body as Sam wrapped an arm round her.

“We’ve moved him into his own room and it will be a while before he regains consciousness, how long we can’t say.” The doctor continued gently, before looking round and then back to her, his voice lowering “We have an armed guard on his door, Fury’s orders, but you two can stay with him.”

He beckoned for them to follow him through the corridors of the hospital. "He’s doing very well, all things considered.” He said stopping in front of a door. “But, just so you’re aware, he is heavily sedated to ensure he rests as he was quite agitated. Now, it’s just a case of letting him rest whilst the serum work its magic.”

“Thank you.” Katie choked out before she turned to the door and a hand gently touched her arm. She looked up and did a double take as she saw Evans stood there.

“Hey Nova.”

“Evans.” Her voice was a whisper, as he pulled her into a hug. “You…”

“No, I’m not HYDRA, probably the only one in STRIKE who wasn’t.” He swallowed as she stepped back to look at him noticing the shiny bruise adorning his right cheek and the split in his upper lip. “I swear I had no idea. It all started smelling a bit funky when they told us Cap was public enemy number one, and then when I heard his voice on that PA…” He shook his head, sadly. “I’m sorry I didn’t try to find you, help sooner…”

Katie shook her head as the ginger Texan man wiped at his eyes with the heel of his palm.

“None of us knew Paul.” The use of his first name made him look at her, and she was swept back into his arms again.

“How is he?” He asked as she stepped back, nodding to the room.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep ya.” He smiled and she gently squeezed his arm. “I’ll be right her if ya’ll need anything.”

“I don’t want anyone in here without my say so.” She instructed. Evans jerked his head to show he understood and she gave him a tight smile as she pushed the door open and stepped into the room, Sam following.

The sight in front of her made fresh tears spring into her eyes and she swallowed as she silently took in Steve’s condition. He was lying, asleep, in his bed with whilst IV’s and monitors recorded his vitals. He had stitches in several places on his face, nasty bruises around his left eye and jawline, and a huge swelling along the same eye that was likely to prevent him from seeing properly for a while. Overall, he was a mess.

“Katie-”

“I’m fine.” She interrupted Sam quickly in a hoarse voice, slightly tinged with her desire to cry. She took a shaky breath as she could hear Steve’s steady heartbeat reaching her ears. “I just need a minute.”

She slowly made her way to one of the chairs by the bed, settling down without looking away from Steve as she reached up to take one of his hands. It was colder than she could ever remember him being.

“Hey, Soldier.” She breathed in a shaking voice before pressing her lips to his bruised knuckles as she held his large hand in both of hers. For a moment, she thought she felt his hand contract in recognition but when she looked down he showed no signs of being awake. “I don’t know if you can hear me but I’m here, like I promised.”

******

The next few hours Sam and Katie stayed in the room with him and eventually Katie had to concede she really needed to clean up. She looked around for the bag which Nat had brought her some clothes in and stood up, grabbing it from where it sat by the door.

“I’m need the bathroom.” She looked at Sam and he nodded. “I won’t be long.”

She headed down the corridor and entered the ladies restroom, leaning over the sink. She glanced at the mirror, her eyes were red, face was dirty, hands still full of Steve’s blood and she looked all in all like a right mess. She set about washing her hands, her face and anything else that she could before she stepped into a cubicle and peeled off her lycra leggings and compression top. Dressing in the jeans and black sweater that Nat had packed, she was also touched to the point of more tears to see her friend had packed her some deodorant, a set of face wipes, dry shampoo, toothbrush, toothpaste and a hairbrush. By the time Katie had finished she looked almost normal.

Katie pinged Nat a message to thank her and fill her in on the news that Steve was going to be okay and one came back almost immediately

Thank God, and you’re welcome. I just spoke to Tony. He’s on his way back from Australia as we speak, he’d already set off after seeing the news. He told me to tell you to call him, ASAP.

So she did.

“Jesus Kiddo!” Her brother exclaimed when he answered, “I’ve been so worried…how are you? How’s Cap?”

“He’s stable. Still out of it but…” Fresh tears sprung into her eyes at hearing her brother’s voice.

“I’ve had Pepper call the hospital, anything you or he needs…anything…” He stressed, gently “and she’s working to keep the press off your back.”

“Thanks. Where abouts are you?”

“Approaching Singapore airspace. I’ll be there as soon as I can, I promise.”

“’kay…”

“Love you Kiddo, he’s strong. He’ll be fine.”

“So everyone keeps saying.” She whispered, the sob catching in her throat.

Tony sighed “Look, this is Rogers we’re talking about. He’s as stubborn as you are.”

“I know.”

“I’ll see you soon. Call me if there’s any news, ok?”

But there wasn’t. Katie sent Sam home in the early hours of the morning but her vigil never wavered. Doctors and nurses bustled in throughout the night. Steve’s vitals were improving but he still didn’t wake up. She managed a few hours sleep, on and off, spreading herself across two of the chairs, waking at around five am. She gratefully accepted the offer of a coffee from a nurse who arrived to explain that they were about to move Steve into a bigger, nicer room, courtesy of Pepper’s discussions with the hospital.

It was around 10 am when Sam returned. The new guard who had relieved Evans for a shift stopped him immediately until Katie popped her head out of the door and told him it was okay. After he had frisked Sam he walked in, holding out a bag containing a breakfast sandwich.

“You’re an angel.” Katie smiled as she tore into it, unaware how long it was since she had eaten something.

The two of them ate as they watched the news reports on the TV in the corner of the bright room. They spoke of the Helicarriers, HYDRA’s plot having integrated the governmental organization as well as the impending investigation. Katie watched the footage of her and Sam whizzing around the sky, and listened as they had even rebuffed Steve’s message for more effect. The attack was all the world was talking about and all the news was focused on Steve’s recovery and the repercussions of his actions.

“The identity of the Avenger Supernova has until today remained a mystery but the rumours are beginning to amass than it is none other than Katie Stark…” One of the news readers was saying,“the sister of Iron Man and girlfriend of Captain America…”

Katie didn’t even flinch. It wasn’t like they wouldn’t find out anyway, as soon as those files they had dumped on the internet became common knowledge it was going to blow up, plus, it was pretty obvious now. What was annoying her however, was that it was as if they blamed them, in particular Steve, for doing what was right.

A few hours later just as Sam had left again, Katie heard a commotion outside the doors to the room and she stood up.

“You know me right? Tony Stark, my sister is in there.”

“Sir, I’m under instructions not to…”

“It’s okay, Davies.” Katie stepped out of the room and spoke to the guard. “He’s good.”

Davies sighed “Mr Stark, I’m gonna have to search you then.” He relented.

Tony shrugged and held his arms out, once he’d been patted down he shot Davies a contemptuous look and he entered the room. No sooner had he done that, Katie was in his arms, sobbing, the Doctor who had been checking Steve shot them both a look as he sidled out of the room quickly.

“Shhhhh Kiddo.” Tony gently stroked her hair as she pressed her face into his chest, his familiar aftershave and touch reminding her of all the times he’d soothed her before when she was upset.

“I’m so glad you’re here.”

Tony stepped back to look at her. “Red said you got shot.”

“I did, but I’m okay, see.” Katie shifted her top to show him the patch that was over her wound, which was healing well.

“Sounds like you’ve been having a bit of fun without me.” Tony sniffed, “It’s okay, I’m not really hurt. Well, maybe just a little. JARVIS is in a whole heap of trouble for not telling me by the way…”

“I told him not to, you were in Australia, Tones.” Katie shook her head gently “Besides, this was all a bit crazy. There wasn’t really time, if we had waited for you to get back it would have been too late…and you could have been in danger and…” She looked over at Steve, his face was still a mess. “Look at him Tony…”

Her brother placed his arm around her and squeezed. “He’s gonna be fine.”

Katie lay her head on Tony’s shoulder as they sat down, his hand gently stroking over her hair, not once trying to get her to leave as he knew she wouldn’t. She’d burst randomly into tears again when she’d told him her car was now buried in the wreck of the Triskelion. It was a lump of metal, not something that mattered, but Tony understood. She was letting everything out, and he simply sat with her and soothed her, informing her that the car was ready for being changed anyway.

“But I like my car.” She sniffed.

“Kiddo, it’s almost nine years old. I got you that for your Twenty-First.”

“And that’s why I like it.”

Tony had to chuckle, that’s what she was like. Sentimental. It was the gesture behind gifts that mattered to her, not the value. He’d brought her up that way to value money, even though they had it in abundance, and he was fiercely proud of the woman she had grown to be. Humble in many ways that he wasn’t.

“You know he asked me to move in with him.” Katie spoke again, breaking the silence after a minute or so.

“Before marriage?” He teased. “Well, well, well.”

She snorted a laugh “That’s what I said. And then he turned round and told me we could get married if I wanted.”

Tony stiffened slightly before he looked down at her. “And do you want?”

She nodded. “Of course I do. Only I told him to ask me again with a big diamond.” She sniffed again before sobbing. “We both laughed but why did I say that? I don’t need a fucking ring, or-”

“Hey, hey.” Tony gently took her face in both his hands. “You just said it yourself. You both laughed. He won’t have taken it as anything but what it was, a joke. Steve knows you love him. Everyone does. Frankly it’s hard not to, it’s sickening”

She gave a wet laugh and Tony wiped at her cheeks with his thumbs.

“He’s gonna move into mine.” She smiled, as they both settled down again, her head returning to his shoulder. “His place is too small and full of bullet holes and…blood.”

“Sensible” Tony agreed, pulling her closer.

At one point during the night Pepper called, filling Tony in on the fact that Natasha was to be summonsed to the UN for a hearing and that they wanted Katie there too, her secret identity as an Avenger was well and truly busted.

“Get the lawyers onto it.” Tony replied simply, glancing at Katie who was now asleep, across a makeshift bed consisting of four plastic chairs from around the room, head laying on his lap As his hand gently smoothed her hair, his need to protect her boiled fiercely within him. “She’s not going anywhere, certainly not yet. Oh, and I need you to get hold of Happy. I have a couple of jobs for him.”

*****

Every single inch of Steve’s body hurt. His mouth felt like sandpaper, his head was full of cotton wool, his eyes hurt as the colours flashed in front of them. He screwed his eyes further shut against the painful light that still assaulted him through his closed eyelids. He took a moment to breathe, steadying himself as soft music flooded his ears. It wasn’t something he had heard before but it was pleasant, soulful, jazz-like. His head stopped spinning and he felt brave enough to crack an eye open. He glanced round the room, puzzled slightly. He was in a hospital. Then he remembered. The Hellicarriers, Bucky, and the last thing he had seen before blacking out, his girl. He had been cold, and wet, but she had been there. And she still was, at the side of his bed, head laying against Sam’s shoulder.

“On your left.” He managed to croak out. Katie’s head jerked up from its resting place and they both glanced over at the bed where Steve was led. He smiled groggily before his head rolled to the side, flush back against the pillow and he closed his eyes once more.

At the sound of his voice, Katie instantly jumped up and settled on the side of his bed, gently stroking his face.

“Hey.” Her voice cracked. “Welcome back.”

“’M so tired, Sweetheart.” He mumbled as she dropped a kiss to his forehead, his eyes remaining closed as he managed a small smile.

“Then sleep.” She instructed softly, the relief flooding her system that he was with them, albeit not totally, but he was with them. She gently smoothed his hair, and kept that up until she could tell he was back asleep.

She turned to Sam who gave her a smile. “Lazy bastard.”

A few minutes later a nurse popped her head round the door. Katie smiled and told her about him waking up briefly and she nodded, checking the readings. “That’s a good sign.” she beamed, “His body will be drained, serum or no serum so him resting is part of the natural recovery process. When he comes round fully, come find me and we’ll get the doctor back.”

An hour or so later, the mood in Steve’s room was considerably lighter given his waking up before. Katie, Sam and Evans, who was leaning in the open doorway, were mid a playful discussion as to whether or not Voldemort could take Darth Vader in a fight. (Katie had started this whole thing after calling Evans “Ron Weasley with a rifle” on her way back from the bathroom) and were just about to dive into the whole schematics on Magic vs The Force when a voice spoke from the bed.

“What the hell are you three talking about?” Steve grumbled playfully and Katie’s head jerked up to see his eyes watching her and she was beyond happy to see they were full of their usual warmth, the warmth he had whenever he looked at her.

“Hi!” Katie breathed in relief as she stood up and moved closer to him, settling on the edge of his bed.

“Hey, Doll.” He smiled as she took his hand, her fingers snaking into his. His eyes flickered to Evans, taking in the man’s various bruises and he frowned.

“Got in a bit of a fight with Rollins.” Evans drawled with a nod, and Steve let out the breath he hadn’t realised he had been holding. The man wasn’t HYDRA. “He didn’t take kindly to me threatening to test out the whole ‘cut one head off, two more shall take its place’ theory on him.”

Steve gave a small huff of a laugh before he winced slightly at the movement and Evans nodded to him once more, before allowing the door to shut, returning to his post. Steve’s eyes fell on Sam who raised an eyebrow at him.

“You know, having a building dropped on my head wasn’t part of the job description”

Steve’s smile spread a bit further before he gently lifted his head up off the pillow, looking around before grimacing at the throbbing that filled each bone in his body “How long was I out?”

“Forty-Three hours and Thirty Seven minutes if you don’t count the last hour you’ve been resting.” Katie smiled gently, glancing up at the clock on the wall as she settled on the side of the bed. Ah, yes, Steve’s brain vaguely registered he’d woken up before, made some quip of some sorts. “Not that I’ve been counting…” She finished and he smiled again, giving her hand a squeeze.

“Have you been here that whole time?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Sam’s been here too, a lot. As has Tony. He’s just nipped back to my place to change and make a few calls.”

“Trust me, two days aint that bad considering how you looked when you got here.” Sam added jokingly.

“Sam.” Katie reprimanded gently, looking at him.

“Alright,” He relented standing from his chair and holding his hands up, with a smirk. “I’ll go get that hot nurse, give you guys a minute.”

“Utter dog.” She snorted, the pair of them watching as he left the room and she turned to face Steve, tears in her eyes.

“You scared me.”

“Sorry.” He looked at her, and he was. He hated seeing her upset. There was a moment’s pause before he decided he had to know. “What happened after… did we?”

“SHIELD’s gone, Alexander Pierce is dead. Fury shot him. And as far as HYDRA, everyone major that was involved at the Treskellion is either captured or dead.” she paused, not sure if she should be telling him the full scale of what had gone down. Not whilst he was still recovering.

“What is it?” he frowned and she knew she wouldn’t be able to fob him off.

“Nat dumping the files on the internet means my identity as Nova is probably blown wide open. There goes our quiet life.”

“Nothing about our life is quiet.” he said a soft chuckle rising in his chest.

She grinned “True. Gonna be a lot of other shit to mop up though, The Treskellion was the tip of the iceberg. All the main SHIELD bases fell. America, Canada, Europe.”

Steve nodded along then asked the question he was almost afraid to hear the answer to. “Any news on Bucky?

"He’s gone.” Katie told him sadly. “I’m sorry Steve. I know how much he meant to you. But, I think he remembered you. He pulled you out of the river, told me to get help.” She continued to explain about their short exchange on the river bank and Steve listened, unable to stop the hopeful feeling spreading in his chest. Maybe there was a chance for Bucky after all, they just needed to find him. Katie watched him, and he smiled at her.

“I’m glad you spoke to him.” He nodded, and then a cheeky glint flashed in his eyes “Still think all the girls in Brooklyn were dumbasses for hanging off his arm and not mine?”

She gave a bark of a laugh and leaned down towards his face, rubbing her nose against his “Always.” She whispered, before giving him a soft quick peck on the lips.

******

Tony arrived back an hour or so later. He was genuinely pleased to see Steve awake and after gently grasping the soldier’s hand between both of his in a friendly, brotherly, gesture he sat down and delivered some interesting news.

“So the Goth Pirate called me.” He said, leaning back in his seat “He sounded amazingly well for a dead guy.”

“Fury called you?” Steve frowned

“Yeah. He’s laying low, you know, on account of being dead, and he wants to hand control of the Avengers over to us, Cap.”

Steve frowned, before he lay his head back on his pillow. He knew the Avengers would be needed again, especially now with SHIELD gone. He turned to Tony who continued.

“I think that’s the right thing to do, for us to take control” The billionaire spoke and Steve nodded.

“I suppose, but there’s something I gotta do first.”

“Yeah, recover.” Sam shot, drawing a faint smile from Steve but Katie knew full well he didn’t mean that. He was intending to go after Bucky.

They spent the rest of the afternoon making idle chit chat with Tony, who was already planning on further renovating the tower to house the Avengers full time in the wake of Fury’s news. Steve, Katie was pleased to see, was enthusiastic about the plans and listened, looking at the various ideas Tony showed him on the tablet. However, now that Steve was awake, the nurses seemed to be a little more reluctant to allow everyone to stay and at about six pm one of them politely suggested that Sam and Tony should be making their way home.

“You do know I’m paying for this, right?” Tony quipped at her. She shot him a look which made him visibly recoil and he turned to Katie pulling a face as he stood up.

“I’ve gotta get back to New York anyway.” He shrugged, pulling his sister into a hug. “Lawyers to speak to…new suits to build seeing as you blew yours up.”

“You blew it up?” Steve looked at her.

“I needed to send up a signal so everyone could find us.” She shrugged as Tony looked at her reproachfully.

“Yeah, I should be going too. I gotta tidy my place.” Sam groaned. “Someone trashed it.”

“You’re welcome to stay at mine if you want, for as long as you need.” Katie offered, as Steve let out a sigh and began to mumble an apology which Sam waved away.

“It’s fine man, it won’t take me long to reorganise it all.”

“Speaking of which…” Tony looked at Steve then Katie as he fished in his pockets for something. “I’ve had Happy organise to clear your apartment Cap, now you two are shacking up together. He’s gonna have all your stuff sent Kiddo’s, save you a job. Oh and I figured you might need this.” He tossed Katie a set of keys. She glanced down at them, her eyebrow raised.

“It’s a Q5, rought over from my personal collection.” He looked at her and she smiled at her brother. “Try not to bury this one under a sky-scraper.”

“Thank you.” She whispered, giving him another hug, slipping the keys into her pocket. “I love you, Tone.”

“Obviously, because I’m the best big brother in the world.” He hugged her tight, and Steve nodded to him, thanking him with a look which Tony acknowledged with a sharp incline of his head in the soldier’s direction.

As the two men left, Steve raised his right arm to bid them goodbye and the pair of them headed off down the corridor, chatting away animatedly. Katie watched them go before turning to Steve, who was yawning like a lion.

“You okay?”

“I just don’t remember the last time I was this tired…or in as much pain”

"Do you want me to get the Nurse, up your pain relief?”

“No.” He yawned again, he hated how it made the room spin.“Think I’m gonna sleep.”

She teased gently. “Again?”

He smiled and looked at her, swallowing. “Will…will you stay?” He asked, tentatively “Until I fall asleep, that is?”

“I’m not leaving you.” She cut him off and dropped a kiss to his forehead as she climbed onto the bed next to him “I’ll be here when you go to sleep, and here when you wake up.”

“You don’t need to stay all night. You must be exhausted, you should go home and get some sleep.”

“I’m fine…” She looked at him, before her body betrayed her and she too let out a huge yawn which she tried to stifle. He raised an eyebrow.

“Please honey, you need some rest too.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Steve shook his head. She really was obtuse at times.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He lay his head back on the pillow a grin flashing across his face. “Just remembering what a stubborn, pain in the-“

“If you wanna get out of here any time soon, then I wouldn’t finish that sentence…”

“Miss Stark is that a threat?” Steve looked at her, a smile curling further across his face

“It’s a promise…” She grinned, leaning over to kiss him gently. “Now go to sleep.”

*******

Steve was discharged from the hospital the next afternoon, the doctors having no reason to keep him any longer since he healed so quickly, though a cheeky nurse did warn that it wouldn’t be wise for him to engage in any strenuous activity, with a pointed look in Katie’s direction who merely rolled her eyes, a small smirk playing on her face.

They arrived back to Katie’s, no theirs, a little after 4 in the afternoon. Steve was dying for a hot shower, and a shave, despite Katie’s protests that she liked the stubble he had sprouted, and whilst he was under the scalding hot waterfall, Katie headed into the kitchen to grab a drink. As she opened the fridge for a bottle of water she wasn’t surprised it was fully stocked including a few bottles of expensive pinot grigio and some beer. There was a note stuck to one of the bottles, in Tony’s handwriting.

Couldn’t have you both coming home to an empty fridge now, could I?

Whatever it is he’s ‘got to do’, I know you’ll follow. So keep safe, stay in touch, and if you need help…you know where to find a good team.

T xxx

She read the note over again and smiled to herself. It was times like this that her brother always came through for her. She fired him a quick text message to thank him before she headed up to the bedroom to see if Steve was hungry.

“Hey love, just wanted to know…” the words died in her mouth at the sight of him, his upper body was flecked with droplets of water from the shower. The knife wound on his shoulder had faded to nothing but a fresh, pink scar and the bruises he sported were all starting to turn yellow now apart from one stubborn one on the right side of his ribcage that was still a mass of purple. But it was the round circle of scar tissue that stood out, on the left side of his lower abdomen, angry and red, where the bullet that had done the most damage had exited that caught her attention. Her mouth went dry and suddenly her eyes were misting over as it hit her exactly how close she had come to losing him. Quite simply, she wasn’t sure she could cope without him now, which scared her as she’d always been fiercely independent.

“Hey…” he said, swiftly stepping forward, his hands cupping her face as he saw her face crumple “Sweetheart, I’m fine…”

“I know, I know but…” she sniffed. “I almost lost you and I couldn’t bear it if that happened…”

“Well you didn’t.” He said, gently, “Gonna take more than that to get rid of me.”

His lips brushed hers, the lightest of touches but it set every single nerve end she had into over drive with desire. As her breath hitched she felt him grin against her mouth before he kissed her, slightly harder this time, parting her lips with his tongue. He pulled her close, moving his hands up to the small of her back, pressing her into him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, running the fingers of one hand through his hair while the others lingered at the base of his skull, holding him to her. They stayed like that for what felt like forever, the kiss growing in intensity, hunger, until Katie felt him hard against her stomach and her face was raw from the stubble that he hadn’t shaved yet.

“The doctor said you had to take it easy…” she whispered into the space between them as they each worked to steady our breathing

“Yeah…” he said, slowly moving her backwards, “But, what do they know?”

“Ermm a lot.” she snorted.

“You need proof that I’m all healed?”

“Depends on what proof you’re talking about…” she grinned as he dropped his hands to her ass, reaching down as if to lift her but she stopped him, hands on his wrists.

“Steve, your ribs…”

“For once in your life will you shut up and just do as you’re told…” He looked down at her. She was about to argue, about to tell him no, but as he looked at her, his eyes alive with desire she knew it was pointless.

“Yes, Captain…” she murmured as his lips crashed onto hers, but he didn’t try and lift her again, instead he backed her up the short few strides, before the back of her knees hit the side of the bed and she dropped back onto it.

“I’ll take it easy…” He whispered as he crawled over the top of her, sliding his hand up her jersey dress and into the waistband of her leggings and knickers, slowly sinking two fingers into her warm, wet depth. She let out a soft moan, open mouth grazing his neck as he felt her clench around him. “Easy,” he repeated before her mouth hungrily claimed his again. He moved his hands to reach down and they parted just long enough so he could pull her dress up over her head. His eyes automatically darted to the bullet wound on her left shoulder, that hadn’t healed half as fast as his, the stitches weren’t due out for another week

“I hate that you got hurt…” he muttered, slipping one bra strap down, then the other, before she arched her back allowing him to reach round and undo the clasp before he discarded it to the floor. His lips travelled across her collar bone and up her neck, drawing a soft groan from her lips as his stubble scraped her skin and once more his fingers claimed her. She writhed with pleasure at his strokes and he groaned gently, his lips working on the spot under her ear. He moved away for a second, to rid himself of the towel and crawled over her so that she was led flat, his hands pulling at the side of her black leggings, removing them along with her panties easily. He positioned himself over her, his tongue dipping into her mouth before he pushed into her, making her shudder slightly. His hands were on either side of her face, caressing her cheek and jaw as he kissed her again, rocking his hips as opposed to thrusting, the contact not breaking for a second. He dropped his head to her neck, his lips gently brushing her ear as he let out a groan, his hips grinding against hers.

It was soft, it was gentle, it was intimate, not rushed and Katie cried out his name loudly when her orgasm took her, her thighs closing around him. He was consumed completely by her, and he followed her over the edge, a loud moan rumbling in his throat. God he loved this woman with every single inch of his body.

“One day,” he mumbled, his lips brushing her ear, “I’m going to ask you properly.”

She understood what he meant. Smiling she looked at him, not a shred of hesitation on her face as her lips met his and she whispered into the kiss, “One day, I’m going to say yes.”

