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zepskies · 4 months

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Big & Tall

Pairing: Sam Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: You steal Sam’s shirt. But that simple theft comes at a big price.

Request: Can you write something where Sam notices the reader wearing his shirt?

Song Inspo: “Look At You” by Screaming Trees

Word Count: 2,200

Warnings: 18+ only to be safe. Fluff, thievery, kitchen shenanigans, implied smut, tinge of angst and feels.

It was an honest mistake, really.

After the latest hunt, Sam graciously offered to let you wash your clothes here in the bunker (since most of them were bloodstained). You had to pull a finished load from the dryer before you could use it, not knowing if it was Sam or Dean’s clothes you were shoving into a nearby basket.

When you later went back for your clothes in the dryer, you’d apparently grabbed one of Sam’s black undershirts in all the fabric shuffling.

An accident. Though you hadn’t realized it until you were back in the comfort of your borrowed room in the bunker, sitting on your bed and folding your laundry.

You pulled out one of those big-and-talls and took one good look—and you knew it could only fit perfectly on Sam Winchester’s extra-long torso.

A smile unconsciously drew across your face.

You knew you should just bring it over to him. His room was a mere two doors down the hall…but instead, you gave into the quiet, secret urge to fold it up and put it with the rest of your laundry, knowing full well you were going to use it from now on as a sleep shirt.

The thing was so long it reached halfway down your thighs. (AKA: the perfect length.) But you really didn’t think he would miss an old-ass undershirt like this one.

The next morning, you made sure you were dressed in some pajama pants, your most comfortable bra, and an old college shirt before you ventured out of your room and into the kitchen.

Predictably, Sam was already up and dressed for the day, making some coffee. It was early enough that Dean was likely asleep, or at least still getting himself together.

Sam turned and greeted you with a smile. “Morning.”

“Mhmm,” you nodded groggily, though you offered him a “pleasant” smile before you accepted a coffee mug from him.

Sam’s smile deepened slightly. He knew you weren’t a morning person. He sipped at his own mug while you held yours with both hands, raising it slowly to your lips. You closed your eyes at its hazelnut warmth; trust him to stock the fridge with your favorite creamer. You hummed in delight.

Sam’s gaze was warm on you too, though you didn’t realize it.

“Hey, uh…we’re running low on stuff. Want to go somewhere for breakfast?” he asked.

You met his gaze and had to stifle your smile this time.

“Sure,” you nodded. “Want to wait for Dean?”

Sam shrugged. “We can bring him something back.”

Interesting. Your smile grew, despite your best efforts.

“Okay. Let me just get dressed,” you said.

And maybe you’d put a little makeup on, fix your frizzy bedhead. Apparently you and Sam were going on a brunch date.

Not a real one though, you rolled your eyes at yourself as you trekked down the hall. You had known the Winchesters for a couple of years now, and had gone through some real scrapes together whenever they needed your help, or vice versa. They were quickly becoming part of your people. Your family.

…But never more than that, it seemed.

Your smile slowly fell before you reached your room. You just couldn’t know that Sam was staring after you, down the hall, with a similar contemplation on his face.

“Think Dean’ll crap his pants when he sees the Impala’s gone?” you remarked. You were the passenger while Sam drove. You knew he must've been savoring this, as it was one of the few times he’d ever sat in that seat.

“I left him a note,” Sam replied in amusement.

“Aw, damn,” you teased. “Here I thought we were going on Mission Impossible.”

He shook his head, but his smile kicked up at the corners. He paused when something occurred to him.

“Hey, by the way.” He turned to you in askance. “Did you happen to see one of my shirts when you were doing laundry yesterday?”

You perked up internally, but you tried to school your features into something more nonchalant. Casual. Yeah.

“Uh, no,” you replied. Somehow, even that small lie made you feel a prickle of guilt. “What color was it?”

“Black,” he said. Good thing he was focused on pulling into the diner’s parking lot, and not on your blushing face. “Can’t seem to find it.”

You averted your gaze and bit the inside of your lip so you wouldn’t smile.

“Sorry, haven’t seen it. I’ll keep a lookout though.”

After a nice morning with Sam (you brought back a breakfast burrito for Dean), you spent the rest of the day catching up on Game of Thrones with the brothers.

It was nice to have a rare day off, even if you spent most of it trying to ignore how your thigh was resting against Sam’s. How you could feel his warmth radiating from his arm, laid behind your head on the couch, and how if you’d just leaned over a few inches, you could’ve been resting against his flannel-covered chest.

God. You’re such a girl, you inwardly lamented at yourself. Fucking c’est la vie.

At their insistence, you spent another night at the bunker while you rested up. That werewolf hunt had been particularly brutal on everyone, especially your wounded side. It was already starting to heal, but would definitely be uncomfortable while driving.

Now, ordinarily you weren’t one to let that keep you down…though it did give you an excuse to stay a little while longer.

When you all finally called it a night, you took a long, hot shower and pulled on the shirt over your underwear. It now kind of felt like contraband, but that thought also amused you. It also made you feel closer to him, in whatever small, pathetic way.

You spent the next couple of hours trying and failing to fall asleep in your room. You tried listening to music, daydreaming, even counting damn sheep for what that was worth, but your brain was wide awake.

You blew out an irritated sigh into the darkness and silence.

And then your stomach growled. Ugh, fine!

You got up. It was late enough at night that you didn’t bother changing clothes, lest you be spotted by a wild moose. You just padded out barefooted down the hall and into the kitchen, where you raided the fridge.

Geez, Sam was right about them being low on options, you thought as you perused a damn near empty fridge. There was milk and creamer, a couple cases of beer (of course), some crumpled ketchup packets, and a half-eaten burger that already had something fuzzy growing on it.

This is just sad. You grimaced, but you stuck your head in closer to see if you could find anything in the back. If you only knew about the hot gaze on your ass.

“Midnight snack?”

The voice, though familiar, startled the shit out of you. You banged your head on the edge of the freezer door when you jumped on reflex. You cried out and your hand flew to the back of your head, just before a larger hand covered yours.

You glanced up at found Sam’s handsome face—very apologetic, but somehow silently laughing.

“Uh, sorry. You okay?” he asked.

“Y-Yeah,” you replied. You faltered a bit as you realized how close he’d gotten, staring down at you with those earnest hazel eyes. But those eyes soon dipped and took in the rest of you…clad in only a black shirt that brushed your bare thighs.

You watched it start to compute on his face, in the tilt of his head, and the subtle raise of his brows.

“Is that my shirt?” he asked.

Your lips twitched, despite your blushing embarrassment.

“No,” you replied.

His gaze flicked up to yours. He smiled a little incredulously.

He knew you were a filthy liar. But you slipped your hand from under his and crossed your arms under your breasts, leading him to drop his hand from your hair.

“It’s soft…and comfy,” you said lamely. And you wished it smelled like him.

Sam was amused, and a little surprised…and undoubtedly turned on. He couldn’t help but notice your bare legs, the smooth expanse of skin, the suggestion of curves under his shirt, and the firm peaks of your nipples through the fabric.

“Okay. You can keep it,” he said, when his gaze finally drew back up to yours. “For a price.”

Your face felt hot. Your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth for a moment, but somehow you managed to answer him.

“Name it,” you said gamely. Your stance became an unspoken challenge.

Sam’s lips drew closer to a smile.

He reached for your chin and tilted your face up towards his. There was a moment of uncertainty there, as if he was giving you time to pull away, if you wanted to.

The truth was, you were holding your breath. It felt like you’d been waiting a small eternity for this exact moment.

Your arms uncrossed. Slowly you reached for him, grabbing onto the front of his blue flannel, and he bent down to you. When his lips finally touched yours, it almost short-circuited your brain. You inhaled deeply and melted a bit, raising your hand to the back of his head to keep him there.

You felt the gentle way he caressed your cheek, and later the strength in his hands when he molded them to the curve of your waist and pulled you in close. You wrapped your arms around his neck in response, and the kiss became a fierce, sloppy meeting of lips.

His tongue swept across your bottom lip and sought entrance. You welcomed him in with a wordless moan.

Your fingers slipped into his hair, nails grazing his scalp. It earned you a deep sound of pleasure from his mouth into yours. Soon enough, those same strong hands were roaming down your waist and hips, then squeezing your ass, and pressing you against the hard planes of his body. You also felt the hardening length of him against your stomach.

“Sam,” you gasped against his lips.

That seemed to pull him out of the frenzied haze. Panting for breath though he was, he broke from you, pulling away far enough to look down at you with furrowed brows. There was a question in his eyes that he still voiced.

“Too much?” he asked.

It was a loaded question, but you thought you could read them all.

Do you want this? Do you really want me? We can stop…

Your answer was simple. You pulled yourself up on your toes and claimed his lips with a devouring kiss. Sam’s eyes closed on a sharp inhale, but his hold on you tightened again. He bent down to move his hands down the back of your thighs, and he squeezed twice, wordlessly encouraging you to jump for him.

You had electricity in your veins and a warm pulsing between your thighs. In your frazzled state, you did your best to jump up, but he helped you the rest of the way. You were able to wrap your legs around his waist, though you let out a small yelp at being vaulted so high.

Now you had the rare privilege of looking down at Sam’s amused face. You smiled down at him, caressing his cheek.

“I think I want a tour of your room,” you said.

“Good,” Sam replied. Despite the care he took in how he held you, you saw the hunger in his eyes. “I could go for a midnight snack.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at that. You clung to his shoulders as he carried you down the hall and into his room, where he locked the door behind him.

The man was a furnace, you discovered, after your skin was dewy and glistening against his, and the sheets laid tangled between your bare legs.

He held you to his chest while he recovered on his back. You rested there, just enjoying the sound of his heartbeat slowly coming down from its race. His fingertips traced lazy patterns up and down your naked back.

Sam had taken great pleasure in tossing the shirt along with his other clothes onto the floor. Your panties had been flung to parts unknown.

You smiled at the thought, while your nails made delicate tracks of their own across his slightly furry chest.

“What’re you thinking?” he asked you. Quiet and steady.

With a sigh, you pushed up onto your elbow on his pillow, so you could see his face. Your hand found his cheek. There his stubble pricked against your palm, and you drew your thumb tenderly across his his lower lip.

“I’m hoping you want more from this than one…very awesome night,” you confessed.

Sam smiled, reaching up to grasp your wrist gently. It was a different kind of touch, where just a few moments ago, he’d pushed your body damn near to its limits. And yet, he knew his own strength. Controlled, even in his bed.

“Yeah, I do,” he replied, though his eyes gradually fell from your face. “I’ll be honest, it uh…scares me a little.”

“What does?” you asked with a frown. You waited until he looked up at you again.

“This matters to me,” he said at last. “You matter to me.”

And the people that mattered all too often got taken away from him.

Your throat constricted. Because in his wary eyes, you could almost see the thoughts that were likely plaguing his mind. Things that might’ve kept him from this night with you for so long.

In that moment, you made a decision. You lowered down to press a gentler kiss to his lips.

“Then let’s give it a try,” you said.

AN: It got a little angstier than I intended there at the end lol, but I went with it! I so hope you guys enjoy this. I love me some Sam. 💜

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Sam W. Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords

@deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @siampie @violetlilysunshine @nic-kolas @hobby27 @idiotdyslexic

@pizzagirlxnsfwx @malindacath @brujaporfavor @torchbearerkyle @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @deans-daydream @adoringanakin @sanscas @pap3rtigers @kaleldobrev @nix-rose @angelbabyyy99 @jackles010378

#big and tall #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x female reader #spn #reader request #stealing Sam's shirt #supernatural #sam winchester smuttish #fluff #tinge of angst #zepskies writes

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slashmagpie · 7 months

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Pearl and Gem glance at each other. Then, as one, they glance back at Tango, who is, evidently, not Tango.

“Do we have an amnesiacold on our hands?” Gem asks.

“Maybe,” says Pearl, glancing back at Tango again. “Tango, buddy, you feeling alright?”

“I—” Tango opens his mouth. Closes it again. “I mean, I’m a little under the weather, to tell you the truth—I ate a South African sausage and it disagreed with me.”

Pearl hums. “And it’s messed with your memory a bit, right?”

“Yes! I mean, no—I mean, how did you—?”

“Would you say that you have a bit of an amnesiacold, Tango?” asks Gem.

“Amnesiacold?”

“You know. Amnesiacold!” Gem says. “When you get sick and forget everything and feel like somebody else?”

“Ah.” Tango pulls himself to shore. Frowns. “It’s more of an amnesia-food-poisoning, if I’m honest.”

Pearl winces. “Your poor digestive system.”

“It’s not very nice Pearl, I’ll tell you that much,” Tango says, voice low, one hand pressed against his stomach as he pulls a face.

“Okay, that’s enough, I don’t need to hear about your gut issues,” Gem interrupts. “But—you have an amnesiacold! You know, I was an amnesiacold last season.”

“You mean, you had an amnesiacold?”

“No, I was one.” Gem winks. “Like—Tango has an amnesiacold. But you? You’re the amnesiacold. You know?”

Tango’s shoulders hike up with discomfort. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m Tango. And I think you guys should—should skadoodle somewhere else. Should bother-someone-else-ificate. Begone.”

“I had an amnesiacold last season, you know,” Pearl says. “Gem was one. You can tell us, buddy, we’re not gonna tell anyone.”

“Promise,” Gem says with a nod. “This is a safe space! You don’t have to pretend to be someone you’re not with us.”

Tango stares at them for a long, long moment, then sags, face falling. He looks exhausted, suddenly, and Pearl feels a rush of sympathy. It can’t be easy, being thrown into the game halfway through, with no context for anything.

“It’s been rough, dudes,” Tango says, voice cracking. “It’s been really really rough. I forgot how hard it was to get anything done on this server! There’s so much chaos, and—”

Wait.

“Ren?”

Not-Tango grins. “In the flesh,” he says with a bow of his head. “Or… not my flesh, exactly.”

“Ren?” Gem asks, tilting her head in confusion.

“Oh, that’s right, you’ve never met…”

Gem and Ren peer at each other for a moment. “You do look familiar,” Ren says eventually.

“Yeah,” Gem agrees. “I mean, obviously you look familiar—you look like Tango!—but… yeah.”

They stare at each other for a moment more.

“Maybe we met in a dream?” Ren says at last.

Gem nods. “Sure. Makes as much sense as anything else.”

Pearl glances between them, rocking awkwardly back on her heels. She clears her throat, drawing their attentions back to her. “Welcome back, buddy,” she says to Ren. “Good to see you again.”

“I wish that I could say the same,” Ren says morosely. “I thought I was—I was done, Pearl.” Now that she knows it's Ren, she can hear his cadence in Tango’s voice, voice dropping rough and low with drama as he bows his head. “I was done. No more games, not for the ol’ diggity dog. And now… Here I am!” He laughs a little, stretching out his arms to indicate the server at large. “In a body that’s not mine, in a world I’ve never seen, in a game I do not understand.”

“Oh, Ren…” Pearl frowns. She doesn’t know what to say.

Gem jumps in. “Hey, it’s okay! It’s just one session, you know? You can do one session!”

“I suppose I must.” Ren looks up at them, jaw tightening. “If I am here—I suppose I must.”

“I’d never been in any of these games before I was Cleo for a bit last season,” Gem says. “So you have an advantage there! And, hey—maybe you can come back next season, and we can meet for real?”

Ren shifts uncomfortably. There’s something heavy hanging about him, something Pearl can’t quite understand. She remembers the last time she’d seen him, skull caved in from the dripstone spike dropped on his head. She remembers her own amnesiacold, the exhaustion that had dragged at her before it had settled in, the memories that had plagued her and just wouldn’t go away. And she wonders—

Just how exhausted would you have to be that your body would have to leave as well as the rest of your self?

Just how sick would you have to be before you didn’t want to come back?

Still, Ren steadies himself. Quirks Tango’s mouth into a smile. “Maybe,” he says, meeting Gem’s gaze. “That would be nice, to meet for real.”

#secret life #spoilers #fanfiction #obligatory post-session ficlet time!#there was so much going on this session i could have gone with almost anything for this #but amnesiacolds is where we landed #this one is very much playing with martyn's lore which i think is very fun #also. i miss rendog when will he come back from the war ;-;#magpie feather quill

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totallyhextra · 8 months

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People? In MY computer?? It's more likely than you think!

The following is a fanvertisment and is not connected to the show. ****Yet.*** *Also yes, this is the fourth time I'm posting this because TUMBLR WONT LET ME EDIT SPELLING MISTAKES!

ANYWAY,

Once upon a time, back in 1987, Dire Straits put out this music video for “Money for Nothing”, which, as you know, was a song about wanting my MTV.

youtube

The video was made by two guys (Gavin Blair and Ian Pearson) on a very moody computer. After the video went out, these two guys went to a pub:

Ian: “Hey, we should make a whole show like this!”

Gavin: “Dude, making three minutes almost killed us.”

And so it was decided!🎉

The two guys were joined by two other guys (Phil Mitchell and John Grace) and created the Hub, which then became Mainframe Entertainment. They got even more people, and then they all holed up in this hotel.

They were mad lads with a dream: a whole cgi animated show, and they made it happen a whole year before Toy Story!

Behold! ReBoot!

(Yes that fever dream was real)

Now before I get any of this:

Let me lay this down. If you can’t with the animation of the first season because it was CUTTING EDGE IN 1994, you can close your eyes and listen to it. ReBoot wasn’t just a CGI gimmick. The characters are fully developed, the voice actors are peerless, the plot is sharp, and there’s so many easter eggs that you’ll never find them all.

Never

(And yes the episode "Bad Bob" was the actual catalyst for Fury Road. Look it up)

ReBoot is about what life is like in a computer (in the 90s, because it was the 90s) called Mainframe (because of course it is). People are sprites, the guys that look like 1s and 0s are binomes (which represent 1s and 0s). Bad guys are viruses, and the good guy is a Guardian named Bob, who is a certified cinnamon roll.

In the first season the eps are light and self-contained, mainly because there was constant friction between the Mainframe studios and the Board of Standards and Practices.

They still got away with some pretty dark stuff, like Megabyte (virus) making Enzo (the kid) watch his dog get sliced open (dog got away, obviously) , Dot (sprite) have a hallucinatory breakdown, and the fridge horror of realizing the thousands of worm things (nulls) that plunged off a bridge to their death were actually people.

And Hex's (virus

best girl) scary face single-handedly traumatized an entire generation. 🙂

But busting through a window was a no go, because WhAt If tHe cHiLdReN dID iT tOo?

Anyway, halfway through the second season, ABC cut them loose, so they were like, fuck it, we’re going to start going hard. The story shifted from episodic to arcs and things start to get serious.

Third season the show moved to YTV in Canada, which gave no fucks about shielding the innocent children.

So it got DARK

How dark?

The UK refused to show the entire season, so the audience there had to wait until pirated copies made it across the pond to see how it ended.

Also by 1997, the animation was gorgeous. (Best example of third season animation I could think of that didn't have spoilers)

youtube

The show was green-lit for a fourth season on Cartoon Network, but halfway through production Warner Bros took over and the same fucking thing happened.

Because Mainframe was halfway done, they decided not to scrap all of it, but knowing they wouldn't be able to finish it correctly, Mainframe stripped anything that would hint at Season Four's true ending, then left what remained on a cliff-hanger of angst.

FOR 22 YEARS

(It's also why the last four eps of season four seem to make no sense)

And so it was.

Other crap happened, the soul left Mainframe, and its animated corpse spat out “The Guardian Code” in 2018.

But never say die! The year is (almost) 2024, 30 years later. ReBoot shall rise from the dead, because here come the documentary!!

youtube

Do you dare see what you’ve been missing?

What the (UK) government doesn’t want you to know??

Then come on down to ReBoot!

We got:

Magnificent bastards with sexy voices!

youtube

(Tony Jay at his best)

Kickass women who could probably crush your head with their thighs and you’d enjoy it!

Innuendos in a kid's show!

youtube

💗 This adorable cinnamon roll!! 💗

Insane third season glow-ups!

YOUR NEW GOD

These guys!

(Gay roller-skating binome is my boi. I named him Jerry)

Nonstop cultural refs (You'll never find them all. Never.)

(There are literally videos dedicated to trying)

So many computer puns!

Body Horror!

Existential Crisis!

HAVE I MENTIONED YOUR NEW GOD?

youtube

This is it, folks! The real thing, the gem hidden in the moose-filled forests of Canadia!🌲🌲🌲

Take a trip inside a mid-90’s computer!

See the World Wide Web! (omg):

Witness the original purple Gamecubes that randomly fall from the sky when the owner of the computer (OUR GOOD LORD THE USER) wants to play a game. If it lands on people and they lose, they dissolve into mindless energy leeches, fated to tormented by their former bretheren for all of eternity.

Just like in real life! 🙃

So watch the eps! They on YouTube!

youtube

I think they're on Pluto, Hulu, Sling, and Tubi too! Also DVDs for people who have the patience to wait for them!

WATCH! BELIEVE! SUFFER THE SOUL-CRUSHING RAGE OF THE SEASON 4 CLIFF-HANGER!* (come on, its fun!)*

HYPE THE DOC!