He couldn’t help the huge grin that spread across his face as he kissed her again, noses sliding carefully against one another to avoid aggravating any bruises before he rolled over pulling her to him, her words reverberating around his head.

I’m going to say yes.

His hand gently carded through her hair as he felt her relax into him and he dropped a kiss to the top of her head.

I’m going to say yes.

*****

The flashes of the photographers and the hustle and bustle of the audience were invasive. 4 days had passed since they had taken down SHIELD/Hydra and despite the best attempts of the lawyers that Tony had instructed on both hers and Natasha’s behalf, they had been summonsed to Capitol Hill.

What pissed Katie off the most wasn’t the attention, it was the fact they were being held accountable when they had done the right thing. Natasha felt the same, but the pair of them remained professional and unaffected by the staging of the conference before them. They both moved to the fingerprint reader before returning to their appointed places to answer their questions. Nat’s hair was as usual smoothed and perfectly capped on her shoulders, Katie’s was twisted back in a bun. Katie’s face still bore the bruises she had gotten from Rumlow, which were turning and fading and she probably could have covered them better but she’d chosen not to, simply to make a point.

“Miss Stark, you know Captain Rogers the best out of anyone in this room. Why do you believe he felt the need to take down our intelligence service?”

Katie wanted to laugh; it was such a stupid question to open with. But the serious look on his face told her he was serious.

"Taking down SHIELD was the morally right thing to do. If we hadn’t stopped that launch over twenty million people would be dead.” she said seriously. The congressman eyed her before jotting down something on his notepad.

The questioning continued from there. Not many people in the room were sympathetic to all that they had been through. In fact, Katie would go as far as to suggest that most were trying to find a weak spot or a way for them to trip them up. An hour in and it felt like they were going round in circles. Katie was getting pissed off. Besides her Nat shifted slightly, crossing her arms over her chest, the two women resisting the urge to look at one another.

“Why is there no news from Captain Rogers?” asked one of the men of the congress.

That was when Katie lost it. She turned to the front taking a deep breath as she looked up at the ceiling with annoyance, the eye roll she had been fighting came fully as she glanced back at the moron who had been speaking “I don’t know what else to say.” she spoke, her tone laced with sarcasm. “Maybe the fact he almost died might have something to do with it. That said, I think the new rock in the middle of the Potomac speaks for him in this case.”

"Perhaps he can explain to us how he hopes this country will ensure its national security because you have dismantled our intelligence services.” The Congressman insisted reproachfully.

This time it was Natasha that spoke, her attitude ringing across the room, she was pissed as well.

“What information?” She asked angrily. “HYDRA sold you lies.”

“Lies that you took care to spread.” The Congressman reminded, pointing at her with a knowing look. Natasha narrowed her lips to his allusion but it was Katie that answered, the final threads of her self-control finally snapping.

“Ste- Captain Rogers, sacrificed everything to save the lives of millions of people when he took that airship down into the ice over 70 years ago.” she leant forward “Not to mention the fact that my dad, Howard Stark, the co-founder of SHIELD also worked against Hydra in the war.” she took a breath and looked at Natasha “Agent Romanoff was almost killed by Hydra’s most deadly assassin on a mission 5 years ago. And more to the fact, 2 years ago we fought, side by side as part of the Avengers to keep the world and its people safe. And you’re seriously suggesting now that we would knowingly put those same people in danger?”

“Passionate speech Miss Stark, or should we call you Nova…” he said, making her snort and look away “And perhaps you’re right, maybe you didn’t know…but Agent Romanoff…” he turned to Natasha “It happens that a few in the commission have the feeling that, given your state of service for our country and against it, your place is more in a penitentiary than in a senatorial commission.”

Katie looked at Nat who took a deep breath, clearly collecting her thoughts before answering with confidence. "You’re not gonna put me in jail.” She paused for the dramatic effect before letting a small smirk curl the corner of her pink lips as she glanced at a Katie before looking at the front again “You’re not gonna put any of us in jail.” She arched a mocking eyebrow as she kept eye contact with the congressman. “You know why?”

“Please enlighten us.” He replied snidely.

“Because you need us.” Katie answered for her. “With SHIELD gone, the world needs the Avengers more than ever.”

Natasha smiled gently and continued “Miss Stark is right. Yes, the world is vulnerable. And we’re partly responsible, but we’re also the most qualified to defend it. So you want to throw us in prison? Go ahead” she shrugged “You know where to find us.”

With that she gently touched Katie’s shoulder and she rose gracefully from her seat, Katie following her. The pair of them turned to face the hordes of press, all of them were shoving microphones and cameras into their faces whilst they moved to the doors and pushed their way through the throng of people.

“Move aside please…” Happy was in his element, arm round Katie as he cleared a path to the SUV, where he opened the door to allow them to slide in. He pulled away from the kerb and sped off.

“We’ll head to Miss Romanoff’s first, then I’ll drop you home Kiddo.”

“Happy, what would I do without you?” Katie smiled at him. She turned to Nat who was looking out of the window.

“You ok?”

She shrugged “Could be worse.”

“So, what’s next for you?” she asked.

“Gonna take a bit of time out.” she said vaguely, shrugging “You?”

“Steve wants to track Bucky down.” Katie sighed “Although I’m not so sure it’s a good idea.”

She didn’t reply. They rode in silence until they reached her condo and Katie turned to her.

“Nat.”

She looked at Katie, her green eyes locking onto her friend’s.

“Don’t be a stranger. Come over this week, we can get takeout and make fun out of Steve, just like normal.”

She smiled and reached across the seats, giving her a hug. “I’d like that.”

****

The days following the hearing were peaceful as Steve and Katie mostly lounged at home, unpacking some of his things that Happy had sent over. They binge watched shows, cooked, went for walks and then one night Sam and Natasha dropped in for take-out and a few beers. Sam made sure he congratulated Katie and Natasha on them both basically telling the Government to kiss their asses.

“It was the best thing I’ve seen on TV in years!” he gleefully said, as Steve dropped a kiss to the side of Katie’s head. In contrast, Steve had hated seeing both her and Nat getting grilled. He’d offered to go himself but both girls had insisted they could handle it, and he should keep his head down for the foreseeable. It was the one thing that Katie knew she could do to protect him.

It was as Natasha was leaving that Steve pulled her to one side and asked her if she could get any of her old contacts to dig up any information on Bucky. Katie pretended she wasn’t listening to the conversation, but she heard every word as Natasha tried to warn him that it wasn’t a good idea, but, stubborn as ever, Steve insisted so she nodded, and promised to do what she could.

And now, almost two weeks later, they were stood in a graveyard. Katie supposed there were stranger places to meet up with your dead-not-dead ex-boss…

“Funny, most people need a Medium or a Ouija board to speak to dead people.” Sam quipped as Fury approached them.

“I see dead people…” Katie replied in an almost perfect impression of the Kid from The Sixth Sense, causing Sam to snort and Steve to chastise the pair of them for acting like a pair of school children in a graveyard.

“Sorry Dad.” Katie rolled her eyes and he shot her a disapproving look which she met with an equally sassy one of her own, and Steve looked away before he laughed at her.

"So, you’ve experienced this sort of thing before?” Fury asked, drawing up behind the three.

“You get used to it,” said Steve, looking down at the grave stone with Fury’s name on it, placed over an empty, buried coffin.

Katie slipped her hand into his, gently squeezing it.

“We’ve been data mining Hydra’s files. Looks like a lot of rats didn’t go down with the ship,” said Fury, He was standing by Katie’s side, staring down at his own tombstone, with sunglasses on and a hoodie over his head and he looked up at Steve “I’m headed to Europe tonight. Wanted to ask if you’d come.”

“There’s something I gotta do first,” Steve responded, simply.

“I assume you gotta do it too?” Fury looked at Katie. She shrugged.

“How about you, Wilson? Could use a man with your ability,” said Fury, turning his gaze to Sam.

“I’m more of a soldier than a spy,” responded Sam.

“Alright then,” Fury shrugged, shaking Sam’s hand before going over to shake Steve’s. “If anybody asks for me, tell them they can find me right here.” He said shaking Katie’s hand last as he nodded to the grave.

“You should be honoured.” Natasha’s voice drifted across from behind the three of them, making them turn around to see her walking up to them while Fury himself was already strolling away in the opposite direction. “That’s about as close as he gets to saying ‘thank you’.”

“Not going with him?” Katie asked.

“No,” she sang coming to a stop, keeping her hands behind her back.

“Not staying here,” Steve concluded.

“Nah…” she drew out the reply. “I blew all my covers, I gotta go figure out a new one.”

“That could take some time,” Katie raised an eyebrow.

“I’m counting on it.” She smirked, turning to Steve. “That thing you asked for; called in a few favours from Kiev.”

As she removed her hands from behind her back, she revealed a brown folder, which Steve took staring down at it with a contemplative expression.

“Be careful Steve,” she added, repeating her warning and he looked at her, nodding. “You may not want to pull on that thread.”

“Take care of yourself.” Katie said, looking at her, before giving her a quick hug. “I think I’m going to miss you, just a little bit."

"Only a little?” Natasha teased right back. “I’ll miss you too.”

She turned to leave and Katie gently reached over to tilt the file down so she could see it, wincing at the photo of Bucky in some kind of cryo-stasis. Steve looked at her, his eyes giving away his sadness and she gently ran her hand up his arm.

“I’m not sure I want you involved in this.” he looked down at her and she rolled her eyes.

“We live together you ass.” She looked at him, sternly “And we’re in this now, the both of us. I’m not going anywhere.”

She felt like she had been saying that a lot recently, and she had. But she wanted him to understand, nothing that happened could and would ever tear them apart.

As Sam approached Steve closed the folder, but the man had already seen it. He shot a look up to the sky, his eyes locking on Katie’s and she gave him a quick look which was almost sympathetic as she registered Sam’s frustration. It didn’t go unnoticed by Steve either, he knew this could be opening a whole can of worms, or a ‘bucket of vipers’ as Katie had said the other night, but he had to try. He owed it to Bucky.

“You’re going after him aren’t you?” Sam asked.

“You don’t have to come with us.” Steve responded

“I know.” Sam remarked, before a smirk crossed his face. “When do we start?”

**** Chapter 18

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #Katie Stark #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #mcu fanfic #mcu #captain america #chris evans #chris evans characters

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the-evil-authoress · 3 years

Text

GX Month Day 4: “Swing of Memories”

Ah, yes, those sweet, precious memories shared with siblings...and a few you’d rather forget. Explore the bond between Asuka Tenjoin/Alexis Rhodes and Fubuki Tenjoin/Atticus Rhodes today! A sweet sibling hug? A heated argument? Show us!

Yes, I summarized and skipped over parts of the actual duel. This thing would have been so much longer if I hadn’t. Cheese and crackers this monster. O_O

This is not how Alexis expected this night to go. She almost regrets her idea for all of them to crash together when they are now standing on a magic platform above lava that will destabilize with every turn that passes. Syrus already looks ready to pass out, clinging to the back of Jaden’s jacket for dear life.

“Isn’t this counterproductive for you?!” Alexis yells at the shadowy creep. The way the darkness clings to him makes it impossible to distinguish any features, beyond the fact he wears black and that creepy mask. Even his voice sounds distorted. “If we die, you can’t duel us for the keys!”

A dark laugh like shadows on the walls. “Do you know why the Keys cannot simply be taken?” the man asks instead of answering.

“Because the Keys form a bond with whomever holds them,” Bastion snaps. Of course they already asked the important questions when Chancellor Sheppard told them about this crazy shadow war. “Therefore that bond must be broken through ritual combat.”

“Mmm, well you’re half right.” The man tilts his head, sounding smug under the layers of shadows that mask his real voice. “There’s more than one way to break a bond. A Key holder could give their Key to another- a simple, painless transfer. But I don’t expect you lot to do that. You’re far too good.” For a moment his voice is viscous, deadly, and sends a shiver down Alexis’ spine. The next he returns to almost mockingly light-hearted teasing. “However, if a Key holder dies, there’s nothing for the Key to bond to, now is there? A Key without an owner is free for the taking.”

Great, just great! So much for ‘can only be won in a duel’. If this wackjob figured out a loophole, then how many of the other Shadow Riders know about it?

Bastion inhales sharply, eyes darting back to the dark platform under their feet as Christina snarls a curse and Syrus and Chumley wail.

“Of fucking course!”

“I don’t wanna die~!”

“Don’t you worry about that.” That shadows-on-the-wall laugh again. “I’ll win this match long before you can fall. I want the pleasure of taking you all out myself.”

“Certainly confident,” Bastion grumbles, but there’s genuine fear in his eyes.

“Not gonna happen!” Jaden yells with all of his usual bravado; Alexis shouldn’t be surprised.

The duel starts to everyone’s dismay but it’s not like they actually have a way off this volcano. Alexis still doesn’t know how they got here beyond falling through the magical darkness that overtook Jaden’s dorm room. The first round isn’t anything special, the most excitement comes from Chumley’s leg falling through the platform as he tries to convince himself it’s still stable. Syrus and Chumley both scream as they all yank him back up and stare in horror at the brand new hole in the only thing between them and certain death.

“-Red-Eyes Black Dragon!”

What?

Alexis’ attention snaps back to the duel as the familiar monster takes the field in a blaze of glory and proceeds to blast Jaden back several feet. Syrus goes tumbling with him, and Christina shrieks as they come dangerously close to the edge, but Jaden skids to stop with a foot to spare, one hand braced against the platform and the other fisted in Syrus’ jacket.

Barely able to breathe, Alexis turns back to Nightshroud and Red-Eyes Black Dragon. “Why do you have that card? What did you do to my brother?!”

“Your brother?” Bastion yelps but Alexis can’t focus on anything but the man in front of her.

Nightshroud pauses, head tilting. “Who? Sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about. This card has always been mine.”

“Liar!” Alexis screams, voice raw, chest heavy. “That card is a tournament exclusive!” Atticus gushed over it for weeks, showed it off at school, more excited about the card than winning the tournament. This is the first sign she’s seen of her brother in two years! This man has to know something!

“You dare call me a liar?” A dark bolt darts out at Nightshroud’s command and sends Alexis careening back. Her foot slips off the edge.

“ALEXIS!”

Jaden yanks her back by the arm with a grip hard enough to bruise, and Alexis startles at the absolute terror in his eyes. “Hey, not cool!” He swings back around to face Nightshroud, the bravado back in full force, but this time Alexis knows what it hides. “You’re dueling me! Leave them out of this!”

Nightshroud only snorts, a derisive sound. “Then duel me, since you want to save them so badly.”

Alexis is still close enough to see the cards as Jaden draws Polymerization and fusion summons Rampart Blaster to deal Nightshroud damage even from defense position. The shadows shiver as Nightshroud suffers the pain of his own shadow game, momentarily revealing brown hair.

“Feel like talking now, buddy?” Jaden taunts with a grin.

Nightshroud’s legs shake before he stands tall once again. “I already told you! This card has always been mine! I don’t know anything about the girl’s brother!” For a moment, the shadows obscuring his voice part and it sounds almost familiar.

Rampart Blaster’s defense proves futile as Nightshroud hits Jaden directly with the spell Inferno Fire Blast. The flames that engulf Jaden are far too real for any hologram, and Jaden sinks to his knees and nearly through the platform as it gives way beneath him. Christina and Syrus scramble to drag him back up as Bastion checks him over for serious injury.

“‘M fine.” Jaden tries to brush them off and stand on his own but immediately winces and sways.

“Fine my ass!” Christina hisses.

“I’m inclined to agree!” Bastion pushes up Jaden’s sleeve to reveal an angry red splotch. “You’re covered in blisters if not more severe burns!”

“We can worry about that later!” Jaden pries his hand free with another wince as Nightshroud uses his next monster to force Rampart Blaster into attack mode.

“Wait. No.” A cold spot appears in Alexis’ chest as she takes a step back. She recognizes more than one card Nightshroud has played. “It’s not just Red-Eyes... I think he has Atticus’ whole deck.”

“What?” Christina spins from where she stands to act as Jaden’s support.

“But how is that possible?” Chumley stammers.

“I don’t know!” Alexis snaps, shaking. She has this horrible, horrible feeling. No matter what Nightshroud claims, he must have done something to her brother and taken his deck. She never once let herself consider the possibility, because it meant giving up, it meant letting her grief win, but what if... “I-”

Syrus shrieks as the platform gives way underneath him, stumbling forward as Chumley catches and hauls him back to safety. Their safe places to stand are dwindling quickly. Jaden finishes his combo by fusion summoning Thunder Giant. The two monsters’ clash ends in a draw as both are destroyed, setting up Burstinatrix for a direct attack.

“Let’s see how you like it!”

Nightshroud barely flinches against the assault of flame as the shadows around him flicker and swell as if fending off the attack. Pouting, Jaden moves onto his next play then passes the turn to Nightshroud. Mirage Dragon takes the field and Alexis startles as Nightshroud refers to the dragon with feminine pronouns. That’s how Atticus always referred to that card. Most duelists default to masculine pronouns unless the card art is obviously feminine, but Atticus was different.

-“She just gives me, ‘cranky old lady’ vibes, ya know?”- Atticus said when Alexis asked. She hadn’t known, not all, what Atticus meant.

Atticus’ deck was one thing, but this particular quirk... It couldn’t be.

Jaden goes down again as Mirage Dragon takes out Burstinatrix; Christina drags him back to his feet and away as a new hole opens up in the platform. His next turn sees Elemental Hero Tempest take the field and obliterate Mirage Dragon. This time, Nightshroud flinches as the shadows scatter off his form; and even with that mask on his face, Alexis knows what she sees.

“ATTICUS?!”

“Hold on whut?” Jaden jerks, gaping at her.

Alexis starts forward and stumbles as her foot falls through another hole.

“And who the hell is that supposed to be?” Nightshroud growls, and it’s Atticus’ voice now that the shadowy echo no longer obscures it.

“You!” Pulling herself upright, Alexis watches the floor for holes as she continues forward. Her friends call after her but she ignores them. “I know that’s you, Atticus! You really think a dumb mask would make me not recognize my own brother?!”

“My name is Nightshroud-”

“Why are you doing this? Why are you a Shadow Rider? What happened to you, Atticus?!”

“Lexi!!”

She manages to duck this time before the darkness strikes her, elbows banging hard against the platform. The breath shudders out of her and she realizes she’s crying.

“I don’t know you, little girl.”

It hurts. It hurts so much. She found him but like this and he doesn’t even know who she is. A hand on her shoulder alerts her to one of her friends, unsurprised to find Christina kneeling next to her. “It’s him...” Alexis whispers brokenly as Christina pulls her up.

“I know.”

“Why is he...” she hiccups, unable to finish the sentence. Christina squeezes her finger as she leads Alexis safely back to their friends.

Atticus summons Red-Eyes back to the field with Red-Eyes Chick’s ability then trades it in for a card Alexis has never seen before - Red-Eyes Darkness Dragon. Darkness. Nightshroud. That thing has her brother and she needs to figure out how to get him back from its clutches. Jaden ends the turn with Negate Attack, surviving to the next round. He hesitates as he draws his next card, then plays Wroughtweiler in defense and switches Tempest to defense.

“Jay?” Christina sends him a look.

“I honestly don’t have any other plays right now,” Jaden says, voice low as he glances back at her. “Besides, if that’s Lexi’s brother... Doesn’t the loser of this duel die?”

Alexis breathes in sharply. Christina hisses through her teeth.

“But what if winning gets rid of whatever is controlling him,” Bastions says. “Assuming he’s been possessed by some sort of dark power.”

“Yeah, maybe, but-”

“Jaden.” Alexis forces the words out as he turns to look at her, those eyes so full of compassion and concern. “If you lose, we all die. We can worry about the rest of it later.”

Jaden flinches. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m not!” Alexis loses the battle against her emotions as a fresh wave of tears overtakes her. “But what other choice do we have?”

Jaden stares at her a moment longer before turning back to face his opponent as Atticus attacks Wroughtweiler with Spear Dragon. He activates Wroughtweiler’s effect and goes down with a scream as his Life Points drop because Spear Dragon deals damage even if the monster it battles is in defense. Still, Jaden gets to add Sparkman and Polymerization back to his hand and gets back to his feet with a little help. Not that it does much good. The force of Tempest’s destruction sends him reeling back into Bastion, and Bastion yelps as the ground threatens to cave under their combined weight. Between the four of them, they manage to keep their friends on stable ground, but Jaden looks like he’s barely conscious at this point. With 600 Life Points left and their safety net looking like swiss cheese, Alexis glances at the lava below and turns back to her brother.

“Enough! Enough, Atticus! This duel is over!” she declares with all the fire she can muster. “You want a Spirit Key so badly, then you can have mine!” Ignoring the startled outburst from her friends, she pulls the object from its place around her neck and holds it out. “You said it works if it’s given freely, right? Let my friends go, and you can have it!”

“Alexis...” Jaden rasps, held upright by Christina’s arm. Alexis never looks away from her brother.

Atticus scoffs. “While I’m flattered that you’d give me your Key willingly, I’m afraid just one Key won’t do. I want them all.” His voice darkens, distorts into something unrecognizable again as the shadows rise up and cling to him. “Wait your turn, little girl. I’ll duel you next.”

“Atticus!” Alexis pleads, except this time she knows she’s not talking to her brother anymore - if she ever was - but this thing that’s taken over him.

“Make your move, Key keeper. If you can.”

Pulling his arm off Christina’s shoulders, Jaden glares his opponent down. “Oh, I can. And I’m winning this duel!”

“But you can barely sta-AAAAAA!” Syrus screams as he falls entirely through the platform. Alexis dives, catching his hand as Bastion grabs the other. Together they haul him back up while Jaden watches, pale as a sheet.

“Whatever you’re about to do, do it fast!” Chumley clasps his hand together, legs shaking so hard Alexis is surprised he still stands.

“Right!” With Christina’s hand on his shoulder, Jaden draws his card.

The combo he gets off next is a spectacular comeback. Atticus hits his knees with a scream as darkness rolls off his form in waves, and Alexis runs for him without a second thought. She doesn’t get far before the dark platform vanishes completely from beneath her feet. She has a single terrifying moment to think, This is how we die, before a bright golden light engulfs her.

When she opens her eyes again, she pushes herself off the cold, rocky ground of the mountainside while Syrus and Chumley cry over not being dead.

"What was that light? It looked like it came from your deck," Bastion murmurs, and something glows faintly as Christina shuffles through her cards with a frown, Jaden slumped against her.

Alexis spares them only a glance as she continues straight for her brother, collapsed face down on the ground feet in front of her. “Atticus!” She drops to her knees and rolls him to face her.

His eyes flutter briefly open. “Who...?” he mumbles weakly before his head lulls again, and Alexis fears the worst as she searches for his pulse. It flutters under her fingers, slow but strong, and she finally releases the breath she’d be holding. It comes out a sob.

“Is he...?” Bastion ventures closer, not daring to finish the inquiry.

“He’s alive...” Alexis breathes, cradling her brother close as another voice breaches the mountain air.

“Heeeey! What’s going on over here?!”

Alexis looks up as Zane and Chazz come running. “Zane. Zane!” she calls, heedless to how broken her voice is and doesn’t miss the way Zane immediately speeds up. “It’s him! It’s Atticus!” She holds her brother closer as Zane freezes in his tracks, face flooding with shock. “I found him...”

“What-” Zane croaks as he kneels next to them slowly, and reaches out like he expects Atticus to disappear under his fingers. The emotions that play out over his face when his hand lands on Atticus’ shoulder are too complicated to name. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.”

They sit in silence like that for another moment, just soaking in that Atticus is back. Then Zane shifts to slide his arms under Atticus’ limp form. “Here.” Nodding, Alexis moves aside to let Zane lift Atticus into his arms. Some distance away, her friends hoist an unconscious Jaden onto Chumley’s back.

“If he looks this bad after winning, I don’t wanna know what losing looks like,” Chazz gripes.

“That?” Syrus points hesitantly at Atticus.

“What?”

Zane sends Alexis a sharp look. “He was a Shadow Rider,” Alexis whispers, and glances away as Zane’s expression breaks again. “He didn’t recognize me. That’s all I know.”

“Okay,” Zane says at length and they begin the long trek down the mountain.

Alexis still has so many questions...and fears. She once thought finding her brother would make everything okay again, but now... Now she’s scared this is only the beginning rather than the end she sought. What if he wakes up and still doesn’t recognize her? Can she handle that? Can she handle learning what turned him into a Shadow Rider? Her hand fists itself into Zane’s coat tail. If he notices, he doesn’t comment.

#gxmonth2021 #alexis rhodes #tenjoin asuka #tenjoin fubuki #atticus rhodes #nightshroud #jaden yuki #syrus truesdale #chumley huffington #bastion misawa #chazz princeton #zane truesdale #ygo gx #yugioh gx #yu gi oh gx #long post

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thequeenb · 4 years

Text

The Devil's Tango

Poppy x MC

Warning: Smut

Poppy straddles my lap and my breath catches. She could certainly sit on a chair, she has chairs doesn't she? Yes there is one right there, why did she--

"Hm, your makeup looks decent but i will be glad to wipe it off" Poppy says running a make up wipe across my face smoothly and honestly? She is so gentle my heart might explode. She is focused on her task but all i can focus on is her beautiful sight

What is actually happening? But of course i have no time to process anything

"This is a lot, i don't think we have that much time to go through all of them?" I ask and she rolls her eyes

"Of course not Farmsville. My cousin from Korea sent me a package with the finest skincare products and honestly? You could use some"

Ugh even with her on top of me she is being sarcastic. A part of me screams to get up and leave but her body is warm against mine and her expensive perfume makes my senses dizzy

"Let me know if it burns" she casually says and i open my mouth to protest and of course she ignores my attempts. I close my eyes ready to feel pain but its actually so refreshing

"Wow..it doesn't burn its.. actually amazing" i say stunned

"Then you are welcome, skincare routine doesn't exist in your life huh?"

Wow. For the first time i don't care about her attitude, for the first time i am so overwhelmed by what's happening that I don't have time to process how i feel because my mind goes blank and all i can think of is ripping her clothes off

I lock eyes with her and i see her questionable expression. Her eyes are dark with desire and this is the most sexy thing i have seen in months. I want to say something, break this awkward silence but instead i grip at her hips hard, pressing our bodies together

"Oh? Is that why you have been quiet?" She raises her eyebrow and gosh i feel like i cant even respond to something that simple.

Without a second thought i lean forward capturing her lips with mine and oh my, they are so soft and glossy. Her cherry lipgloss leaves a sweet taste in my mouth and I can't stop myself

Suddenly she pulls back and i shudder at the loss of contact but then i notice how Poppy's eyes sparkle under the lights

"Are you sure you can handle me Farmsville?"

Honestly i have no idea but she is on top of me like a greek goddess and even though my mind screams no, my body screams yes! And thats exactly what comes out of my mouth

"Yes, bring it on"

As soon i say these words Poppy and i undress eachother falling back in the soft mattress. She pins my hands above my head as she kisses me fiercely. Her tongue is dancing against mine, my lip is caught between her teeth but then again she pulls back smirking

"Stop being a jerk and kiss me" i manage to say breathless

Her eyes are eating me up and i haven't felt so sexy my whole life. She runs her warm palms up and down my thighs and i sigh happily

"I can't believe you hid this body underneath garbage" before i can even respond she reaches out in her nightstand and for a minute i think she is going to bail out

"Let's have fun shall we?" Is that? Poppy Min-Sinclair you kinky bitch. She is holding a pink vibrator in her hands with a smirk on her face. If you told me that i would be in Poppy's bed with her on top of me ready to fuck our brains out when i first got here i would have laughed at your face. But oh my, reality is sweet

I sit back completely at her mercy as she licks my neck. I hear a loud click and then i can feel the vibrator against my thighs. It's on the lowest mode because she is such a tease as always. She cups one of my breasts and nip at it hard as i moan loudly

"You have been a very bad girl Bea"

Did she just..?

I shudder against her and my mouth is open holding back a loud scream. The way she says my name is so addictive and needy. Her tone is teasing to a point my knees go weak

"Oh do you like when i say your name?" She bites my jaw as her free hand hold me firmly by the neck. I open my eyes and i watch her stare down at me like i am the most precious thing in the world

In response i arch up, grinding my hips against her and she closes her eyes in pleasure. She slowly guides the vibrator between my legs and when she connects where i need her the most i gasp

"Oh Poppy!" I scream but she is quick to kiss me hard. Our kisses are messy and passionate and it makes me wonder where this desire comes from

I reach for her underwear and she squeezes my neck tighter, gosh i am so wet for her. I place my hand underneath her panties and oh wow she is excited. I watch as she groan calling out my name with her melodic voice

"Oh Bea, yes" hearing my name come out from her lips makes me want to please her more. My hand works between her legs in rhythmical movements and i know she is on the edge

Soon we both shake as ecstasy takes over my whole body. I grab a fist full of her expensive sheets trying not to scream so loud. I say her name like a prayer and her eyes are hungry with desire.

She lays next to me and i really don't know what to say but i turn my head to face her regardless. She is bright red trying to control her breathing. She rests the vibrator on the nightstand and i watch her walk towards the bathroom, she doesn't say a thing but the open door is an open invitation.

I follow her and i watch her fill her extremely big bathtub with hot water and essential oils. Wow taking care of her self is no joke

I caress her back pulling her against me by the waist. I wrap my arms around her as she sighs "So that happened" she says dipping her feet in the bathtub to taste the water

I murmur against her neck lazily not wanting this to end. I came here to get dirt on her and i ended up doing the dirty with her. My mind is racing, rethinking how i feel about Poppy but then she gives me her hand pulling me towards the bathtub

I wash her back kissing her neck as i do so and she covers her face with her hands. Wow is she really shy? After what she did to me?

"You cant tell anyone about this" she whispers almost embarrassed but then she reaches behind holding one of my hands "Because they will not understand"

"I promise" i breath out focusing on massaging her shoulders

"No one stays after our hookup"

"I am not just a no one then" i smile thinking how many had the opportunity to see this side of Poppy but instead preferred to just use her for their desire

"You are lucky i wont upload this video of you making pig noises" she laughs freely and my hand freezes

"What now?" I go still wondering how much she had to dig to find something so bad about me

"Oh please, it was hilarious. Besides i told you i wont upload it"

So she really has that much power huh? She can find anything about anyone. For a moment i stay silent thinking her words carefully. I am trying to find something to give in that this is a trap but she is sincere and real with me and all i can do is smile at our progress

"Good. Because then i would had to leak your little hook up with Cl--" but she turns around throwing shampoo at me

"Ouch!" And just like that the bathroom is filled with our laughter and honestly? Poppy isn't that bad, at least behind closed doors and i cant wait to crack these ice walls down and see where this goes.

Tag list: @lolimugly @origmansello @greatestflirt-hero @mvalentine @otakufangirl-12 @sugarplumpnhoneybun @princessstellaris @indecisive-choices @i-loveeveryone @kiara-36 @ognenniyvolk @somewillwin @ghalind @it-lives-in-braidwood-manor @sergeant-pepper-loves-choices @dibberdipper @tyrils-star @justastranger-passing @witchesplayatnight

#queen b #queen b poppy #poppy x mc #poppy min sinclair #play choices #choices fic #choices fanfiction #my fics #pb choices #choices #pb

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beggingwolf · 3 years

Text

not to show the mess behind the curtain too much, but yes to show the mess behind the curtain:

I'm a little sad that sid is back to Person Mode in the LBW-verse because personally I enjoy lacking-filters-dog sid getting in geno's way. even though the story needs to move on and geno and sid need to interact person-to-person in order to start Resolving Things, I miss wolf!sid, so I'm about to indulge myself in a drabble that I'm literally writing in the tumblr post. will it be good? no promises. all I can promise is that it'll have grungy wolf sid and zhenya.

Zhenya wakes up to teeth pressing into his calf.

"Sid?" he asks hazily, tilting his head to see Sid with his jaws gently wrapped around Zhenya's skinny leg. The points of his teeth just barely dig into Zhenya's skin and muscle.

Sid gnaws a tad more before pulling away, and Zhenya makes a face as Sid's tongue scrapes against his Achilles tendon.

"Hi," Zhenya grouses. Sid peers at him, his large ears tilted in a clear emotional signal that Zhenya simply can't read.

Zhenya sits up with a groan, ducking out of the way of the bar and rolling his neck. He'd been taking a break between sets of bench presses and he'd closed his eyes, just for a second.

They'd gotten back from their California roadtrip a day ago. Zhenya had driven through the winding roads back to his house and Sid had been waiting for him on his front steps. He'd spent the week with Pascal's family—Zhenya had pestered him about needing somewhere to go during the roadie until Sid started growling at him, and eventually Carole-Lyne had called Zhenya and told him to kick Sid out.

Sid hadn't taken kindly to it, but all had been forgiven. Or, at least, he'd seemed happy enough to see Zhenya again, if his slowly-wagging tail had been any indication.

Zhenya is normally decent at recuperating from jetlag—he flies around too often not to be—but this time it had been harder. His hotel bed had started to feel entirely too empty, and he resented that he missed the warm touch of fur and Sid's stray limbs that twitched as he dreamed. Zhenya had slept poorly the last few nights in California, despite the saltwater air and the comfortable heat and the fucking amazing ability to stretch out in his hotel bed and jerk off shamelessly.

He'd slept like a rock last night, with Sid pressed warm and steady against his side.

"Just nap little bit," he murmurs to Sid, trying to wave him away, but Sid keeps his golden gaze trained on Zhenya.

Zhenya rubs his hands over his face and then into his hair with a sigh. He ducks down to grab his phone, and he's just past his lockscreen when he catches Sid leaning forward, his mouth starting to open again.

"No," Zhenya tells him, jerking his knee away from Sid's threatening mouth. "No more bite. You gonna hurt mouth."

Sid keeps leaning forward, though, and he gently snags the loose material of Zhenya's athletic shorts on his fang.

"Stop," Zhenya tells him, and Sid ever so lightly tugs.

Zhenya levels him with a flat, unimpressed look, and Sid's ears fold back against his skull in a displeased expression. He doesn't growl, just locks his teeth together and tugs once more.

"Outside?" Zhenya asks balefully. When he gets up, Sid relinquishes his hold and waits for Zhenya to take the first step.

He herds Zhenya away from the front door and up the stairs, and when he tries to butt Zhenya into his own bed, Zhenya puts on the breaks.

"I'm all sweaty, gross," he complains, and Sid snorts.

Zhenya narrows his eyes, because that sure sounded like an expression of disbelief, and he knows he hates doing weights and doesn't go that hard on them, but he'd had nothing better to do and Sid had just kept following him from room to room and his silent gaze had been making Zhenya's stomach do flips and Zhenya had needed a distraction better than the TV or CS:GO.

His wildly underused weight room had seemed like the best option at the time.

He could have gone out for dinner, but he doesn't want to leave Sid alone either, even if his pride won't let him admit it.

He successfully pushes past Sid to duck into the bathroom, shutting the door in Sid's face before Sid can dig his teeth into any other tender parts of Zhenya's body and heart.

His sweat has dried on his skin, and the part of his leg where Sid's mouth had been feels even grimier, like he'd been licking it. Zhenya showers himself off quickly, and when he emerges, Sid is waiting in bed.

Zhenya's heart lets out a pulse that's part pain and part pleasure, and he ducks into his closet to yank on a pair of sweats.

Sid lets out a few sounds of displeasure at Zhenya's still-damp skin, but it doesn't stop him from resting his muzzle against Zhenya.

He lets the full weight of his head settle onto Zhenya, his jaw pressing fully into Zhenya's skin. Zhenya can feel the clean line of his jawbone—it's healed now, at least in this form, he's sure of it. It makes complicated emotions flutter in his gut and he pushes them away, down, where they'll stay caged until Sid is gone and he'll finally let himself grieve over this.

For now, though, Zhenya pays attention to the gusting breaths against his skin, fluttering over his patchy body hair. Sid's lungs are smaller in this body than they are in his human one, and his breaths go in and out quicker than Zhenya's. Zhenya still tries to sync his inhales to Sid's when he can, and Sid rolls his head, pressing the side of his face into Zhenya as well. He's blood-hot. Zhenya wants to be wrapped around him. He wants Sid to swallow him whole.

Sid's put him to bed again, and Zhenya doesn't have the strength to pretend he doesn't want it.

#little broken wolf #drabble

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bibliocratic · 4 years

Text

For @babtest, who asked for the prompt: Martin showing normal, genuine human anger.

Jon/Martin, set in a nebulous post-160 AU. Cws in the tags.

“And if you want me to call – ”

“I know, I'll send a message.”

“And if you don't feel safe, or you want out of there, there doesn't have to be a reason – ”

“Jon.”

“I'll have the phone on me in case – ”

“Jon,” Martin snaps, and his voice is saw-toothed, edged with an irritation that serves as a defensive carapace to his nerves. “It's – it's fine, he's probably not going to be there anyway, this whole thing is going to be a waste, s-so would you please stop fussing, for – ” He releases a grunt of annoyance but tries to muster some calm, breathing with heavy huffing sounds. “I just need... this bloody Christ, this tie – ”

Martin's made a knot-eyed strangle-hold mess of it in his rush, and he tugs angrily at it, making it worse.

“Do you want me to – ?”

“No, I don't! Would you just let me do it! God forbid I be able to do it myself.”

Martin's voice raises to a shout that dips into a hollow of passive aggressive sniping. Jon stills, steps back from where he's been moving into Martin's space and crowding him, and tries not too feel too hurt, pushes down the knee-jerk cutting responses that will neither be helpful or deserved.

Martin tussles with the tie for a few more vicious seconds, his smart shirt having been tucked, untucked and re-tucked again and taking on a rumpled, disturbed pattern. He finally breathes out again, a heavy, weighted breath, closing his eyes. He takes a few calculated, noticeably deeper inhales and exhales that Jon recognises as the deep breathing his therapist taught him. Jon lets him tide through it.

“I'm sorry for snapping,” Martin says lowly, roughly. “I didn't mean – I'm not handling this very well. That's no reason to take it out on you.”

“Considering how many times I was short with you, you probably still have a surplus until we're even close to equal,” Jon replies, trying for levity. Martin wrings the abused tie miserably in his hands, and Jon wishes that this was easier, that this wasn't drawing out all of Martin's embedded poisons, his anxieties he's long laboured to conquer.

“Can you – Will you help? With the tie?” Martin says in a smaller voice, and Jon takes a step into Martin's unhappy orbit, and removes it gently from his hands.

“Of course,” he replies. “If you want to wear it. But you – Martin, you look good without it. And you hate ties.”

The last time he'd worn one was at his mum's funeral, Jon both knows and Knows. He hadn't been able to tie it then either.

“I want – ” Martin says, looking frustrated when the words don't come as easily as he desires. “It looks professional, yeah? Smart? I don't want to look – do I look like I'm, I dunno, trying too hard? It's – huh – it's only a cafe, right, not the bloody Ritz or something – will it, do you think it'll look too desperate?”

Jon touches Martin's arm with his hand. Martin's fidgeting with his shirt sleeves, the buttons at the cuffs, keeps tugging them down like he's worried they're not long enough. He twists and twists and twists his wedding ring and bleeds out nerves like a weather front stagnating in fog, and Jon selfishly wants him to cancel.

“You'll look fine,” he replies. “Smart, and put-together. And I'll think you look handsome, but that's by the by.” That coaxes Martin's lips to twitch. “But you don't... you don't have to wear it, if it's going to... if you're uncomfortable in it. Especially if you think not wearing it will make him disapprove or some nonsense.”

Martin huffs a sound that's the verbal equivalent of a long-suffering eye-roll.

“Spooky mind-reader strikes again, huh.”

“Fear my psychic powers,” Jon dead-pans, and Martin chuffs another one of those aborted half-laughs. Then, quieter, softer. “Want me to help with it?”

“I – I think I'll leave it,” Martin responds finally, with a nod to himself. “It's a Costa anyway, I'm just going to look like a hipster anyway in this shirt.”

“It's that and the beard,” Jon agrees, rubbing his hand at the thick scratchy weave of it until Martin bats his hand away with a 'get off you'. “Do you need your umbrella?”

“ 's only ten minutes down the road, should be alright.”

“You get caught in a downpour, it's your own fault.”

Martin's lips do actually quirk in a smile then, finding the grooves of their light-hearted bickering as a comforting oft-replayed melody.

“Your compassion never ceases to astound me.”

“You didn't have to marry me.”

“Not like any one else was going to do the job.”

“How noble and public-spirited of you.”

Jon kisses Martin's lips briefly, raising himself up on socked tip-toes. Martin's hand slots into his, faintly trembling.

“Whatever you decide, I'll support your decision,” he says in the tight woven space of their bodies. “Even if this isn't what you want, or even if it is.”

Martin nods, and returns a dry, bristly kiss in return before he heads out.

It starts spitting with rain not a minute later.

Jon has not been blessed with an abundance of patience. Martin's meeting is at half two, but he checks his phone at obsessive intervals, watching the screen lighten and the clock on analogue mode work through the grinding seconds. In case Martin's changed his mind. In case he wants out, doesn't want to do this. In case he was stood up, or is sat alone because there was some problem with traffic, or, or, or.

Jon, half-heartedly, tries a great number of things to distract himself, and to avoid any instances of Knowing. After an hour, he's given channel-hopping a go – watching five minutes of a mid-afternoon western, and then ten minutes of a reality show about buying houses on the coast and renovating them. (Martin loves these types of programmes, and in the spirit of them is trying to doggedly renovate the front hall. Meaning that any time Jon wants to go to the front door, he has to pick his way over old blankets thrown down to protect the flooring from paint drips, Martin's small forest of tester pots and paint pots and drying brushes).

Martin's got a window seat – the window misted with condenseness, some child has imprinted a pudgy hand as a calling card – has ordered a mocha – over-sugared, tacky in his mouth, he regrets the choice immediately –

SHUT UP, Jon fumes at himself, and tries to read, manages a few pages before he's struck with the frisson of Martin's spiking anxiety every time the ding of the cafe door pipes up, and stomps into the kitchen to occupy his mind by making himself an unappetizing lunch that he doesn't even want to eat.

His phone remains silent. Jon fights the powerful urge to send a brief check-up message, a little everything going ok? but stops himself. Martin's going to have enough on his plate.

Jon frets and waits for him to come home.

–

There's the plaintive squeak of the front gate (Martin will need to oil it again), and Jon sits up from where he's been petting the cat and poorly playing one of Martin's hand-held console games. He's been on the same level for about an hour now, and stubbornness is preventing him from giving it up as a lost cause.

The pad of two footsteps.

“You've – the flowers are nice. That you've got growing.”

“Thanks. It's not really – it's more Jon than me. He's pretty green-fingered.” The footsteps peter out. “So – er, well, this is me, heh. Close by.”

“Time really flew, huh.”

“Yeah. T-thanks for the, thanks for the coffee – ”

“Don't mention – ”

“ – and for the walk back – ”

“ – You can keep the umbrella, if you – ”

“N-no, it's, it's fine.”

The conversation stalls and splutters like an engine with the wrong fuel. Jon's moved out into the hallway, the cat restless but demanding in his arms, and sees the blurred bulk of Martin's stiff shoulders in the frosted glass pane of their front door, set high like he's shoved his hands into his pockets.

Jon skirts around the paint pots to get nearer.

“So,” the other voice – and it's so similar, strikes the same gulleys and furrows, the stop-and-start of thoughts eking their way out into expression, and it wrong-foots Jon to hear it, the ill-matching echo of it. “I – I'll see you again? If you, that is – I really liked... It was good. To catch up, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Martin says, and he sounds wrung out, straining on some mental rack he's internalised. “It was. Yeah. It was good to see you.”

“You want to do coffee again, sometime?”

“I – er. Maybe. Maybe.”

The first fuzz of hurt creeps to moss over the over-eager nervousness of the other voice. “Oh. Er, yeah. S-sure. That's... it's not a problem. Why, why maybe?”

Martin's hackles go up defensively. “I'm not sure, alright?”

“Was everything ok?”

“I guess relatively?”

“What's that mean?”

“Relatively as in, it's been thirty years, there's a few things to iron out after all that. Hence the, y'know, the maybe.”

“Right,” comes the response. “I am – you know I am trying here.”

Martin's voice goes low and flat and judgemental.

“And how long until you lose interest this time?”

There's a punch of silence. The cat buts against Jon's chin. Through the vague blurring of the glass, Martin shifts in that way of his, when he says something he wishes he hasn't, but he makes no move to take it back.

Half beseeching, half reproachful: “That's not fair, Marty.”

It was the wrong thing to say.

“It's Martin,” Martin replies, blistering with something bubbling to the forefront. “It's Martin, not Marty. I'm not – I'm not a child any more, so you can just – just drop that.” He scoffs a breath, and it's hard and hurt and deliberate. “And no, it wasn't fair. But neither was you leaving. So guess we're equal.”

“I – I tried to explain,” the other man starts, a heat of his own starting to shade indignant.

“And it was bollocks – ”

“It's the truth!”

“It wasn't good enough!”

“Your mother, she was – ”

“She was ill! She was sick and you knew, you knew she was just going to get sicker, and so you cut your losses and you legged it.”

“It wasn't like that – ”

“I was eight!” Martin snarls, and there's no pausing in his words any more, no careful consideration, it's a scatter-gun of words he's had secured in his chest for a long time now. “What the fuck sort of parent leaves an eight year old in that sort of house, with that sort of responsibility? What the hell kind of a life did you think I'd have?!”

“She had – you had aunts and uncles! They were, nearby, they were always cluttering up the house, popping round. I thought – I thought if, when she got really bad, they'd take you in!”

“She cut everyone out! What a stupid – you knew her! She hated anything that felt like pity, she was proud and she didn't want anyone to see her as she got worse. You think she'd have accepted someone implying she couldn't care for her son? No. And eventually it was – it was only us, and you know what, she hated me for it. Because I looked so much like you! Because everything I did, everything I ever did was just a reminder of how much she hated you for leaving.”

“I didn't – ” The response is regret-mired, apologetic, but Martin doesn't want to hear it. “I couldn't have known that...”

“No,” Martin replies, his voice all venom and hurt. “But it's not like you checked, did you? Pop in, see how I was doing. A visit o-or a letter in the post, o-or something! Christ, you didn't even come to the bloody funeral!”

“I.. No one told me! I found out she'd... she'd passed about a month back. I swear, Marty – Martin, sorry. I swear, I didn't know.”

“And now here you are.”

“I wanted to – I wanted to make amends! To be a better, a better father to you.”

“I'm nearly forty, dad,” Martin snipes unkindly, his throat thick. “What makes you think I need you now?” He sniffs, his words damper than he'd like. “Thirty years is a long time to wait to try and play happy families again.”

“Martin, I. Look, I had a lot of problems. Back then. For a long time. I'm not saying them as an excuse – ”

“Then don't say them,” Martin cuts him off. “I don't – I don't want to hear them. I... just. Don't.”

The conversation dies abruptly. There's a horrible, terminal sort of quiet to it.

“I'm going to go,” Martin says, his tone sanded down to quiet exhaustion. “I've got – Jon'll be waiting and I – I can't do this any more.”

“Right,” Kenneth Blackwood replies with an equal tone. “I'm staying, I'm nearby if you want to – I hope to see you again, Martin.”

Martin doesn't reply. Jon has enough warning of the looming shadow in the door to skitter back as Martin uses his key to twist the lock open.

His face is ruddy, splotchy with patches of red. His eyes wet.

“Guess you heard some of that, yeah?” he bites out bitterly on seeing Jon, tugging off his coat.

“Some,” Jon admits honestly, and Martin shakes his head like he's trying to knock something loose, throws his coat over the banister head, pulling off his scarf and balling it up and chucking it in the corner by the door like it's wronged him.

“What a fucking – It was a mistake, I knew I knew it was a bad idea, me and my stupid bloody – playing the bleeding heart idiot again as per fucking usual.”

“Did it, did go badly?” Jon asks, putting the cat down and skirting the edges of Martin's return, watching him pull off his shoes unlaced and slam them into the shoe pile into the corner.

“Absolutely fabulous!” he responds with a false bitter cheer that tinges yellowed and sick. He's not calming down. His hand threading through his hair, his face continuing to redden with an angry heat, eyes welling up. “He's so bloody sincere and apologetic and what the – what am I supposed to do with that now? Where were all his sorries then, where was he when I wanted to hear them?”

Martin plows on, clearly not wanting answers.

“A-and he was so interested, wanted to see our wedding pictures, and kept asking so so many questions like it was a job interview or something – what are you doing? What do you like doing? What are your hobbies? How long have you and Jon been together? – a-and, like, I couldn't help thinking that it's none of his – he wasn't there, he doesn't get to be all friendly like he didn't just walk out. And! And then!” Martin's voice rises to a furious damp crest, throwing his hands about. “Then he wants to share! He had pictures on him and his new wife and new kids – a-and mum, she always, she always said he hadn't wanted a family, hadn't wanted to be a dad, didn't want the responsibility that'd fall on him when she got sick. But he was so happy! So I don't – what am I meant to think of that? I don't know, I mean, was it lies she told me, how much was the truth, and how much did she twist like she did everything else?”

Martin sniffs loudly. “He got married a year after he left mum, and they're still together. His other kids are finishing uni or they've got cushy jobs in the financial district, and h-he was showing me and he sounded so... god, he was so proud of them.” Martin wipes at his eyes. “S-so that's, that's just great.”

“Martin...” Jon starts, despairing, listening to the croak in his voice, the way it keeps catching, the hitching jagged rise of his breathing.

“No. No, don't you get it, it's clear as fucking crystal. Because he wanted a family, yeah, he wanted kids he could dote on and take to the park and play football with. He just didn't want me, did he? And what the hell was s-so wrong with me?! I wasn't – I wasn't a bad kid, I was quiet and I kept out of trouble, and there's no, no reason he couldn't have taken me with him when he left. S-so what was so wrong with me?” Martin's shoulders are starting to shake. “Why – why wasn't I enough for him?”