The more people hype, the better the chances of actually getting it finished.

NOW SHARE THIS WITH EVERYONE!

And now I will leave you with this screenshot from the ep "Painted Windows", where dicks can clearly be seen drawn upon the wall behind the fleeing anthropomorphized television.

(PS: If you heard the clown pic at the top of the page in your head, you're welcome)

IMPORTANT UPDATE

This message is now approved by Gavin Blair! He's an awesome guy. Show him some love on TWITTER (fuck you musk) at @TheRealMrSweary Also, if you want to share this with non-tumblr friends, here is my attempt at a webpage version:

theseventhstarprojects.com/REBOOT.html

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daisynik7 · 7 months

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if your karaoke event is still open i’d like to request glamorous by fergie with sugar daddy!nanami - fluff and smut, maybe some mile high inspired by “We flyin' the first class, up in the sky” thanks!

Glamorous

We flyin' the first class up in the sky

Pairing: Nanami x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.4k

cw: established relationship, smut - semi-public sex, vaginal sex (cowgirl position), dry humping, clitoral stimulation, pet names, slight daddy kink

Summary: Your sugar daddy takes you halfway across the world in first class, so naturally, things get a little naughty.

Author’s Note: Love love love sugar daddy!Nanami and this is such a classic for the y2k karaoke party. Thanks for the request and I hope you like this! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune (as always).

You make it very obvious that you’ve never been in first-class before. As Nanami holds your hand, leading you down the aisle, you audibly gasp at how large the seats are, and how there are actually barriers for privacy. You’ve only ever seen this on Youtube or Instagram, never in real life. And now, you’re here, about to experience it for yourself! It’s crazy how your life has taken a drastic turn in just a few short months.

Nanami was your first customer at the bakery you opened in the beginning of the year. He ordered two croissants, one plain and the other almond. He sat at a table, savoring each bite slowly. When he was done, he approached you, complimenting your pastry skills. You noticed flaky crumbs scattered on his tie as he was turning to leave, and without thinking properly, you tugged on it, pulling him towards you, patting at his chest with heat surrounding your cheeks. In that moment, the both of you were already smitten with each other. It took a month for you to figure out how well-off he is. It wasn’t because he was hiding it or anything; it just never mattered much to either of you. When you put the pieces together, sure, you were surprised. But even before that, you were falling fast for him. This extra bit is just an added bonus.

The flight attendant directs you to your assigned section all the way towards the back of the plane, somewhat secluded from the other passengers. You settle into the seat by the window, appreciating how comfortable it is compared to all the other regular economy class you’ve sat in. The excitement must be showing on your face because Nanami lets out a small laugh, watching you with an amused smile on his face. “Having fun?”

You grin at him. “Maybe a little too much.”

He holds your hand, placing soft kisses between your knuckles. “Well, keep enjoying it, my love. It’s going to be a long flight. Thank you again for accompanying me on this business trip. Are you sure the bakery will be okay?”

You wave him off. “It’s in great hands, so don’t worry about it at all. I’m just happy to be here with you.”

“Me too,” he says, leaning in to kiss you on the lips. He lingers for longer than you expect, then brushes past your cheek to whisper in your ear, “Can’t wait to get you on top of me.”

You tap on his chest playfully, heat surrounding your face, flustered. “Kento, we’re in public.”

He tips his head to the side. “And…?”

“We can’t do it here. Not when there’s people around.”

He reaches for the door, sliding it shut. If you didn’t already know that you were amongst others, it truly does seem like you have your own private space. “Is this better?” he asks.

You roll your eyes at him despite the fluttering in your belly, thrilled about the possibilities. “Behave yourself.”

He plants a smooch on your cheek, acting innocently. “Okay, sweetheart. Whatever you say.”

~~~

More than thirty thousand feet up in the air, four hours into the flight, and the best airplane food you’ve ever had in your life properly digested, you and Nanami are ready for bed. All the cabin lights are dimmed low and the flight attendants check in one last time before wishing you goodnight. Your boyfriend closes the door quietly then reclines his seat halfway, resting his palms behind his head. He glances at you, smirking as he closes his eyes completely shut. “Well, goodnight.”

You study him silently, wondering if you should jump on this opportunity to do something naughty or if you should just go to sleep, like a good girl. He peeks at you with one eye, catching your gaze. “Something on your mind?” he asks, as if he already knows the answer.

You shrug, unsure how to bring it up without eating your words from earlier. Luckily, he doesn’t make you. He beckons you over, patting his lap, voice low and sultry. “Come here.”

Worried that everyone on the outside of your pod will become aware of the nefarious deed you’re about to commit, you move quietly, stripping down to your underwear before you straddle him, arms linked behind his neck. He stares up at you, a pleased expression on his face, expecting this. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist.”

So maybe he makes you eat your words just a tad bit.

You bite your lip, holding back whimpers as you grind on him, feeling his cock starting to harden after a few strokes back and forth. His grip is firm on your hips, barely guiding you, letting you be in control. He reaches towards you, pressing his thumb to your clothed clit, relishing the wet spot beginning to leak through the fabric of your panties. A moan escapes you, leading to him cover your mouth with his palm, chuckling. “Honey, you have to promise to be quiet, okay? I know how loud you can get.”

You nod. “I’ll be quiet, I promise,” you whisper against his skin.

He smiles, fingers at your chin, thumb grazing the outline of your lips. “Good girl. Now make yourself come before I give you this cock.”

Remaining still, he lets you dry hump him slowly, savoring it with his grip still firm on your hips. His breathing wavers, trying to maintain his composure, gradually unraveling from the anticipation of soon being buried in your wet cunt. As soon as you reach your first orgasm, panties soaked with your arousal, he shrugs his bottoms off just enough to free his stiff cock, glistening with precum at the tip. He reaches for the bag beside him, retrieving a bottle of lube from one of the pockets, squirting it onto his palm to coat his cock with it. His eyes never leave yours, licking his lips like he’s salivating.

You lift off your knees, trying to remove your underwear, but he brings you back to him, rutting his shaft against the dampness of your panties. “Don’t. I want you like this.” He hooks the fabric to the side, tapping his wetted tip at your clit before sliding his entire length inside you. You cling to him tighter, nestling your face into his shoulder, holding back your moans.

He begins thrusting up into you while he bounces you on his dick, his fingers digging into your flesh. “Fuck,” he mutters, brows tight with concentration. One hand glides to your ass cheek, squeezing it. For a brief moment, it hovers over your skin, and before you can convince not to do it, he slaps your ass, the smack surely loud enough for any of your neighbors to her.

You hiss his name, heat engulfing your entire body now. “Kento!” All he does is laugh, kissing you sloppily to prevent you from scolding him any further.

The seat beneath you starts creaking noisily when Nanami picks up the pace, fucking you feverishly, sweat beading from his forehead. You gain a second wind, riding him deep as he plays with your clit once more, rubbing it between his fingers. “Fuck, daddy,” you whine, grinding on him, cunt squeezing around him as you approach your second orgasm.

“That’s it, princess. Come for me. Make a fucking mess for daddy,” he growls, thrusting faster, harder, fingers squelching lewdly on your swollen bud. You come for him, whimpering into his mouth as you kiss each other passionately. He comes shortly after, shooting his hot load inside you, filling you up with his cream pie.

Before you can relax in each other’s arms as you normally would post-sex, there’s a gentle knocking on the door, startling you both. You hop off him, kicking your discarded pants somewhere hidden, retreating back into your seat, covering yourself quickly with a blanket. Nanami pulls his pants back up, doing the same, clearing his throat before answering, sliding the door just a crack. “Yes?”

The flight attendant beams at you, seemingly oblivious to what just occurred. “Your call light is on, so I’m just checking in!”

Nanami blushes, running his fingers through his hair. “I must have hit it on accident. Sorry about that.”

They smile, giving you both a knowing wink. “Don’t worry. Happens all the time. Enjoy the rest of your night.”

With that, Nanami shuts the door, hiding his laughter behind his hand as you huddle beneath the blanket, mortified at being caught, officially a member of the mile high club.

#nanami smut #kento nanami smut #nanami kento smut #nanami x reader #nanami kento #nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #kento nanami #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #y2k karaoke party #milestone event

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thisismeracing · 6 months

Text

Charlieverse | CL16

― Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader ― Word count: 2.1k ― Warnings: mentions of alcohol and Halloween costumes (clowns, werewolves, and others). ― Summary: When Yn decided to go to a Halloween party with her best friend, Charles Leclerc, she did not consider that some of the fantasies would be so close to reality that they would terrify her. But one thing Yn had no idea about too, was Charles’ feelings for her. All Hallow’s Eve is not the most romantic scenario to confess your feelings, but it might be just the perfect one for them.

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There are many sayings about how sharing is caring, and how life feels bigger and better when you do so.

Charles knew this all too well.

He was used to sharing everything with you since he was a kid.

It all started after you forgot your snack at home. He was only five years old then, but he had two brothers so he knew exactly what to do. Little Charles offered to share his bag of colored goldfish and grapes with you. The next day you shared your coloring pencils with him. It started with simple things, and it grew as you both grew older. All through the school years, Charles and you were inseparable, even with his crazy racing schedule. You would take notes for him, he would bring you stories, and you would study together until late hours. You shared your fears, deepest feelings, and even the shame of being underdressed when invited to a party such as now.

“I had no idea people would go this hard,” you state, watching as the Taxi driver came to a halt in front of the big doors. Gathered in front of the mansion were people dressed as all kinds of gore Halloween beings, some of the makeup seeming too real to your liking.

“We can go back home and change if you want,” there’s Charles' tranquil voice. He is always the one to keep his patience even if the world is ending, and you love that about him.

You shake your head, “We would never find something else in time, plus, we’re together, so… here’s to another good story,” you point to your matching costumes, and Charles smiles.

You’re both wearing Spiderman costumes. Though it felt like the best choice, the easiest one, you should have guessed it was too easy and, therefore, not ideal.

Charles gives you one last wink before putting on his mask. You do the same just as he opens the door for you, and hand in hand you walk through the crowd into the house. You cling to your best friend’s arm trying to stay as far away as possible from some of the costumes.

“You sure you’re ok over there?” Charles asks when you’re halfway to the kitchen, and you tighten your grip on his hand.

You nod, “Yeah, just.. That werewolf costume seems too realistic.” And there’s no need for you to explain to him. He knows you like he knows the back of his hand, his favorite track, his most played song. Charles knows that someone planted a seed of fear about some creatures when you were little, and some of the stories have stayed with you even after you grew. It is a bit curious how despite your fears, you still love Halloween, at least the kind of parties you go to where people will dress in a way that clearly shows that they are human beings and meant no harm.

Were you supposed to guess that a certain crazy clown costume was a mere costume after seeing people being killed by those?

You wouldn’t stay to answer that question.

When you finally reach the kitchen, both of you take off the mask to your friends, hugging and making your rounds. Charles grabs you two a drink and you choose to stay there instead of mingling and risking bumping into scary figures.

“Can you get me another of these?” You mouth to Charles pointing at your empty cup. From across the kitchen, he nods, and a few seconds later he’s in front of you with a full cup.

“They were out of ice, is it ok if we share this one?” he asks over the music and you nod. You’re sitting on the counter, and when Charles turns to your friends he stands right between your legs. One of your hands goes to his shoulders, and you keep talking about your costume as if your heart weren’t hammering inside your ribcage, almost coming out from your throat the second his hand finds your knee, holding it so your anxious bounce can cease.

You gulp trying to keep your attention on whatever your friend is talking about because all your mind can focus on is your best friend’s hand on you, his body radiating warmth into yours. And not that it is unusual for Charles to touch it, quite the opposite, he loves to hug and kiss those he cares about, but it’s just lately your heart seemed to wish for a different kind of sharing.

It wants to share the secret touches. It wants to claim hungry kisses, tears of happiness, loud silences, and whispered mysteries. It is as if your heart created a reality where you had all of this with Charles.

Your own Charlie-verse.

The party keeps going in full swing, and Charles never leaves your side for over thirty minutes. He comes and goes always checking if you’re ok and if you want to go with him, but you choose the safety of the counter and your crowd of friends. The conversation is good, and so is the booze, from the kitchen you can see a bit of the living room and the pool area through the glass doors.

And it’s only when part of the girls decide to go dancing that you hop off the counter, and grab Charles’ hands following him in the direction of another crowd of friends. You’re tipsy enough to lace your fingers with his and to tighten your grip when you pass people dressed as clowns, werewolves, and with fake open wounds.

You end up in the pool area in front of Charles, he holds your body protectively against his, while his other hand has a cup you’re still sharing. The conversation is between the group, but every once in a while something will catch his attention and he’ll whisper about it in your ear, to which you’ll slightly turn your head, chuckle, and then answer him.

Though you felt a bit out of place at first with how everyone’s costumes seemed so extra compared to yours, you and Charles have had a lot of fun. So much so that you have given up going back home and decided to share a cab to his apartment.

Half of the ride a tipsy Charles is lecturing you with his “I told you so” about how he suggested you slept at his place and you denied it before the party. You just rest your head on his shoulder and pretend you are listening to his non-stop rant.

As it happens, the driver seems a bit uninterested in Charles’ rant because he turns the music on, and the last song that starts playing when he makes the curve into Charles’ street is Michael Jackson. You shriek and start jumping on the car seat.

“Chérie, it’s late,” your best friend tries to reason, but you just giggle.

“You have soundproof walls.”

“But not windows,” he tries again, and you playfully roll your eyes before getting out of the car wishing the driver a good night.

“Annie, are you okay?” you start to sing as you reach the elevators, and Charles just fakes a sigh, holding you close by the waist.

“So, Annie, are you okay? Are you okay, Annie?” you sing loudly until you reach the penthouse.

“Love, that’s not Smooth Criminal’s dance, that’s Thriller…” Charles holds back his laughter when you start a made-up choreography in his living room. “Oh mon dieu, you’re so precious.”

You giggle, smacking a loud kiss on his warm cheeks. While you make your track to the bathroom Charles goes to the kitchen.

“I’m using the guest bathroom! Go shower on the main one, you stinky!” you scream from the corridors and you hear his scoff, almost able to picture his eye roll.

You go through your shower on autopilot, brushing your teeth, and reaching for one of Charles’ shirts that are on the guest bedroom bed. Your visits have been so frequent you have everything you need there, but tonight you didn’t want one of your pajamas, you want to indulge in the daydream that your mind is harnessing.

When you reach your favorite Monegasque bedroom you can hear the shower still running, so you settle in the middle of his bed, staring at the ceiling. Somewhere in your head, there’s still music playing and your body seems to have kept a bit of the buzzing from the party. The distant noises coming from the open windows, along with the wind hitting the curtains lull you into a soft slumber, that only goes away when a door closes, you guess it's his closet, you smell his body wash and shampoo before he steps close to you.

There’s too much happening inside your head, so you choose to stay in silence while your best friend watches you attentively, eyes finding yours in a beat.

Charles, on the other hand, doesn’t have much in his head. He only has you. Your smell, your laugh, your voice, your body on his bed wearing his shirt.

“You’re the prettiest person I’ve ever seen,” his mouth works faster than his brain does, and just like that you’re staring at him in confusion.

It’s like his brain is shortcircuited.

Charles gets up from the bed.

He walks to the door, then turns around and comes back to your side. There’s a crease between his brows and you have known him long enough to identify it as worry.

“Sharls, what’s going on?”

“I’m not drunk ok? Before you say anything, I’m not drunk, I’m just tipsy like you,” he starts and you nod from your spot on the bed. “I am so sorry, but I have to tell you this, and I’ll completely understand if you don’t feel the same, but I have to take this out of my chest, Yn.”

Sensing how serious the situation is you sit up, legs crossed one over the other, hands tucked under them.

“I- uhm… See- It’s like this, I-”

“Charles,” you call.

“I’m in love with you,” he spills in a single sentence, but then he keeps going. “I love you so fucking much it’s starting to hurt the fact that I’ve been keeping it from you. And I don’t even know when it started, but I’m so used to sharing everything with you, I just.. I wanted us to share more. I wanted to share my bed with you, and my clothes, and-” he points with his fingers before you could say something, “And I know we already share those things, but I want to do it differently. I want to share romantically. I want to share my heart with you, Chérie, all of it. But I’ll understand if you’re confused or overwhelmed by my outburst, in fact… shit… I should have waited in case you wanted to go home right? Please, tell me that if you don’t feel the same you’ll at least get the farthest guest bedroom, I promise I won’t bother you, we’ll pretend it didn’t happen in the morning and I-”

“No,” you interrupt.

“Pardon?”

“I said no, I won’t sleep in the farthest guest bedroom.”

“Oh- then let me drive you, just…– fuck I can’t I drank… uhm I’ll–”

“No, Charles, stop,” you get on your knees on the mattress and reach for his arm, bringing his body close to yours.

“No, I’m not sleeping in the guest bedroom because we’re sharing a bed tonight. No, I’m not mad about your admission, I’m sharing my heart with you too. Romantically,” you confess.

His shoulders drop in relief, and you giggle, threading your fingers on his soft strands. Charles mutters something you can’t understand because you’re too focused on how his face seems different from this angle, after all the confessed words. He’s still your Charles, but he’s also a new Charles, and this knowledge brings a new feeling to your heart and stomach.

When his lips find yours, soft and warm, a contrast with his cold hands on your jaw and waist, he presses your bodies closer and hums in pleasure. You smile, unable to contain your happiness. He kisses you like you’ve never been kissed before, and when the air has made itself scarce, you part the kiss, foreheads still touching.

“So, Charlie, are you okay? Are you okay, Charlie?”

Charles throws his head back and laughs.

He knows how insufferable you could get once a song gets stuck in your head.

“I was struck down. You’re such a smooth criminal, Chérie. Stealing hearts around so easily.”

It is your turn to laugh.

“That was cheesy, but I loved it,” you mumble before pressing a kiss to his jaw. “I love you.”

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, lovelies! I hope you liked the piece, I wanted to add a huge shout-out to Delia (@struggling-with-delia on Tumblr) for proof and beta-reading this <3. Let me know your thoughts on this piece *mwah*.

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#f1 fandom #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #millie writes #cl16 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc fanfic #formula one imagine #charles leclerc fluff #f1 fluff #charles leclerc one shot #f1 2023 #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x you

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apomaro-mellow · 2 months

Text

King and Prince 17

Part 16

When Steve undressed that evening, he hung up the new outfit from Eddie with care. Tired from the day, he collapsed onto the bed, stripped down to nothing which was how Robin found him that morning, causing her to awaken him with a shriek.

Steve found his bed covered in an assortment of folded clothes, both for the daytime and for slumbering. They were meant for daily activities, so none as fine as the green outfit Eddie had gotten him before. But somehow Steve knew it was all the king’s doing.

One evening, Steve and Robin were recataloging books, when she finally spoke up about this strange relationship they had been forming.

“You probably spent your nights with more excitement. A lass on one arm a drink in another”, she said only half derisively. She was up on a ladder while Steve passed books to her from a cart.

“Eh, not all it’s cracked up to be. Besides, I got a lass and a drink right here.”

Robin raised a brow before realizing he meant her and the pitcher of water over by one of the tables. “I’m not your lass and it looks like your standards for drinks have dropped. What is it with you anyway?”, she asked.

Steve paused, arm halfway stretched to handing her the next book. “What’s up with me?”

“You’re acting like you don’t even miss it? Weren’t you a prince? Like, adoring crowds, people falling over themselves for you, friends for miles. That kind of prince?”

Steve shook his head and handed her the book. “It’s not what you think.”

“Oh come on, don’t be modest. It looks stupid on you.”

His face pinched at that, not liking being called stupid in any capacity and also wondering what Robin meant by that. Before he could ask, she continued, apparently seeing the confusion on his face.

“You’re going to tell me you don’t miss any of that? That you’re fine staying here and being a glorified lackey?”

“I…” Steve had been trying not to think about that place anymore. He didn’t miss it. “I didn’t have a lot of close friends. Not like you’re thinking. No real adoring crowds either.”

“Oh bullshit”, Robin slid down from the ladder. She looked to the water pitcher again before nodding to Steve. “Come on.”

And Steve followed.

Followed until they got to a room he’d never been in. It took Steve a little too long to realize it was Robin’s bedroom. There was a stack of well loved books by the bed. A dartboard with small knives sitting on a table nearby. And a bottle of wine that Robin had already opened.

“Uhh…”, Steve was paused by the door, wondering if he was only just now picking up on something Robin had been putting down all this time.

Robin turned to face him and then realized how it all seemed. Her body jerked like the very idea sent a shock of lightning through her and she nearly dropped the bottle.

“Oh! Shit! Shoot! No! I wasn’t-! We’re drinking! Just as like-I’m mean we’re not friends, but like. I don’t know, it sounded like you wanted to talk and I like gossip and drama but I thought you wouldn’t talk about it sober so…” Robin set the bottle down on the floor and sat down, a mismatched pair of cups already there.

Steve let out a breath. “I would have been terribly flattered.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “You’re not my type. In any way, shape or form.” She sat down right on the floor and poured for both of them.

“You’re at least one of my types, maybe”, Steve said. Robin was beautiful. And funny, and smart, and she knew how to handle the kids but also never took herself too seriously. Just as soon as the idea was put in his head, it was snuffed out. He tried not to think on it too hard as he took that first sip. What he was thinking about was how long it had been since he’d been with anyone.

“So there’s no one you miss?”, Robin pressed.

“I had, like two friends”, Steve admitted. “They were…we knew each other since we were kids. And we just kind of stayed together. But then we got older and it just got so…” Steve was too sober for this conversation, so he took a sip.

Robin got the message and switched gears. “Alright, what about a sweetheart?”

There were quite a few who could qualify. But none who Steve had thought of while he was locked up. No one in particular he wanted to rush back to. So he just shook his head. Then he took another sip.

“Don’t tell me you’re celibate because I won’t believe it.”

“Why not? I could be celibate if I wanted to, I haven’t had sex a single time since I got here. I haven’t even…”, Steve paused before making a motion with his hand like he was stroking himself. Normally he wouldn’t do such a gesture in front of a lady. But Robin wasn’t just a lady. Plus, she had already seen him naked.

Robin snorted. “You’re acting like that’s a long time. And are you being honest? You haven’t? Even once?”

“I haven’t been in the mood”, Steve shrugged. “And what about you? I haven’t seen you exactly rushing off to cavort.”

“Steve, you only see me a couple hours a day, don’t assume what I’m doing.”

“So are you…?”

Robin huffed, then took a gulp. “No. Not currently, anyway.”

“So we’re both living like monks.” Steve raised his cup.

“My mother would be so proud”, Robin drawled as she raised her own to meet Steve’s.

The way she said it, Steve instantly knew. Of course, he couldn’t know the extent of it, but it sounded like Robin’s mother rarely was proud. He wondered where Robin’s mother was. Wondered where some of the other families were too. Dustin’s mother worked in the castle, but that was about as much as he knew about any of their families. And what of the royal family?

“Hey, is it just Eddie?”

“Is what just Eddie?”

“The royal family. He doesn’t have any relatives? Any heirs?” Steve wondered if that was why he kept wards. To bring up one to take the crown. It was odd of someone his supposed age to have no one. And his own family’s recordings never spoke of any lineage stemming from or to King Edward.

“He is very much solitary, as far as I know”, Robin said. She took another sip but watched the prince from her rim.

All Steve did was hum in response. “So tell me about this mother of yours. She sounds just as lovely as mine.”

-----------------------

Eddie didn’t like being caught off guard. He always tried to cover himself and make sure he protected those under his wing. So even though the Harringtons had said they were done with Steve, Eddie couldn’t fully believe it until he saw it with his own eyes. Because spring was here and they were too conspicuous, the demobeasts he would allow to remain in hibernation for now.

So he sent birds instead. He sent them to watch over the king and queen and see how they were really taking the absence of their son. He saw Juliana give a few tears one evening, while staring at a painting of what must have been a young Steve. But that was it. There was no official announcement to their people, but it was plain to see that Steve was no longer considered royalty by the court.

With a groan, Eddie cut off the connection between him and the raven, miles away. He rubbed his own actual eyes and then left his study to go and sit with the eager smiles that mirrored his own. It was story time and tonight, Eddie was thinking of throwing a few obstacles in the way, something really to get the kids excited like a tough riddle or even a labyrinth.

He came to one of the more comfortable sitting rooms, drinks and snacks already on the table, each child in their designated spot. But there was a new body floating in the room, standing off to the side like he wasn’t sure which place to sit. Obviously, not in the grand looking chair that was most definitely designated for Eddie.

“What brings you ‘round these parts, my liege?”, Eddie asked.

Steve had an arm across him and shrugged. “I’ve heard so much about your stories, I wanted to hear them for myself.”

The thought made Eddie so giddy that he climbed up onto his chair, squatting on it like a gargoyle while he met Steve’s gaze with a grin. If the prince wanted a show, he would give him the performance of a lifetime.

“Well then”, he settled onto the cushion, legs crossed now. Come take the seat with the best view~”

Steve’s eyes widened, not expecting something so blatantly, well, flirtatious. But he quickly regained his composure. “I’ll be fine right here, thanks.” He took the floor on the other side of the table, able to see all of Eddie and the rest of the kids.

Eddie’s grin didn’t falter and if anything, it deepened. Suddenly, getting the little prince to sit in his lap seemed to be his greatest life’s mission. If only because of how funny it would be. Yeah… funny.

Part 18

Tag Team

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent @snakeorsquid @ignoremyworld @theclichefortunecookie

@goodolefashionedloverboi @just-a-tiny-void @0body0disphoria0 @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @samsoble

@jamieweasley13 @y4r3luv @xtkxkrzrizir @un-knownperson @greekgeek24

@justdrugsformethanks @potato-of-the-lord @notaqueenakhaleesi @swimmingbirdrunningrock @queenie-ofthe-void

@nebulainajar @lil-gremlin-things @nicememerino @robininblue @hornedqueenofhell

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @moomkin77 @here4thetrama @bookworm0690 @autumncrocusandladybug

@lil-gremlin-things @littlebluejane

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #platonic stobin #here's to HOPING yall are actually NOTIFIED

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10piecechickennuggy · 7 months

Text

Of pain and healing - Trafalgar Law x Fem!reader - Oneshot

WARNING: Mature content ahead.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own One Piece or the art featured above. This is a fan created work.

“Traffy.” Luffy’s expression was the most serious she’d ever seen. “Take good care of y/n.”

What?

After everything. After sailing together for six months. After being flung halfway across the world and reuniting at the war of the best. After having his own brother die in his arms, Luffy was leaving her with another captain for two years?

Their friends were scattered around the world, doing who knows what. They’d sent out the message to reconvene in two years at Sabaody, but she was here. She’d expected to stay with him. To train with him. To support him in any way she could. He was her captain. Her friend. Her nakama.