Jon surges in as Martin bursts into angry bitter tears. Sobbing into Jon's jumper, fisting his hands into the hem of it, repeating snatches of recrimination and confusion over and over. Jon tries to tell him that he's enough, that he's always been enough, that he's so so loved, but Martin can't hear over his own hitching breaths, the sea swell of his grief.

Jon just holds him and waits for the tide to go out.

–

The doorbell rings around nine o'clock, and Jon Knows who's at the door.

Martin stirs under the twisted covers with a questioning noise, but Jon shushes him.

“It's the postman,” he lies. “I'll get it.”

Martin hums.

“Put the kettle on?” he asks sleepily, as though he won't be back snoring in a minute. Jon promises he will regardless, manoeuvring himself out of the heat-packed bed and Martin's loose grip, slipping on his slippers and a shirt.

He opens the door with his most imperious of gazes already set on his face.

Martin is there. Or, a man uncanny in resemblance. He shifts his weight from foot to foot like Martin does, has the same nervous twitch in the flutter of his hands. His skin is more weathered, maybe, has built up a collection of lines Martin hasn't sourced out just yet, a further progression to the receding hairline that's beginning to retreat back at Martin's temples.

“I – um, is Martin in?”

“Yes.”

“Can – would I be able to – ?”

“No,” Jon replies. “He's still asleep.”

It's taken for the denial it's meant to be. Kenneth Blackwood makes an 'oh, right' with the same ringing nervous cast to his movements that Martin had when he first came to the Archives.

“It's...” he starts tentatively, and politely does not have his gaze stray too long on the scars on his hand, his face, his throat. “It's Jon, isn't it?”

“Jonathan Blackwood,” he responds, feeling the odd need to stake the territory here. “I'm Martin's husband.”

“Oh!” Kenneth replies, a little surprised “That's... that's good. I didn't know you took his name when you got.... That's... that's great.”

“It's a good name,” Jon responds, and his father gives a sad, crooked look.

“Not sure Martin would agree with you.”

“It's not my place to comment,” Jon counters, and Kenneth nods and replies with a: “Yeah. No, no, you're right.”

The cat has come up to the door out of curiosity and nudges at the back of his legs before deciding to stay indoors. Jon clears his throat, feeling the nip of early morning under the thin cotton of his nightwear.

“I wanted to – ” Kenneth Blackwood starts. “I wanted to apologise. I didn't keep a cool head yesterday, and he – he deserved my honesty, not my defensiveness.”

Jon gives nothing else, and Kenneth Blackwood continues, clearly grateful for the conversational opening.

“Look, I'm – I have to head back today. I live up near Preston these days. But I hoped – Can I leave my number? I know I shouldn't have pushed so hard. It was a lot to expect. He doesn't...” He makes a half-sigh. “Martin doesn't have to call. I won't contact him again, if that's what he wants. I just – I'm there. If he wants to give me the chance to get to know him again. But if he doesn't.... I understand.”

Jon takes the piece of card offered.

“I'll give it to him,” he says, firmly but not unkindly, and then gives a nod. “Drive back safe, Mr Blackwood.”

He takes it for the dismissal it is meant to be, and he returns the nod. Shoves his hands in his pockets to stave off the chill of the morning as he leaves.

Jon closes the front door with an unobtrusive click, pockets the card he was given. Pauses for a moment, listening to the lull of the house, the rumble of snoring upstairs. Then he makes his way past pots and paintbrushes into the kitchen to make Martin a cup of tea.

#the magnus archives #martin blackwood #fic #prompt #cw parental abandonment #cw emotional abuse #cw intense emotional outbursts #cw poor parent-child relationships #jonmartin #angst #some domestic fluff #this is kinda heavy so if you want me to add more tags #please tell me #i wasn't sure how to word them

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eerythingisshaka · 4 years

Text

The Bodyguard

[Jason Momoa x Reader]

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: no smut, but does discuss an attempted drugging

His fingers dig into your arm painfully as you try to release yourself from the stranger’s grasp.

“Fuck off and let go of me!” you yell at him as loud as you can but the club’s music drowns your voice out from others around you being able to hear your distress.

When he takes you past security up front, he gives them a smile that at first won you over.

“Can you believe chicks these days? Wanna party all night long when their kid is up waiting for them. Let’s go hun!” The brawny security guard looks from him to you suspiciously but lets you both pass without incident. Out on the street, you kick him in the knee, finally getting freedom as he bounces off rubbing his bruised joint.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” he shouts at you with anger in his eyes.

You root around your clutch for your phone, shaking to open it up. “I’m not the one with the problem. I know you put something in my drink. I’m not stupid!”

This catches the attention of the security guard you passed in front of the club.

“Hey Carlos, come work the door, I have a disturbance to check out.” He walks up to your side. “Is he causing your problems, ma’am?”

You hold your phone to your ear waiting in 911 to pick up. “Yes! He is a fucking pervert who wants to fuck unconcious women!”

The guy looks nervous;y around him. “Hey, shut up! I don’t even know you for you to accuse me-”

“He bought me a drink and thought I wasn’t looking but something was floating in it when I almost took a sip. I gave it to the bartender and had them call the cops. Fuckface can’t stir, stupid bitch!”

The guy walks up to you pointing at your face. “You’re gonna quit fucking talking to me like that or-”

The security guard, lays out a long strong arm in front of you, cutting him off. “You wanna try that with me first man?”

He looks up at security with annoyance. “I’m not talking to you, George of the Jungle, I’m talking to this b-”

Just as 911 began to ask what was your emergency, security had him by his throat, walking him away from you.

“You talk a lot for a little guy. And I don’t have a lot of patience for talk. So since my shift is ending soon, I’d like to end it without incident. Do you wanna create one?”

Security drops him to the ground to writhe like a slug on salt.

You hang up on 911 and run up on the pervert, kicking him for good measure. “How you like not breathing when you want to BITCH! You’re a damn piece of shit, stay down!”

Security pulls you back gently but you rear back from his touch, causing him to retreat.

“I’m on your side. But you can’t beat his ass here, plus cops are on the way.”

On cue, you hear the whir of sirens far off, but getting louder by the second.

“Shit! I can’t get a ride in time before the cops get here.”

Security looks back at his buddy Carlos working the door and gives him a thumbs up, which he returns.

He looks back at you tentatively. “Feel free to say no but-”

“Can you give me a ride? Just to get me out of here before the cops get here.”

He blinks a couple times taken aback but mutters in agreement. You turn back to the pervert and kick him once more before running off ahead.

“Hey! My truck’s around back!” he yells after you.

Riding passenger to his pick up you sit closest to the window as possible, nearly facing him. He’s clearly unnerved as he drives, gripping the steering wheel tight. You notice the geometric tattoo poking from under his leather moto sleeve, snapshotting it in your memory. Brownish hair with some scarce light pieces grown naturally throughout. You lean over slightly and notice a scar in his brow that is a unique identifier-

“Could you stop looking at me like that?” he asks coarsely.

You squint at him suspiciously. “After the night I’ve had? It’s just a precaution.”

“You know where I work, they know me and that I’m with you. You have a paper trail, I wouldn’t risk shit like that dickhead back there.”

You raise your chin defensively. “So if I didn’t have a paper trail, you would consider it?”

“What?!” he looks at you incredulously.

You pop a finger in his face. “So you can take me home and just do whatever! They say the most likely serial killers are the good looking ones.”

He rolls his eyes. “A backhanded compliment, thanks. And you haven’t told me where you live yet. I’ve been driving for 15 minutes and you refuse to give it to me.”

You turn to face the road now. “I don’t want you to know where I live.”

“Trust me, I’d rather not either, but I’m trying to be nice here.”

“How about I go to yours, just for the night?”

You feel the truck jerk off the side of the road as he parks it abruptly. He turns to you, glaring with fire in his eyes. “You can catch a cab right here, I don’t have time for this.”

“No wait! I don’t mean like that! I just can’t go home! Please!” you say pleading with him.

“What do you mean you can’t?” he asks.

You fall back into your seat pitifully. “I dropped my keys back in the club...swinging my purse at the guy who spike my drink. I can’t call for a replacement until the morning...”

Security leans back, looking toward out his window you can’t read his expression but his body read tired as his broad shoulders melted down from their defensive mode.

He starts the truck back up. “Fine, but daylight is in four hours: you call a cab and you’re out of there.”

You breathe a sigh of relief. “Thanks! I won’t impose on a thing. What’s your name by the way?”

He sits there quietly, streetlights rolling over his face ominously. “You need that for your police report?”

“Well maybe…”

“Come on!”

“No I mean with the guy spiking drinks back there, not you and what you’re possibly capable of but I’m not accusing you.”

“Jason,” he says. You share yours with a handshake.

You enter his apartment hesitantly. It has a rustic feel with a lot of old metal works decorations and natural wood furniture.

“You live alone?” you ask.

“Yes, so you can have the couch. Do you need anything before I break myself down for the night?”

You plop on the couch, taking off your shoes. “Got any bottled water?”

“Plastic is ruining the environment and its inhabitants.” He digs into the fridge and hands you a can. “Aluminum is much more sustainable.”

You open the can and take a sip. “Thanks but isn’t plastic recyclable?”

“Not nearly as much as aluminum. Now if you’ll excuse me…” He walks off to the back room as you settle into the sofa sipping your water. Your phone beeps warning you that it needs recharging. Your eyes catch a vacant cord in a corner outlet. Luckily it fits your phone as it beeps happily.

Sitting back down you finish your water and look around your surroundings.

“No TV?” you say, judging his choices. He probably has a big ego to match his huge stature.

You look through your phone a little bit to mindlessly scroll social media until you feel an urge to pee. Jason hasn’t come out of his room, he might be asleep. Not wanting to wake him, you tiptoe to find which door most likely led to the bathroom, turning a promising knob.

Opening the door, your nostrils are hit with a sweet smell of bath oils and the sight of a man reading in his bubble bath with pink scrunchies catches you off guard.

“What are you doing?!” he howls.

You can barely compute as you slowly smile at the picture in front of you. “Your pigtails are the cutest!”

“Get out!” he growls, adjusting the bubbles to ensure he is at least modest in front of you. You close the door and giggle to yourself until you remember your main goal.

“I’m sorry, but I have to pee!” You knock on the door so he knows you’re serious but you’re glad there’s no glass because you are still clearly amused. A big man in a bubble bath is just too rich.

“Give me a minute!” he says. You hear water sloshing around and silence until the door opens on you. Your face lands on his soft pink tshirt covering his firm chest.

“It’s all you,” he says in a monotone, letting you by as he made his way to his kitchen.

When you come back out, he is sitting with beer, looking up at you. “Want one?”

You shake your head. “I had enough to drink today.”

He takes a healthy glug from the stein. “Well, I haven’t started yet.”

You sit across from him, feeling awkward. He looks at you curiously. “So what happened with that guy anyway?”

“At the club? Just same old stuff. Guy says hi, gives a compliment, and offers a drink. He was a great conversationalist, just rattling on about what he does and how beautiful I am but then he tried to say he knew the owner and pointed him out to me. I looked behind me but I didn’t know what he looked like, so when I turned back to ask, he looked like he just moved and was posed unnaturally. I asked him what the owner looked like but he brushed off my question to raise his glass up with mine, cheersing to a good night, but this film was on top of my drink and all hell broke loose.”

“Fuck that scum,” he says, taking another drink.

“Exactly. So I hand it to the bartender and told them to save it and call 911. He may not have heard me but when the bartender didn’t dump it, he got pissed, grabbing my arm asking what I said.”

“Where was he taking you?” Jason asks.

You shrug. “I don’t even want to think about it, I have no idea but I wasn’t going to go no way. Thanks for stepping in when you did.”

Jason wipes his beard of the excess beer. “I’m just glad you spoke up and got attention on him. If I wasn’t on the clock, that guy would’ve been in the dumpster with the rest of the trash.”

You think back to the moment, getting dragged and the pain in your arm. You lift your arm and see some purpling form on your bicep and Jason notices.

“Let me get ice for that.” He makes an ice bag with a dishrag and loads it up with cubes. You lay your arm down on the table for him to place the ice on your inner arm.

“Hold it there. Does it still hurt?”

You shake your head. “But I’m sure in the morning it will.”

“Yeah that’s gonna be nasty, but the ice will lessen it.”

“Thanks again, for the help.”

“Please don’t mention it. I just wish there were less dipshits on the street messing unsuspecting people.”

You nod, and feel a yawn coming on. “I think it’s about time I try to catch some Zs. I have, what, 3 hours left?”

Jason puts his stein in the sink. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t work until night again so just rest. I was high strung back there when I said that.”

“I get it, but really, I’ll be out on time.” You get up, adjusting your dress and head for the couch.

“Do you want a shirt and shorts or something? You’ll be swimming in it but it has to be more comfortable than your night look.”

You mull it over. “Uh, a tshirt would be good.”

Jason goes back to his bedroom for a minute,coming out with a black Slayer tee.

He tells you good night, closing his bedroom door as you peel off the hot pink bandage dress that peels slowly off your body like a second skin. You feel like a new woman slipping on the tshirt, fitting you perfectly loose for comfort, smelling Jason’s musk embedded in its threads. You lay out on the couch with the ice under your arm as sleep swept you away.

---

You wake up slowly to the smell of food wafting in the air. You stretch, inhaling the heavenly smell, almost forgetting until you opened your eyes that the place you slept was not your own.

You wince at the awareness of your arm as you sit up and see your burly friend over the stove,

“Good morning! Breakfast is about ready,” he says in a jovial manner. You get up and take your phone off the charger, reading the time as 11:47 am.

“Shit! I overslept!” you say, gathering your dress and shoes. “I’ll give this shirt back. I need it for the ride back to my place.”

Jason looks disappointed as he lays out some eggs on a plate. “No, I said you didn’t have to worry about that! You need food, come on, eat.”

He sits down, shoveling a forkful into his mouth waving you over.

“It does...smell great.” He smiles, handing you a plate to help yourself to eggs, sausage and toast.

“I didn’t get this size by skipping meals, little lady. And breakfast is best after a night out.”

You reach over for a piece of toast but the ache of your arm holds you back. Jason takes your wrist gently, rolling up the shirt sleeve to study your bruise.

“Yeah, they look worse as they get better.” He gives it a gentle rub before returning to his plate. “So you survived the night?”

“Yeah, that is a good couch.”

“Good, I’m glad.”

You swallow some juice, taking a couple bites of egg. “Sorry again for imposing. I’ll blame my previous drink on that boldness. I don’t do this often.”

He shrugs. “I don’t bring strange women home after work either, just so you know.”

You smile. “Well luckily I’m not strange.”

His eyes widen as he locks his jaw.

“You think I’m strange?!”

He lifts his juice glass. “I meant that I don’t shit where I sleep. I respect boundaries.”

You feel slightly disappointed with this information. “Oh, well thank you. I am glad I got a glimpse of the man behind the leather and toughness. Bubbles and pigtails, I just can’t!”

“And I’m not apologizing for it lady, so tough shit! A man can enjoy the finer things in life.”

“You bet your ass you can. You earned it.”

You fill up no breakfast enough to get you going and get ready to go.

“I’m ordering my car now...coming in 2 minutes.”

Jason stands at his front door with you, hands dug in his black and white horizontal striped pants. “Ok, I’ll just see you off.”

“You don’t have to. You’ve already done a lot,” you assure him.

Jason shakes his head. “I want to.”

Silence passes through the two of you as you wait. Seeing him in the daylight for the first time, he doesn’t look so serial killer scary as you once thought. His wavy brown hair looks heavenly and less wild man. Even the scar above his eye has character.

“How’d you get that?” You point at his face.

“What?” he asks, rubbing his face. “Is there some egg on my face?”

“No, here.” You step up to him and reach his brow carefully. “Right there.”

The softness of his brow welcomed your touch as you lightly stroked the area. Jason’s eyes glisten innocently at you, never once flinching under your hand. He doesn’t say anything, and you’re glad. You willed him in your mind to take hold of your hips and pull you to him-

Beep Beep

Your notification ring tolls that your ride has arrived. You look at your phone and into the parking lot.

“I guess that’s my cue,” you say in a monotone, walking off slowly.

“Hey wait!” he calls after you.

You turn to him quickly. “Yeah?”

His mouth hangs on some words he wants to say but blurts out, “Make sure to keep some ice on that arm.”

You nod as your heart falls.

“And if you happen to collect numbers, any chance you would want mine?”

You bite your lip running up to him to slap his arm. “You think you are so sly, don’t you?”

“Like the Family Stone. And I need to contact you for my shirt back, so don’t think you’re getting away that easy.”

Masterlist

Tag

@chaneajoyyy

#jason momoa x reader #shakafic

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avas-inner-demons-are-babies · 4 years

Text

Ohana

Ship: None (Though you may take implications as you please)

Summary: Leif has always insisted that he should be allowed to do things on his own. Well, now he’s on his own and honestly...he isn’t enjoying it. Perhaps a bit of new company can help him sort out his feelings.

A/N: Hey everyone! World’s most confused college freshman here, bringing you another MID fic that took waaay to long to get typed up. Legitimately, this has been sitting in my Google Docs for months, just taunting me. But there’s been a little less stresso in my espresso lately, so I took time to actually make myself sit down and get it done. I may not ship Ava and Leif personally, but their dynamic is just *chefs kiss*. I’ll never get over that whole “If you promise not to kill me then I won’t leave you behind.” “You’re with me till you die” scene. It makes me feel things. But anyways, this is nearly 14 full pages in G-Docs, and I hope you can all enjoy!

A/N 2.0: So apparently one of the cons of staying up late to finish a fic is forgetting to attach the actual fic itself to the post. My bad guys, here she be.

In his couple hundred years of living, Leif can proudly boast that he has done many, many things; some very common for Daemos of his age; others common to those much older than him; and there have even been a few select occasions when he has done things that even the most aged and experienced elders cannot ever claim to have done (getting exiled, befriending a prince, travelling dimensions to a world full of humans, befriending a human, living with a human, laughing with a human...the list seems to grow daily now).

However, out of all the various activities that he has taken part in throughout his life, he can safely say that people-watching has not been one of them. Back on Daemos, staring- like most other interactions, whether they be direct or otherwise- often resulted in battle; which, in turn, resulted in a lot of shouting and blood-shed. It was a silent show of disrespect and of challenge; and only idiots and warriors sought out battles willingly. And while the title of ‘warrior’ technically goes hand-in-hand with Leif’s recently earned place as a knight, the position is just that- recently earned. And despite what some may say, he is not an idiot. Considerate? Scholarly? Absolutely not. But street-smart and clever? Let’s just say he hadn’t become an infamous assassin by running solely off of reckless impulse and uneducated whims. But now, here on Earth, almost all of those skills have fallen into uselessness, and he can people-watch without any real concern for his life.

And by the Gods is he watching.

He is watching and scanning and listening and praying. Praying for a familiar face. Listening for the sound of a high voice discussing things of no importance, or for a loud, bratty complaint about anything at all; for a gentle-but-stern reprimand laced with patience, or a subtly nervous acknowledgement of some strange discomfort; even for a soft-but-proud observation of something completely obvious. Scanning for a flash of hot pink eyes or a bobbing carrot-top head of hair or a giant amidst the crowd of short humans. Watching so intensely for all of these things that the rest of the world seems to have filtered down into a watery hum.

To put it quite plainly, Leif is lost. Very lost in a very crowded place, with no idea where his group has vanished to or where he himself should (or even can) be. It had been fun at first; being able to do as he pleased; wandering wherever his whims decided to take him, stealing food from a group of small humans, kicking over trash cans, and just overall being a minor nuisance. But invigoration tends to fade very quickly when one is travelling a lot of unfamiliar terrain, and as it goes, so too does energy. It doesn’t help that they’d been at this “music festival” -as Ava had called it- for quite some time before he’d broken away from her and the others, and admittedly, he is starting to feel the strain on his feet from all the walking. In addition, the ridiculously large gathering of humans that bustle around him is beginning to leave him overwhelmed. And on top of that…

“...it’s starting to get cold” He pouts internally, suddenly rather grateful for the double-layered, long sleeve human shirt that Ava had gotten him. Ever since the Fall Festival, he’d noticed the air outside growing chillier by the day. It was starting to get to the point where their thoughtful human host unusually protective prisoner was considering going back to the Sacred Ma’all and obtaining them some “coats and hats and stuff”, to quote her specifically.

As a particularly nippy gust of winds arrives, lashing the tips of his ears as it dances through, he finds himself wishing desperately for these objects that he can not even properly picture.

Looking up at the sky, Leif can just make out the thin line of orange coating the horizon as the sun begins its lazy descent. Eyes narrowed, he decides to take a break. Plomping himself down on a nearby bench, he sighs, combing his fingers through his absolute mess of a mane.

“Ava promised.” He whispers, “She promised. They’ll be back. They have to come back.”

The city-dwelling regulars that skitter past him hardly spare a glance for the strange, mumbling man on the bench. It’s nothing they don’t already see on their daily commutes, and most would not blame them for their experienced silence. But Leif, who has no way of knowing what they know, takes their purposefully imposed ignorance as a personal offence. He feels segregated from their reality. Invisible.

Alone.

Leif hisses in a sharp breath as the word taunts him. Pressing his head into the palms of his hands, he represses a shudder. He should be used to this by now; being left to his own devices. How many times now has it been? How many betrayals and abandonments? Four? Five? More than one person should be able to count. He has been able to handle himself just fine before. So why now? Why now is he having such issues with finding his own way? He might call it ironic if he knew the meaning of the word.

“It’s because you got used to the cushy life.” A small voice in the back on his thoughts croons, “You liked being chummy with the Prince and his guard dogs. You liked that there was always food at the ready, and that you never had to worry where you were sleeping next. You liked the stability. The safety. And in time, you even came to like the laziness that this new world allowed.”

“That’s not true!” Leif barks back, not realizing how loud the proclamation was until several humans passing by wince and stumble as their paces quicken. He is sure to lower his voice as he continues to mumble to himself, “I can still take care of myself. I haven’t gone soft. I can do this.”

Taking in a long deep breath, he steels his will against the unpleasant thoughts racing around in his head. He bows his head and closes his eyes. When he opens them again a few ticks later, there’s a clear change. They’re collected. Focused.

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do this.” He reassures himself, feeling some of that original vamped-up feeling return, “I’m a Daemos dammit! I don’t need some human to hold my hand! I’ll find my own way home! And then.-then I’ll kill them! I’ll kill them for leaving me!”

The mental pep talk does great things for Leif. Now enraged and brimming with confidence, breathing heavily and nearly quaking with the emotion of it all, he puts on a sneer and glares out into the crowd. His fingers flex as he summons forth his sickles, ready to swing them out at any unfortunate soul that crosses his path. He stands, his knuckles white around their hilts. The dying sunlight has no effect on him anymore. His goal is apparent in his mind. He is prepared. Determined.

He takes one strong, bold step forward…

...and is subsequently swept off his feet by the force of a group of teens pushing past him.

Nearly losing his balance, Leif’s arms flail in an attempt to regain his balance, and he immediately bumps into a young couple. As they turn on him with vicious glares, he steps away from them. Disorientation takes this chance to rush through his system. As he fumbles about, one of his sickles manages to catch on the shirt of a small child toddling by with his mother. Leif jerks one direction while the boy jerks in the other. A shirt sleeve tears, and the little one goes sprawling to the ground. An ear-piercing shriek explodes from tiny lungs. All heads turn in their direction. Wide-eyed Leif throws away his weapons and presses his hands against his sensitive ears. While staggering away from all the attention, he runs into yet another man who- being caught completely off guard- falls back into someone behind him. As the domino effect continues, the noise and panic cause the poor Daemos to go into full flight mode. Gritting his teeth, he gathers just enough control to take a flying leap over the top of the completely bewildered mob. He lands back near the bench and grasps it tightly to keep himself from falling to his knees. As he takes a seat once more, the humans are all glancing around and shouting at each other in offense. The child continues crying.

Thoroughly defeated, Leif allows his head to fall back as he slumps down into the wooden comfort. Then, he lifts it back up only to cradle it in his hands. The unwelcome tears brought on by pure fear sting at the corners of his eyes. Releasing a shaky sigh, he finally gives into the thought that he has so far been refusing to voice.

“I’m doomed.”

***

Soaring high above the head of one particularly shaken Daemos, a careless pigeon makes its way around the festival with ease. Drifting aloof above the sea of hundreds of singing and laughing humans, it follows the breeze along the street and down towards one particular block, where a vendor has been handing out pretzels. And at this moment, it just so happens that a young woman, with flowing dark hair and vibrant pink eyes, has just dropped the remaining half of her salted treat on the ground. The pigeon is quick to join several of its other brethren in tearing at the free meal to pieces, completely unaware that shock is what delivered this wonderful treat to them. Although, they learn very soon after, as said young woman lets off a loud, horrified shout. Grey feathers go flying as the band disperses in a threatened rush.

The group of men trailing behind the woman jerk in surprise.

“Princess Ava? What’s wrong?” The youngest, a concerned looking redhead, calls out.

Ava stares at her companions with a feverish look. Pointing at each of them individually, the others can hear her counting them, over and over again.

“One, two, three, four...two, three, four...three, four, four, four! Why are there only four of you!” Her voice raises in both pitch and volume, “Where’s Leif?!”

Her words seem to settle with them all at the exact same time. The tallest of the bunch, Pierce, begins flickering his gaze from face to face, searching for the former-assassin in the horde of people around them. Rhys, Noi, and Asch all turn off in different directions, then come back and share a look. They all focus on Ava, who has turned to the ground with guilt-ridden eyes.

“How could I...he was just with us not too long ago, right? Right?” Her frantic question is only met with uncertain silence from her companions. Rhys goes as far as to look away, nibbling on his ice pop, “Oh God. We have to find him! Leif!”

Ava begins pushing her way through the crowd, crying out to her missing friend. The boys stick to her like frightened ducklings as they mimic her steps. Their screams rise above the swell of music and voices.

“Leif, where are you!”

***

As his friends begin their desperate hunt a few streets away, Leif finds himself aimlessly ambling along through the park. He has discovered that there are less people back within these tree-sheltered pathways and he is grateful for it. He is on the hunt for something, although if he were asked he would not be able to say exactly what. Shelter? Company perhaps? A sign pointing home would be nice, but he can’t really read all that well, and he doubts that there is one around regardless. For a natural-born hunter, he certainly does have an awful sense of direction.

His fingers tap against his thigh as he walks. On occasion, he mumbles curses at himself for getting stuck in this situation. The night sky is clear and bright, and more than once he finds himself staring up at it, feeling as though the stars are laughing at his plight. Gaining a little comfort in the embrace of the shadows, he sticks to them, glancing over every now and again to see a straggling human stroll by. He passes the fountain where he and Ava had encountered the threatening ‘clique’;passes a large stone statue of some long-dead human frozen in time; passes what looks to be a small garden area, where brightly colored flowers glow in the moonlight.

Eventually, Leif reaches an area that he first assumes to be abandoned. The quiet and empty wrap around him like a blanket. His only company seems to be the soft glow from the scattered lampposts. The peace here cradles him in its arms and promises him safety. He’s almost relaxed, resigning to spend the night in whatever tree provides the most cover and warmth, when suddenly-

“Heya there compadre.”

Leif startles back several feet and does a neat little twirl to face the direction of the slow and kindly voice that had called out to him. How he had missed the strange human before him in his first look around is beyond Leif, but he certainly sees the man now. He sits leaning against the nearest tree with an air of remiss and a smile on his face. Upon seeing Leif’s reaction to his greeting, he puts his hands up in reassurance

“Hwoa there! Didn’t mean to startle ya friend. Just couldn’t help but notice that you were lookin’ a tad lost.”

“We’re not friends.” Leif interjects so instinctively that he nearly cuts the stranger off. Then, catching his own tongue before he says anything truly offensive, he reroutes with, “But...yeah, I am lost. I got seperated from my group a while ago and haven’t been able to find them since. And I’m not very familiar with your kingdom yet, so I can’t just go back home.”

Thanks to the poor lighting between them, the Daemos misses how the stranger’s eyebrows quirk a little at his self-correction (and yet not the use of ‘kingdom’?). But as he makes his way over to this new human, Leif does begin to take in the man’s overall messy and unkempt appearance. His long, auburn hair is wrapped up into an extremely makeshift ponytail, the length of which surpasses even that of Pierce’s or Ava’s. The many rebellious strands held back out of his face by a thick, green fabric headband that’s stretched across his forehead. It must have been made to match the long, tassled poncho that he wears, their colors the same. Beneath it, he only seems to have a miserably stained grey shirt, and pants so baggy that Leif can not imagine them being comfortable. His skin, which at first appeared to simply be naturally dark, is actually merely a deceptive tan which highlights every freckle, scar, and wrinkle. Leif is sure that if he were to touch the stranger, he might have an almost leathery feel to him. Teeth no whiter than a well-worn paperback fill in a broad smile that brings to life the creases around the edges of both the stanger’s lips and eyes. Eyes that are brown like a healthy farm soil, and seem to hold a level of spirit and life that Leif can never recall having seen in any other person before. It’s unfiltered blatancy is surprising to him.

“Well ahh, what’cha waitin’ for?” The stranger suddenly picks up the conversation, scooching slightly to the right and patting the ground beside him, “Come’n take a seat. We can vibe while the universe carries the train of life down its long tracks.”

Leif hesitates. The human before him might be a stranger, but he emits an image that reminds the Daemos of the forest spirits that could be found back in his own world. The Earth seems comfortable around him. If one squinted, it would almost seem as though the tree’s trunk and roots had warped to form a throne around him.

“He seems like a powerful sage. I should stay. Maybe he can help me.”

Nodding to himself more so than the man, Leif takes his place on the grass. This results in a wide, toothy grin on behalf of his companion, and being so close now, Leif is able to notice how one of his canines is missing.

“Joyous day! You’ll be the first bit of company I’ve had in a long time my fellow wanderer. Say now, what’s your name?”

“They call me Leif.”

“Leaf? The name of a freelancer. A young man born for travel and change. A soul that dances in the wind, its colors ever uncertain.” The man’s smile softens and his eyes stare off in Leif’s general direction, and yet seem to be staring at something miles away, “You and I, I’m sure we’re the same. I’ve had many a name myself, but most around here know me as Jingle. It’s a pleasure to meet’cha.”

Jingle holds out a hand and they shake. Leif has seen this done enough times on the tee-vee to be able to properly pull it off, even if he doesn’t quite understand the significance. Then, glancing over his shoulder, Jingle proceeds to reach back and pull, from behind the tree, a forgeign looking object.

The thing is clearly made from some kind of light and polished earth wood. Its beige surface has been very delicately carved with a swirling, wave like pattern that decorated almost the entirety of its pear shaped body. A large round hole rests a little ways above the bottom. Stretched taut up its middle and along the long arm protruding from the top are six silver strings, wrapped at both ends around small metal nubs. At the head of the arm are six knobs all turned in various directions. None of the silver pieces shine, and in fact seem quite well worn. Nearly all of the impressive wood surface is riddled with scratches.

Jingle positions the thing against his chest.

“What is that?” Leif asks, eyeing it with unease.

“This here is my trusty guitar Taylor. I know she isn’t much compared to those clunky metal demons they’re selling out there-” Here, he nods his head out in the direction of the still-ongoing festival, “-but she does me just fine. So long as I keep her pretty, she sings like an angel.”

“It...sings?”

“As sweet and humble a tune as you might ever hear. Here, have a listen.”

With his nimble fingers already poised to play, Jingle wastes no time in coaxing a tune out from the air. From the first pluck of a string, Leif finds himself utterly enraptured. Each swift movement of the human’s hand brings forth another new wave of sound so soft and breathtaking that the Daemos doesn’t even know how to process it. It is as if Jingle’s soul is completely in tune with the instrument in his grasp. Leif sits stunned, feeling the music tempt his very heart and bring prickles to his skin. A minute passes, and he soon finds himself lying completely relaxed against the tree trunk, eyes closed, and merely absorbing.

Jingle plays for some time, and for that time the two are in their own universe. It is very dark now, and Leif can feel his mind just starting to slip off in unconsciousness. His body is heavy. Connected to the very grass he sits upon by an unnamable force that he chooses to call exhaustion. When his company eventually brings the song to an end, it takes Leif a few moments to reconnect with reality. Green eyes blink several times, and turn to find that Jingle is already watching for his reaction.

“That was amazing.” Leif breathes in as soft a tone as he’s capable of.

“Jus’ like I told ya. Voice of an angel.” Jingle hums, parroting his earlier words. He shifts to place Taylor on the ground beside him. When he turns back, he finds Leif staring into the space above them with a small frown on his face, “My friend, what troubles you? The world weighs heavy on your shoulders tonight.”

“I’m not sure. I just…” Leif trails off, searching within himself for an explanation for the crushing weight in his chest, “I think I miss my friends. I keep wanting them to be here, but they probably already left. I don’t think they’re coming back for me.”

They sit quietly for a few minutes. Jingle peers off down the park path. Leif clears his throat in a battle against the tight feeling that fills it. He jumps when a gentle hand lands on his shoulder.

“Lighten your soul wanderer Leif. Everyone leaves sooner or later, but just because they’ve left doesn’t mean they are gone. Pray tell, what doubts whisper in your ear tonight?”

“Eh?”

“Why do you assume so quickly that your friends won’t return to you?”

“Oh. The way you talk is really weird, you know that?”

The human man only smiles at him, patience and expectancy in his eyes. He makes a light gesture with his hand, urging Leif to continue. And after several seconds, he does with a tamed sigh.

“I’ve had a lot of people tell me that I cause more trouble than I’m worth.” The simple admission seems to close a giant force around his ribs. As it squeezes painfully, he finds himself emptying more words than he ever knew he had been filling up with, “I know I tend to go overboard most of the time, but I never- no, I guess just lately- I mean, I haven’t been meaning to cause problems recently. Everything is just so...so calm here, and I don’t know how to live like that. Back on- I mean, back where I’m from, peace and quiet always meant something was wrong, and we hardly go anywhere or do anything, and I just get so bored! I hate just sitting around and doing nothing, but it seems like that’s all the others want to do anymore. And I know I could probably just go out for a while on my own and burn some energy but your world is so big and I just...I don’t want to end up on my own again.”

He gives a forced and pitiful huff of laughter.

“Although I guess it’s too late for that now. I’m sure they probably already went home and forgot about me. They’re probably relieved to get rid of me.”

Leif hadn’t meant to let that flooding fear leak into his words. Or that harsh scratchiness of his throat, which left breaks in his sentences. The uncomfortable rhythm of his heart and the mild shaking must be showing through as well now. It makes no sense to him. He’s only felt this terrified once before- the day they had lost Ava at the Fall Festival. And although the circumstances now are similar, he can not imagine what it is about this strange human that seems to make those insecurities rise up in ten-folds. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t have the others with him now. Maybe it’s because he really has no idea where to go from here.

The panic had set on him so fast the Leif didn’t properly notice it until it was being chased away by the strong and defendant strums of a guitar. The first twang brought him to a jerking halt at first. But as the singing notes continued, his mind returned to the harmless reality. He came back to find himself looking at the stars.

Jingle- as if noticing Leif’s inner plight- had picked up Taylor once again.

“It is not so easy to forget one’s friends.” He murmurs as he plays, “Do not so swiftly dismiss your own worth my snowy-haired partner. If the universe truly believes you were meant to be with these people you seek, then it will surely guide them back to you. And it sounds to me that affection has already been allowed to roost deep in your soul.”

The younger has nothing to say to that. He only closes his eyes, breathes deeply, and nods. Drawing his knees to his chest, he crosses his arms and lies down his head. All these new emotions are exhausting.

***

Ava slumps down against the frigid stone of the fountain, pulling her knees up and hiding her face in them.

“I can’t believe this.” The muffled moan that escapes her is full of pain, “How could I lose him? What kind of friend am I? God, he probably thinks we abandoned him.”

“I don’t get what you’re so worried about.” Asch harrumphs, doing a single lap around the structure before taking a seat on its edge, “We haven’t encountered anything dangerous since we’ve been here on Earth. Leif can take care of himself for one night. Why can’t we just go home? It’s cold out here and I’m tired!”

Despite his childish whining, he at least has the decency to look sheepish when she turns to glare at him.

“Well if that’s the case Asch, why don’t we just leave you out here tonight? You’re always going on about how you’re so much better than Leif anyways, so if he can make it out here on his own, then clearly you can too.” During her short reprimand, Ava stands and crosses the few steps between them. Her eyes hold a level of rage that the Daemos can never recall having seen on her before. And despite the fact that he could easily beat her in a confrontation- physical or verbal- he feels himself shrinking in shame before her petite frame.

With a satisfied huff, Ava walks several paces away. In the short time it takes her to regain her composure, her anger morphs instantly into guilt. Her posture slumps as she glances back at Asch, whose hurt expression is turned towards the concrete.

“I’m...I’m sorry Asch.” She sighs, “I didn’t mean that.”

“I know.” Comes the humbled response from behind her.

“I’m just really worried about him.”

“I know.”

The next few minutes are shared in silence. The other three Daemos choose not to express a word on the exchange just yet, only shuffling about in their own thoughts. There is a level of complete loss between them. No one wants to leave Leif behind-- but Asch isn’t the only one whose focus and determination is beginning to wane.

A particularly nippy breeze blows through, causing Ava’s already shaking body to jitter violently. In a second Pierce seems to simply materialize beside her and pull her sniffling form into a warming embrace.

“Perhaps Prince Asch is right. We should go for now.” He suggests quietly as she leans into him.

“But Leif-”

“-Will be easier to find tomorrow when it is light out.” Rhys jumps in, “We are all concerned Princess Ava, but Asch does have a point. It is unlikely that Leif has found himself in any sort of real danger, and even if he has, he is a trained warrior. None of us are suggesting we abandon our search completely, but we are all at our limits. Even if we were to find Leif tonight, at this rate we may all end up sick by the morning. Please, we will follow you no matter your choice, but think reasonably.”

There’s a gentle hint of pleading in his voice that prevents Ava from denying his claims outright. She looks between all of them in turn, searching desperately for some counterargument that never comes to rise. It doesn’t take long before she finally lets herself really take in the heaviness of her own body; the stinging left in her feet from walking for so long; the need to close her eyes and rest that is becoming harder and harder to fight away. The boys watch with patience as her mind wears itself down, and they don’t miss the surrender that wins over her stature. There’s a quiet breath, then:

“...fine. Let’s just go home.”

Dear reader, have you ever managed to convince someone you love to do something they don’t want to, only to be hit with a horrible wave of guilt when they give in and agree to go through with it? Have you ever wished you could travel back in time just a few minutes, if only to stop yourself from being so damn persistent? If so, then maybe you can imagine how the Daemos boys feel at this point in time. The deep disappointment they observe in Ava’s eyes as she pulls herself from Pierce’s arms is enough to make their very souls wince. Three sets of eyes meet as their minds change almost unanimously, and Rhys can tell the other two are waiting for him to come up with some sort of clever escape. And being the man he is, he complies.

“Well, ah-just a moment Princess Ava. We...we haven’t heard from Noi yet! A decision such as this should be agreed upon by everyone present, yes? And perhaps if he believes we should stay out. Noi?”

Rhys shifts, hoping to prompt Noi into insisting that they stay. But the younger Daemos- who has been noticeably absent from the entire conversation- doesn’t appear to have even noticed his name being called. In fact, he likely missed the discussion as a whole, seeing as how he stares off down one of the darkness-swallowed paths with fully focused attention. His amber eyes sparkle with wonder. In listening closely, one may have heard him humming.

Debate temporarily forgotten, Ava and the rest focus on him with quirked eyebrows and tilted heads.

“Uhh...Noi?” Asch beacons tentatively.

“Do you hear it?” Noi whispers in response, to all of them and yet no one in particular.

“Hear what?” Ava asks, frowning, “I don’t hear anything.”

Pierce steps forward and rests his chin atop her head.

“I hear it.”

“Me too.” Asch adds after a moment.

“Me as well.”

“Wait, seriously, what are you guys hearing? It’s just quiet for me.”

“It’s music.” Rhys says, “Different from what the humans at the festival were playing. It’s quieter.”

“Softer.” Pierce adds, and the scholar nods.

“Earlier there were voices too.” Noi finishes.

“Wait, voices? But who else would be out this la-” Ava’s eyes spark up wide. Before the guys can even hit the same realization she has, she’s already gone; taking off with flying feet and a new swarm of adrenaline buzzing through her veins. “LEIF!”

“Princess Ava!” A chorus of Daemos voices rise up through the night, and they sprint, one after the other, along her trail. Her voice bounces off the surveying trees.

“Leif!”

***

“Leif!”

Two men sitting beneath a canvas on moonlit leaves jerk their heads up in unison. The elder lowers his guitar and puts on a muted, knowing smile. The younger goes tense as he strains his ears for the echoes of the voice that had rushed at them in the night. His green eyes go wide as can be, quite literally glowing with hope. He places one, prepared hand on the ground…

“Leif!”

Springing to his feet faster than should be natural, he runs only a few paces forward.

“Ava?” He breathes. The sound of rushing feet pouding closer out of the darkness causes him to gasp and with the new air in his lungs he shouts out, “Ava! Ava, I’m here!”

Leif steps into the light just as his human friend barges into its threshold. He’s tossed off his already imbalanced feet as she tumbles with a football-tackle force into him. They go down together onto the rocky ground. Ava clings desperately to his shirt, as if afraid he will vanish into thin air at the impact. Before either have fully taken to their jarring landing, he finds her burying her face into his neck, sobbing almost hysterically with relief. Her sporadic hiccups seem to be contagious, and for the first time since quite possibly his toddler days, he finds himself holding onto another person like a lifeline and shedding tears that he hardly cares if others see.

“I’m so sorry.” Ava manages through uncontrollable gasps, “I’m so, so sorry Leif.-”

“It wasn’t your fault, I’m-”

“-I didn’t mean to leave you. I just turned around and you were gone and-”

“-the one who walked off. I’m an idiot for thinking-”

“-we looked everywhere for you! We almost went home-

“-I got so lost without you-”

“-I didn’t want to, but Noi heard you and I’m just-”

“-I’m just-”

“-So happy you’re back.”

The unorganized scrambling over each other’s apologies ends with synchronization. Still sniffling, Ava lifts her head from his shoulder and meets his gaze. There’s a pause. Then broad, toothy smiles replace quivering frowns, and their foreheads press together as they share a laugh.

It’s around this time that the other four Daemos reach their position, only to find their newly reunited friends on the ground, trying to hold back bursts of giggles. The picture absolutely throws them. More so because of Leif’s bubbly demeanor than Ava’s, though both are certainly a sight to behold-- with tousled hair and dusty clothes, goosebump rippled skin now detailed with red marks where they had slid against the concrete. And yet the two grin and carry on in that way that can only be done after one’s stress-forced sense has left them, their cares evaporating into thin air. Earth truly must be turning them soft, because the once strict and stone-cold warriors- upon surveying the scene- give genuine smiles of their own.

It takes a little bit of time before the pair actually settle down enough to sort themselves out and stand once again. Even then, Ava makes sure to link her arm with his, swearing inwardly to never let him out of her sights again. Leif on the other hand, does his best to recollect himself, not wanting to give the others any more reason to pester him later about the blatant displays of emotion. He hides his flushed face in his sleeve, pretending to wipe a smear of dirt off his face.

‘It’s nice to see you again.” Rhys says with only a hint of scolding behind his words, “Though if you ever run off like that again, you’re finding your own way home.”

“That’s fair.” Leif replies with a shrug of his shoulders. He doesn’t miss how Ava studies his reaction from the corner of her eye.

“Did you miiiss us?” Asch drawls mockingly, stepping forward with a smirk on his face. Despite the remark, he gives Leif a friendly knock on the shoulder- a habit he’d unknowingly picked up a few weeks ago.

Leif only scoffs, but it tells them all they really need to know. He looks downwards briefly and mumbles something that only the young Prince seems able to hear. Asch blinks in recoil, then replaces his cheeky grin.

“What was that?” He asks incentively, “I don’t think we all heard you.”

Leif growls a low growl.

“I said-ugh-thanks for...looking for me.” Then, adding on more softly, “It’s nice to know you guys actually cared enough to find me.”

“Well duh.” Ava’s response causes him to lift his head in her direction, “I made you a promise didn’t I?”

His mind flashes back to that day they were shopping for decorations. He’d almost convinced himself it was a dream.

“Yeah. I guess you did.”

“Besides-!” Suddenly, Noi appears in front of him, beaming in the friendly boyish way that used to get him mocked back on Daemos, “You’re one of us! No man left behind, right?”

“I-”

“Exactly.” Rhys cuts him off in affirmation, “Despite your chaotic personality and violent tendencies, you are still an important part of our group.”

“You-”

“Yeah.” Asch sighs, carefully selecting his next few words, “I’m not sure where we’d be without our healer honestly. And...I will admit that you’re the only one here who’s any fun to spar with.”

“Yes.” Finally, Pierce, “It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

As Leif gapes at all of his friends in turn, something new solidifies within him. See, when Asch had saved him from execution all those years ago, the Prince had earned his life. And with that, over time, there came undying loyalty. But it was always saved for Asch alone. The others had been tolerable companions at most, at least until they got to Earth.

Then came along Ava, who unintentionally became their focal point. She was important to him- to all of them. But he wouldn’t have died for her. Not at the start. That problem arose when she became fond of them, and they- in turn- of her. It only took a couple weeks after Leif had admitted to himself that she was actually rather preferable company, that he seemed to swear away to her the same things he had gifted Asch. His life. His loyalty. Fresh off the line went his affection as well. And although at this point, he was close to the other Daemos, he still felt separate. A product of his own mind and the upbringing that was so very different from their own.

It’s taken until now for that last link to click into place. That camaraderie which he’d been lacking now swarms through his morals and rearranges itself among those mental pieces. He feels some of his outlooks shifting. Most importantly, a single, powerful thought plants itself in his mind and takes root.

“They want me.”

His chest swelling, the most Leif can manage is, “Thank you.”

The sound of quiet shuffling a few feet away accidentally breaks through the touching moment. The emotional bunch all turn their attention to a man standing like a startled cat beneath a nearby tree. Clearly, he had meant to scuttle away unnoticed.

“Who is he?” Noi asks.

“Oh that’s Jingle.” Leif tips his head in the direction of the musical man, who has gathered his meager belongings in his arms. At the mention of his name, he winces slightly and gives a wave, “He’s been letting me sit with him. He's pretty cool for a human. The way he talks is weird though.”

Now, Ava, the Earth and city specialist of the group, immediately recognizes Leif’s apparent companion as a member of a nomadic homeless community that had just taken its annual place in one of the far back corners of the park. She’d never spoken to the man in true conversation, but she can recall exchanging a few words with him last year after she’d heard him playing the exact same guitar he now cradles to his chest. He had an impressive talent that convinced her to deliver him several dollar bills and whatever meager change she managed to hold onto after her sparse commutes to the mall or grocery store. She can vouch for the fact that he does say some fairly strange things on occasion. However…

“Hey, you’re that chill guitar man I met last year.” She says, hoping to spark some comfort in his cautious air, “Have you really been hanging out with Leif this whole time?”

Jingle nods, shifting into a more permanent stance.

“You didn’t have to do that. But I’m thankful that you did.” She smiles warmly, “Honestly, I was worried he might have gotten himself into trouble.”

“It was no problem young miss.” Jingle makes the effort to reply, “I’d seen you all together early in the day, and happened to catch my fellow wanderer out on his own. He looked like he could use someone to hold him steady until his world righted itself again.”

“Ah...yeah. I don’t doubt that he did.” Digging into her pockets, Ava pulls out five dollars- the sole remnants of cash that was pretty much all spent on food, “Here, please take this. It isn’t nearly as much as you deserve, but it’s all I have.”

The older human steps forward to accept the money from her outstretched hand with a grateful expression. Immediately after pocketing it, he spins back around in the other direction and walks away into the night. Ava silently determines to continue her tradition from before if she can manage to find him again in the coming weeks. But before any of that-

“Come on you guys. Let’s get home.”

#aphmau my inner demons #aphmau mid #mid ava #mid leif #mid noi #mid asch #mid rhys #mid pierce #mid fanfiction #aphmau fanfiction #there's also a sort of OC in this one #Which is really just a humanized version of Jingle from Hamtaro #because #a- childhood #and b- he was exactly the type of character I wanted for this fic #there's also a hint of dance man from Wandersong in him as well #please forgive me #I just live for vibing nomad characters #Thank you all for reading!

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bubmyg · 4 years

Text

sweater paws - jjk

pairing: jeongguk x reader

genre/warnings: youtuber!au, the fluffiest fluff, jeongguk says to adopt don’t shop i heard him say it at least twice

word count: 1,874

summary: “these have been done before but I don’t care I love her” - a series on gcguk in which jeongguk tackles old, cheesy YouTube couple challenges. episode three: the ‘where am i?’ challenge or the responsibly adopt a dog for my half unsuspecting girlfriend challenge

a/n: technically part 3 of idcilh but mostly just a part of the general youtuber!guk series (all of which are linked on my masterlist!!)

“Do you have any guesses where I might be taking you for your last location?”

Jeongguk couldn’t help but laugh at your indignant, non articulate response that was instead a series of disgruntled noises through pouted lips. Your arms were folded tightly to your chest, one knee curled inward and he could tell by the knit of your eyebrows and the scrunch of your nose that you were glaring behind the bandanna tied carefully around your eyes.