“Luffy!” Y/n gripped the railing and prepared to jump overboard, intending to swim to him. A pair of strong, tattooed arms wrapped around her midsection and effectively stopped her from doing so.

“She’ll be safe with me, Strayhat-ya!” Law called over the girl’s thrashing.

Her arm stretched outward, vainly grasping for her captain. “No! Luffy, I won’t leave you!” Water had begun to form in her eyes, blurring her vision. “You’re going to be king of the pirates! How can you do that without any crew?!”

Luffy laughed. He was bandaged and bloodied, intending to spend his time on a deserted island, and he was laughing? Was her panic that funny?

“When we meet again, I’ll be stronger than ever!” The boy exclaimed proudly, his shoulders broad. “I expect the same from you!”

For a moment, she stopped struggling. This couldn’t be real. She was having a nightmare. There was no way her captain would abandon her. Luffy wouldn’t do that.

“Bepo! We’re going now!” Law used her moment of denial to pick the girl up, moving toward the door.

When the sirens screeched and the submarine lurched, signaling its descent into the waves, her panic resumed tenfold. She screamed incoherently. She squirmed, kicked, and clawed at the railing and then the air. Obscenities were hurled at Law. But he did not relent.

Once they’d gotten inside and the door closed, she didn’t stop fighting. Fists were hurled at the thick steel door. Nails broke as she dug at the metal. Tears fell in hot, angry streams.

Law’s grip only tightened on her waist, his forehead digging into her back. When she fell to her knees, he followed. Her tears turned into choking sobs and wails. Her heartbreak echoed with an intensity matching the alarms blaring throughout the submarine.

Why? Why was Luffy doing this to her? She didn’t understand.

Eventually the sirens ceased, announcing the craft’s successful descent, and she began to quiet. Her body shook as she held herself. Her breath quickened to near hyperventilation - the finality of her sentence sinking in.

When Law lifted her in his arms, her body fell limp. Why wasn’t she waking up? She began to feel numb, shock taking hold of her senses. The strong arms cradling her to a warm, broad chest went unnoticed. Her mind raced, the unknown of her circumstance paralyzing.

Before she could register the change, she was being sat down onto a cold examination table, the abrupt temperature startling her back to the present. Focusing her eyes, she found Law’s form turned away and shutting a door. The lock clicked in a satisfying tone.

The room was cold, sterile, reminiscent of a doctor’s office. The only hint that she wasn’t inside a hospital was the desk overflowing with papers and books set to one side. It looked like someone’s personal library had exploded over roughly half of the room.

Her senses still lagging, she jumped when Law’s hands slapped the table on either side of her. His arms were rigid, trapping her in place on the metal slab. His legs rested between hers as he leaned forward, his forehead coming into contact with her shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was soft. Far softer than she’d heard over these last weeks.

He withdrew just enough so that their eyes could meet. His golden orbs reflected the fluorescent lights, appearing like lanterns amidst his dark circles. “I know you’re suffering. But I promise to care for you the best I can.”

Her eyes widened. Where was this coming from? The Trafalgar Law she’d seen at Marineford, the man who saved her captain’s life, was cold and unfeeling. He was an apathetic, calculating, unapologetic murderer. A captain of the Worst Generation. But as he raised a hand to smooth out the mess she’d made of her hair, she found herself leaning into his touch.

***

He wouldn’t leave her alone - not for long at least. He’d made her sleep in his room, insisting that the crew’s quarters were unfit.

He rarely slept in his own room, instead passing out at his desk after studying medical documents for countless hours. On the rare nights he did make it to the Captain’s quarters, he chose to sleep on the small couch.

Those first several nights, she barely slept. Perched on Law’s plush bed and staring out the porthole became her constant position, only resting when her body gave way to exhaustion. Spotting the occasional fish became the highlight of her days.

When a week had passed this way, Law decided it’d been long enough.

At first, she’d fought him on it. She refused to leave the room, not wanting to spend time with any of the Heart Pirates. She didn’t want to grow close to them. She already had a crew - the Straw Hats were her nakama.

But she was no match for Law’s strength or his Ope Ope powers. If she wouldn’t get up, he’d carry her. If she fought against his hold, he’d create a room and teleport them both.

He forced her to eat her meals with his crew. At first, she wouldn’t talk to them. Their welcoming greetings were met with neglect and half-hearted pleasantries. But each trip to the mess hall became less eventful.

“Why are you doing this?” She asked him one day while he dragged her to breakfast. “Why put so much energy into making me eat?”

Law clicked his tongue, his tone akin to chastising a child. “Your captain entrusted you to my care. How do you think he would react if I returned you malnourished?”

Eventually, she began to open up. Slowly - excruciatingly at times - she came to know a few key members of the Heart Pirates.

There was Bepo - a depressed polar bear mink and the ship’s navigator. His fur was the softest thing she’d ever felt.

Ikkaku was the only other female onboard. Her tomboyish personality made her a great fit for the mostly male crew.

Penguin and Shachi were a pair of near inseparable idiots. Their constant antics and terrible jokes brought some much needed entertainment to Y/n’s dark mind.

But always in her thoughts was the wish to be back home - aboard the Thousand Sunny. With the Straw Hats Pirates, sailing towards the One Piece. She’d have given anything to be with her nakama.

***

When the night terrors started, Law knew his efforts weren’t enough.

He was headed to bed after a late night of pouring over medical texts. Entering the room quietly, he’d found her form slumbering peacefully beneath the sheets of his bed.

Law had smiled at her snoring, glad she was finally getting some restful sleep. Her state had begun concerning him - sleep deprivation was a quick killer. But it seemed his attempts to get her accustomed to life alongside his crew had been working.

Satisfied with himself, he went into the attached bathroom. Removing his shirt to reveal a muscled, tattooed chest, he took in his reflection. His eyes were sunken, the permanent dark bags appearing to have worsened.

Turning on the sink, he began to splash water on his face. Then the shrieking started.

He rushed into the bedroom to see Y/n distressed. She was screaming, thrashing in her sleep as if she were being held down. The wails were panicked, desperate for relief from whatever horrors plagued her unconscious mind.

Law rushed to the bedside, placing a firm hand on her shoulder to keep her in place. Inked letters spelling “Death” came into his vision, an unwelcome layer of irony adding to the chaos. He shook her head, willing his worries away before bringing his other hand to stroke her hair.

“Shh.” He spoke calmly, knowing that an abrupt awakening could spell danger for the girl. “You’re alright, Y/n-ya.”

When her eyes fluttered open, they were glossy with tears. She didn’t stop to ponder the distraught expression on Law’s face. She only reached forward, wrapping trembling arms around his torso and pulling him down to her level.

A fleeting moment of confusion caused the man to hesitate before he held her. She sobbed quietly into his chest as he rubbed soothing circles on her back.

“Why are you being so kind to me?” She’d asked through sniffles one night after he’d calmed her.

Law sighed, his eyes closing under scrunched brows before he answered. “Because I know how it feels to have someone you love ripped away from you.”

***

For once, the submarine was docked on an island - one she’d refused numerous offers to explore. Birds flew over the horizon and waves could be heard lapping against the metal hull. Y/n hadn’t realized how much she missed the sounds of the surface.

Why had Luffy left her here? Was she that much of a hindrance to his training? She understood that he wanted to spend this time getting stronger. As they were now, none of the Strawhat Pirates were ready to face the New World. But could they not grow together?

Suddenly, shouting and gunfire broke her train of thought.

Springing to her feet, she tore through the metal hallways like a wild animal. She’d be damned if a Marine attack killed her new friends, leaving her stranded.

Wait. Friends?

Flinging the vessel’s main door open, Y/n jumped as a stray bullet barely missed her. The metal rang like a bell under impact, a small dent marring canary paint. She looked out to the island; soft sand was stained with blood. A Navy ship was docked not far away, her men engaged in battle with the Heart Pirates.

Both sides appeared to be struggling, though Y/n’s hosts were faring worse than the Marines. White and orange boiler suits blurred with the unmistakable blue and white of uniformed soldiers. At the heart of it all, Law could be seen slaughtering enemies one after another - His devil fruit and sword in perfect synchronization.

In contrast to their captain, the Heart Pirates’ lower ranking members were obviously floundering. They were outnumbered, even after the countless Marines that had already fallen. If the tides of battle didn’t turn soon -

Y/n jumped over the railing, sprinting forward the second her boots met wood. A body lay where the small dock’s planks turned to sand. She swiped the rifle laying nearby as she continued to run, choosing to ignore the stickiness which covered her hands.

Her first target was a man advancing on Bepo - a sword swinging dangerously close to the polar bear’s neck. Taking quick aim, she steadied her breath before firing. The bullet went straight through the man’s head, his body dropping instantly.

The navigator took notice of his savior, shouting a quick “thanks” before he moved to another target. This time, he chose to maul a marine who was advancing on Ikkaku. Blood sprayed as the soldier’s right arm was ripped off, a bloodcurdling scream erupting over the battlefield.

She took aim again, taking out two marines engaging Shachi and Penguin. One by one, enemy soldiers fell to expertly aimed shots. She was a weapons master, afterall.

The battle began to turn, the two sides evenly matched before the numbers tilted in the Heart Pirates’ favor.

“Everyone! Back on the ship!” Law’s order rang over the bloodied terrain as the surviving marines began their retreat.

Immediately heading their captain’s orders, the entire crew bolted for the Polar Tang. But a hand on Y/n’s shoulder prevented her from following.

“Room.”

Before she could register what was happening, she had been transported into Law’s room. Turning, she found the man standing behind her. Blood was splattered across his form, drying crimson clinging to his goatee.

“What are you - “

Her question was cut short, startled into silence by Law advancing on her. She quickly stepped away until her shoulder blades met the cool steel of the room’s door. Her eyes darted around the room, panic rising in the back of her thoughts.

What had she done wrong? Should she have stayed on the ship? Had she interfered with one of his plans?

She yelped when his fist landed beside her ear.

“Strayhat-ya isn’t getting you back.”

Law’s expression was one of pure anger. Fury morphed his usually stoic features, an inferno burning behind his gilded irises. Had she not been taken aback by his words, she would have been terrified.

“But Luffy said in two years - “

“To hell with Strawhat!” His fist banged again, this time leaving a dent in the steel door. His neglect to add the customary -ya didn’t go unnoticed. “He had you right there at Rusukaina, but instead sent you away with another man!?”

She shrank under his gaze. Law was usually so unexpressive. Even the tender moments they’d shared were not only rare but punctuated with only concern or melancholy. Never had she seen him display such intense emotion.

“He said he wants me to get stronger.” Why was she defending her captain? He’d abandoned her - tossed her aside to focus on himself. Didn’t he know how much she was hurting?

“You’re already plenty strong.” Law sneered, voicing her thoughts before they’d fully formed. “You just saved my entire crews’ asses. If he couldn’t appreciate what he already had, ” Law paused, removing his fist from the door and moving it to hold her waist. “Then I will.”

His lips crashed into hers with a passion she’d not experienced before. They were soft, moving fervently against her own as she reciprocated his movements. He smelled of musk and pine - the scent reminiscent of Christmas as it invaded her senses.

Each caress of their lips sent bolts of electricity down her spine. When his tongue probed for access, she granted it with a happy humm. Their wet muscles mingled in a dance of unspoken desire. All the sleepless nights he’d sit up with her, all the times he’d leave his work to check on her, all the effort he’d put into ensuring her health and wellbeing, all the energy and care he’d continue to exert for her - it all came to a head as one passionate kiss bled into the next.

Strong arms brought her against a firm chest, holding her tightly. When her fingers laced into his raven locks and tugged ever so gently, he growled into her mouth. In a single swift motion, he lifted her off the ground.

Her legs were still wrapped around his torso when she fell into the plush mattress. Their bodies were pressed impossibly close, the lines where her being stopped and his began had blurred. It wasn’t long before the two had become a heaving, sweaty mess of passionate flesh and sin.

***

Two years had passed quicker than either of them had expected.

“Y/n!” Luffy shouted in excitement as he ran towards her, his rubber arms stretching out to wrap around the girl.

She giggled, returning his embrace.

“Why weren’t you on Sabaody? We waited for you until the Marines attacked.” His confusion was sincere as he released her and tilted his head. But before she could respond, he continued with a wide grin. “Doesn’t matter now! Come on, we’ve got some kids to save before we leave this island!”

When he’d turned to run off, Law spoke up. His arms were crossed over his jacket-clad chest. “Wait, Strawhat-ya. Y/n has something to say.”

Luffy turned to face her, his expression now serious.

She shook her head before moving towards Law. “I won’t be going back with you. I’m a Heart Pirate now.”

Law smirked, wrapping an arm around her shoulders before he leaned down. After placing a kiss to her forehead, he glared at Luffy. “And my girlfriend.”

#one piece #x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar law #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #luffy x reader #luffy x y/n #trafalgar law x you #trauma #abandonment #healing #romance #oneshot #one piece oneshots

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bluewasthecolor · 1 year

Text

This Is What It Feels Like

Word Count: 5330

Warnings: Smidges of angst.

A/N: The anons who requested that I work on this get a special shoutout because Gracie is superior. Also this song was written about a friendship but I am writing about a relationship because art is up for interpretation (and I like writing about relationships)! I'm really proud of how this turned out, so I hope you like it! Let me know what else you'd like to see from me. I've been pretty much exclusively working on this one for the past few days, but I'm planning to work on some requests/ficlets now so expect to see more uploads from me in the next few days.

The city's gettin' loud

If I choke, it's only 'cause I'm scared to be alone

“You coming out with us tonight?” You look up from your phone to see Leah standing over you.

“Pardon?”

“We’re going out to have some team bonding time–just going to dinner, having a couple drinks, nothing major. You should come.” “Oh, um, I think I have plans tonight, but thanks for the invite.” You smile awkwardly and walk out of the changing room, leaving Leah standing alone.

On the drive home, as you cook yourself dinner in your flat, and as you eat alone, you can’t stop thinking about your interaction with Leah. You’re not sure why you said no to her invitation. You really don’t have anything to do–how could you? You’ve only been in London for a month and all of your time has been spent with the team so they’re your only real opportunity for social interaction. You pray that Leah doesn’t think about this, doesn’t realize you were lying. It’s not that you don’t want to get to know them, you truly do, it’s just that all of this feels a bit much right now. You’ve always been pretty shy and that makes it hard to get close to anyone. It took you almost a year after being drafted to OL Reign before you finally settled in, so it’s not much of a surprise that you’re still having difficulty making connections. This was supposed to be different though. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. Moving to London was supposed to help you, was supposed to be an escape from all the noise. Instead, here you are panicking just as you have so many times before. You feel as though you’re back in Seattle, back in that godforsaken apartment, trying not to drown. It’s not all that different you suppose, then and now. You were alone then and you’re alone now. Except now you’re in London halfway across the world from everyone you love. You feel naive that you thought this would help you, that you thought transferring to Arsenal was the right choice. Instead of being able to call somebody to come over when it all gets to be too much, you’re left struggling through on your own. This must have been a mistake.

After dinner you’re sitting in your living room when your musings are interrupted by the ring of the doorbell. Confused about who could be at your place–about who even knows where you live–you look through the peephole to see Leah standing on the other side. Your breath catches in your throat. What is she doing here? You press your back into the door, reminding yourself to breathe. She’s one of your teammates, not some random stranger. It’s going to be okay. With that, you swing open the door. Leah looks up as you do so, smiling when she sees you.

“Hey Y/N. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” “No, no not at all. I thought you were going out with the girls tonight?” “Well, I was, but then I talked to you.” A smirk is playing at her lips and you’re not quite sure what to make of it. “You said you had ‘plans’ but then I realized the likelihood of you knowing anyone in London besides the team is very very slim. So, I thought I’d come over.” She holds up her hand and the bottle occupying it. “I brought wine. Can I come in?”

Taken aback by her assertiveness, you step aside allowing her to enter. You’re still confused about what’s going on, but you follow her into your kitchen anyway, determined not to make things awkward. She grabs two wine glasses off the shelf, pouring each glass half full and handing one to you. You take it, grateful to have something to do with your hands.

“Would you like to sit?” You tilt your head towards the couch, and Leah nods. You move to sit next to one another and she looks at you. Like, really looks at you. The prolonged eye contact makes you shift uncomfortably, looking away after a few seconds.

“So. Y/N.” Leah’s voice is soft, comforting. “Truth be told I didn’t just come here to drink wine.”

You look back up, a question in your eyes.

“I wanted to check in on you. You never come out with us, barely interact with the team besides to talk about football. Did we do something? Are you just not interested in getting to know us?”

“Ah, so this isn’t just a friendly visit. You’ve been sent here on a spy mission. Get me to confess all my secrets, report back, right?” You’re half teasing, but apparently you’ve struck a nerve.

“No!” Leah is quick to deny, but even quicker to backtrack. “Okay so maybe Caitlin mentioned that I should come over and see if I could get you to crack, but it’s just because we want to know you. And I was already thinking of asking you to do something one on one.” The last part of her confession takes you off guard, but you compose yourself quickly.

“Alright. You get three questions. Go.” You’re not used to people being this honest with you, so you decide to give her something in return.

“Why don’t you ever spend time with us outside of training?” Her first question is as expected, and you begin to give your routine answer.

“I’m just really shy. I never really get to know people right away.” Her eyes narrow at your response, and you can tell she doesn’t fully buy your answer.

“Be more specific.” “This is gonna count as one of your questions, you know.”

“Be. More. Specific.”

“It’s been like this since I was little, I think. My mom tells me my teachers would always send home notes saying that I was smart but needed to talk more in class. As I grew up it just kind of stayed the same way. I think I’m scared that if I let people in, if I get to know them, I’ll just end up getting hurt. If I never make an effort I never have to be let down or worry that someone doesn’t want to be around me.” You stare at your hands as you say this, embarrassed to look up at her. Leah is silent for a moment and you think you’ve scared her off, shared too much, but then her hands are on top of yours.

“You don’t have to be scared with us. I know that’s a hard thing to believe, but you’ll never know unless you just trust us, unless you try. Give us a chance. Or, y’know, at least give me a chance, I’m not total rubbish.” She adds a cheeky wink with that last detail that makes you question whether or not she’s flirting with you.

“I…I can give you a chance. I’m not so sure about everyone else. I’m not so good in a group setting.” Leah nods to herself. “And by the way you have one more question left.”

“Alright, how about this: will you go on a date with me?”

“I–uh–what?” You sputter out, not expecting the blonde to be quite so forward.

“Go out with me. We’ll get to know one another, you can see that I genuinely want to know you, and then maybe you can work towards getting to know the rest of the girls.”

“Why can’t we just get to know each other as friends?” You ask, wary of her motives. “Because you’re insanely gorgeous and I’m pretty sure if we started hanging out as friends it would quickly turn into something more. Why not just skip to the fun part?” She has a point, you admit to yourself. You’re definitely guilty of sneaking glances when you think she’s not looking, admiring her beauty from afar.

“Okay, sure.” You can’t help but smile as you agree. “Let’s go on a date.” Leah squeals, actually squeals, and launches herself at you for a hug.

“How’s this Thursday? Pick you up at six?”

Two Weeks Later

I would do whatever you wanted

We don't have to leave the apartment

You’ve been going out with Leah for two weeks and it’s good. Waking up in the morning and realizing you have an hour before your alarm goes off, finding the perfect pair of jeans, heart stoppingly good. It’s easy with Leah, unlike many of your past relationships. You don’t feel like you’re constantly second guessing yourself or like you need to be on when you’re with her, you can just be. She doesn’t play games with you, she’s straightforward and doesn’t beat around the bush. It also doesn’t hurt that she’s good in bed. On the rare occasions that she lets you take control, on her back completely at your mercy, you feel powerful and in control. When she’s on top of you, coaxing orgasm after mind-blowing orgasm from your body, you lose yourself in the way she makes you feel. The way she takes you apart oh so slowly and–

“...Y/N?” Leah’s voice snaps you out of your daydreaming as she taps on your forehead. “Hello, is anyone home?”

The two of you are lying in her bed, spending one of your rare days off with one another. The defender has her back pressed against the headboard and you are settled between her thighs, head resting on her chest. “Sorry, sorry. What’s up?”

“I was asking what you wanted to do for dinner tonight.” “Oh, I don’t care. You pick.”

“Well…” Leah pauses, looking down at you with careful concern in her eyes. “Beth and Viv are having a thing tonight. They invited us. We could go to that.”

“I’m not so sure Leah. I don’t think I’m ready.” You look up at her guiltily, feeling bad that you’re preventing her from seeing her friends. “You should go though. I can just head back to my place for the night.”

“What? No. I want to hang out with you, I just thought it might be time to get to know the girls. It’s okay if you’re not ready though.”

“You don’t want to go?” “I didn’t say that. I said I want to spend time with you.”

“I still think you should go.” This conversation was slowly starting to feel more and more like a fight.

“What’s this about, Y/N? Do you not want to spend time with me?” Leah’s voice is cold now.

“Don’t turn this on me, I-you know what? I think I should just go home. I’ll see you at training tomorrow.” You push yourself off the bed, stalking to gather your things.

“What the hell, Y/N? Is this how you deal with things? You can’t just up and leave when shit gets hard. Come sit down and talk to me.” You look up to see that Leah has followed you out of the bedroom and is sitting on the couch. You shuffle over, perching on the edge of the sofa.

“Well?” Your voice is short. “I don’t really have much else to say, so it’s your turn to talk.”

“I guess I’m just a bit confused. Why are you so insistent that I do this? Are you just trying to get rid of me?” Leah’s voice is still cold but a bit of insecurity creeps through as well, her voice breaking just a little.

“No! I just…” Tears begin to well in your eyes before you can get the full sentence out. Taking a deep breath, you try again. “I don’t want you to resent me. Or feel like I’m keeping you from your friends.” “Oh, Y/N.” Leah murmurs, her voice soft now. “I could never resent you, baby.” “I just…we never do anything with anyone else. It’s not much of a relationship. I don’t want you to get bored of me” You stare intensely at your lap, not fully buying her response.

“Hey. Look at me.” The blonde tilts your chin up with her finger, forcing eye contact. “I am happy to do absolutely anything with you. It doesn’t have to be with other people. Hell, we could never leave this flat again and I wouldn’t complain. I never ever want you to question this. We’ve just gotta communicate, yeah?” She pulls you into her side as she says this, rubbing her hand up and down your arm.

“Yeah. Yeah you’re right.” You let yourself lean into the Brit. “And I want you to know that I do want to get to know the girls, I just don’t think I’m ready yet.”

“Just let me know when you are, darling, and I’ll set it up.” With that, Leah presses a kiss into the crown of your head. “Where’d we land on dinner by the way?”

“Well you’re certainly not cooking so would you rather have me cook or should we order takeout?” Your cheeky response results in Leah pushing you so that you are now on your back and she is hovering above you, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

She looks as though she’s about to kiss you, she even leans in as though that is what’s going to happen, but then her hands are on your sides and she’s tickling you. You squeal, trying to squirm away from her but she has you pinned to the couch. You eventually manage to roll off the couch and dash off, using your knee to push Leah off of you. She follows close behind, wrapping her arms around your waist and lifting you off your feet. As you laugh breathlessly she carries you towards her bedroom, tossing you onto the bed a dark look coming over her eyes.

Afterwards, the two of you lay intertwined, recuperating from taking one another to pieces. You reach up to stroke her hair, content in the small moment you were sharing. It was in that moment that you knew.

“I’m ready to get to know everyone now.” You murmur softly, looking up at Leah to see her reaction. She’s hesitant at first, not wanting to push you.

“Really? You’re sure?” You nod, smiling up at her. “Is this because of the sex? Like, y’know, I’m just so good that you’re super confident now?”

“No you asshole!” You sit up, smacking Leah lightly on the chest. “I just…I don’t know. You make me feel so safe and you obviously trust the girls, so I have no reason to be scared I don’t think.”

Leah presses a kiss to your cheek, pulling you closer.

“I’ll set it up.”

That Weekend

We stayed a couple hours

Our clothes matched enough to throw me off a bit

“You’re kidding.” Leah snorts as you open the door to your apartment. You stare back, unsure of what to say. The two of you have accidentally dressed in what are basically matching outfits: white tank top, black pants, white sneakers.

“Goddamnit,” You groan, turning to head back into your place. “I’m gonna go change. They’ll think I’m weird if we show up in matching outfits.”

“We’re late enough as it is, it’ll be fine.” She says, a hand reaching out to wrap around your wrist. “Let’s go, Y/L/N!”

As Leah parks the car in Viv and Beth’s driveway, you try to focus on your breathing. It’s just a dinner. A dinner with your teammates who, Leah has assured you endlessly, are excited to get to know you. Still, you can’t help but worry. What if you mess something up? What if they don’t like you and it changes how Leah sees you? What if, what if, what if. The possibilities are never ending. Leah, having finished parking, can clearly see that you’re overthinking things.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, baby?” She reaches over the center console to rest her hand comfortingly on top of yours.

“I dunno, just nervous I guess.”

“There’s nothing to be nervous about, they’re gonna love you, I promise. Just be yourself.” She lifts your hand to her lips, pressing a kiss on each finger. She then gets out of the car, walking around to open your door.

“Shall we?” She asks, extending her arm.

You grab it, stepping out of the car slowly. You let her lead you to the door and she squeezes your hand twice as she knocks. Leaning over to you, she whispers:

“If it gets to be too much, tell me. We can go whenever you want.” Grateful for her concern, you squeeze back.

At that moment, the door swings open.

“Leah! Y/N! Come on in!” Beth is smiling brightly at the two of you as she steps aside to let you enter. “Everyone’s just chilling in the kitchen, follow me.”

The blonde leads the two of you further into the house, stopping in the kitchen. Viv is behind the counter cooking with Caitlin as her sous chef, while Lia, Katie, and Ruesha are perched at the counter observing. They’re all laughing at something Ruesha said, and look up when you walk in. Caitlin is the first to speak, greeting you warmly.

“Hey guys, good to see you!” The rest of the girls follow suit, echoing greetings at you. Beth passes you each a glass of wine and gestures to you to take a seat at the counter.

“Um…did you guys mean to dress alike?” Katie asks, hiding a smirk. You blush, and look at Leah.

“Maybe we did, maybe we didn’t. What’s it to you, McCabe?” She bites back, a grin on her face.

You perch next to Leah, your hand finding hers under the counter. As you chat more with each girl you can feel yourself relaxing bit by bit. They’re all incredibly kind and clearly do want to know you.

“Viv, whatever you’re cooking smells fantastic.” You compliment the Dutch woman, who smiles as you say this. “Can I help at all? I’m not too bad in the kitchen.”

“That would be great actually! Cait’s a great help but many hands make light work. Do you think you could make a salad?” Viv directs you, gesturing to the empty salad bowl. “Everything you need should either be in the fridge or on the spice rack and if you’d like an apron they’re in the first drawer to the right of the dishwasher.”

You stand from your spot behind the counter and tie an apron around your waist.

“Oh my God, Y/N you have to make that one kale caesar salad with the dressing. It’s the best salad you’ll ever have, I swear.” Leah directs the last part to the rest of the room, all of whom look intrigued.

“Okay then! One kale caesar salad coming up!”

You set to work, gathering your ingredients for both the salad and the dressing. Viv and Caitlin work next to you, the three of you in perfect sync as you move around the kitchen.

“Leah! Come sit in the living room with us,” Katie’s voice drifts into the kitchen, and you look up to see that she, Ruesha, Beth, and Lia have all moved into the next room. Only Leah remains at the counter, watching your every move. Now, she looks at you with a clear question in her eyes.

“Go, I’m good.” You smile reassuringly, waving your wine glass towards the next room. She returns the smile and turns to go.

“So. Y/N.” As soon as Leah’s left the room, you hear Caitlin’s voice behind you. “Now that Leah’s out of the way, Viv and I want to get to know you some more.”

You spin to see the two women smiling mischievously at you, clueing you into the fact that this was somehow planned.

“Alright, what do you want to know?” You respond, surprising even yourself with your willingness to be open. Something about Viv and Caitlin just makes you feel at ease.

“What was it like to play in Seattle?” Viv jumps at the chance to ask a question just as Caitlin is opening her mouth.

“I mean, it was amazing, I won’t lie to you. I grew up in Seattle so it was unbelievable to get to play for my home club, and the culture of the team is insane. They’re absolutely still my family.”

“So why’d you leave?” It’s Caitlin this time asking the question. “Sorry if that sounds rude I just mean if it was so perfect something must have happened, right?” “Yes and no. I think part of it was that I felt like I wasn’t progressing much as a player and I knew my contract was up at the end of the season so it seemed like the right time for a change. I think if I had been in a different headspace I might have tried to stay at OL Reign, but I was struggling a lot so it just wasn’t the right time for me to be there. I’d love to go back someday though.” You answer her question with complete honesty, already feeling as though you can trust the two women standing before you.

Apparently satisfied with your answers, the two women go back to working in silence. You smile to yourself as you mix the salad dressing. It appears as though you’ve made your first friends at Arsenal. It feels good to have someone other than Leah in your corner. While she’s amazing, there’s something to be said about the strength of friendship. Just as you’re thinking of her, the blonde sneaks up behind you and wraps her arms around your waist, burying her head into your neck. You chuckle, leaning back slightly so that your weight is resting on her body.

“Hey pretty girl.” She murmurs, the words vibrating against your neck. You shift your head slightly away from her, a suggestion that she should take advantage of the extra space. Thankfully, Leah takes the hint. She presses subtle kisses against your neck, and you can feel that she’s smiling as she does so. The moment is cut short all too soon, however, by Caitlin clapping her hands.

“Dinner’s ready I think!” The Aussie announces. “Y/N, Leah, stop your PDA and come eat.” Blushing, you separate from Leah and carry the salad bowl into the dining room. The brit is close on your heels, snagging the seat next to yours and placing her hand on your thigh as soon as she sits down. You lean over, beckoning Leah closer.

“Someone’s feeling a bit clingy tonight, huh, darling?” You whisper, cupping your hands around her ear. “And I thought I would be the one stuck to you all night.”

Leah smirks at your comment, now leaning into your ear.

“I can’t help it, love. I can’t wait to get my hands on you later.” Her voice is low and rough, suddenly full of desire.

Her words elicit a small gasp from your lips, and you look at her purposefully. This is not the time nor the place for such a display but you’re also not too upset about it. You know she won’t push you farther than is comfortable and definitely won’t do anything that will embarrass you, so you’re content to let her tease you a bit. As the rest of your teammates sit down, you notice how easy this feels. You aren’t second guessing everything you say and you’re able to chat easily with each of the women sitting at the table. You sit with them for what is likely another two or three hours but feels like thirty minutes, talking and laughing with one another. Eventually, Leah is yawning next to you, sleepy from the amount of wine she’s had, so you decide it’s time to head home.

“Are you sure you’re alright to drive?” Viv asks with concern as everyone gathers by the front door getting ready to leave. “You’re more than welcome to stay the night.” “I only had one glass while I was cooking and that was ages ago. We’ll be alright, thanks so much Viv. Dinner was lovely” You smile warmly at the Dutch woman and pull her into a hug. You make the rounds to all the other girls, wishing them good night. When you reach Caitlin you grin as you hug her.

“Let’s do lunch soon, yeah?” You ask as you pull away.

“Absolutely. See you at training, mate.”

With that, you and Leah head to the car. As you’re pulling out of the driveway Leah looks at you, eyelids heavy with sleep.

“Thank you for coming tonight. It meant a lot to them. And me.” She murmurs, reaching to place her hand on your thigh once again. You put your hand on top of hers, tapping it lightly in reply. One night doesn’t automatically solve your problems but it’s a really good start.

Two Months Later

And I need you sometimes

We'll be alright

Met you at the right time

You’re pretty sure you’ve just ruined everything. Two months of pure bliss and you just destroyed it all with three stupid words. What had you been thinking? It’s too soon. You know that. You’re usually the one wanting to slow things down in relationships and yet you still did it. Something just came over you today. After Leah’s telling silence you had fled and now, here you are. Curled up in bed with a tub of ice cream, crying over everything you’ve just lost.

After about an hour of this, you hear a knock on your door. Not in the mood to talk to anyone, you decide to ignore it and hope whoever it is will go away. They do not, and the knocking continues for another five or so minutes. Just as it’s finished and you’re thinking that the knocker has finally left, your phone lights up with a text.

Cait: Leah called me. Viv and I are here.

You wait a moment hoping they’ll get the hint, but no such luck.

Cait: Please let us in.

Sighing, you push yourself out of bed. The two women, who have quickly become some of your closest friends, are clearly not planning on leaving anytime soon. You open the door and are met by two of the most concerned faces you’ve ever seen.

“Shit, Y/N. Come here.” Viv exclaims upon seeing you, your face stained with tears.

Viv reaches out, enveloping you in a warm hug. You feel Caitlin’s arms wrap around you from behind. After a few moments of this, you pull away and gesture inside. The women follow you inside to the living room, settling on the couch on either side of you. Caitlin grabs your hand, squeezing lightly.

“We’re here if you wanna talk about it, but it’s okay if you just want to sit here.” The aussie says gently, nudging you with her shoulder.

“I want to talk about it.” You say, still sniffling. “Leah and I broke up.”

Three Hours Earlier

It started with pancakes. You had spent the night at Leah’s and woke up early, wanting to surprise her with breakfast in bed. When you woke, however, Leah was no longer in bed. Confused, you padded into the kitchen to find her at the stove–a rare sight. She didn’t notice you when you entered the kitchen, so you snuck up behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist. She jumped slightly when you did so, a smile appearing on her lips.

“Whatcha doin’?” You asked, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Making you pancakes. But I can’t focus when you’re right there, you have to go sit at the counter.” She playfully nudged you away from her, and you obeyed, moving to sit at the counter.

Watching her move around the kitchen, focusing oh so carefully on her cooking, determined not to mess up, you were struck suddenly with a thought. A thought you couldn’t hold in much longer. Just as she set a plate of pancakes in front of you, some part of your brain decided that was the perfect time.

“Leah.” You said, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards you. You cupped her face, brushing her hair back. “I love you.”

She didn’t say anything. She stood there, looking down at you for what felt like hours, but didn’t say a single word. Dejected, you pulled away.

“I, um–I have to go.” You stammered, embarrassed that you had thought the two of you were ready for such a big step.

“Y/N, wait–” She called after you, but it was too late. You had left, were driving home with tears rolling down your face. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be.

Present

You look back and forth between Caitlin and Viv as you finish telling the story. They’re sharing some sort of knowing glance that you can’t read. Then, Viv places her hand on your arm.

“Y/N, that’s really hard and I know it feels like shit to not have her say it back but it doesn’t sound like you broke up.” Viv’s voice is soft, almost a whisper. You look at her, confused.

“What am I supposed to do now though? Pretend I never said it? I can’t do that.”

“Nobody’s asking you to do that, we just think you should talk to her about it.” It’s Caitlin speaking this time. “And, by the way, she didn’t say you’d broken up when she called me. She just said you were upset when you left but she wasn’t sure if you’d want to see her.”

“Okay,” You sigh. “I’ll text her later to see if we can talk.” “Or,” Viv says as there’s another knock on the door. “You can talk to her now. We texted her when we got here.” Your friends get up to leave, each kissing you on the forehead as you sit frozen on the couch. You hear murmurs in the hallway and then the sound of the door shutting. Suddenly, Leah is standing in the living room, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. She’s clearly been crying too, her eyes bloodshot and her hair mussed.

“Hi.” The blonde says tentatively, taking a step towards you. “Can I sit?”

You nod, gesturing to the spot next to you on the sofa. She sits gingerly, clearly wary of how close she should sit. You look at her, unsure of what to say. Thankfully, she speaks first.

“So I think I owe you an explanation.” She looks at you, searching your face. For what exactly you’re unsure, but you nod at her to continue. “My last relationship moved pretty fast. We said I love you pretty early on and then we kind of crashed and burned. I swore to myself I wouldn’t do that again so today when you said it I was caught off guard. I didn’t want to ruin such a good thing. But then you left and I was broken. Not knowing where you were or if you were okay…I couldn’t stand to lose you. That’s when I realized.”

“Realized what?” You look up at her to see that she’s been waiting for you to make eye contact.

“That I love you too.”

When she says this you lean farther into her, pressing your lips to hers. This kiss is different from all the ones you’ve shared before. It’s tentative, not because you don’t know each other but because you don’t want to move it too fast. You both want to savor it, not wanting to let go of this moment.

Later that night as you lie in bed together, a question pops into your mind. A question that might be risky, but that you can’t shake.

“Leah?” You murmur, twisting in her arms so you can look at her. “What would you say if I asked you to move in with me?” A wide smile appears on your lips and she kisses you once more.

“I’d say I was about to ask you the same damn thing, my love.”

#woso imagine #woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #arsenal x reader #arsenal wfc

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bruisedboys · 1 year

Note

KNIVES OUT - sender comes to receiver after being injured .

with rugby!james!!! please. maybe patching him after a game idk up to u bae <3

aerial aerial I love u sm for this u don’t understand. rugby james <3333

summary: james hurts his wrist and thinks you worry too much

fem!reader 0.7k words

James is just coming back from his X-ray when he spots you sitting in the waiting room, next to Remus. You look frazzled, your knee bouncing like it always does when you’re worried about something, your nails lodged between your teeth. He knows they’ll be bitten down to stubs by the end of the night.

He thanks the nurse who’s ushering him and then makes a beeline for you. Remus sees him first, nudges you and points. You look up just as he’s about to say your name.

“James,” you say, and stand up so fast James is worried you’ve gotten a headrush. You meet him halfway, looking like you want to touch him but you stop when you see his wrist in its sling.

“James,” you say again. Now that he’s gotten a better look at you he thinks you’ve been crying. Your eyes aren’t red but your eyelashes are all shiny and wet. “Baby. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” James says. “Really, it’s—“

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there,” you interrupt, your bottom lip going a bit wobbly. “I feel so bad, Jamie, I—“

“Angel.” James touches your face with his good hand, wraps his fingers around your jaw and presses his palm to your cheek to get you to stop talking. “It’s okay. Don’t be sorry, you couldn’t have known this was gonna happen tonight.”

You bite your lip. Your eyes are starting to water over. “I know, but. I should’ve been at your game.”

James tuts at you. “Y/N, darling.” He drags his thumb under your eye where a tear is collecting, then swaps over to the other side to wipe away those tears.

“Stop apologising. It’s okay.” He gives you a grin that he hopes will help you to stop looking so sad. It’s breaking his heart, the look on your face. “And you know, I’m glad you weren’t there. I think maybe you’d break up with me if you ever saw me eat shit that badly.”

You giggle wetly. It’s kind of adorable. James kisses your cheek and then you’re leading him to sit down in between you and Remus. Sirius is nowhere to be seen, probably at the vending machine somewhere.

“What’s the verdict?” Remus asks him, who James knows is not as worried about his wrist as you are, but pretty close. He’d almost broken the speed limit on the way here.

James looks at you. He doesn’t want to lie to you, but he also doesn’t want to worry you more than you already are. He tries to soften the blow.

“Uh. It’s— they think it’s just a fracture,” he says, mostly to you. He hopes by putting ‘just’ in front of it he’ll make it sound not as bad as it is. It doesn’t work.

“A fracture?” You say, whirling on him, worried all over again. “So, what, it’s broken?”

James looks at Remus for help. Remus gives him a look like don’t look at me.

“Kind of?” James says, wincing. The real answer is yes, it is broken. But he’s not about to say that to you. You make a face at his answer (or lack of) so he reassures quickly, “Really, honey. It’s just a small fracture, baby. It’ll heal in no time.”

You don’t look convinced. You sigh and grab James’ good hand, pushing your fingers in between his.

“James,” you sigh again.

All the sighing makes James sigh, too. He knew this would be how you’d react. Knew you’d probably cry over him, no matter how much he wishes you wouldn’t. If he’s being honest, he’d react the same, probably worse.

“I’m okay,” he reassures you again. He’s gonna say it a million times if he has to. And really, he is okay. He’d be much worse if he didn’t have a lovely, kind girlfriend worrying over him. He squeezes your hand and hopes you feel how grateful he is for you. “They’re gonna fix me up and then we’re gonna go home and cuddle. Okay?”

You look up at him. Looking half sad and half hopeful. “How am I ever gonna cuddle you properly with a cast in the way?”

James laughs, so loud the people sitting in front of him turn around, but he hardly cares. He lifts your hand to his lips and kiss kiss kisses along your wrist.

“We’ll figure it out, angel.”

#★ mal writes!#⭐️ 3k celebration!#ღ james #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter fluff #james potter x y/n #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x you #james potter x reader fluff #james potter blurbs #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter drabbles #✉️

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barbiiecams · 3 months

Text

my babies

drew starkey x reader, thinking about making this into a little au <3.

having a baby was definitely the best choice you’ve made all your life, and having it with drew put the icing on the cake.

your perfect angel, aaliyah, was now 6 months old. she was growing up wayy to fast for your liking, but seeing her grow more and more into the beautiful girl she is made your heart throb.

shes definitely a mini you. of course, she looks like her daddy from some aspects, but it’s still you, just copy and pasted. if anything, she has all of drew’s personality.

you’ll take cute photos of them sleeping together in the same position, them watching ms rachel with the same face, and them literally talking about only God knows what in their own little language.

it’s truly the cutest thing, and you could never express how grateful you are to have this little family.

currently as you were preparing her bottle, ms aaliyah started to get fussy with you.

“i know mama you’re hungry,” you coo “it’s almost done baby i promise.”

you shook the bottle as walked over to where she sat in her high chair, something that seemed to calm her fussiness when she was hungry.

her fussiness had basically stopped, and you let her grab her bottle. “see? there you go princess.”

just as she started to feed herself with her tiny hands, drew walks in the front door.

the sight of you and his daughter as soon as he walked in immediately made him smile, his heart warming the way it always does.

he walks over to the both of you, “i missed my babies!” he greets you with a sweet kiss and starts ambushing aaliyah’s chubby cheeks with kisses.

she laughs at her daddy, but is also annoyed at the same time cus she’s tryna eat!!

her cute hands try and push him away while she’s smiling and laughing. another perfect opportunity for you to snap a picture.

“aweee look at herrrr.” you say in a cute little voice that’ll amuse her.

soon he stops, and continues to let her eat. “she’s getting so big. how is she already able to hold her own bottle?”

“i know,” you pout “she’s halfway to one, where did all the months go?”

drew sits down next to you, and wraps an arm around you. “we can always make more though…”

you roll your eyes at his words, but smile anyway. when it’ comes to drew’s babies, that’s definitely not something you’ll decline.

he starts leaving kisses on your neck, “we can even start tonight.”

his lips get close to your ear, and as much as you enjoy it, you have to put a hand to his chest. “you not gonna get me started in front of my baby now.”

he chuckles at your words and lifts his head from your neck. “yea yea, but can we?”

“like seriously?”

“of course seriously,” at first you couldn’t tell if he was genuine or just trying to get you started, but his face said enough.

you thought about it for a moment. you did want more kids, but so soon?

“well i mean.. she’s not even one yet. that’s gonna be a lot dealing with two under two.” you reasoned.

you were right and he knew that, but it didn’t stop his wishes whatsoever.

“and that’s why we’re in this together,” he grabs your hand. “i could get some paid time off, stay with you guys for a while.

you were really thinking now. a big family is something you’ve always wanted, and maybe now was the time to really get it started.

you smiled at him, “okay.”

his face started to light up with excitement, “really?”

you nod as his confirmation, and he immediately starts to embrace you.

when you both pull away from the hug, he gives you a passionate kiss. every kiss with him felt like the first time, and every time you got lost in his lips.

getting a bit too into it, you both stop after hearing the baby noises coming from across from you.

drew looks at her and starts to smile real hard again. picking her up from her chair, he started to bounce her in his arms and kissing her cheeks once again.

he comes back over to you after showing aaliyah some more love, “thank you, seriously. ive always dreamed about being a dad and you’ve just always made my dreams come true.”

you mush at his statement when he says that, baby still in his arms. “and you’ve always made mine come true.”

he gives you another kiss, and you hear aaliyah happy laughing and clapping as both your lips touch. you giggle at her and tickle her little neck.

“is that funny baby?” you pretend to eat her little cheek.

drew laughs at the two of you then starts to play with aaliyah while she continues to giggle and smile. “someone’s gonna be a big sissy soon!”

yea, this was the dream life.

#drew starkey #barbiiecams #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey drabble #drew starkey fic #drew starkey fluff #outer banks

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sunkissedpages · 10 months

Text

instead of you [part fifty-eight] || th

pairing: [best friend’s brother] tom holland x college!reader

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, smut (18+ mdni)

word count: 3.1k

Sam barely bat an eye when you told him where you were going.

“Okay, be safe,” he said as he kicked off his shoes.

That’s it? That’s all he had to say to you? You wanted to ask him just that, but you were afraid of creating another rift between the two of you. Sam had said he wasn’t ready to talk about it so you shouldn’t push, right? But was it wrong to keep leaving like this?

Going back and forth with yourself was only wasting time and Tom was still waiting for you downstairs. Fuck it.

You grabbed a spare room key from the dresser, shoved it in the pocket of your dress, and left without another word before you could change your mind.

Tom was right where you left him, leaning against the wall by the elevator hub. He grinned when he saw you.

“Thought you’d never escape.”

You rolled your eyes at him as you let him lead you through the lobby by the hand. You were still wary of people seeing you together but the lobby was seemingly empty.

“Sam didn’t care. It was me who took forever.”

Tom paused, letting go of your hand as he gave you a concerned once over. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I don’t really want to talk about it. So, where are we going?”

He frowned, but only momentarily, quickly covering it up with a smile. “I- okay, um... remember how you said we don’t do ‘couple stuff’?”

“Yeah?”

“I thought maybe I could take you somewhere where we can do that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m taking you on a date, silly.”

“Really? Where?” When he didn’t answer, you groaned. “You and your stupid surprises.”

“It’s more fun this way and you know it,” he insisted, tugging you along by the hand.

“I like being prepared,” you argued.

He grinned. “So be prepared for a good time.”

The drive wasn’t far at all this time but you were confused when he pulled into a crowded lot. You were even more confused when he didn’t turn off the car or more to get out of it.

You turned to him in confusion. “Tom?”

“Y/n?” he parroted.

“Where are we?”

“We’re on our date.”

“Yes, but where?”

“Did you not see the sign when we turned in?” You shook your head. He grinned. “It’s a drive-in.”

“Really?”

“Why do you think no one’s getting out of their car?”

“I didn’t really notice, to be honest.”

“Too distracted by your hot date?”

You didn’t spare him a reaction. “How’d you find this place?”

“I did some research the other night,” he explained, “when you, you know, we talked about it. I figured this is about as close as we could get to a real date. At least right now.”

“That’s… really thoughtful.”

He shrugged. “Nah, it’s nothing, really.”

“Well I was going to kiss you, but if it’s nothing—”

“No, no. I want the kiss. Give me my kiss.”

You chuckled, relenting as you leaned in. He met you halfway over the center console and kissed you sweetly. It was short but eager, just enough to leave you wanting more.