“Ice cream, maybe?” You tried, tone hopeful until you added sharply, “You owe me, to be honest.”

In an effort to fulfill the requirements for the Where am I? challenge, Jeongguk had led your unsuspecting figure into the depths of Jimin and Taehyung’s apartment, letting you believe that he’d just driven you in circles for an hour only to end up back at your own apartment. When you ‘locked in’ your guess as the living room, Jimin and Taehyung had appeared wielding unlit lightsabers and promptly scaring the shit out of you while Jeongguk just cackled behind the lens of your camera.

Your second location had been the park where you and Jeongguk often walked, the pond at the park to be exact, the bank of it where the tiniest bit of water lipped onto the inclined sand. It eventually soaked through the toes of your tennis shoes when Jeongguk had said, quote, you’ll be able to guess if you just take one more step forward, yeah, there— only to elicit a startled squeak from your throat and a pout to your lips when Jeongguk sat you down in the passenger seat of the car and carefully rolled new socks and shoes on your feet that he’d packed specifically for that part of the video.

His surprise locations hadn’t been nearly as shocking as yours. You’d taken him to mall, forced him to wander through at the guide of only your hand, and then guess what shop you’d placed him inside. He’d guessed Urban Outfitters when it was instead a specialty toy shop. His second location had been the tattoo shop of one of his close friends, the one who had slowly been adding to the little pieces of ink all over his knuckles. It was no exception and he guessed it immediately after a tiny yelp with the first touch of the tattoo gun, even allowing the artist to etch out the last of the tiny heart on the bend of his thumb after he’d pulled the blindfold off.

“Why do I owe you?” Jeongguk wondered innocently, only to have to duck into himself when you swung a searching arm to smack his chest and scold goodnaturedly stop trying to hit the driver.

“You got a tattoo and that new Overwatch figurine you were wanting out of this challenge,” You settled back into your seat with a huff, “I’ve got Jimin’s lightsaber that doesn’t work anymore and a pair of wet socks.”

He continued to beam, cheeks hurting from the stretch of his smile as he rested a wrist on the steering wheel at a stoplight, glancing at you again. “I think you’ll like this last place,” He tried to soothe, careful in not startling you when he touched your thigh to give it a soft squeeze, “It’ll all be worth it.”

“Is it the apartment? Please tell me it’s the apartment.”

Jeongguk laughed, palm on the wheel as he accelerated through the intersection and flicked on the turn signal, “I’ll give you another free hint this round. No, it’s not the apartment.”

He angled the car down the long gravel drive, catching the way you perked in his peripheral at the sound caused by the change in terrain. Carefully, he guided the vehicle into the parking spot directly in front of the door to the building, hands shaking in bubbling anticipation as he turned off the ignition and passed his keys into one palm, gathering his camera off the dash into the other.

“Stay here, I have to go make sure they’re ready for us.”

“Jeon Jeongguk you better not leave me in here by myself.”

“I’ll be no more than thirty seconds. Count. If I’m not back, you can take the blindfold off and come find me.”

There was a visible cheer in Jeongguk’s stride as he bounded up the stairs of the building, nudging his way inside with the camera carefully balanced.

He’d planned this for weeks, communicating with the staff members on various occasions, confirming fees and applications and waivers and consent for filming. All of which came to a head when three staff members greeted him at the exact same time, only for one to warily confirm, “Jeongguk, right?”

He nodded, sticking out a straight arm for them to shake his hand, “Hi. Nice to meet you.”

“She’s all ready for you…” The staff member’s eyes shined gently at the excitement of the man on the other end of their clasped hands, “We’re ready when you are.”

Jeongguk rushed out something about I’ll go get her, be right back, only to dash back out the door with shaky camera work in fear that you’d taken his promise seriously and had ditched the blindfold. You hadn’t, and he found you the same way he’d left you, still pouting but slightly curious in the way you tilted your head and then jerked it when he opened your door.

“Do I hear dogs barking?” Was the first thing you asked, curious in expression but tight in the way you gripped his hands that aided you out of the car.

“I’m afraid I can’t disclose that information.” Jeongguk muttered something to you about there being stairs, easing you across them and then underneath his arm as he held open the front door for you.

Cupped hands on your shoulders situated you in the center of the lobby area and he could no longer contain any fraction of the giddy grin that overtook the entirety of your features as slowly the pieces began to fall together for you.

“Can I guess yet?”

Jeongguk directed the camera at you as the staff member from before came out from one of the back rooms cradling a golden ball of fur with a neat red bow perched on top of its head. “Go ahead, babe.”

“The animal shelter? Wait!—” You turned in the general direction of his voice to correct, “—specifically the animal shelter we visited a few weeks ago. The one on the other end of the city…”

He traded possessions with the staff member, letting them takeover his camera while he delicately adjusted the puppy in his grasp, moving to stand directly in front of you. “Okay,” He said, “You can take the blindfold off.”

You were tentative in crooking your fingers underneath the bandanna, tugging upward in short, gradual spurts until it was hanging limply off the end of your index finger. You blinked, bleary for the first few seconds of adjusting to the light, adjusting to your surroundings, adjusting to what was standing directly in front of you.

“I was right…” You trailed off, squinting at Jeongguk while some of the staff members began to laugh among themselves. Your pointed gaze shifted to the puppy in his arms.

Dumbly, you said, “That’s a dog.”

Jeongguk just grinned while the laughter of the staff grew a bit louder, “Mhm. Your dog.”

You stumbled on the words my dog? as they came off your tongue, accepting the puppy when Jeongguk placed her in your arms. You held her close, disbelief still evident even as your heart began to roar in your ears and you nuzzled into the puppy’s soft fur with your nose.

“I…” You squinted at him this time to dispel some of the involuntary tears that had gathered in your water line but rather than them disappearing, they began gentle tracks down the slope of your nose, “You adopted her?”

“Technically we adopted her,” He subconsciously reached for your face, thumb brushing away the tears as they came, “Yes. She’s ours now.”

You mumbled something about not fair and something jumbled about what his last location was supposed to be and how it didn’t even matter and didn’t compare anyway before silent tears began to fall more freely, tucking your chin into your chest as you hugged the puppy a bit closer. Jeongguk motioned to the staff member with his camera and they cut the direction of the lens to the floor, a fond smile on their lips as they gave him an encouraging thumbs up and began to step aside with the other people who’d appeared to watch the scene unfold. He wrapped an arm around your waist and behind your shoulders, coaxing you into his embrace with more soft laughter.

“Don’t cry, baby girl,” Jeongguk’s lips touched your wet cheek, holding you gently as you nuzzled into his sweater, “Do you like her?”

A noise of affirmation rumbled softly in your chest as you adjusted the dog in your grip, peering down at her as her tiny pink tongue came to stretch for your cheek. It only made you cry and smile harder, something Jeongguk laughed unabashedly at as he settled his chin on your shoulder.

“Thank you,” You murmured, leaning your cheek against his.

“Alright,” His voice shifted back into vlogging mode once you’d settled back into the car, the puppy in your lap and wrapped up in a slew of blankets you hadn’t registered Jeongguk packing into the backseat before you’d taken off on your filming adventure. He tilted the shot toward you, “So have you figured out that the challenge was just a lie to get you here?”

“You made me step in a pond for a puppy?” Your attention directed to the puppy who placed a tiny paw on your chest and stretched to lick toward your chin again. “Honestly? Worth it.”

Jeongguk grinned, stretching the camera again until it sat on the dash to capture both of your figures beyond the steering wheel. “Glad to hear it,” He leaned over the middle console, “and what do you think, little girl?”

She turned her attention from trying to lick you to successfully licking Jeongguk, planting a series of fat stripes of his scrunched nose until he pulled away.

“You think that means she’s cool with becoming a member of our little family?”

The question made you unwillingly emotional as tears began to well over in your vision, blurring the way Jeongguk panicked and leaned closer again to plant his lips on yours before fishing for his camera.

“I think that’s it for this video. No, before you ask, we don’t have a name yet... All the links for the animal shelter will be in the description if you’d like to check them out and please do check them out, there are so many animals in shelters who need homes…”

“And other than that?” Jeongguk glanced over his shoulder to where you were cooing quietly at the puppy, heart inflating then seizing in his throat and the onslaught of tears still visible on your cheeks began to seep over into his own being.

“I guess my girls and I will see you in the next video…”

#bts reactions #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fluff #bts x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #fic: ytber jk #IT'S FINALLY CANON UWU

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july-19th-club · 3 years

Text

i couldnt stop thinking about “the offspring” and also ive been thinking it could be kind of fun to write from deanna’s POV so here’s both of that

We’re all a little surprised to see him walk back into the game a month after the memorial. He’d been so quiet during it, and has been very withdrawn with most people for the past several weeks. Not so in our sessions; he veritably lets loose and says things I can sense he’s barely articulated to himself without a willing audience. But in public he’s been far more reserved, and only nods politely and changes the subject as soon as possible whenever she comes up.

“Surprised to see you,” says Worf, never one to avoid stating the obvious. “Sit.”

He does.

“You okay? You ready for this?” Will gives him one of those friendly brother-slaps on the shoulder. Data shrugs.

“I know,” I say, as a faint, jittery mote of - apprehension? - hits me. His sensations always come across more...mechanically, with a slight delay in my experiencing of them, and I’m wrong about what exactly they mean more often than I’d like to admit. It took me years of knowing him to even begin to find their fine tendrils in the psychical space, since my ability is mostly an act of biology and there’s nothing biological about him. Even now I’m not sure how much of my impressions, when it comes to Data, are actually telepathy or whether or not it’s all just basic cold reading. But they’re there, little sparks of this-unsettles-this-being and this-being-is-engagedinterestedfulfilled-by-the-task-at-hand and preoccupation-obscures-this-being’s-other-processes. Right now my strongest impression is this-being-is-suppressing-impatience, which I have to mentally sort through a filter of good old-fashioned psychology to fix to a source motivation. Given the circumstances, it’s a good bet that he doesn’t want anyone to make a big deal out of his finally being back to the poker table, but it’s too late for that and he wishes we’d just get on with the evening.

I lock eyes with him across the table, and he brings her up of his own volition, surprising me. “Thank you. I imagine that you would, Deanna, being the only other member of this party who has both had, and lost, a child.”

That he’s been thinking about me in this sense is touching. We don’t talk about me during session, of course, but it must come to mind for him whenever he enters my office. I am proud of his willingness to address the elephant in the room outside of counseling, though, so I take the conversational olive branch. “You had Lal for a good deal longer than I had Ian,” I admit. “This end of the grieving process is bound to be exponentially more painful.”

“Again, Counselor, I cannot grie-”

I hate cutting him off, but this is something he’s supposed to be working on. Supposed to being the operative phrase. He has such a knee-jerk reaction to it, and it’s been like pulling teeth to try and change that. I feel unpleasantly teacherish and scold-y, but I speak up as I told myself I would the next time he automatically shut down someone else’s emotional observation. “Data. Just because your mind and body do not interpret and process emotion in a human way does not mean the experiences you have do not affect you or the way you think and experience things afterwards. We talked about this.”

He’s contrite, clasps his hands in his lap and looks away from me, at the table. “Yes, we did.” Then he meets my eyes again. “But not here. This is not therapy, this is poker night.”

“Mmmm, same difference,” says Will, as he starts passing the drinks around.

I raise my gin to toast Data. “Damn right,” I say, “and tonight I’m going to crush you and your big brain.”

There’s a hint of ease in his shoulders. Powering down from work mode to casual mode, as I’ve come to think of it. “Highly improbable,” he says. “My brain is in here -” he taps his forehead - “surrounded by dense protective alloy.” Chuckles around the table, and you could almost miss it but I catch a tiny self-satisfied nod. He told me a couple weeks ago he was working on a ‘observational humor subroutine, which has a better chance of merging with my automatic reasoning processes.’ I have to say, it’s an improvement over all those men walking into bars.

“There he goes again, bragging about his thick skull,” says Geordi, as the door opens and he takes his seat. “Sorry I’m late, guys. You forgot this.” He hands Data his green sunshade, which I’d hardly realized he wasn’t wearing. I see their hands brush, the way Geordi leans closer. He’s positively radiating fondnesswarmthcomfortreliefwelcomereturntohabit and it brightens my mood just to be in the same room as it. “Good to have you back, by the way. I’m gonna squash you like a bug.”

“We will see,” Data says evenly, donning the green shade. He takes the offered cards, shuffles, offers them to Geordi to slap for luck, and deals. And the game begins again.

#this was really fun to write actually #wish all my fic ideas came to me in neat little easily-wrapped-up vignettes #star trek #star trek: tng #q

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new2otomelol · 4 years

Text

Maid to the Rescue - Part 2 - KBTBB fanfic

I do not own the rights to KBTBB, Voltage does. This is just a fanfic made for fun! Hope you enjoy.

Two days later...

Preparation for rescuing the bidders took longer than expected, but when it comes to the prime minister, we have to be extremely thorough.

Night lights on the freeway breeze past me as I speed to my location. My heart beats in anticipation for what's to come; not out of fear, but excitement.

A year ago, a planned mode of attack would have never crossed my mind, in fact, many things scared me back then, not anymore.

A sudden beep lures me back to the present. "Siren! It's done! Net took his buddies out to the bar. Nix and I are taking off." I tap the earpiece in my ear to respond. "Great job everyone, I'm parking at the south end. Was the other vehicle dropped off and weaponized earlier?" Nix responds this time, "hell yes darling and I can't tell you how happy I am to be back with you all." God I missed my friend. "It's rock and roll time! Gage, do you have controls over the cameras and signal blockers for the warehouse?"

I hear a different beep this time, "yes sweetheart, there's 20 armed guards and a masked guy in there. Be safe. We're on standby for you." I click my earpiece one more time and give the code "operation GAMBLE is underway."

I park the car two blocks away from my intended location and exit the vehicle, proceeding to remove my weapons from the trunk. First, I store the tranquilizer guns on my side holsters and grab a couple of Glocks loaded with armor piercing rounds and other small bullets to cause damage, but hopefully not to kill. I place my knives on the inside holsters of my jacket as well and place a few hand-held darts on outside pockets of my my bulletproof vest. I have to anticipate the boys’ physical condition due to their current situation, they might be weak, or worse. Just in case, I prepared injections containing electrolyte solution and a bit of adrenaline educing drugs and store them in a small container on the inside of my boots. I finish off with my face scarf covering everything except for my eyes and connect my earpiece to the side of my tactical helmet that is equipped with automatic night vision and other goodies. Clad all in black I walk toward my destination in the darkness of night.

I reach the rear entrance of a dilapidated warehouse and notice a guard standing outside the door; a parking lot light hardly illuminates his area of supervision. I make my way slowly behind him as he leans lazily on his side against the door, attempting to ignite his lighter for some much needed nicotine relief. The man suddenly jerks as he notices a shadow on the ground creep up from behind and a sudden sting on his neck, but it's too late to react as the Ketamin in the dart takes effect. I catch him quickly and ease him down on the ground as he falls. It's nighty night for a few hours sweetheart.

I hurriedly pick the lock on the door with my tools and enter a very brightly-lit hallway that seems to have a couple of doors. The building itself is old and has been abandoned for some time, but these guys get use of everything the government owns, thanks to the prime minister.

I scope the area out and discover one of the rooms to be the security camera section, bingo! I tap the side button of my helmet to connect to my earpiece and contact Gage. "I'm about to take on the video security guys, let's start radio silence and jam all signals for 2 minutes." I whisper and hear a small beep as acknowledgment from Gage. I open the door slowly and find 3 men sitting in front of a set of 20 monitors. Some of the videos I could tell had been looping thanks to Gage's crafty hacking. I slowly take out 2 tranquilizer auto-injectors and sprint towards the men stabbing the two to my left and quickly taking another to engage the third guard. The poor man is taken by surprise which causes him to react late. He reaches for his radio and turns pale as he notices there is no signal detected. He lunges towards me in an attempt to strangle me, but I side-step him quickly and tranq him as he passes me.

I honestly feel bad for the men, they're only doing their job, but still, these are the bad guys Lisa, focus! I turn my attention to the monitors and notice that most of the views of the warehouse are set to observe outside and to a couple of the hallways, then I spot them, the bidders. The men are sitting on what looks like steel chairs that are volted to the ground and restrained with chains that are all connected to the center of the room held by one large lock. This should be easy enough.

I engage my comm and contact Lucy. "Alright Luce, I can see where the guards are and have acquired their location, go ahead and cut off the lights and block cellphone and radio signals again, we don't want them to communicate with each other."

"Sweetheart are you sure you want to go fully silent? We won't be able to get to you in time should something happen." Gage interjects. "I'm sure guys. I got this. Stay ready for part 2 of the plan and I will contact you in the next 15 minutes, if not, send help."

"Roger Siren!" I hear them all say and then the audio goes dead. The lights cut out almost immediately activating my night vision visor. I take out my dart guns and walk out to the hallway once again.

I can hear the rushing of footsteps all around the factory as confusion and chaos sets into to their reality. I run down the hall to the second door and before I can open it, one of the men bursts in. I take a step back and shoot him with a dart. Once he falls to the ground I notice two more behind him and shoot them as well. Seven down, 13 more left.

I jump over their bodies and make it to the main open area of the warehouse. I look around to find the stairs, I need to reach the second floor. The scene before me is almost comical as I see these tough men in suits scramble around in the dark aiming their weapons at nothing and sometimes at each other. "What the fuck man? Somebody must have broken in!" one man yelled. "Dude, better not shoot at anything, we need to get our flashlights! Where's our boss?" another yells. The first idiot answers back, "he's upstairs with those assholes!"

I try not to laugh at their dialogue and shoot them and 5 other men with darts; 10 to go. I rush up the staircase and notice beams of light coming from the railing. Crap, they found their flashlights.

"I see something!" one of them yells as I climb up the last few steps and spots me. He runs towards me in an attempt to tackle me. I drop my now empty tranquilizer guns and take out one of the auto injectors. I open my stance to let him get to me as he clashes to my torso, I bring up my knee with much force to strike him in his diaphragm, knocking all the air out of him. He pins me against a wall and coughs roughly, gasping for air. I stab the needle in his arm to tranq him and knock him out.

I hear the whistling sound of a bullet pass me by as I realize the rest of the men on the second floor with me and some have me in their sights. I push the man off of me and take out one of my Glocks as I roll out of the way and hide behind a metal cabinet. I hear many more shots, but I crouch low and shoot out their flashlights, gaining back my cover.

I venture out once more and pass by two men before another one manages to grab me by the neck and squeezes tightly as he realizes that he has acquired me. I hold on to his arm and perform a scissor kick, entangling my legs around his neck and shifting our weight breaking his center of axis, taking us both down to the ground and knocking him out successfully.

Hearing the scuffle, 3 other men walk towards me, trying to feel their way around in the dark. I shoot each of the men’s legs where I know it won't be fatal and quickly get up and run towards the door at the end of the hall where my targets are located.

Keeping the count going, I have 5 men left to go and the masked idiot as well. I take a step back against the metal railing and support myself as I kick down the door that leads me to the bidders. Once the door is smashed I roll out of the way and take cover behind the wall next to the door. As expected, the masked man remained inside with the rest of the guards. They quickly shoot a few rounds and stop to reload.

The lights suddenly flicker back on. Figured as much, I knew one of the men I left alone would eventually make it to the breaker and restart the system. I take a deep breath and prepare myself for what I know and have planned for. "Come out you bastard or we shoot them!" a man’s voice calls out from the room.

So cliché, can't criminals be a bit more creative? Laser sharks? Something more fun? Ugh, alright, time to end this. I stand up and walk in slowly while waiving my guns in the air as a form of surrender.

"Now what in the world do we have here?" Says the masked man. As expected, he is confused by my physique. Why would an intruder be skinny and shaped like a woman? Men, so predictable. I look at Eisuke, Mamoru, Ota, Soryu and Baba and thank goodness they are aware enough to see what is going on. It won't take much to get them going, although, poor guys, they look very roughed up and dehydrated.

The masked man lowers his gun, preparing himself to make a villainous speech and I take advantage of his ideocracy. I drop my guns to give him false hope that I am turning myself in, causing the men to laugh. They should have paid attention to my fingers, my throwing knives are hooked and ready to go.

It all happens in slow motion for me I start to swing the knives quickly into position and throw them. First, I am at the masked man's shooting hand, stabbing him right through his wrist. I then start to cart wheel to the side as one of the men begins to fire and I throw two more knives with one hand, hitting both men as I use my other hand to support my movement. I end up croouching next to Eisuke because I know the guards are under strict orders to not shoot him or the others.

"Bitch! Come out here and fight us!" One of the remaining two men states as the others either tend to their wounds or run away. I laugh a little too loud by accident and one of the men catches it, grunting in frustration.

Eisuke looks down at me and whispers, "I don't know who you are, but do you have a death wish?" I shrug it off, if he only knew who he was speaking to. "Okay, so does that mean you want to fight hand to hand?" I yell out to the remaining morons.

The men whisper to each other, more than likely coming up with some sort of half-assed strategy. "We're lowering our weapons, come out, right fucking now." I place my guns on the floor and kick them away. I stand up and walk towards the men. As expected, one of them pulls out a knife while the other tries to pull out his gun from his back belt-holster. I run towards the man with the knife and smash my left arm in an angled swing against his right arm as hard as I can, causing him to drop his knife. I hold onto his biceps pushing his arms back and using them for balance as I plant my left leg down and kick hard at the man that was reaching for his gun, hitting him right under his chin with the heel of my right boot. I then shift the top part of my body back arching as much as possible, grabbing and pulling the knife guy hard, flipping him downward, smashing his head on the floor with his own momentum. Before I can hit the ground, I had let go of the man used my arms to support me leaving me in a wheel position, except for my extended right leg. I bring that leg down hard on top of the guard’s head, propelling the lower part of my body up and helping me flip upside up again. Both men end up knocked out.

I move quickly go to collect the guns from the floor as I hear a startled Baba yell, "Holy shit, that was amazing pretty lady!" I laughed again, they have no clue of who I am and no way to know as my helmet disguises my voice. I take a quick bow for fun and quickly look around again to get my bearings straight. At least two men are able and out there somewhere and masked freak has run out of the room like a wounded dog.

I re-upholster my guns and take out the case holding the electrolyte coctails I made for the men. As I take the auto-injectors out, the men begin to panic a bit. "What are you going to do with those?" Soryu yells. "Relax gentlemen. If I wanted to kill you, I would have done so already (I always wanted to say that). These are to help you get rehydrated and give you the strength you need to follow me out of here, I can't carry you all."

I head to Mamoru first and stab him on one of his legs and do the same to the rest of the men. "Who are ya kid?" Mamoru starts off the inevitable round of questioning. I go to the center of the room and begin working on the massive lock that is holding all of their chains together. Jesus, masked man has a flair for the dramatic for sure. The lock seems complicated, but I begin to work on it. "Look pops, right now is not the time." He scoffs in frustration.

"Who sent you?" Eisuke asks. It takes me a minute and the lock finally gives way, I don’t have time for idle conversation and have to ignore them. "Alright men, listen to me. You can begin pulling your chains, they are lose now." I look up at them as they stand, then see that they have thick metal cuffs, stupid masked man. I take a small container of acid I carry for just such occasions. "Okay, show me your cuffs. I will be putting a drop of acid on the hinges. Be sure to shake them off quickly." The men do as told, but not without making a fuss about it all. "What else ya got on you?" Mamoru asks, trying to be funny. I remain silent, focusing on my plan.

"Okay men, we are heading out of this warehouse towards the back end. I anticipate that we'll be followed so we have a great cinematic car chase to look forward to. Be sure to grab some guns from the ground. Let's go!"

PART 3 COMING SOON...

#kbtbb fanfiction #kbtbb fanfic #kbtbb soryu #kbtbb mc #kbtbb #kbtbb ota #eisuke

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joon-ipersgirl · 4 years

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O2 - “airplane”

genre: strangers to lovers!au, angst, fluff

pairing: jimin x reader (f)

word count: 3.5k

warnings: cursing

summary: they say home is where the heart is. you’re convinced yours was taken the day your father died. until you meet jimin.

you believe in love but after watching men cycle through your mother’s arms, rocky relations with ex boyfriends, and broken friendships, you no longer see it in your future. so much so, you never settle in one place long enough to create ties and call it a home, choosing a job where you’re always on the go and on your own.

a chance encounter on a flight from new york city to bali, indonesia, you meet. flustered by jimin’s flirty advances but enamoured by his understanding and good-natured tendencies, you start to fall. what starts as a work-trip soon blossoms into a budding romance, but will jimin’s secret destroy the relationship before it’s had the chance to truly begin?

a/n: whew! we made it to part two. thanks for sticking with me y’all. we get to see a little more banter with jimin. thank you again for reading and hopefully i’ll get the next part out on time for y’all. leave a comment with some feedback; i love receiving them. have a wonderful rest of your day/evening/night and thank you vi for being my editor in chief as always!

full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next

You could only thank your sweet Lord and Savior for blessing you to fly on an aircraft that had some semblance of high-speed data. There was only so much one could do with the airplane monitors to keep yourself entertained - if the flight you were on had them. Skimming through your email, you stared skeptically at the most recent one from Michael. Hadn’t you just spoken this morning?