You had to remind yourself not to get your hopes up. Sure, Tom was showing interest in you now, but what about when this was all over? Would he want to do long-distance? Did he want to date you at all? You had been telling yourself that it was just sex all this time but now you were on a date... but what did it mean? You could just ask but you were scared to ruin the moment, ruin whatever it was that was actually going on.

You’d been asking yourself the same questions for weeks now and the scary thing was, it seemed like Tom was serious about you. He had all but said it outright to you. And here he was taking you on a fucking date. It was you who kept pushing back. You told yourself it was because of Sam, but if you were being honest with yourself that was only half of it. You were afraid of getting hurt. You had never been in a real relationship before for that very reason. Well, that and you liked being single. It seemed favorable considering the dating pool of your university.

“So, what movie are we seeing?” you asked, exhaling deeply to try and physically release the stress you’d been holding.

Tom pursed his lips, making you narrow your eyes in suspicion. “Um, Spider-man: Far From Home.”

“You took me to see your own movie?”

“It’s what they were showing! I had nothing to do with it, like they’re in the middle of a marathon. Last week they showed Spider-man: Homecoming.”

“Seems awfully convenient,” you mused.

“Trust me, I know. I thought I was losing my mind when I looked at their website earlier. But I promise I had nothing to do with it. You really think I’m so tacky I’d take a date to my own film? I mean, if I was going to do that I’d at least start with the first one.”

You made a face. “What do you mean, the first one.”

“Oh, Far From Home is the second in the trilogy.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “We’re not even watching the first one? How am I going to know what’s going on?”

“I’ll tell you! That’s one of the nice things about drive-ins, no one cares if you’re talking through the whole movie. The second one is the best one anyway.”

“Will I be able to follow the plot at all? You know I’ve never even seen a Marvel movie, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I wouldn’t have taken you to a Marvel movie if there was something else playing, but there’s only the one lot. The plot isn’t that complicated, you’ll still be able to enjoy it.”

“If you say so.”

Tom smirked. “I do say so. I think you’ll like it, actually.”

“Oh, you do?”

“Yeah, I hear the lead actor is pretty good-looking.”

You hummed thoughtfully. “Oh yeah, Zendaya is in this, right?”

“Fuck you.”

“I’d rather fuck you,” you quipped. He raised an eyebrow suggestively, making you laugh.

“What are we doing here, then?”

“We’re on our date!”

“But we could leave.”

“I can’t believe you’re trying to get into my pants on the first date,” you scoffed.

“I don’t have to try,” Tom pointed out. “I was already successful before our date. Many times, actually.”

“I was there, you don’t have to remind me.”

“Are you sure?”

You rolled your eyes through a grin. “Positive.”

“Alright, well let me know if you change your mind.”

“You’ll be the first to know,” you assured him, leaning over the center console to nudge his shoulder.

You stayed there, shoulders resting against each other. He looked over and smiled at you before reaching for your hand and taking it in his. He lifted his other hand to check his watch.

“The movie starts in about ten. I know they have a concession stand but if you want snacks you’ll probably have to be the one to get them. I can give you the money, obviously, I just can’t…”

“Leave the car,” you finished for him.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“I’ll go see what they have,” you decided. Tom handed you his wallet but you didn’t take it. “It’s on me. You bought the movie tickets.”

“You know I’m in this movie, right? You don’t have to worry about splitting the cost of everything.”

“I know, just, let me do this.”

Tom held his hands up in surrender and pocketed his wallet. “Fine, fine. Can you get me a beer?”

“Sure. Any kind in particular?”

“Whatever they have is fine. I’m not picky.”

You nodded and stepped out of the car, smoothing your dress out in case it had ridden up. You stood on your tip toes and craned your neck to try and find the concession stand above all of the cars.

Luckily, there was a big neon sign that read CONCESSIONS with an arrow pointing to a kiosk that was presumably sitting underneath it.

You wove inefficiently through the parking lot over to the sign, sighing when you spotted the long line. It was moving pretty fast so you didn’t have to wait very long and by the time you made it to the front, you still hadn’t decided what to get.

The woman behind the counter looked bored and impatient so naturally, you panicked.

“Hi, um can I please get a medium popcorn and two Nerds Ropes?”

“Anything to drink?”

Your eyes flicked to the menu overhead but all of the options seemed to blend together in an unintelligible jumble. “Uh, a water bottle and a peach High Noon, please. And what kind of beer do you guys have?”

She listed off a handful. You chose the first one you recognized and hoped it was one Tom wouldn’t mind too much. You waited as she ID’ed you and rang you up, dropping a couple of bills in the tip jar when she handed you your change.

You had stupidly declined a tray so you had to very precariously carry everything back to the car in your arms. It was one of those establishments that took the caps off of bottled drinks and opened cans before you were allowed to leave the counter which meant you had to be extra careful with how you balanced things so that nothing would spill.

“You good?” Tom asked, watching you struggle with everything. “I’d help, but that would kind of defeat the purpose of not going to get the stuff in the first place.”

“I’m fine,” you insisted.

He didn’t look convinced but it wasn’t like he could do anything but watch so he didn’t comment further until you were seated again.

“What’d you end up getting?”

“Well, popcorn.”

“It’s not a movie without it.”

“Exactly,” you agreed and handed him the bucket. “And I got us a water to share and some Nerds Ropes, I hope you like those.”

“Love em.”

“And then I got myself a High Noon and I got you a Heineken. I’m sorry, I blanked when she told me all of the types of beer they served and chose the first one I knew.”

“It’s okay! I told you I’m not picky. Heinekins are fine, babe, thank you.”

“Are you sure?”

Tom chuckled and took a sip from the bottle as if to prove to you that he liked them. “Yeah! Why wouldn’t they be? Do you have something against Heinekins?”

You made a face. “Bad memories.”

“Mm, I see. In that case, I won’t offer you any.”

“Thank you. Did you want to try some of my drink?”

“Sure, what’d you say it was?”

You passed it to him. “A High Noon. Have you never had one?”

“No, I don’t usually go for seltzers.” You watched him take a sip, laughing when he made a similar face to the one you had made just a few moments prior. “Oh god, the bubbles hurt.”

“How big of a sip did you take?!”

“A regular-sized sip! The carbonation is just a lot!”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“You do realize that’s my job, right?”

You rolled your eyes. “You just enjoy your drink and I’ll enjoy mine.”

“Gladly.”

Just then, the parking lot’s overhead lights dimmed. The projector flickered to life, casting the station to which to tune your car’s radio. Tom fidgeted with the dial until it was tuned to the right frequency.

“Welcome to Aloha Drive-In’s adult-only feature film of the night! We have late-night showings for ages eighteen and up every weekday.”

“What makes it adults-only?” you asked aloud. “Is this the extended version of Spider-man where he fucks Gwen?”

“They serve alcohol,” Tom explained. “Something with the licensing prevents them from offering it during regular showings. Also, it’s MJ in this version.”

“Oh.”

“I can give you the extended version when we get back later, though.”

“What, are you going to eat me out while you hang upside down or something?”

He grinned. “If you want me to.”

“Please stay in your car for the duration of the film unless you need the restroom or concessions. In case of emergency...”

You listened to the rest of the spiel in silence, snacking lightly on what you’d bought until the Marvel logo showed up on the screen. You recognized some of the actors flashing behind the letters but could only make a few connections to what characters they played. You nudged Tom’s shoulder when the familiar red and blue suit popped up, feeling a strange sense of pride as you watched the Tom on-screen catch a shield.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him watching you, gauging your reactions. It was hard to follow along with the plot since you hadn’t seen the first Spider-man or the other twenty-something MCU movies that preceded it. Tom helped fill in the gaps when he noticed you looking confused.

You had to admit that it was a pretty funny movie, even though you didn’t have a lot of context as to what was going on. You also had to admit that Tom looked good. The Peter Parker thing was really doing it for you. You weren’t used to hearing his American accent and you were surprised at just how convincing it sounded.

The only other movie you had seen of Tom’s was the one you watched on the plane to Hong Kong, and you couldn’t even hear his actual voice in that one. You hadn’t ended up finishing it, either.

“Take off your clothes.”

Your eyes widened as the blonde woman on the screen commanded Peter to strip. Tom laughed at your expression.

“I thought you said this wasn’t the porn version,” you mumbled.

He chuckled. “Jealous, baby?”

You nodded. “She’s so pretty. Did you get to kiss her?”

Tom’s face fell.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Then what’s going on?”

“Just watch!”

“Fine.”

You did, watching with curiosity as Peter unbuckled his belt and shoved his pants down. You couldn’t help but focus on Tom’s bare thighs, squeezing your own together as you stared at them. Tom’s gaze fell to your lap when caught the movement of your legs.

“Are you cold?”

“Um, a little,” you lied.

You were in fact, not cold at all. You were actually feeling a little warm.

“Here,” Tom said, reaching behind him to grab something. It was a blanket, and he draped it over your legs. “Don’t worry, it’s not the same one from the beach.”

You nodded in appreciation, grateful that he had clarified that it was a clean blanket and not the one that had been laid down in the sand and had sex on top of from the night before.

Tom kept a hand on your thigh even after he’d situated the blanket on your lap.

“Warming you up,” he explained before you could ask.

You were a little suspicious of his true intentions but he wasn’t moving his hand and he had gone back to watching the movie so you let it go.

The snacks you bought lasted you throughout the majority of the film. Once you’d finished them, you put the candy wrappers in the empty popcorn bowl and placed it on the floor of the car so that you could lean across the center console and rest your head on Tom’s shoulder. He met you halfway to make it less uncomfortable for you. It was a little awkward, trying to position yourselves in a way that felt natural.

Your suspicions about Tom’s hand were of course proved correct when you felt it begin to inch upward. Your thighs parted automatically for him before you could process what was happening. It was pathetic how responsive your body was to him.

“I’ve been trying so hard not to stare at you all night,” he confessed. “Look so fucking pretty in this dress.”

“You should try harder,” you teased, reminding him of when you had to kick him under the table at dinner with his family.

“You’d be doing the same thing if you were in my shoes,” he insisted.

“No, because I have self-control.”

“Oh, really?” he asked, fingers ghosting over your panties.

You sucked in a breath, physically holding yourself back from arching into his touch.

“This isn’t affecting you at all?”

You shook your head. “Nope.”

“What about this?”

You knew he could feel how wet you were getting. It was pointless to lie. But even as he pulled your underwear to the side and teased you by putting the tip of his middle finger inside of you, you wouldn’t admit it.

“This is doing nothing for you?” Tom prodded, curling his finger in a little deeper.

You gasped and gripped the car door handle, nervously checking your surroundings to ensure you weren’t being watched. Tom had parked in the back of the lot so there was no one behind you. Everyone else seemed zoned in on the movie playing like they were supposed to be.

“I asked you a question,” he reminded you.

“Feeling nothing,” you lied.

Tom tongued his cheek in annoyance even though it was clear you were just fucking with him.

“You’re such a brat.”

“You already knew that.”

He sighed. “That’s true.”

You were both quiet for a couple of beats, letting Peter and Mj’s dialogue fill the silence. Tom’s finger was still halfway inside of you under the blanket and your dress and you had to try very hard not to think about it.

You hadn’t been paying attention to the film for the past several minutes so deducing what was happening presently was impossible. But then onscreen Tom took his shirt off and the plot seemed suddenly irrelevant.

Beside you, Tom laughed.

“What?” you mumbled absentmindedly, not looking away from the version of him that had his tits out.

“You clenched around my finger when I took my shirt off.”

“What, I did not!”

“Love, I could feel it. I can still feel it, actually.”

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment and you sunk down in your seat, which coincidentally pushed Tom’s finger deeper inside of you, making you whimper.

“It’s not my fault!” you cried before he could say anything. “Obviously I’m going to be turned on by seeing you half-naked!”

“You don’t need to explain yourself,” he assured you, voice full of amusement. “I’m glad I can make you feel that way. Quite flattered, actually.”

“You’re such a dick.”

He leaned over to whisper in your ear even though you were sitting right next to each other and no one else could hear your conversation. “And I’ve heard I’ve got a pretty nice one too. What do you say we get out of here?”

iou tags: @youcouldstartacult @helen-on-earth @lnmp89 @lovelyxtommy

add yourself to my new taglist here!

#instead of you #iou #tom holland x reader #tom holland x female reader #tom holland x bi!reader #tom holland smut

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hannahssimblr · 2 months

Text

Epilogue (Final Part)

It’s hours later and we’re still talking. The DJ arrives around ten and cracks the speakers up to ear-ringing heights so we exit to the lobby and stand by the window as the snow falls and the lights from the ten foot Christmas tree twinkle on the glass.

“No, no, stop, I can’t take it anymore,” He shrieks in agony as he grabs my arm, “He said that when he was inside you?”

“Yes! I didn’t know what to say back, like, um, thanks pal?”

“‘You’re so Alpha’” He repeats, deadpan, but his shoulders betray him when they start wobbling again, “‘and I’m just a little-”

“Beta boy, yes. Oh Evie, you intimidate me so much, I’ve always wanted to fuck a girl who scared me.”

“I’m going to die because of this story,” He cries, “I refuse to believe that men like this exist, it’s just too much.”

“There was this other lad too,” I begin, “Not as bad, but he got a nosebleed halfway through and it was dripping all over my face for like fifteen minutes before either of us noticed.”

“No!”

“Yeah, God, I feel bad, I think he was on some blood thinning medication or something but like…” We fall about laughing again, laughing and laughing until I think I’ll start gagging. I remember thinking during that experience that there was only one other person in the world who would find it as hilarious as I did, and as we splutter and cackle now at my retelling I remember how it used to be like this all of the time with us. I think about the time we lost through staying out of touch as he wipes his eyes and stumbles to the side a little bit, from laughing or from drinking a little too much, I’m not sure.

“Women are not like that,” he says, “I’m sorry for you, but they’re not, even the crazy LA ones don’t put me in situations like that.” He steadies himself a little by bracing his arm on the wall, so close that I could count his eyelashes if I wanted to. “I just don’t get it, do you think they get nervous?”

“Nervous around me? I doubt it. Sure what’s there to be nervous of?”

“It’s a lot of pressure, you know, making love to a beautiful woman for the first time. There’s a lot on the line, the chances of humiliation are high, maybe, I don’t know, maybe that guy just blurted the first weird thing that came into his head-” He breaks off because a high pitched laugh has exploded out of him again, “But it’s a flex to say that you’re so hot that you give men nosebleeds.”

“Oh come on, you’re exaggerating.”

“No, for real. Don’t you remember how nervous you made me when we were young? I turned into a total idiot around you.”

“Hardly.”

“It’s true. You were like this stunning princess and I was just some guy.”

I scoff, “Some guy?”

“Yeah, and it’s nice to see that some things never change because you’re still so beautiful and I’m still just a random man off the street.”

“Hmm, c’mon, you’re just schmoozing me,” I say, “Is this the way you all sweet-talk each other in Los Angeles? That’s not going to work. Irish girls are too humble to accept that.”

“Have I made you self-conscious?”

“No, I’m just wondering if you’re actually trying to flirt with me now or if you’re just trying to make me feel better about the fact that I’m thirty and my body is slowly ageing and rotting away.”

“Don’t say that, you look better than ever.”

I narrow my eyes, “I’m so curious about your game.”

“What do you mean?”

“Yeah, how you approach women, how you flirt with them now. What’s your technique? Is it intense flattery?”

He scoffs, “Oh, no, come on, I don’t have a technique, I don’t think about it like that.”

“No?”

“What do you think I am? Some kind of weirdo pick-up artist? No. I… I improvise, it depends on so much, like, where I am, who she is, what I feel like I’m hoping to get from the situation…”

“Okay okay, right. Well what if you were at an event with friends. Say, a wedding…”

He smirks at me.

“…and you see a woman standing on her own by the bar, and you know, she’s pretty mysterious in quite a sexy way, and you’re looking at her and thinking, hmm, yeah, maybe I’d like a piece of that-”

“You think that’s my inner monologue?” He interrupts, “That I think like that?”

“No, shh- shut up for a second, in this scenario you do. And you’re going to go over and talk to her, and you see the perfect opportunity to do it, and the lights from the dancefloor are shining in her hair, and oh, she looks so lonely over there, someone should go and keep her company…’

“I’d say hi, you’re very pretty, can I kiss you please?”

“Really?”

“Yeah t-”

He doesn’t finish because I have grabbed him by the lapels and pressed my lips against his. Maybe it’s for the joke, or because I’m slightly drunk, or maybe it’s to see if it still feels the way that it used to, I don’t know. I don’t really think about it, it’s just happening.

“Oh look, it worked!” I say as we pull away, and I don’t really have a chance to try and read his face to see what he thinks about it because he takes a step towards me and kisses me again, though differently to how I kissed him, gentler, slower, with my head cradled in his hands, which is inconvenient because he makes my insides start flip flopping around. I draw back laughing, “What are you at?”

“We’re kissing now,” he confirms, then frowns, “I think. Aren’t we kissing? Or is this a hallucination?”

“Jude…”

“Don’t you want us to be kissing?”

“Well it’s not that, it’s-”

“Ah, you think it’s dangerous to be kissing.”

“If you keep saying ‘kissing’ it’s going to lose all meaning.”

“What did we call it when we were teenagers? Shiftin’ right? Will you shift me, Evie?”

“Oh my God,” I hold my hand up to his face, “it is illegal for you to put on an accent and say that. I hate that you can still do that.”

“My Irish voice?” he says in his Irish voice.

“Please get that away from me!”

“Sorry about that,” he settles back into his American drawl, and I jerk with surprise as I feel the tips of his fingers graze my waist, “Also, I’m sorry that I kissed you, I thought we were, you know, doing that now.”

“It was a joke… And maybe just a little bit so that I could see if it still felt the same as it used to.”

His eyes tour my face, “Did it?”

“Did it for you?”

The corners of his mouth tick up, “I don’t know, it’s been a long time since I’ve kissed you, and honestly I didn’t get a decent sample, mind if I try it again?”

“Aha! I’ve figured out your game,” I declare, “You put on that silly act you’ve always put on, don’t you?”

He hooks his finger into the strap of my dress before it drops off my shoulder, “Hm? What act is that?”

“Your favourite one. ‘Oh, little old me? I’m so innocent, why I’ve never even held hands before, and I certainly haven’t fucked half of Dublin city. I don’t even know what sex is.’”

He gasps with delight and stares right into my face, “You’re still obsessed!” He cries, “and you haven’t stopped wondering about me!”

“About what, exactly?”

“My body count! After all these years it still tortures you. You’re so shallow…”

“Oh please, I couldn’t care less.”

“Evie,” He says mock-scoldingly, really drawing out the syllables, “I can’t believe it. I told you back then that it didn’t matter, that I didn’t have to tell you if I didn’t want to, but you’ve never let it go to this day. Wow. Wow.”

“I don’t even want to know,” I sniff, “It’s meaningless information to me now.”

“Well since you don’t care and it has no power over you anymore, maybe you finally ought to know…” He glances quickly around the empty lobby before his eyes slide back to mine and he whispers, “that you were the seventh.”

“The seventh?”

“Is that a good-surprise or bad-surprise?”

“Well I thought it’d be so many more.”

He shrugs, “No, I mean there was the first girl in the playground, then a girl who worked in the tennis club at the beach, a girl from my maths class at school, Michelle, someone from my university, Astrid, and then you-” He pauses, “Wait, there was another one. You were eighth. Seventh and a half.”

“And a half? Who did you forget? A centaur?”

He shakes his head, “There was an awkward foursome situation in Berlin once. It’s a long story, really stupid. I’ll tell you about it later.”

“Well I’ve never been more curious.”

“I’m a source of a lot of interesting info.”

“Like your current body count?” I tease.

“Oh, now I’m ran-through.”

“Tell me more about your life.”

“We just don’t have the time tonight.”

“What, not now?” I protest, “Not in this perfectly perfect situation when we’re both a little drunk and potentially snowed in for days, when there’s nothing to do but talk to each other?”

“No, see you’ve changed the subject, you’ve got me messed up. I…” He laughs tipsily and sways a little bit closer to me, through accident or otherwise I’m not sure, “…I was thinking about how much I might like to kiss you for a little longer this time, just to see if you still give me that same crazy feeling that I used to get with you, and you distracted me.”

I act like it’s a burden to me and slump back against the wall, “Fine, go ahead.”

“Oh jeez, no need to beg me, you know it’s off putting to be so eager?”

“Please?”

He comes in close and pecks my lips gently and even that makes my knees start to wobble. “No, come on, give me a proper kiss, that’s the only way we’ll know.”

“Still so demanding,” He tilts my chin towards him and angles his mouth over mine while his hands skim up my back and hold my body flush to his. As he strokes his lips over mine I can’t help but curse inwardly because of course this is happening to me, of course it feels like everything I’ve been searching for in the years between then and now, everything I couldn’t find in other people. These are the kinds of kisses that ruined me for other men for years to follow, and he’s ruining me now.

He glides his tongue along my lower lip and builds this kiss to the kind of intensity that shouldn’t be displayed in a public lobby, but he doesn’t care so neither do I. He kisses me until I’m soft and formless in his arms, until I forget the years in between then and now, and then he finally slows it, brushing his lips against mine and then gently drawing away and I find myself following his mouth in search of more, “The same?” He murmurs with his forehead against mine, “Or terrible?”

His hand cradles the back of my head as I sigh and bury my face in his shoulder, “What are we going to do, Jude?”

“You’re going to have to try not to be awkward about it because we might be snowed in for several days.” He says, “If you’ve decided I’m crusty and repulsive, you’re going to have to hide it from me to spare my ego. Either that or I’ll camp out in my room out of humiliation and get my sister to bring my meals to me until I can get the earliest flight to LAX.”

I pause, “so you’re sharing with your sister?”

“Yeah we booked late, so a twin room was all they had left. And she snores like hell.”

“Well that’s a pity because I booked months ago, and got a huge room all to myself. A four poster bed and a big gorgeous bath.”

“Are you bringing that up to make me jealous or is that an invitation?”

I scoff, “an invitation to what, exactly?”

“Come up and fuck you in the bath or something, I don’t know. Why would you bring the bath into it?”

“That’d be fairly shameless of me, wouldn’t it, if that’s what I was alluding to.”

“Is that the kind of woman you’ve become? The kind that invites strange men into her bath?”

“God no, I’d never directly ask that, that’d be very slutty.”

He brushes his fingers gently along the side of my neck, which is unfair because he knows how much I like that, and as I feel that touch all the way down to my toes he gives me a sly little smile and draws back to look at me, “I don’t know, you’ve really talked up this bath and you’ve got me curious. Will you show it to me?”

“You’ve always been so cheeky, did you know that? You ask audacious things of people.”

“Me? Never. That’s just not me, you must be thinking of somebody else. Of one of your other ex-boyfriends.” He grins and saunters casually toward the stairs, glancing over his shoulder at me as he goes, “I actually just remembered that I spilled something on my suit.”

“Did you.”

“Mm, I’m a total mess, I might be drunker than I look. I think I better go and take it off.”

“Doesn’t suit you anyway. You were always better in shorts.”

He pauses for a moment and regards me with one raised eyebrow, a question, and I don’t care that I’m predictable to him, that he already knows I will push myself away from the wall and catch up to him, “Actually you have the right idea, my dress is uncomfortable. I want to change out of it, only I’m not sure I can manage the zip on my own.”

“Oh, I can help you with that,” he says, “Or at least I can try, you know, but fair warning I haven’t ever undressed a woman before.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” I smile, as I wind my fingers through his.

THE END

Beginning // Prev

#lucky girl part 3 #it's over!!!#i mean it's been over on WP fro about 3 months but it's nice to have caught up here finally #and on my 30th birthday!#crazy timing tbh #thank you all again for reading along #this project really was so amazing and so special to me #tw: sex mention

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ussgallifrey · 15 days

Text

(She Moves With) Shameless Wonder | 23

✦ Summary: Your badge clearly said SHIELD consultant, so you weren’t entirely sure where Fury was getting this whole make you an Avenger idea from. But you had a feeling it might have something to do with the recent discovery of an artifact at the bottom of the Arctic Sea.

✦ Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

✦ Warnings: Canon divergence, dialogue taken directly from Avengers: Age of Ultron, allusions of accepting death, blood, careless mistakes, dark visions, drowning, injuries, mass injuries & casualties, minor medical violence, language, references to 9/11, references to trauma suffered by Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers' mental prowess, Thor making brash decisions, violence

✦ Word Count: 11.3k

✦ Playlist: Here

✦ Cinematic Soundtrack: Here