Y/N,

I assume that your meticulous planning has failed you for once in your brilliant life and you were late to catch your flight so you didn’t have time to check your phone as you would not purposely ignore a text from me. Gods be with you during this time - I have taken a moment of silence as I pray for your divinely placed gift to be restored upon you.

Onto more pressing matters, Julia has sent me an updated list of the things they expect to see in this video; please see attached. Because I have so earnestly prayed for your skills to be returned to you, I have full confidence in your ability to work through these minor inconveniences.

Just because I know you missed my text, I’ll say it again: remember the passion! Enjoy the moment.

Yours eternally,

Michael

P.S. Garland Sans has an exhibit coming to the MET! We must go!

You snorted. Michael was as ingenious as he was dramatic. One of the best in the management game, Michael was sought after to solve the worst of problems when regular members of his team couldn’t in his own consulting company, Callahan Consulting. His personality was infectious and made one want to strive above and beyond for his approval. It surprised you every time that you were partners and he was your manager as declared by himself. As they say, opposites really do attract.

Clicking on the files attached in the email, you groaned softly as you realized that though the wifi was available, it wasn’t strong enough to access any large multimedia files, the downloading circle on a seemingly never-ending loop. You sank further into the seat, your knees hitting the one in front of you due to the cramped economy design. Your fingers slipped easily through your short locks as you tried to stay calm. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if you couldn’t see what changes you’d made. It’s not like you’d have to potentially rework your entire itinerary for the trip the moment you landed. You scrunched your eyes shut as you tugged on the roots of your hair in an effort to quiet your increasing anxiety. The softest of touches against your knee jerked you upright.

“Are you alright?” You gazed down at the hand splayed across your leg, eyes wide. It squeezed and you finally turned your eyes towards its owner.

“What are you doing?” you asked hurriedly, tugging your headphones off. The weight of his hand, though not physically heavy, metaphysically felt like it was anchoring you to your seat and you wouldn’t be able to move it yourself even if you tried.

“Are you alright?” stranger-that-causes-you-continuous-embarrassment repeated. “You looked like you were in pain,” he trailed off, finally removing his hand. You slumped over in relief on your exhale.

“Fine,” you replied curtly. You could feel the blood pounding in your ears as you shifted in your seat. His long legs seemed precariously too close to your own in the compact space.

“Are you sure? I can call an attendant -”

“No!”

“What are you doing?” he murmured, eyebrows raised and amused. Looking like any stubby child hanging off of the monkey bars, you were clutching onto his forearm and yanking down with all your might to stop him from pushing the call attendant button above you. The muscles under his forearm flexed as stranger-that-causes-you-continuous-embarrassment lowered his arm against the armrest. You blinked slowly as the realization that you were still holding onto him traveled to your central nervous system and you let go as quickly as you’d clung onto him.

“Nothing!” you inhaled deeply. “Seriously, I’m fine. You don’t need to call anyone,” you told him sternly. You turned back to your laptop and opened your 0618 Bali Itinerary document; adjusting your plans would calm the thumping in your chest. You could handle the anxiety of trying to edit the document blindly, but handling his apparent concern over your physical well-being was another story you weren’t prepared to read. He hummed in acknowledgment and settled back down in his seat, eyes focused on the book in his hand. How he managed to fit in any seat was a miracle.

“What are you doing in Bali?” he asked casually. He didn’t look at you as you turned to him.

“Nosy aren’t we?” you replied in the same tone, eyes challenging. Your eyes met, a glimmer in his.

“Hmm?”

“How did you know I was going to Bali?” you contested.

“Well, I would hope you didn’t board the wrong flight - though you don’t strike me as the woman to make that kind of mistake,” a soft smirk graced his lips. You bit your lip hard.

“Well, I could have been getting off at the Hong Kong connection,” you said, trying to counter.

‘True, but you confirmed that you were going to Bali when you asked how I knew that. I was just assuming before,” he replied with a shrug and a soft grin. You tongued your cheek in annoyance at his observation.

“Right,” you mumbled. You yanked your headphones back over your ears, cutting off the ability to continue the conversation for both your sakes. Only 13 hours and 25 minutes to go.

Your Fujifilm camera felt light in your hands as you recorded a few minutes of the passing clouds. Capturing the changes in the sun during the duration of the flight seemed like a simple task, but balancing the light and adjusting the colors so they came through as vibrant as what they really were was difficult. These would be the first shots seen and they had to evoke the right feeling - the passion that Michael and Julia were looking for. Your passion for your work, for your art, for your life. You stifled your groan, not wanting to cause panic in your concerned neighbor again. You frowned as you stared down at the short video you’d taken; the focus wasn’t as sharp as it needed to be. Turning to the interior of the plane, you held the camera back up to your eye trying to get it to focus.

“If you wanted me to be your muse, all you had to do was ask,” he said with a chuckle. “I won’t even charge you for taking the shot.” The corners of your mouth turned down further.

“You’re not my muse. I’m trying to refocus my camera. You just so happen to be in the way,” you said matter-of-factly.

“I seem to always be getting in the way huh?” He leaned further back in his seat as he turned his head towards me, the sunlight hitting his face so gently. You bit your lip and fiddled with the AF fine-tune again. “First it was your seat, now with your shot. What are you going to do with me?” he asked with a fake sigh of contriteness. You rolled your eyes at his dramatics and took another test shot, the corner of his face creeping into the frame.

“Absolutely nothing,” you told him, adjusting the calibration once again. He moved closer as you snapped another test shot. His olive skin glowed under the mellow rays of the afternoon sun filtering in and his smile filled the small screen of your camera.

“Would you like some help?” he offered as he noticed the slight tremble in your fingers.

“I don’t need your help,” you mumbled.

“Are you sure?” he asked again. “You’re adjusting your AF fine-tune, but you’re in the wrong AF mode. Any adjustments you make wouldn’t have a significant effect if you’re shooting the inside of the plane.”

Stranger-that-causes-you-continuous-embarrassment slipped your camera out of your hands, his fingers brushing against yours, and flipped modes quite expertly as the blood rushed up your neck and into your face. The sounds of your breathing echoed in your ears as you could not believe you’d made a fool of myself in front of him for the fourth time now. Michael must have been right when he said your previous abilities had left, the stress of this upcoming project getting the better of you. It had to be.

“Are you a photographer?” you asked. He took his own test shots, double-checking his adjustments.

“Here and there,” he replied nonchalantly. “I have a few friends in the industry and I dabble in a little bit of art myself. A hobby really,” he continued, snapping his last one of you before handing the camera back. You nodded your thanks and tucked the camera back into its bag; your nerves were too shot to continue. You could probably edit the footage to be better anyway.

“Excuse me, are you Park Jimin?” An attendant appeared with a tiny cart filled with food, her petite frame barely visible from behind it. Jimin.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Here’s your vegetarian lunch, sir. Please enjoy,” she told him as she set the tray down in front of him. Her reach was far more extended than it needed to be and you internally scoffed at her not so subtle attempt to flirt. He smiled and thanked her before turning his attention to the steaming plastic bowl in front of him.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a vegetarian,” you thought aloud.

“Do you think about pegging often?” Jimin’s smile was innocent but his gaze was not. Your eyes widened comically slow as you realized what he was suggesting.

“No! Not at all! What are you talking about?! I would never -” you spluttered out, hands waving frantically in front of you “- I mean, if you’re into that, then that’s great. I’m not judging you at all!” His laugh cut off your backtracked rambling. It was boisterous and loud and filled up the entire space between us as he tipped his head back, clearly delighted by your discomfort. It hurt your ears but made your heart jump. “Please stop laughing at me, Jimin.”

He hummed an “okay” and filled his mouth with another large bite of what you assumed to be vegetarian lasagna. Your eyes fell to his plump lips as you watched him, his jaw moving almost rhythmically as you counted each chew to ground yourself into the present moment. 7, before he swallowed. It was only the tiny flicker of his tongue against his bottom lip that reminded you that you were staring at him. Again. You busied myself with the in-flight monitor screen, extremely fascinated by the current flight path.

“So, are you going to tell me your name?” You raised your eyebrows at his question.

“No, I don’t think so,” you said with a smile.

“Why not?” Your smile widened as you felt like you finally had the upper hand, something that he seemed to continuously have.

“Why should I?”

“Well, you know what my name is. I think it’s only fair that I have yours as well. What else would be appropriate to call you other than your name?” He asked thoughtfully as he pointed his fork towards you, the mischievous glint never really leaving his deep brown eyes.

“Are you going to stab me with your fork if I don't tell you?” He lowered it sheepishly. “Besides, you didn’t tell me your name, Mr. Park. That nice flight attendant did,” you said with a shrug. “So technically, fairness isn’t a part of this equation. The odds just so happened to be in my favor.”

“‘May the odds ever be in your favor’, my ass. Alright, fine.” Jimin peered around your seat, leaning over into your space while nearly knocking his food off its tray, trying to find any semblance of a clue to what your name could be. He sat back and directly faced you, almost folding his body underneath the tray table to do so. You ignored the way his knee bumped against the outside of your thigh.

“Give me a hint,” he pouted. You giggled as his lower lip jutted out.

“You’re too big to use the puppy dog face against anyone,” you informed him with a laugh. Even if it was cute. You hauled your beanie off your head and wrenched your hands through your hair.

“Just call me Clifford,” he teased. He perked up, an imaginary lightbulb going off in his head. “Elizabeth! Is that your name?”

“No,” His shoulders slumped. “But it could have an ‘a’ in it,” you commented casually. His shoulders rallied at the small hint.

“Don’t worry Shutterfly, I’m going to figure it out. Promise.” He beamed at you and you offered a half-smile in return, your attention more focused on the attendants bringing the rest of the food to passengers as you pondered over his words. Promises were made to be broken, filling you with disappointment and regret. In fact, they only served as false assists in the game of life and you’d stopped playing a very long time ago.

The cabin became pleasantly quiet after dinner was served, the passengers settling down for the night. It was cold and you were grateful for the hoodie you’d folded into your bag, the thin airplane blanket not doing much to keep you warm. Your Saipan video was pulled up on your laptop again and you longed to be in the warmth of the beach. Adele would always know when you’d been out in the sun for too long, more freckles dancing their way across your cheeks as your tell-tale sign, but it never stopped you. You smiled at the memories of busted knees and skinned elbows from being too adventurous with friends during the summer.

Nursing your cold cup of coffee, you sighed in exasperation as you felt the strong urge to use the bathroom. Of course, it would only be fair that your favorite drink was also a diuretic. You chewed your lip as you contemplated how exactly you were going to make it out of your seat without disturbing Jimin who was comfortably sleeping beside you, his arms folded and face hidden in the confines of his hood. He looked peaceful and you felt guilty for even thinking about waking him up. If you went to sleep now, maybe you could hold it? You squirmed in your seat as your bladder protested profusely at the thought. It was now or never.

“Jimin,” you whispered and gently poked his arm. Nothing. “Jimin,” you whispered a little louder, leaning closer to his face. You whimpered softly as he didn’t stir. “Fuck this,” you muttered and pushed off the blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

Peeking over to the passengers behind you to make sure they were asleep, you carefully maneuvered your laptop into your seat before standing up. Jimin had titled his seat back to get more comfortable and you assumed to give himself more room - though again, you didn’t believe there was any space that could fit his long legs; they still touched the seat in front of him. Bracing yourself between the rows in front and behind you, you placed one leg in between the gap of his two and held your breath. So far so good. You twisted to face him so you could slot your second leg into the gap, bending over his sleeping frame. It was nerve-wracking to be this close to him in such a tight space and you prayed to your Lord and Savior that he wouldn’t wake up now as you’d gotten so far into your poorly concocted plan.

Just as you were slipping your left leg over and into the aisle, Jimin shifted beneath you. You froze. The strings of your hoodie dangled treacherously close to his nose. You pleaded silently that he wouldn’t wake up as you scrunched your eyes shut.

“Shutterfly?” The sound of his deep voice caused you to look down. “What are you doing? If you wanted to sit in my lap, all you had to do was ask,” he murmured as he removed his headphones and sat up straighter. Of course, he couldn’t hear you.

“I have to pee and you weren’t waking up, so,” you trailed off, ignoring his flirtatious comment again. He gave you a lazy smile that barely reached his sleep-heavy eyes. The distance between you was much shorter and you focused on keeping your breathing as even as possible.

“Hmm, you should go pee then,” he replied as he let his hand rest gently on your hip, nudging you into the aisle. You squeaked and darted from under his touch, hitting your knee on the armrest. You grumbled a string of curses and rubbed your knee as you headed to the back of the cabin, his quiet chuckles fading behind you.

The relief was imminent and you sighed in contentment as you washed your hands in the tiny sink. Under the dim fluorescent lighting, your skin looked washed out. Your eyes and cheeks were puffy from the high altitude and you tried to rub the tiredness away. You knew you should get some sleep, but the thought of accidentally cuddling into Jimin’s soft, warm body as you slept was so tempting, it was terrifying. You sighed in annoyance as you thought about your fellow passenger. He would be the bane of your existence with his deep sleepy voice and soft touches and stupid nickname.

You shut the door with enough force that you grimaced at the loud noise. It wasn’t as if you could shut all your thoughts of Jimin into that pint-sized restroom as you’d attempted to do with Tiago those many summers ago. You scowled at his memory as you angrily walked back to your seat, the pain in your knee forgotten. You tapped Elijah harshly on his shoulder but softened your gaze after realizing you’d startled him.

“Sorry, I’m in your way again.” He stepped out into the aisle to let you through, the subtle waft of his cologne moving with him.

“No, you’re fine,” you told him as you slipped into your seat and rested your laptop onto your open tray table.

“You think I’m fine?” you rolled your eyes at his dumb grin.

“Do you ever stop flirting?”

“Who said I was flirting?”

“Your entire demeanor!” you exclaimed. He hushed you and warned you to keep your voice down as people were sleeping. “Your body language, your tone, your eyes. All of it - all of you,” you finished, gesturing to his body.

“And here I was thinking you weren’t interested,” he said with the same smile. He propped his chin up in his palm as he gazed at you through his long lashes. You scoffed.

“No one is interested in you, Jimin.”

“Mhmm, I love it when you say my name.” You covered your mouth to stop the burst of laughter in your chest. He chuckled quietly and returned to his seat. “You don’t have to lie to me though, Shutterfly.”

“Delusional and dramatic. That’s quite the combination you have going for yourself, Mr. Park,” I commented as you searched for your additional Saipan clips.

“As delusional and dramatic as you are uninteresting and not flustered by me,” he shot back playfully and you struggled to keep the corners of your mouth from turning up as you kept your focus on the screen. “How long does it take you to do that though?”

“Do what?” you asked.

“Edit your videos,” he clarified, closing the distance between you again. It was becoming increasingly obvious that personal space did not matter to him.

“Oh. It depends on the project and how much material I have to work with. Sometimes I can knock out a video in a couple of hours, but other times I get stuck for inspiration or I can’t figure out this one technical aspect and it stumps me for days before I can finally move on,” you said slowing down as you realized you were rambling. “Sorry, that was a lot,” you apologized.

“No, I get what you mean. The purpose of projects will definitely define what type of style you go for. I’ve been in those spaces. No need to apologize, seriously.” Jimin rested his hand on your forearm in a comforting manner and you smiled softly at the gesture.

“Is that a genuine smile I see?” He shoved his head in front of your face trying to get a better look.

“Way to ruin the mood,” you said with a laugh. You pushed his head away gently.

“Wow, I think it is,” he continued. “Your freckles are beautiful by the way. And don’t worry about the mood, darling. I can create another one for you.” Jimin winked at you and placed a headphone in his ear.

“You’re a fool,” you informed him, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“A fool in love!” he sang. “Don’t stay up too late. Gotta reset your circadian rhythm before we get to Bali,” Jimin warned. You shook your head at his concern; if only sleep was so easy. Even so, it was only 2 am back in New York. Plenty of time to nap and be up by your usual 4 am wake up time.

“Goodnight, Jimin.”

“Goodnight, Shutterfly.”

full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next

#jimin fanfic #jimin fluff #jimin x reader #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #fic: bitter and beloved

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orbitswriter · 4 years

Text

pairing: male!reader x Jack

rating: 18+ nsfw, smutty action

Kink list: humiliation (including

the word 'fag' and 'sissy' a few times),

watching porn, jerking off, being

caught jerking off.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Theres always something peaceful about the rain, even when your driving and it makes it harder to see. I was stuck inside with nothing to really but watch the rain gather on my bedroom window, my room Sean had been gone most of the day, off filming some youtube video in his office, and I was stuck at home with nothing to do but watch as the rain covered the streets of Brighton and cars drove past the house. I had nothing but my imagination to turn to... sure I could turn on the tv and watch something but it would probably turn into endless scrolling before eventually giving up and going back to staring out the window, so I was going to cut out the middle part and just stare.

I glanced at the clock, who knows how long Sean will be gone. My mind wonder to a more naughty place, having a roommate had it disadvantages when it came to getting some personal one on one time with yourself. Fuck I was horny, but their was nothing new about that, I had a pretty high labido, pretty much ready to go whenever someone said the word. I turned toward my computer in my chair, a blink email open to my boss... oh right, I was trying to get work done at one point.

I opened incognito mode on my browser and typed pornhub before letting it load, it could be a little to tame sometimes for my taste but at the moment I just wanted to have something to lazily jerk off too. When the sight loaded my eyes were assulted with naked women, I scrunched up my nose a bit. Not what I wanted to see at the moment. I quickly got to the gay side with a few clicks and looked at the some of the thumbnails, I came to someone who looked a little like Sean, I bit my lip. Typical gay boy falling for his straight friend, well more lusting after but still. I clicked on it turning down my speakers so if Sean did come in he wouldn't just hear porn blasting.

I slide my sweat pants down enough to let my cock free, already hard aching to get some attention, I teased myself, only letting the tips of my fingers lightly brush along the length of my cock. I let out a frustrated breath, my mind to weak to deal with even me teasing myself at the moment - its been too long. I wrap a hand around myself letting out a soft moan as I do so, my attention turning to the man on the screan, who was also jerking himself off, mumbling dirty things to the camera.

"I bet you like watch me jerk off don't you? yeah touch your pathetic cock fag" came from my speaker, the male had a deep voice.

He was putting it on a little thick, not that I don't like being degraded but sometimes pornstars should just shut up. I went with it though;

"oh fuck yes" i answered the man who couldn't hear me.

I found my imagination doing what it does best, imagining it was Sean, the voice was to different, but the body build and face worked out, so I did my best to look past the voice. I stroked myself a little faster, I wanted to enjoy it but their was always that little bit of anxiety that Sean might have weaseled his way into the house with out making any noise and would catch me.

"Thats right - I bet you wish you could suck it, don't you sissy?"

"pls, sean" I find myself whining as I tilt my head back allowing my mind to do whatever it wanted to get me off, the mans voice slowly started to sound like Seans.

"That's right you'd do anything for an alpha like me wouldn't you?"

"god, fuck, yes~" I moan getting lost in the image of Sean stroking himself in front of me, teasing me, not letting me touch him only allowing me to watch "Sean, fuck, please" i begged outloud.

"Oh god, I might use your throat as a cock warmer later"

"Please Sean I want it" my hand move faster as I was getting closer to cumming.

"y/n?" the door opened and I gasped, I tried to stop myself but I came hard as Sean walked through the door with a strangled moan.

ooOOoo

{ Sean's Pov }

I had gotten done with my filming a little earlier then I thought I would have, and went straight home after locking up the office. I huffed as I hadn't brought an umbrella with me, so I'd be walking back in the rain with no protection. stupid wheather. I walked as quick as I could back to my house, jogging the last block, even then I still got pretty wet, my hair dripped along and my sweated was soaked.

I quickly got inside dripping on the floor should clean that before y/n sees, he tries so hard to keep the house clean for both of us, I don't expect him to, but it is nice that he does most of the cleaning.

"Sean" I hear y/n moan, I freeze, was he.... No, why would be calling out my name while doing that? he must of been hurt that was it.

"y/n?" I call.

"Sean please" another moan from his room.

I walk to his room slowly drying off as I dripped all over the house. I thought about knocking but instead I just opened the door, I heard y/n gasp then watch in shock as he came, I froze in place. He was moaning my name... I swallowed dryly, feeling a bit of arousals gather itself in me and watched as y/n scrambled closing out of the tab he was watching, the moans of the other male cutting abruptly as he did so. He tucked himself back into his sweats and gave an awkward cough.

"Knockings a smart thing to do" he says simply, his whole face a light shade of red from embarrassment.

"Sorry, I..." I paused "I heard my name"

This makes y/n eyes widden "oh..." he says before licking his lips, his eyes move up and down my body linger near my package for a little bit "you're wet" he says.

"yeah..." I nod its awkward, but I know what I want to do, I want to march over their and pull y/n into a kiss before demanding he fix the problem he made.

"you should -" I pulled him up by the shirt pressing my lips to his, I didn't give him a chance to kiss back before I pushed him onto his knees.

I slipped my jeans off before sitting down in his chair and looked down at a shocked y/n. I smirked a bit enjoying the confusion and excitment that was mixing on the boys face.

"are you going to fix this?" I asked pointing to my still covered dick, it was pressing against my boxers, begging for attnetion from y/n.

"If I dont?" he asked.

I raised an eyebrow - of course he's the bratty type, anything to get a rise of out the dom. I shrugged a bit "Don't make me force you" I simply say, I had been with his type before... maybe not ever a guy but girl versions of it.

"You won't" he smirked challenging me.

I waisted no time grabbing his hair and forcefully pulling him closer and pressing his face into my lap "really now?" I smirk "come on don't make this hard for yourself"

Y/n sat for a minute probably processing what was happening. I wondered if he would try testing me to see how far I would go with this whole thing. As he stayed still I got my answer. I pulled him away harshly before slipping my boxers off and storking myself.

"You're being very disobedient" I said tightening my grip on his hair, a small whimper escaping his throat a I did so, I pulled him back to my dick "Lick" I say.

This time he obeys licking strips up my cock, I let out a low moan loosening my grip on his hair "good boy" I say "make me cum and maybe I'll reward you with the same kindness" I push my food into his buldge, he lets out a moan before pushing attempting to grind against my foot. I pull it away with a small chuckle as he whines at the loss. I moan as he takes me in his warm mouth.

"Fuck yeah baby, take it" I moan stopping myself from fucking his throat, I wantd to savor the pleasure for awhile.

I watched as y/n bobbed his head up in down, taking my cock little by little, I already felt close, it had been far to long since I had been with anyone, hopefull y/n was new long term play thing for me... maybe somethubg more. I push his head down all the way thrusting my cock into his throat as I stood, he gages at first but slowly he relaxes allowing me to do what I want without struggle.

"fuck y/n" I can't hell but moan "shit, I'm cumming" my hips stutter and I prop myself up with the desk as I cum down his throat allowing myself to ride it out, I feel hin swallow around my cock making me moan a bit. I fall back into the chair my cock leave y/n mouth as I do.

Y/n catches his breath and I look down at him, seeing a small dark patch in his sweats.

"Did I make you wet?" I smirk only earning a glare from him, I chuckle pushing my foot into his buldge once more and rubbing him through his sweats, he moans probably still sensitive from cumming before.

"Sean" he seens to beg.

I stop and pull him onto my lap effortlessly, allowing his legs to on either side of my right leg.

"hump my leg and make yourself cum like the little bitch you are" I say looking up into his eyes.

I wonder if he'll listen, or if he'll just call it off, we haven't talked kinks or anything before this so I was swinging blind. But as y/n props his his hands on my chest and slowly started humping my leg I relax, watching him.

"thats right, just like that, let md hear you moan" I say.

Y/n response with a moan moving his hips faster on my thigh chasing after his orgasam. I smirk as he whines obviously close by the way his hips are moving.

"Cum, make a mess in your pants" I whisper close to his ear.

Thats all it seemed to take, I watch as his gray sweat pants got a bit darker and smirker, I pushed my leg up into it earning a strangled whimper.

"Don't, sensitive" he whined as he laid his head on my shoulder, leaning his body into mine.

ooOOoo

{ Y/n Pov }

I felt tired but I wanted to stay awake to talk aboout what happened. I felt Sean slip off my pants and clean us both up with the tissues I had on my desk. He picked me up and carried me to my bed, I thought he would leave once he put me down but he crawled in with me, pulling me into his chest.

"Sean?" I questioned.

"I liked cuddling after sex" he said simply.

Of course he did. "What was that?"

"what do you want it to be?" he pulled away a bit so we could look at one another.

"...Something more then just sex?" I say.

"okay, I wouldn't mind that" Sean smiled a bit making my heart flutter.

"but you're-"

"I swear to got of you say I'm 'straight' after what happened back their I'm smacking you" he cut me off.

I went quiet, he had point, but still. I decided maybe it didn't matter, maybe all that mattet was I was with Sean now. So I cuddled back into him and closed my eyes, more then ready for sleep. Beford drifting off I felt him press a soft kiss into my head.

#jacksepticeye x reader #jse x reader #jacksepticeye x male!reader #male!reader #smut #jacksepticeye smut #reader x sean

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rhetoricalrogue · 4 years

Text

Wayhaven Week: Day 4

For the @otomefandomevents Wayhaven Week 2020.

Prompt: Tranquil Pairing: Adam du Mortain/Aubrey Miller Warnings: none Word Count: 2,786 Summary: Sometimes facing fears means tying on pointe shoes. Note: I’ve been listening to this playlist practically nonstop while writing this. I also have zero knowledge of dance, so this is mostly me doing the Internet Researcher mode and I apologize for any term I may have gotten wrong.

“This is so stupid,” Aubrey hissed, looking at her reflection in the full length mirror that spanned from one side of the wall to the other. Bright afternoon sun filtered in through the windows overhead and the playlist of piano music, while a bit tinny through her phone’s speaker, was a tune she was used to.

Aubrey knew for a fact that the majority of Unit Bravo was out of the Warehouse, Morgan being the only one who gave her a brief greeting as she came through. She hadn’t really looked at the bag Aubrey had slung over her shoulder aside from a short curious glance. Even so, it was enough to make it feel like Aubrey had stored a ton of bricks inside instead of the few lightweight items she knew were in there.

She was grateful it was only Morgan hanging around. While she loved the enthusiasm that Farah had for most things, especially bits of her personal past, Aubrey didn’t think she could handle a barrage of questions right now. She was also grateful that all Morgan did was give her a lazy head to toe look-see when she bumped into her again in the hallway leading from her room and the training room. The tiny half-smile at the short, fluttery skirt and pastel blue knit wrap top Aubrey wore over a grey tank top and black leggings and the brief have fun in there told Aubrey that she wouldn’t be disturbed as she did...whatever she thought she was going to do.

“Come on, Aubs,” she grumbled, sitting on the floor and digging through her bag. Without looking, she found the roll of tape and even though it had been years, taped up her toes as easily as if her last practice was the other day instead of over four years ago. After putting on a pair of lambswool toe pads, her pointe shoes went on just as easily and she exhaled, going into a series of warm up stretches she still did every morning to keep herself limber.

It wasn’t until she was back on her feet and facing the barre that she faltered again. Her eyes went to her phone and she had a brief thought to call up her former dance partner for a pep talk, but then talked herself out of it when she realized that Tony would still be in practice for the production he was gearing up to perform. “This doesn’t have to be scary.” Her hands trembled on the barre. She frowned and pulled her shoulders back, glaring at her reflection as she balled her hands into fists to stop them from shaking. “This shouldn’t be scary. No expectations, just do some basic steps. You can do a beginner class, you’ve taught students half your age how to do the same things before. Now stop overthinking and show me what you’ve got.”

Taking one last deep breath, Aubrey rolled up onto her toes, pushed over her toe box for a good stretch, rolled down through demi pointe, and laughed.

Adam walked through the Warehouse and tried not to feel aggravated at the sight of the detective’s car parked outside. Aggravated wasn’t quite the right word for how he was feeling, but he didn’t know how else to describe the way he felt out of sorts that she hadn’t called him to let him know that she was planning on dropping in on her day off. If she had, he would have…

I would have done what? he thought, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring as he sank into an easy chair in the living room. There had been something between them only a few days ago and he flexed his hand. If he focused enough on the memory of watching fireworks at the carnival, he could all but feel her hand still in his.

“That’s an awful grouchy look for someone who knows Aubs is home,” Morgan told him, perching her hip on the windowsill before she slid the window open enough to let a breeze in.

“She isn’t home,” he countered. “She’s somewhere here.”

Morgan scoffed and tapped out a cigarette. “Okay, sure.” Sparking up, she exhaled a plume of smoke. “To save you time, she’s in the training room. Said something about wanting to get some practice in.”

That got his attention. “By herself? You know she’s not the best at combat, you could have offered to help.”

She shrugged. “Didn’t think she needed my help.” Smoke seeped from her lips as she turned towards the open window. Nate would be pissed if she smoked up the living room too much. “Why don’t you go check in on her progress?”

Morgan didn’t have to look to know that Adam had already left. Shaking her head, she smirked and took another drag.

Adam hadn’t even gotten a few feet away from the training room’s doors when the sound of music hit him, the pop song familiar from Farah constantly blaring the tune from her bedroom at volumes loud enough to make the windows vibrate. Yet instead of being irritating, this version was both softened by being played on the piano and at a volume low enough that it was more than likely only barely audible to human hearing. His steps faltered as he listened to the rapid beating of Aubrey’s heart and the occasional hard slap of feet against the floor. Curiosity got the better of him and he quietly made his way to the door, opening it but not entering. Part of his reasoning was that he wanted to see how long it would take for the detective to be aware of his presence, but the other was because he wanted to observe her progress without her going tense or stopping only because she thought he was judging her progress and finding it lacking. She had the basics of combat covered due to her police training that he found satisfactory, but there was always a fear clawing at his gut that her training wouldn’t be enough to help her while facing more supernatural foes.

It was something that they were both going to have to work on, she to improve her skills and he to actually let her without worrying so much.

What he found Aubrey doing was definitely not practicing fighting stances. Adam stared transfixed as he watched her glide across the floor with a grace that he had only caught glimpses of in her everyday movements. Aubrey was definitely unaware of his presence as she rose fully onto her toes and performed a series of small steps before going into a pirouette and then making multiple turns around the room at a speed that should have made a human dizzy, but Adam only saw a look of utter peace and serenity on her face that made his chest constrict at the emotion she elicited from him.

She was beautiful. It was something he was well aware of, but seeing her dancing - something he knew she had loved and something that had pained her to leave behind - made it all the more obvious. Her arms moved to balance her as she rose again on one foot, her other leg lifting up and almost impossibly high near her head before she moved again, dropping her leg to extend it in front of her and folding herself over it in one fluid motion. She stayed like that for a moment and Adam was sure she would move into another dance position, but she suddenly folded in on herself and sat on the floor, her arms coming up to circle her knees as she let out a loud sob.

He was at her side before he even registered moving. “Are you hurt?” he asked, his eyes zeroing in on her left foot, hands going to her shoulders in concern. The ribbons of her shoes hid most of the silvery pale surgical scars he’d only glimpsed the few times he’d seen her barefoot, but nothing looked amiss.

Aubrey jumped, jerking up to look at him. “Adam?”

“You’re crying.” He couldn’t help but reach out and brush a tear away from her cheek, his breath catching when she tipped her head towards his hand.

“Oh.” Her hands went up to wipe at her face and she gave a little laugh. “I’m not hurt, at least I don’t think so.” He watched her flex her foot before she nodded in affirmation that everything was fine.

His brow furrowed in confusion. “Then why are you crying?”

She blushed and leaned back on her hands. “You know that before I joined the police force that I was a dancer. Becoming a ballerina was the only thing I’ve ever wanted to be since I was six. I spent twenty years dancing and after hurting myself and leaving, everything has felt...off, like something was missing in my life. The instructor at the dance studio down the road’s given me an open invitation to perform at any of her programs, but I keep telling her that I’m retired. I haven’t danced since, partly because I was afraid of hurting my foot again, but mostly because I was afraid.”

He sat down next to her. “Afraid of what?”

She bit her lip. “That I wouldn’t be able to do steps I used to be able to practically do in my sleep. That no matter how much warming up I’d done that I wouldn’t be able to dance without pain. That the part of myself I had put so much of my effort into had truly died and the hole in my chest I’ve felt ever since would never go away.” She laughed again, a trait that Adam had since realized was a nervous tell. “I told you I needed a lesson in self-assuredness.”

He let out a brief huff of laughter before sobering. “And now? Did you find the answers to your fears?”

“I did. I was so used to dancing at a certain pace and quantity that when the doctors told me that I’d hurt myself even more permanently if I kept it up, so my answer was to stop completely.” She tightened her arms around her knees. “My all or nothing thinking did more damage than risking the occasional recital or program here in Wayhaven making me miss my former schedule ever did.”

Anxiety suddenly latched its teeth into his chest. “Does this space displease you then?”

She jerked upright. “Displease me? Adam, this…” she glanced around at what she could only describe as a miniature dance studio. Whoever had built it could have shuffled her to a corner of the training room, but she had been given an equal amount of space as any of the other equipment that dotted the area. “This is wonderful.”

He let out the breath he had been holding. “Good. When your mother told us about your previous profession, I had hoped to give the architects enough direction to…” He stopped himself, heat dotting his face when he realized what he had said.

“You did this? For me?”

He frowned and tried to brush off the more serious implications his statement had brought up. “Even if you hadn’t utilized the space, an area for flexibility and agility practice would have…” Whatever he was going to say next was knocked away when Aubrey launched herself at him, her arms wrapping around his shoulders.

“Thank you,” she breathed, her cheek settling in the curve of his neck. She leaned back enough to look him in the eye. “I’ve felt so lost for so long, but this...this was me coming home.”

Adam reached up and brushed his fingers over her chin. “You’re crying again.”

“Happy tears, I promise.”

He should have moved away, but it felt right to bring his arms around her and hold her close, sighing as she hugged him again. “Happy or not, I don’t like being the cause of your tears. I shall try to not do anything to make you cry.”

She laughed, her breath warm against his throat. “Good luck. You should know by now that I tear up at the drop of a hat.” She paused. “You thinking of me as an equal part of Unit Bravo even back then really means a lot to me. I mean it, Adam.”

He rested his chin on the crown of her head and gave in to a little self-indulgence by pulling her in closer. “You’re welcome, Aubrey.” Reluctantly, he pulled away and got up. “Though I should probably apologize: Farah’s going to insist you teach her everything you know.”

Aubrey grinned and held her hands up so Adam could pull her to her feet. “I’m ready. I’ll have her in a leotard before she knows it.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

Her grin grew. “And maybe I just might have you doing some lifts before you know it too.”

He raised an eyebrow. “We’ll see about that.”

There was a beat where they were silent. Aubrey broke it by rocking back on her heels. “You know, this was just supposed to be a test to see if I could still dance, but I think I’m going to keep it up. Would you mind if I came by more often to practice?”

Adam tilted his head. “Why would I mind? Like you said, this is your home.” He gave her a fond smile. “Besides, it wouldn’t be unpleasant to see you here more often. Your natural agility and speed could come in handy to offset your combat prowess.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat at the way he looked at her, his eyes soft in the afternoon light. “Maybe once I knock all the rust off, I can give a mini-recital,” she joked.

“I’d like that.” Adam cleared his throat. “We’d like that. But in order for you to do so, you need time to practice. I’ll leave you to it.”

Aubrey watched as he left the training room and closed the door behind him. She couldn’t stop from rushing over to where her phone was to scroll through some more music. Where she had sort of butchered the flow of an actual class before to test if she could simply do the moves again, now she centered herself and began to practice in earnest. The years away had left her with muscles that still remembered how to move in the correct steps, even if being out of practice meant it took a little more effort to get into them. Even so, every plie and tendu made something dormant inside her unfurl and wake up, as if someone had opened a window to let a fresh breeze in.

Just outside the training room, Adam leaned against the wall and listened for a brief moment before heading down the hallway. “You knew she wasn’t training,” he said as he found Morgan in the kitchen.

“Never said she was,” she replied, not looking up from the apple she was slicing. “Besides, for her, I think that still counts as training. She needed that, you know.”

“So long as she doesn’t injure herself again.”

The scoff and rolled eyes were something Adam had grown used to. “She’s a grown woman, I think she knows what her body’s limits without you hovering.” She raised an eyebrow. “Though maybe she’d want you to hover, if you know what I mean.”

He scowled. “What are you doing?”

She gave him as innocent of a look as Morgan was capable of doing. “Nothing, Adam. Just making a snack.”

He looked down at the plate of sliced apples and cheese. “You hate cheese.”

“Didn’t say it was for me. Don’t know what sort of calories she’s burning, but…” she shrugged. “She’ll be hungry when she finishes in there.”

He dropped his defensive posture. “So you can be nice,” he teased.

“Fuck off, Adam,” she sneered, throwing the plate into the fridge. “She’s my…” She trailed off and shrugged.

“You can call her your friend. It won’t hurt.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Ha ha. That’s real rich, coming from you. But yeah. You’re supposed to do nice things for friends.”

Adam watched as she sauntered off. Leaning against the kitchen island, he grabbed an apple from the bowl Nate had put out earlier. Taking a bite, he frowned as he went over both the moment that he had with Aubrey and the conversation he just had with Morgan.

Maybe she’s right, he thought, pushing away from the island. He opened the fridge to make sure that there was a bottle of water set next to Morgan’s snack offering for Aubrey to find. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to admit certain things.

#wayhaven week 2020 #the wayhaven chronicles #twc detective #f!detective/adam du mortain #my writing #aubrey miller/adam du mortain #aubrey miller #adam du mortain

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wiener-soldiers · 4 years

Text

operation omega - AV-616 (ii)

summary: years after the avengers dismantle HYDRA, the group remerges more dangerous than ever. their modus operandi? infiltrating foreign governments, stealing and reproducing their weapons, and selling them to terrorist groups. when the us government approaches the avengers for help on a secret operation with a secret asset, they are reluctant to agree. it isn’t until their quinjet almost gets shot down in the middle of nowhere when the understand that omega means business.

pairing: bucky barnes x SEAL!reader

words: 2.2k

warnings: light swearing, mentions of violence

a/n: these chapters will get longer i promise

taglist: add yourself here!

OPERATION OMEGA MASTERLIST

Somehow, despite all the resource’s the Earth’s mightiest heroes had, they were all still crammed on the smallest Quinjet they had.

They had strict orders from Secretary Ross to pack lightly and take the smallest Quinjet they had. Despite saying that they may be at this location for several months, Ross said that everything they needed would be provided for them.

By who? He didn’t say.

There actually wasn’t much anyone knew about the secretive mission they were going on, aside from the debriefing packet full of intel Secretary Ross sent to them, coordinates to an unknown location and the fact that it was secret.

In all honesty, he had no problem with the mission being so secret. Tony and Steve seemed to trust Ross enough to understand that this mission was legitimate and important, but they still pressed for more answers every chance they got. Eventually Ross hissed something along the lines of, “It’s too fucking important for me to tell you over the phone,” which shut the both of them up really well.

Bucky was too used to just following orders, despite not grasping the whole picture—first in the army, then with HYDRA. Besides him and maybe Sam, he could tell that everyone else was a little on edge with the secrecy of it all.

“We should be there in fifteen minutes,” Clint calls from the cockpit.

“Wherever ‘there’ is,” Sam says quietly, causing a small fit of tired giggles to erupt in the cabin.

Bucky was hunched over, eyes trained on the strip of clear floor in the middle of the Quinjet. The Quinjet had no windows, so the clear strip in the floor was a good indicator of location. Wanda sat to his left and Banner to his right. He hadn’t really said much the whole flight, focusing on listening to Tony quietly discuss his concerns with Steve and figuring. And, of course, figuring out where the fuck they were going.

Wanda nudges his foot slightly, and Bucky immediately thinks, What?

Wanda then slides the toe of her foot towards the clear strip in the middle of the fuselage. Bucky knows that she’s asking; Did you figure out where we’re going?

No, Bucky thinks and Wanda sighs dejectedly beside him in response.

Wanda points to the clear strip with her toe once again, then taps on his knee twice. One tap, yes; two taps, no was one of their unspoken rules. Bucky once again knows she’s asking, Do you know where we aren’t going?

Bucky furrows his brow slightly and thinks, Not that close to a coast, probably still on this continent but I’m not sure which country. Temperate or boreal forests in the mountains, so we’re not that far south. But that’s all I got.

Wanda nods. A few beats later, she points to clear floor one final time before nodding in the direction of the cockpit, Does Clint know where we’re going? He has coordinates.

Bucky shakes his head and Wanda slumps in her seat, the back of her head hitting the fuselage wall behind her. The coordinates Ross was given were encrypted; Bucky thinks to her. He gave us an algorithm to decode it once autopilot was engaged, so no one know where we’re going except for the stupid computer.

Wanda’s silence is enough acknowledgement for him. They sit in more silence before Bucky thinks to her, Any more questions?

He can feel her roll her eyes amusedly and taps his knee twice, No.

Are you okay? Bucky asks once more.

One slightly aggressive tap to the knee, Yes, asshole.

“Okay, I’m just gonna say it,” Bruce says from beside Bucky. “Does anyone else find this extremely fishy? Ross—who we don’t work for, by the way—gives us intel about HYDRA and tells us we have a secret mission with a secret asset at a secret location and we’re all supposed to believe it? And how the hell is the public not gonna question why the Avengers basically disappeared for several months?”

“Don’t worry about PR, we have staged press releases lined up just in case something like this happens,” Natasha says from across from him. Bucky raises his eyebrow at her, and she shrugs in response.

“It’s clear what the mission is,” Steve answers from his spot in the cockpit. He is leaning against the co-pilot’s seat where Tony is sitting, reading the intel Ross gave them, “He wants us to take down HYDRA.”

“But how Steve? And why go through all this trouble?” Banner counters.

Before Steve can answer, a male voice cuts through the radio, forcing everyone to be quiet. Tony reaches forward and flips a switch, making it so the radio plays through the PA system.

“I’m sorry, say again?” Clint says as everyone stares at him with wide eyes.

“AV-616, you are in restricted airspace. State your purpose of flight now as defiance to do so will force me to ground your plane,” the stern male voice repeats itself.

Clint looks around the Quinjet with wide eyes before hesitantly saying, “I apologize. We were given coordinates and a flight path that requires us to fly through this location. Over.”

The line goes quiet for a little while and Steve hisses, “Barton, what the hell is going on?”

“If you get us shot down, I’ll kill you myself,” Sam grumbles, anxiously taping his foot.

“I did nothing but plug in the coordinates and that stupid algorithm Ross gave us. The flight plan is his shit, not mine,” Clint barks back.

“AV-616, do you copy?” A new voice cuts in. It’s a woman’s voice this time, Bucky notes and everyone glances at each other in surprise.

Clint clears his throat, “This is AV-616, I copy.”

“AV-616, that price on my head, was that dead or alive?” the woman asks, and the cabin goes silent.

Sam speaks first, “What the fuck is she talking about?”

Steve immediately goes into Captain mode, “Barton, figure out the fastest route out of here in case something goes wrong. We have the smaller Quinjet, use mountains as cover in case we try to get shot down. Stark, track all incoming projectiles, either in here or with your suit. Sam and Nat, prep any artillery. If something comes, I want you on guns—”

“Steve! This could be a code,” Natasha interrupts. “We’re at a secret location, maybe she just needs confirmation that we are supposed to be here.”

“AV-616, do you copy?” the woman asks.

“She’s right,” Banner says. He stands up and makes his way to the cockpit. “Tony, is there anything in the brief about a code?”

“Shit, let me double check—”

“Don’t remember. See if he starts shooting,” Bucky cuts in.

“Dude, what?” Sam asks him, eyeing him incredulously.

Bucky rolls his eyes, “It’s from a movie, dumbass.” He stands up and makes his way to the cockpit, motioning to Clint to turn on the radio to let him speak.

“This is AV-616, say again?” Bucky says.

The radio crackles from the other side of the line, “The price on my head, was that dead or alive?”

“Don’t remember. See if he starts shooting. Over,” Bucky says. He feels the entire cabin take a breath.

After what feels like a lifetime, the other end of the radio cackles once again, “AV-616, you’re clear to land. See you soon, over.”

The Earth’s mightiest heroes sigh in relief as Clint navigates towards the open field the coordinates led them to. Bucky catches Steve’s gaze and he offers the blond a slight smirk, “It’s from Inception. I’m surprised you didn’t recognize it, with it being on your list and all.”

Steve rolls his eyes, “Just get your stuff, jerk.”

The clearing, as it turns outs, wasn’t actually a clearing. As Clint got closer and closer to the ground, the suspecting grass shifts and slides to the side, revealing an underground hangar filled with three jets and other vehicles. As soon as the Quinjet hits the bottom and the cargo door opens, mechanical creaking is heard above, and the large steel doors slide shut.

Bucky wonders what feat of engineering was needed in order to pull that off.

At the bottom of the cargo door is a man in an all-black uniform. Something about him absolutely screams military to Bucky, but he can’t put his finger on it. It’s most likely his posture and the fact that standing so close to some of the most famous people in the world doesn’t phase him.

“Your late,” was the first thing he said, directed at Steve mostly. He notices striking similarities between the two; both with piercing blue eyes and blond hair. Steve stands a little taller, but the man’s gaze is way tenser than Steve’s natural one.

“Sorry, had a little trouble landing,” Steve retorts before sticking his hand out to shake.

“I’m Steve Rogers.”

The man grasps his hand, “Lieutenant Jackson Daniels. Call me Jack. It’s an honour, sir.”

Bucky was right about him being in the military.

He hears Tony snorts behind him, being the last one to leave the plane, “Jack Daniels? Like the whiskey?”

Jack smirks, “Whiskey was my call sign on SEAL Team Six. Feel free to call me that if you like, Mr. Stark.”

Sam lets out a low whistle and the rest of team let out quiet laughs as Jack shuts Tony up. Bucky can’t help but notice how Wanda stares at Jack’s face as he talks to Steve. He smirks and thinks, Didn’t know blonds were your type, Maximoff.

Suddenly, Bucky trips over seemingly nothing. He looks up and catches the magical red glow fade away from Wanda’s fingers. Bitch, he thinks to her. She smirks in response.

“If you’d all follow me, the rest of the team is waiting in the command room,” Jack calls out to the mass of people around him.

He leads them out of the hanger and towards an elevator. The elevator is huge and faster than what he’s used to. He catches Steve’s eye and offers him a slight smile.

“Doing okay, Cap? Little freaked out by your look-alike?” he asks, nodding towards Jack who is answering every question Tony throws at him either with a “No,” “That’s classified,” or “You’ll see.”

His best friend lets out a small laugh, “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Something this secretive?”

“Something that feels so…army. I dunno, it feels comforting. Familiar, I guess.”

Bucky offers him another smile, “I know what you mean.”

The elevator screeches to a halt and the thick steel doors slide open, revealing a network of dark hallways, grey walls, and concrete floors. Jack steps out first and gestures them to follow him, “You’ll all have your own rooms, but we should probably brief first.”

“Where are we?” Bruce asks, stepping out of the elevator hesitantly after him.

“I’m afraid telling you the exact location is classified. Hell, I don’t even really know,” Jack answers.

“Are you going to show us the asset?” Tony asks, following him out of the elevator as well.

“Asset?” Jack asks.

“Ross said we have a special mission with the asset.”

Jack smirks, “We’re the asset.”

“Who’s we?”

Tony’s question was answered not a second later. Jack lead them into a dark room being illuminated by desk lamps and screens covering literally every surface. There are five desks all in a line, with three monitors each. Bucky even noticed the tabletop was a screen, as each of the four desk occupants worked away in their desks. He assumed the unoccupied desk belonged to Jack.

“Captain, they’re here,” Jack shouted. No one sitting at their desks turned around and Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, until he followed Jack’s line of vision upwards. Behind the five desks was an elevated loft at the back of the room where one final desk sat. It was bigger than the others and had the best view of the collection of files, photos and videos projected on the wall across from it.

At the desk sat a woman, presumably Jack’s captain. Her eyes were trained to the screen in front of her until Jack called her name once again. Her eyes shifted toward his, then scanned the rest of the Avengers who had slowly filed in.

The woman then stands up. Sporting the same black cargo pants and boots as Jack as well as a grey tank top and dog tags, Bucky got the feeling that everyone on this team was ex-military, too.

The woman smirks at Jack slightly, “Omega, we got visitors. Look alive.”

The rest of the Avengers immediately recognize her voice as the voice from the radio. The watch as the walks down the stairs so she can speak to them. She stands beside Jack, facing the rest of the Avengers with a lazy smirk, “Sorry about landing. This base is secret, so we don’t want any unsolicited guests.”

Natasha counters, “Do you threaten to shoot everyone who flies by this place?”

“Only the people who don’t know the confirmation code. Or the people who don’t join this frequency when they’re a mile away. Which, by the way, you guys did neither,” the woman says nonchalantly, amused glare directed at Steve.

“We never got a—”

“It’s the first page of the briefing. That Inception quote was a last resort, which was also found in the briefing by the way. If none of you fuckers watched Inception, I would definitely shoot you down,” she cut Steve off.

“…That’s on me,” Tony sighed, “I skipped the first few pages because looking at all those protocols made me bored.”

“And with that, I’ll finally introduce myself. My name’s Captain Y/N Y/L/N. This is Omega.”

THREE: NAKED

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #buck barnes fic #sebastian stan imagine #bucky barns fanfiction #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fic #sebastian stan fanfiction #operation omega

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