✦ Author's Note: Okay, yeah, this one is a heavier chapter. I had a joy writing it, though. One thing that always irked me with the movie was how every Avenger suffered through a terrible vision when Wanda used her powers upon them. And originally Steve was supposed to be dealing with the guilt he had over never going back for Bucky. And, instead, we got that entire dance hall scene with Peggy. I don't know, it just sort of rubbed me the wrong way. So, in this chapter, I promised myself I would properly traumatize the poor man. Enjoy!

[Master List]

“Well, that answers it then.”

Steve’s eyes travel to the imposing figure of Thor as the god summons his hammer and begins striding out of the lab. There’s a beat of silence as the team collectively turns to watch him go.

“Okay, hold on,” you say, hurrying after the god.

Tony looks at the supersoldier with a knowing gaze of amusement. Steve’s mouth gapes, opening and closing like a fish out of water before he wordlessly turns and follows after the two of you.

The God of Thunder is already on the stairs, halfway up to the next floor with you a few steps below.

“I’m sorry, in what world do you think we should just be running out of here at the first drop of possible intel?”

“Oh, apologies. Would you prefer that we, what, lay around here and dig through old files while the real enemy is at play? Even you are too wise for that, Olympian.”

With a finger resting above your brow, you turn to look at Steve, your face drawn with clear exasperation.

“You understand what I’m saying, right?” you ask with a vaguely pleading tone.

Steve gives you an affirming nod.

“Thor,” he calls up. “If we jump on the first thing we find, we could be missing the bigger picture.”

“Or, we could just get refused entry into another country. Seems like we’re racking those up nowadays,” the goddess snarks.

You both watch as the Asgardian heaves a long sigh, his fingers flexing along the shaft of Mjolnir as he comes to his decision.

“Come on,” you implore, taking another step closer, your hand outstretched toward him, ready to put aside your own frustrations in favor of a peaceful resolution.

After a beat, Thor reluctantly descends the stairs, ignoring your hand entirely as he breezes past the two of you. You let out a little sigh as he passes, turning your attention back to Steve.

“He’s always been like that. Quick to judgment, quick to action, quick to… anger.”

At that, you absently rub the back of your neck. The fleeting image of an old memory dances in your eyes, one that seems entirely unpleasant. He distantly recalls the fact that your people hadn’t always been on such friendly terms as you are now.

Steve settles you with a warm look.

“We’ll figure this out,” he promises.

“Yeah, hopefully before the rest of them start jumping to the same conclusions and try to fly off to the horn of Africa.”

He offers you a chuckle at that, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder as you both return to the lab. The others have converged around the main workbench that Tony and Bruce had been situated at, while Thor seems to be remaining despondently annoyed near the windows overlooking the city.

“Okay, well this Sarkissian might be worth looking into,” Nat says with an open file in her hand. “There’s like eight other names here too.”

You glance up at him with a sudden assuredness in your eyes. Steve squeezes your shoulder as you move to join the group.

Since their short departure, the billionaire has situated himself at Maria’s laptop, typing away while conversing at Bruce over his shoulder. The other scientist seems unfazed and partially disinterested in whatever it is Tony is saying, too busy with his own stack of files to look up and acknowledge him.

“Here,” you smile, offering him up another stack.

Steve flashes you a smile as he glances down at the Cyrillic letters.

“Those two,” you glance over at Tony and Bruce, “Are currently working out some formula to locate Klaue. I give it an hour before they try to make for the jet.”

“So, we better get working?” he raises his brows, a smirk tugging at his lips.

In the span of forty-five minutes, you’ve uncovered a connection between Strucker and Georges Batroc. However, a quick call to Maria confirms that the mercenary is still secured behind bars. Steve finds multiple mentions of a задача мастер, which Nat informs him translates roughly to Task Master, probably a pseudo name for some lower-level manager on the HYDRA ladder if she had to hazard a guess. Someone finds a few references to an Allegra de Fontaine as well, but there’s no real record on any database that Clint can seem to find.

Which leads to Tony clapping his hands together after a quick stretch of his shoulders.

“Alright, I’m calling it. We’re going to Johannesburg, well you probably are,” he amends, pointing at everyone but himself. “I want to nip this shit while we can. Hence, scoot.”

He waves his hands dismissively, as if excusing them all from his presence.

You give a long-suffering sigh, smacking a folder closed on yet another file.

“I don’t think it’s the right path, Tony.”

“Ah,” Thor chuckles, heartless in his tone. “You would rather have us holed up in this tower then? Hmmm? Or shall we allow Strucker to take hold of the scepter once again? Perhaps he can accomplish his goals at last.”

The reminder of the Leviathan shell at the base of Strucker’s operation rings hauntingly through Steve’s thoughts. He had perused the files after Maria’s meeting the other day. He knew all about the Baron’s plans for crafting mechanical nightmares out of alien tanks.

“That’s not - ” you rub your hand over your forehead before rolling your shoulders back to give your fellow god a look, “- if we get this wrong, if we follow the wrong lead, not only do we have Strucker and the scepter to contend with, but Ultron as well. Have we truly eliminated every possibility for what Ultron could have been seeking information on?”

There’s a shattering stillness that permeates the lab. Sam and Steve share a silent exchange, a few questions coming to mind in the brief silence.

“Look,” Tony coughs after a minute. “I’m not saying it’s a great lead, but it’s our only one that, right now, could be an immediate threat. This thing gets its hands on vibranium? I’m telling you, we’re going to be in over our heads.”

“Fine,” you wave your arms in defeat, settling back on the stool.

“And hey,” the billionaire rounds the table to gently smack you on the shoulder, “if you’re really feeling all deadset on this, hang back this round and keep digging. God knows you’ll be the one to find something in this mess, Goddess of Knowledge and all that.”

With a cursory look around the lab, Steve clenches his jaw. It looked like a tornado had ripped through the place, with stacks of empty boxes and piles of papers and files strewn about the floor and every other available surface.

It takes only a few minutes longer to decide who will be going on the mission.

When Steve returns to the lounge area, already suited up with his helmet in hand and shield resting on his back, he finds you. Standing near the recently plastic-covered windows. Tony was waiting for his window guy to install them on Wednesday, apparently. You’re conversing with Nat when he emerges from the elevator.

His gaze travels up to the ceiling where a beam of golden light halos the room and where your plummed helm descends from an otherworldly realm. Into your hands, it drops.

“Here, just in case,” you smile, handing it over to the spy.

Nat shakes her head, glancing over at Steve as he approaches.

“He’s really got a thing about it, doesn’t he?”

“Hey,” you shrug. “If it helps it helps. Anyway, keep safe. Any luck and I’ll see you and that scepter back here in a few hours' time.”

The redhead offers you a smile and then Steve one as well before she, and the helm, head in the direction of the lab. The supersoldier turns, watching until he’s certain she’s disappeared from both sight and earshot before he returns his attention to you.

Rubbing your hands up and down your arms, you offer him a simple, “Hey.”

He lets the silence simmer for a moment longer as he takes in your every feature.

“I know that look.”

Turning your head, you settle him with a curious expression.

“Is that right?”

Steve nods.

“You think we’re about to do something stupid.”

“No,” you push your elbow into his arm. “I know you’re going to do something stupid. I’m just afraid we’re missing something important though, it’s the only reason I’m staying behind. It’s like… I have the puzzle pieces, just not in order yet.”

His face screws slightly at the insult, unable to let it slip past, “Wait, what exactly do you mean I’m going to do something - ”

“I don’t know, jump out of a moving helicarrier or something of the sort?”

“Okay,” he turns on you, flashing a playful smile. “That was one time.”

“Crashing a plane with explosives on board, then. Or, letting a superpowered man smash all of your facial bones to dust.”

At that, he can’t help but wince at the memory. Partly due to the physical pain he can recall from the instance, but mostly due to Bucky. The deeply rooted emotional pain that seeped into his very blood and turned his mind sour. That was, and still remains, the biggest sore point in his day-to-day life.

Your face falls, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to - ”

“No,” he supplies, fixing you with a look that makes it known that he’s not offended. “You’re right, it was… stupid.”

Letting out a sigh, you push your entire right side into his left, dropping your head down before shyly glancing back up at him.

“You did what you had to do in the moment. You always do. Just… try to avoid any scepters to the chest and… aim for the head of any robot you come across.”

Steve lets out a little chuckle, using his free hand to wrap around your waist and draw you even closer into his side. You tilt up into the warmth of your shared body heat and meet his eyes with a dazzling expression that Steve can only describe as purely divine.

“Yes, ma’am,” he murmurs, letting his lips drift down to the crown of your head where he places a feather-light, barely-there, kiss.

As Tony types aimlessly away in the corner of the lab, lips pursed and forehead lines drawn taunt, you pursue yet another ancient file. One that had clearly been tucked away sometime before the invention of the personal computer, as half of the file had been blacked out with marker.

Holding your hair back with your own hand, you read through the lines of Russian reports. It was a rarity to have proper KGB files left in HYDRA / SHIELD’s hands, but you had certainly lucked out with this particular box.

The billionaire gives a long, drawn-out sigh as he pulls away from the table to rub his eyes with the backs of his hands.

“Words blurring together yet?” you ask.

“Nearly.”

Running a hand across his jaw, he stands and makes his way over to you. With one hand on the table and the other on your left shoulder, he peers down at your current reading.

“Anything good?”

“Old intel mostly, a few commander names here and there, but I have to assume most of them are long since dead at this point. There’s mentions of a base in Siberia, a dinner party with the American U.N. Ambassador set for March 1973 - ”

At that, Tony scoffs.

“ - and about a dozen mentions of the Red Guardian and the Winter Soldier.”

He blinks, “Oh shit.”

You hum in reply, flipping the page to reveal a sepia-toned portrait of the Guardian. Tony leans back against the workbench then, picking up the file for himself.

“Anything… useful to, you know, Rogers’ mission?”

You give a shake of your head, “No, unfortunately. It just mentioned his name in passing. The Asset was sent to deal with Kuznetov, the Winter Soldier was apprehended in Samara, the Soldier brought out of stasis for the mission.”

He flips another page before dropping it back in front of you, “Jesus.”

“Yeah.”

“But…” he seems to take an extra second to consider his next few words, “You don’t think Barnes is…?”

It takes you all of five seconds to consider the notion, before you ultimately shake your head, “Highly unlikely, if nearly improbable. If you can’t find him with all of your tech, how would Ultron manage such a feat? And even if he did, I don’t think Bucky would be assisting him willingly.”

“Alright,” he sighs, glancing back at his own workstation a few feet away. “Let me know if you find anything of use.”

“Will do,” you reply, already pulling out the next folder in the pile. But then you look up, just as he gets back to his seat. “Any word yet? From the team?”

He gives you a low smile, curled up at the edges as he flicks at a few buttons on his keyboard, “Just over the equator now, ETA twenty minutes.”

You give Tony a nod of thanks, before returning to the mess of files in front of you. While you had nearly limited down Strucker’s known accomplices, you were certain there was something bigger that you were missing. But as you dug in deeper and deeper, the small details became increasingly harder to look away from. Like staring at a Seurat painting and being unable to see the cheerful Sunday afternoon around all of the dots.

Just as you’re about to grab another box, your eyes catch sight of movement just outside of the lab.

“Hey,” you call. “You heading out?”

Sam, with a bag tugged over his right shoulder, trudges up the stairs to the otherwise empty lab. He gives you a little shrug.

“I got a day job, you know.”

“And here I thought your day job was chasing James Barnes across central Europe.”

Tony snorts, not even bothering to look up from his phone.

“Might as well be,” Sam drones, dropping onto the stool opposite yours.

While the rest of the team - you and Tony excluded - had all left for South Africa nearly forty minutes ago, the man across from you had decided to call it quits for the time being.

“Nah, I gotta check in on my Ma and Sarah while I got the time,” he answers.

To the best of your understanding, Sam wasn’t officially an Avenger, similar to Rhodes. Though he might as well have been, considering the amount of time he had been putting in on the HYDRA raids. Or, so Steve had told you over your various meet-ups this past year.

“That’s got to be nice at least,” you smile. “You mentioned something about a new nephew?”

He instantly breaks out into a radiant smile, “Yeah. Cass. I’m telling you, that kid is cute as hell. And as much as I love running around next to America’s golden boy all day, I’m not gonna miss out on this kid’s childhood. Gotta claim that Cool Uncle status early on.”

You give a returning laugh, “Well, never let me be one to keep you from that.”

He hops up from the stool and holds out a hand for you to shake, “Don’t be a stranger now.”

“Never.”

He’s all of three steps out of the lab, nearly on his way to freedom, when Maria runs right into him,

“Sorry, Sam,” she apologizes, almost out of breath as she strides into the lab, her gaze set directly on you.

On instinct, you stand from the table, eyeing her approach. Sam has stopped as well, turning his attention back to the two of you. And Tony’s already headed your way as well.

“I need you to suit up.”

“What’s happened?”

You glance over at the billionaire. If the team was already in trouble in Johannesburg…

She gives a light sigh, swiping something on her tablet before she turns it around for you to see.

“We’ve found Emil Blonsky.”

The name and the memory of the man rumbles around in your head as the Twitter video loops for a second time. A stone pillar is uprooted and thrown down a noisy street, people scream as the camera goes shaky.

“Where?”

“London.”

Tony huffs, “Awfully convenient.”

When both you and Maria turn to look at him, he merely rolls his shoulders.

“What? I’m just saying. Little too coincidental to have him crawling out of the woodwork, in a major city, while we’re locking in on Klaue.”

You shake your head, “He was MIA prior to SHIELD’s downfall. I had been sent to locate him before… everything with the helicarriers above the Potomac even happened.”

“Okay then,” he drops his hands. “Coincidence, not correlation.”

“Seven?” Maria implores.

“Yeah. I got it,” you sigh, already feeling the tension creeping through your shoulders. “I mean, what’s another round with the Abomination?”

Steve rocks his head back against the wall of the quinjet, eyes closed as he prepares himself for the ensuing fight. It would be a fight, he knew that much. Tony had told them the specs of what exactly it was they would be walking into. A group of armed guards and several civilians would be in the ship Klaue was using as his personal shop.

“So…”

His eyes blink open at the sound of Nat.

She only spares him a look as she loads her pistols, though her interest is much more apparent.

“Are you guys an item yet?”

When he only responds with a groan, she smirks. It was worse than when she was actively trying to set him up with his fellow SHIELD agents at the beginning of his time in D.C.

Banner’s seated across from him on the benches as well. He’s only there in case things need to be moved to a Code Green. But, despite the impending possibility of the Hulk coming out, he smirks at Steve. Apparently, even he was in the gossip loop now.

“Barton wanted to know if we should throw a party for you guys when we get back,” Nat continues, unbothered as she secures her weapons.

He fixes her with a look; a tired and all too annoyed look.

“Aww,” she coos, gently tapping his cheek. “You’ll get there sooner or later, Cap.”

“Are you done?”

“Hey, three-minute ETA!” Clint calls out from the pilot’s seat.

She offers him a curved smile as she hovers over him, hands balanced on the overhead bars, “For now.”

As she saunters back to the head of the jet, Steve grabs hold of his helmet and pulls the straps into place. He stares down at the glint and glimmer of the shield on the floor next to his foot.

“It’s… sweet.”

Steve looks up, surprised that Bruce wants to continue whatever this is.

“What is?”

“You and… Athena. I know,” he holds up a defensive hand as Steve goes to refute it. “None of our business, but… it’s kind of hard to just ignore it.”

He huffs, moving to stand as he feels the jet begin its descent.

“Everyone seems to manage with whatever Clint and Nat have going on just fine.”

Bruce shrugs, “They’re in our face nearly every day; we’ve become desensitized to it. You two though… I don’t know, man.”

Steve offers him a sigh as he looks back at the scientist.

“There’s nothing going on there.”

He laughs instead, “I got the message. I’ll shut up about it.”

With a thankful smile, Steve heads toward the cockpit just as the quinjet settles down into a grove of trees near the shoreline.

The tide has long since receded when they approach the ship. Steve watches on as a crew of men come flying down the embarkment ladder, running like their very lives depended on it.

“Well,” Clint intones, fixing his bow. “That doesn’t look too promising.”

The men stumble on the wet sand, but no one seems keen on sticking around longer than necessary as they make for the beach.

“Let’s get moving,” he commands, headed for the ladder.

Deep within the belly of the vessel, the emergency lights flicker their ominous warning to the group. The ringing sound of raised voices draws them further into the darkness. One voice, above all others, he recognizes almost instantly.

“You will be of use to me yet.”

As they round the corner, weapons drawn and gazes fixed, they come face to face with the bot that had escaped from the tower. But… it’s different. More put together, more metallic, less… friendly peacekeeping Stark drone. The white plastic shell remains, but the haphazard wiring that had been pulled apart during the fight at the tower has been fully repaired; patched.

Klaue nudges at his henchman and they quickly disappear down the opposing gangway, but that’s not where their focus needs to be right now. Klaue will be dealt with another day. Ultron is where their concern lies.

“I’m not seeing a scepter,” Nat whispers in hushed tones.

“So…” Clint calls out, “What’s with the vibranium?”

Nat readies her guns, Thor tightens his grip on his hammer, Steve fixes his posture and braces himself.

The drone tilts his head to the side, almost humanlike in the maneuver.

“Barton, Clinton Francis. Would you like me to tell you my plan? Is that an effective use of my time here? Perhaps it is…”

“Enough!” Thor rumbles, throwing his hammer out toward the robot.

But, instead of sending the drone flying back into the wall, they all stare in slight horror as the bot grips hold of the straining hammer, turning its visual optics toward the God of Thunder. It blinks.

“How… interesting.”

The hammer drops to the ground with a deafening clang.

Steve watches it settle into the metal grates for just a second longer before arrows and bullets begin flying. He rushes forward, shield in hand as he leaps up to strike at its neck.

Mjolnir soars past him as he attempts to make contact, but a rough metallic arm pushes him back at the last second, sending him over the railing into the stack of weapon crates down below. As the world spins on edge, he can almost hear the sound of Natasha’s urgent calls, of electric ripples of lightning. But he pushes it all away as he moves to stand up. He sways on his feet, head heavy, and then something darts out of his peripheral.

Small, impish, the crouched figure slinks along the wall.

He throws his shield up at the last second as Ultron comes surging down toward him, the force of the robot sends him reeling right back into the crates. Electric blue light ignites just next to his prone body, which he quickly twists to avoid as Thor comes soaring down after the drone.

Steve can see Nat wandering down the stairs, slightly dazed, and he wants to call out to her, but then a girl appears in front of him. Short-statured, wide-eyed.

A kid.

A terrified-looking kid, standing in the middle of a deadly fight. He tries to sit up, but her dark eyes begin to glow red and he finds himself frozen in place.

“What…” he tries to say, but the words turn to sludge in his throat.

And then something pricks the side of his temple and his vision begins to swim.

“So, what’s the deal on Blonsky?” Sam asks, fully suited up as you guide him past the police barricade.

While Tony had offered to pull a suit out of storage to help out, you had said he would be better use to the team if anything went wrong with Klaue, or if Ultron showed up. Sam had been harder to push back. So, reluctantly, the two of you transported over to England in a quick jump.

“Uhm… a few years back the American government tried to recreate the supersoldier serum. Bruce got dosed first, things went… well, green. They wanted to take him down but, you know, Hulk. So, Emil Blonsky got another dose, but varied. And… the Abomination was born.”

You can hear the sound of aggravated, animalistic roars up ahead. The two of you pick up your pace.

“I helped get him into custody and he was on ice until someone, or something, broke him out. And he’s pretty much been off the radar ever since. Oh, and… he doesn’t get to come back, like Bruce. He’s just…”

The words you were about to say simmer out in your mouth as you round the corner where several tanks are positioned, armed soldiers at the ready.

“Like that,” you finish lamely.

Sam gawks at the creature in front of you, ripping apart the stairs in front of the Natural History Museum. You were just a stone’s throw away from Buckingham Palace. To your knowledge, the royal family was already being evacuated as a precaution.

Curious place for Blonsky to turn up though. He had to get here somehow; unseen. In a major city too. More puzzle pieces out of order, more questions to be answered.

“Like I said, stay clear. Don’t fly too low. You’re my backup, but you’re no match for this.”

Tony had questioned the idea of bringing Bruce in to help, but you quickly reminded him how that had turned out for Harlem all those years back. No, this was your problem now.

“All right,” you sigh, gripping your sheathed sword’s handle. “Let’s try not to die.”

Sam shoots you a wide-eyed look as you approach the creature.

“HEY. Blonsky!”

He turns, eyes narrowing as all of his attention focuses right on you. He drops a bent lamppost to the ground, which makes the concrete around it break under the weight.

Pulling your sword free, you twirl it around in your hand before dropping into a low stance, with your teeth bared and your eyes burning melted golden hues, you call out:

“Remember me?”

Steve blinks against the blur of red clouding his vision, the metallic taste of blood clings to his lips as he pushes up from the crates, shield in his exhausted grip as he surveys the damage. His movements feel slow; like he’s walking through molasses.

But then someone darts along the right wall.

And he recognizes that silhouette.

But the words in his mouth are deafened by a build-up of imaginary sand, so he stumbles after the person, trying to catch up to them instead.

They’re running now, faster than Steve can keep up with. And as he races down the corridors of the darkened ship, the pants of exalted breath turn to screams. Screams that grow louder, last longer. Torn vocal cords that are filleted open with a knife drench the walls in blood as that person begs for help, for mercy, for the pain to stop. And Steve can’t stop running now, chest aching as he tries to catch that person, that man.

He’s so close now, nearly catching his arm as he rounds one last corner.

And then… he’s on the bow of the ship.

The sliver of moonlight and pure starlight illuminates the terrified figure of Bucky Barnes, hunched near the railing, his hands covering his face as he shouts for Steve.

“God damnit! Why the hell did you just leave me?”

Steve takes a step forward, words desperate to spill out, but nothing falls from his lips. His mouth has been sewn shut.

No, Bucky. I’m sorry, God. I’m so sorry.

“End of the line, pal. That’s what you promised me.”

He’s standing up now, staring at the blonde with such unadulterated hatred, that Steve nearly shrinks against the power of it.

“Useless.”

He turns at the sudden change of voice that drifts from over his shoulder.

“Pathetic, can’t even save his best friend.”

Peggy Carter saunters across the ship, looking just like he last saw her in 1945. Red lips, bouncing curls, a heated look that stems from a place of disgust. She stands next to Bucky, a hand on her hip, another on his shoulder as she breaks him down with a single glare.

“Captain America, everyone.”

Rockets go off overhead. He watches the explosions in the pitch midnight skies, just for blood and guts to rain down on him. He furiously tries to wipe the sensation of sickly liquid from his eyes, crouching down as it hails upon him, obscuring his vision. He’s drowning under it.

But it’s not blood.

As his body begins to burn, his arms reach out - trying to grasp hold of anything, god anything - but his hands slice through the frozen Arctic waters. And he can feel it burning his throat, his lungs. Helpless bubbles escape his lips, but his screams can’t be heard through the silence of an endless void. Dark as the evening sky, endless as a black hole.

His body sinks as all feeling is drawn from his extremities, and he is cold, oh so very cold. So cold that he burns. And he is alone. Completely alone.

And he has failed.

Failed them all.

As his vision swims in and out of focus and he accepts his fate, his body submerging further and further, his failures fill his mind.

The names and the people he had never managed to save.

Their cries.

Their screams.

He deserves this.

This terrible fate.

It is his to grab, his consolation prize.

He sinks to the ocean floor.

“NO! You’re just making him angrier!” You call out, with your hands around Blonsky’s neck as he tries to throw you against the exterior walls of the museum.

“YOU SAID USE MY FLARES.”

“Not while I’m on him!” You roar as he manages to knock you back even harder than the other seven times.

Sam circles around, lining up his sights just in front of the steps.

The tanks had already used up some of their ammo before the soldiers realized that the Abomination was practically indestructible. Which left you to deal with the creature’s renewed anger as he threw a tank directly at Sam.

He had managed to twist out of the way in time, but it definitely landed somewhere near Harrods. Sirens had been going off nonstop since your encounter began and the screams of terrified civilians had mostly faded away as the evacuation of the city took place.

Where the hell was Sersi when you needed her?

“Oh, come on!”

Blonsky shoulders the pillar outside of the museum, making rubble and roofing collapse down upon the two of you.

Using your strength to push it off, you find yourself pulled up by the ankle. His monstrous hand wraps itself around your limb, pulling you high over the steps of the museum’s entrance.

“Puny.”

You manage to pull yourself up enough to look at him, “What did you call me?”

He smirks, fanged teeth gleaming a sickly yellow as he shakes your limp form like a ragdoll before pulling back and tossing you.

Your body soars through the air before a rough set of arms wraps around you.

“Got you!” Sam shouts as he leans right, trying to avoid a ball of concrete thrown at the two of you.

“God, he’s relentless.”

You fix the Falcon with a look that says all that you were unwilling to scream in Sam’s face as he quickly deposits you back on the ground.

“He’s really starting to piss me off.”

You barely manage to veer out of the way of a lamppost.

“What a shame.”

Against the frozen waters, against his own body’s desire to let go, he blinks open his eyes.

“Ma?”

Sarah Rogers, not looking a day over thirty, glances up at him from her rocking chair near the fireplace, her knitting needles in hand. Though she puts them down as she settles him with a tired look.

“I thought I had raised you better than that?”

Steve blinks a second time, then a third.

His hands drop down to his sides as his feet settle onto the solid wood floor of their old tenement apartment. He glances behind him, at the lone window. It’s a sea of darkness outside. The only light permeates from his mother’s glow and the low embers of the flickering flames.

“Did I raise you like that?”

“No, ma’am,” he answers, quick and sure.

“I thought I told you to stand up. Never back down from a fight. Yet… here you are.”

She gestures vaguely at him, at the room.

Storm surge rocks against the old walls, coiling up and slamming the door with renewed force.

“You’re destined for something bigger than this and you’re not going to get your answers at the bottom of the sea, are you?”

He shakes his head, feeling every bit like a young child under his mother’s gaze.

She rises from her chair, darning set aside.

“Come on then. Straight back, chin up, eyes forward.”

He does exactly that, going to perfect attention. And he can almost feel the ghost of her hand on his cheek as she looks up at him with a long-forgotten admiration that only a mother’s eyes can give.

The powerful waves slam into the door once again, causing the wood to creak and the window’s glass to crack.

“Pull yourself up, Steve Rogers.”

The water rushes in, bursting through the windows and extinguishing the fire. His mother and the apartment are sucked up by the glossy darkness of the ocean. But he kicks his feet, strains against the burning in his lungs and his limbs, as he surges for the surface. Giving it everything he can as he rises, higher and higher. And he can almost see the light when a hand appears in front of his face -

“Hey, how many fingers am I holding up?”

He blinks against the sudden change, pulling back slightly and squeezing his eyes hard to fight against it.

“Come on, Cap. I can’t wrangle Nat and Thor by myself.”

And then reality settles back into place.

He lets out a breath.

He is Steve Rogers.

He is Captain America.

And he needs to shove his shit away and be a leader right now.

Pushing off from the crates, he eases himself up, with Clint’s help and a pained groan.

From across the floor of the ship, he can see Nat situated on the bottom of the grated stairs; head in hand. Thor is leaning against the railing up above them all. They both look like they’ve been through the wringer a few times over.

He stares at the archer, pulling his helmet off as he surveys the damage. There’s no sight of Ultron or the girl anywhere. Just four heroes lingering in their defeat.

“What the hell just happened?”

In the distance, he can hear the horrid sound of the Hulk’s screams echoing off of the ship’s walls.

“Let’s recap later?” Clint suggests, shouldering his bow as he moves to help Nat up.

Steve stares up at Thor, who’s already returning his look with one of pure fear. He’s never been so uneased before as he is seeing that haunted look in the god’s eyes. But their situation isn’t changing and standing here won’t even begin to help them, so he picks up his shield and does what he knows how to do; lead.

Sam flew too low, his wing’s been snapped right off the pack, and he is at the mercy of the Abomination.

“Come on, focus! You know you want to take it out of me. I’m the one who locked you away, remember?”

You’ve positioned yourself right in front of the other man, sword at the ready. Verbal threats spitting like fire from the tip of your tongue to distract him, to hold his focus away from the very vulnerable human behind you.

Blonsky brushes you to the side with a swipe of his massive arm, throwing you off balance. Sam backs down the steps of the museum’s entrance, armed and ready to fight. But he must know that mere bullets won’t even deter the creature.

And then, from across the white rooftops of the English city street, a charging whoosh rocks you both back, as fifty Legion bots come soaring to the rescue.

The Abomination does his best to beat them back, but they quickly overpower him, jumping on top of his back until he’s buried under the weight of metallic drones.

There, in the aftermath of destruction, surrounded by crumbling buildings and sirens and armed officers and broken tanks, Blonsky submits to his defeat. Pushing yourself back to your feet, sweat dripping from your brow, you sheath your sword.

“You good?” you call out to Sam.

He taps down his chest and thighs, a little breathless as he answers, “Still intact, still breathin’.”

You give him a nod. It was all you could hope for after that encounter. Moving toward him, you pick up the broken piece of his wing pack. He frowns at it.

“Thank god for Tony, at least.”

He looks over at the pile of drones, still squirming slightly as they try to keep the monster pinned down. Blonsky’s gilled face is peeking out from the bottom of the pile, he blows a raspberry with his tongue - unable to do much more than that.

“Must have fixed the interface or something,” you sigh, brushing at the dirt and grime on your bare arms. Striding over toward the pile, you ask the first bot you see, “Do we have transport ready?”

“Everything is ready to transport the Abomination,” comes the monotone reply.

You give them a nod, lightly tap Blonsky on the cheek - he growls in return, but is completely incapable of moving - before you return to Sam.

“Okay, let’s wrap this up. I’ll talk to the captain in charge and get everything secured.”

He absently rubs at his arm, staring at the pile of robots atop the mutated creature, “Bet Steve’s having a hell of a lot easier time than we just did.”

Giving a smile in return, you say, “We can only hope,” before you walk over to the approaching soldiers to finish off the last-minute details of Blonsky’s transfer.

A group of journalists and camera-wielding reporters try to push past the barricade to get a good shot of the final moments, all eyes on Blonsky and Tony’s legion bots.

The tower is quietly humming when you and Sam pop back into the lab. Maria startles from behind her laptop. Her suit jacket is removed and she has her hair pulled back tight, with a troubling look on her face as you both laugh.

“Remind me to never team up with you again. No solo missions with the Warrior Queen,” Sam smirks, removing his goggles at last.

“I’ll try not to take that too much to heart,” you smile in return. But then your gaze meets the agent’s, and your joyful mood sinks. “What? What’s happened?”

“Tony. He’s had to call in Veronica.”

Sam’s head tilts to the side.

“Who’s Veronica?”

Maria sighs, “You mean what is Veronica.”

As you both turn to look at each other in confusion, she pulls up a video - a live feed - of a giant Iron Man suit currently pummeling Hulk into the pavement. Eyes widen in horror, you watch on as the cameraperson ducks into a doorway as the Hulk chucks a giant piece of concrete at the suit.

“What the hell happened?” Sam questions, hands poised on his hips.

“Unknown,” she clips. “Something attacked the away team - ”

You feel fear clutch at your throat like a skeletal hand.

“ - only Barton was able to get through to me. He’s got the others now, in the quinjet. But, obviously, Banner’s situation is becoming a concern.”

“I can go.”

Sam pushes at your arm, “You just took on a Hulk. And, no offense, if it wasn’t for the Legion jumping in - ”

“I had him on the ropes. He was getting worn down. Another chokehold and I would have - ”

Maria holds up a hand, silencing you both.

“Sam. What did you just say?”

He opens and closes his mouth for just a moment before he answers, “I get that she’s got the godly powers and all, but if it wasn’t for Stark’s pals coming in to save our asses, I’m not sure how great we’d be walking about from that all right now.”

She blinks.

“What are you talking about?”

“Tony, he sent in the Legion. There were like, what, fifty of them?” you question toward Sam, and he nods at your assessment.

“Stark didn’t - we didn’t. Oh my god.”

She spins away so fast, that you almost feel whiplash from it.

“Are you saying - ”

Maria already has a phone to her ear, “No we didn’t release any of the Legion, are you insane? Why would you think that - Yes, hello? Do you currently have the Abomination in hand?”

You take a step forward, brows furrowing, “I secured handover with Captain Randall myself.”

With a long-suffering sigh, she tucks the speaker into her neck.

“While you might have done that, those drones clearly had something else in mind. He’s missing. And I can assure you, neither this tower nor the government sent in anyone other than the British military to assist in that operation.”

In an instant, your heart sinks, guilt and terror rising through your chest like hot magma as you question what have I done? Horrified eyes land on Sam, who looks equally startled by the revelation.

Maria listens to the caller for a minute more before she asks you, “Did they identify themselves?”

With delayed horror, you realize that, “No, they didn’t.”

“Okay, yes then. We are dealing with an armed force. Likely all stemming from a central command point. I am aware, yes - ” she trails off, moving out of the lab, but not before flashing her stern eyes at the two of you.

You drop down onto the nearest stool.

“How did I not know? How the hell did I not suspect - ”

Sam kneels down, holding a hand to your forearm, “I didn’t either. I didn’t say one damn word when I saw them.”

“But I should have known! Tony would have never let the Legion out this soon after the AI was corrupted. Cronus, they’re probably connected right to the rogue bot. And now, now, they have Strucker, and the scepter, and the Abomination!”

You scrub your hands down your face, dragging the skin in aggravation at your own pitiful lapse of intelligent thinking. How could you not have known or even suspected just for one second -

“Okay,” Maria sighs, returning to the lab. “One sliver of good news is that we have Banner in transport now. He’s unconscious, but he’s been secured. At least… that threat’s over.”

“But I’ve just made another one,” you surmise, shame drenching your expression.

Before she can even speak, something whips right past her - sending the loose papers from the file boxes flying up in a sudden flurry. They scatter across the room like falling leaves in autumn as you all turn to stare at the new presence in the room.

“You know,” the thick-accented boy with shock white hair gleams, arms crossed as he plucks his fingers against the edge of her laptop. “This place is not nearly as secure as you would expect it to be.”

Bruce is deposited like a heap in the middle of the jet. Tony drapes a thick grey blanket around his shoulders as he gives a cursory glance around at the rest of the battle-worn team.

When Steve had been pulled out of that vision, he didn’t expect to hear the Hulk’s roars. Let alone for Tony to suit up and send one of his strongest armors out against their fellow teammate. Even if it had been entirely necessary, considering the circumstances.

The billionaire’s eyes drift over to Steve, and whatever he sees in the supersoldier’s eyes makes him shudder and press forward with a strange rigidity to his posture.

He’s talking to Maria, that much he knows. But Steve can’t really make out any of the conversation as the images and the words from his vision float around in his mind. The blood and guts, Bucky and Peggy, drowning in an endless abyss of darkness and silence.

Across from him, Natasha is silent, curled in on herself on the bench. Her body silently quakes with violent tremors and her emerald eyes are distant, as though she’s still stuck in her own nightmare. Clint’s speaking to her in low tones, rubbing her back. Steve looks away.

“Blonsky, really?”

His ears perk up as he glances around the corner to see Tony perched at the controls, a phone pressed to his ear.

“And Wilson? Good on them, hope they make it in one piece.”

He gives a hollow laugh at his own joke, but his lips don’t even crack into a smile.

“No, we’re just gonna… keep off the radar and… I don’t know, figure it out.”

Steve looks down at his lap, his fingers are clenched together in a weak fist. There’s tension in his shoulders and he doesn’t know if he wants to exhale a breath or punch a wall. The dichotomy of his own feelings is so scrambled together that he’s not even entirely sure what he is feeling right now.

Only that he aches.

Aches in a way that even the sensation of drowning can’t fully encompass.

It feels like his head isn’t properly screwed on right now; like he took one too many blows. But he knows that isn’t the case. Hell, he was knocked over just like when he was 90 lbs soaking wet. He hadn’t even been a match for that singular robot. Let alone the girl.

Apparently, when he asked Thor and tried to question Natasha, he was the only one who had actually seen her face. Clint had shot at her, from behind, but she had been whisked away by the drone before she was able to force a painful vision upon him.

If that had been the girl that those files from Strucker had been referring to, then, Steve could only wonder, where the hell was the other one? The boy with enhanced speed?

But, as he stares at the broken expressions resting on his team’s faces, he decides that at this moment, he could honestly care less. So, he turns in on himself even further and closes his eyes. Willing the darkness behind his eyelids to not remind him of frozen Arctic waters.

“Where is he, the one with his name on the tower?” The boy aimlessly kicks at a stool. “Bombing another populace perhaps?”

Maria aims her gun at him, hammer cocked.

“You need to step away - ”

Before she can even finish the sentence, he’s standing beside you, holding your sword in hand.

You quickly pluck it from his grasp, staring in slight horror at the fact that you hadn’t even felt him grab it, let alone seen him move across the room.

“Touchy,” he comments playfully as he circles both you and Sam.

“The hell do you want, kid?”

The boy, who’s barely even a foot shorter than Sam, merely shrugs as he continues to move toward Maria, entirely unbothered by the Glock pointed at his face.

And then, like the slow-rising sun, it dawns on you.

“You’re the mutant, from Strucker’s lab.”

He pauses, for just a second to look at you before he rolls his shoulders and smiles, “Guilty.”

“What do you want?” your brows furrow.

“Peace, in our time.”

Sam leans his head toward you, “That sounds familiar.”

Maria huffs, “Been talking to the killer robot, have you?”

“See, he’s a very convincing man.”

“He’s manipulating you,” you say, plain and even.

The boy stops, turning to stare at your face. Something glimmers in his cool eyes, but he blinks it away.

“He said you would say that.”

Sam snorts, “How surprising.”

“Come on kid,” Maria implores. “That thing, whatever it promised you, is not worth it. He’s not going to be the thing that protects you or saves you. Either of you.”

His eyes sharpen at her final words.

“And you will? Friends of Stark? The man who drops bombs on babies and children? How about the man who watches a city crumble to ruins and walks away when he’s done in the spotlight?”

“You think Ultron can do better?”

He shrugs again, leaning against the workbench, “I don’t know. London looks good right now.”

Sam shoots you a look.

“But I digress,” he smiles, bashfully shaking out his hair before he meets your eyes. “For the Goddess of Knowledge, you really are oblivious.”

Your gaze hardens.

“Meaning?”

A shot rings out, blasting through the lab as an explosion rocks the floor - hardware and files shooting up into the air before crashing down upon the three of you, fire breaking out across the electronics, and the glass windows overlooking the lab below shatter.

You hold out your arm, blocking Sam from a falling file cabinet.

The boy’s already at the entrance to the lab, grinning ear to ear.

“What? You didn’t see that coming?”

As he zips away, disappearing in a flash, another face comes into view. A masked face.

“Hey, sweetheart. I was really wondering when we’d get to finish our little fight?”

The flashing red and white lights begin going off overhead as Maria pulls the fire alarm - a sharp wailing joins the chaos - as Rumlow points his gun directly at you and Sam.

You end up donkey-kicking Sam to the side as you roll to avoid his fire. The ex-STRIKE member gives a maniacal laugh as he chases you across the lab with his gun. Bullets ricochet across the workbenches and the walls as you dive and twist to avoid him.

“God, like shooting fish in a fucking barrel,” he gleams. You can’t see the smile behind his mask, but you can hear it in his voice. That sick voice of his.

“Incoming!” Sam hollers from across the room.

And you watch, in horror, as a Legion bot comes soaring past - right through the shattered windows into the secondary lab a floor below.

Unwilling to have another failure, another moment pass you by, you take a bullet right to the calve as you jump up and go running after the drone. Followed by another to your left flank and shoulder. Through the broken window frame you go, cutting your skin in the process, as you crash onto the metal grated floor.

With thrumming terror in your chest, you can only stare as the robots around you - all that had been offline since the first breakout - now power on. Their blue optical lenses flash red for just the briefest of moments before they turn to look at you. And you see it before it happens, but you’re powerless to stop it as they surge toward you. As the physical force of the drones presses into you, you find yourself pushed further and further down the tunnel, toward the entrance; the exterior door of the tower.

Your body is pushed into the metal and you can feel your lungs burn as the weight settles against them and you can’t even let out a scream of rage before the door caves around you and you begin to freefall - with a hundred Legion members flying after you.

Like a swarm, the white-colored bots zoom past, surrounding you, crushing you, as you fall to the ground like a lead weight. The floors of the tower zoom past on your right, and you’re bracing yourself for impact as the air rushes up past you, and people begin screaming.

Your body lands with a sickening aftershock, caving through the pavement and the dirt, deep past the sewers, into the underground tunnel of the subway system.

For a few, terrifying moments, your head swims - your vision blurred and your heart beating out of your chest. Each and every extremity aches in a way that isn’t even describable. But, as the breath slowly releases from your weary lungs, you blink at the overhead halo of sunlight beaming down upon your prone form on the tracks.

And then, you sit up.

Pain eases from your back as you press up onto your knees, bits of gravel falling off your skin, before moving to your feet.

A roar, feral and animalistic shoots out from your throat as you call forward your weaponry and leap out of the massive hole that had been burrowed into the Earth.

The street is in pure chaos when you land on the sidewalk. Above you, the tower’s circled by a smoke plume. Someone crashes into you, and you try to righten to the woman, but she’s in such a state of panic that she just scrambles to her feet and continues running.

And that’s when, above the screams and the sirens, you hear the sound of creaking metal.

You take a step back, then another, and another.

Stark Tower is ablaze, a massive hole torn from the side of the structure where the bots had escaped. But the broken windows have flames billowing out of them like dragon’s breath. And nothing short of pure horror coats your body as you realize that it is happening again.

With fear powering you forward, you go running for the entrance to the building where hundreds of employees and agents are quickly exiting the doors of. The lobby is in shambles like a gunfight had taken place - where one very likely took place. But you push past the crowds of scared humans and make for the stairs.

But those too are crowded, nearly impassible.

Now, stuck with the realization of what was to come, you do all that you can do.

“Come on, this way! Hurry,” you call out, directing the flow of traffic. As the upper floors begin to creak and whine.

“What the hell?”

Steve, having had a few minutes to pull himself together, glances up from his place next to Natasha, as Tony’s confused voice reaches his ears.

He gives the assassin a reassuring pat on the shoulder before he stands and makes his way over to the billionaire.

The supersoldier doesn’t see it at first, but then they clear another cloud, and Steve’s eyes spot the massive plume of blackened smoke rising high above the Manhattan skyline.

“Can’t get through to Hill,” Tony bites, jamming his finger on button after button.

“Holy shit,” Clint gawks, peering over the console alongside them.

The jet soars past the buildings of the Lower East Side. News helicopters are circling the area, and Steve has a concerning feeling settling in his chest as he realizes what building is currently ablaze.

“I leave for two minutes,” Tony clips, eyes glued on the sight in front of them as the quinjet grows closer. And then he presses further forward, “Was that…? Barton, did I just see - ”

The archer nods, “Yeah, man. That was definitely one of your Legion guys.”

Steve pushes closer, twisting his neck slightly to look out the same direction as Clint. And, sure enough, he spots it in the sky. Two, no - three, bots residing on the roof of a building near the Tower.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Tony intones, disbelief clouding his words. “See if I ever leave Hill in charge again.”

But the humor drops like an enemy shell as they all watch in horror as the smoke begins to emit from the lower levels of the tower, breaking through several floors of windows before the top half starts to sag.

“No, no, no, no,” Tony begins chanting as he pushes the throttle forward, nearly sending Clint and Steve tumbling backward. “THOR,” he roars back. “Do something useful!”

The god in question raises an arched brow before he heads toward the opening ramp of the jet, hammer in hand. But they all know, especially at that moment, that there is nothing even Thor can do to stop the crumbling building from falling.

And so, the three of them stare as the upper levels of the tower begin to sink down upon the lower levels.

The street is little more than brown ash and rubble as you push the pile of concrete from your back. You can hear the screams already ringing out for help, and your chest is in your throat because you remember this exact moment, but you were completely useless to prevent this.

And so, you begin to hobble across the destroyed ruins of the tower, following after the voices of terrified civilians. You had nearly evacuated everyone when the building began to crumble down upon itself. You had even seen a white-haired boy zip past with a masked man before everything went dark; he had stopped briefly to give you a dainty wave before they disappeared in a flash into the crowd.

There were two others with you in the stairwell when everything came down. You had used your shield and your own strength to protect them. And, bless the gods, it had been enough. But the fates of Sam and Maria were still a mystery to you. You could only hope and pray that they had made their way out somehow.

“I got you,” you call out as you locate a woman whose leg has been pinched by a sheet of glass. Blood stains the debris-ridden street around her and you know, that even by human standards, it would be a miracle if she didn’t pass from blood loss in the next minute.

But you lean down and hold her hand in one tight grip as you begin to survey the damage.

“I can assist.”

Your eyes widen as a Legion bot appears. The immediate instinct is the deck the creature in its artificial voicebox. But you resist.

And instead, give a defeated, “Okay.”

The drone holds out its hand, freezing the wound before it successfully pulls the glass from her body. You hold her hand as she lets out a gut-wrenching scream.

An AI voice speaks over the sound of terror, “Coordination with EMS and FDNY in progress. Proceed to Grand Central Station…”

You give a weary nod at the robot as you back up, allowing the woman to be lifted up by the drone who then carries her away. Watching them go, your gaze lingers for just a moment longer, before the screams return to your ears, and your body moves back into motion.

Through the damage and the broken pillars of Stark Tower, you find others. All are being attended to by Legion bots.

“This is madness.”

Thor touches down beside you, a troubling furrow to his brow as he surveys the damage.

“They are not to be trusted.”

You gesture at the one nearest the two of you, one that is applying a tourniquet to a man in a suit, “They’re helping.”

“Are they?”

“What would you have us do here? Fight them?”

Just then, a bot walks directly in front of you, its visual optics are glowing neon red.

“Perhaps, Athena Parthenos, you should.”

It shoots you, point blank, in the chest.

Thor roars, slamming his hammer down upon the bot’s head.

You lift your head from the street where you’ve been shot back, “Thor! Don’t engage them - ”

But he’s already turned to the next available Legion bot, eyes glowing a terrifying blue as he hollers, “I will tear you limb from limb!”

You’re on your feet in a second, sword to his throat.

“And I will knock you into unconsciousness if you even think of laying a hand upon them.”

He turns, eyes blazing with fury as he stares down at you. You drop your sword to your side.

“What madness has befallen you? Have you not seen what they have done? What they are capable of?”

“All I see is a man set on vengeance.”

“I am no mere man.”

He brushes past you, hammer held aloft.

“Thor, please. Don’t make me - ”

But he just shakes his head, as if disgusted by your very presence, and lifts off from the ground. You can see the flapping red cape that drags behind him as he soars down the street. His hammer clobbers three Legion bots, and a dark cloud looms over him, as he lands - ready to fight.

With a long-suffering sigh, you survey the people around you. Everyone who appears to be injured is being attended to.

Having no other choice, you take off down the street - jumping over every obstacle in your way. While your heart seemed to ache with the position you were being placed in, you knew what you had to do.

They’re unable to land the jet. Instead, they circle the area, watching on as more and more drones flood the cityscape. Tony still can’t get into contact with Hill and is instead trying to get through to someone at SHIELD, which is also proving to be a fruitless endeavor.

Behind him, Bruce is still knocked clean out and Natasha only now seems to be coming back to her senses. Though she’s still in no fit state to do much of anything. And even Steve can feel the hesitation in Barton as his eyes flicker between the chaotic streets and the spy.

“Just one thing after the fucking next,” Tony mutters, dialing another set of numbers into his phone.

And they’re just sitting up here, doing nothing as more robots dive down into the city and people are probably stuck under rubble and injured and Steve can feel that impatience rising like a rocket in his chest and he needs to do something before he jumps out of the damn jet himself and -

“You’ve got to be shitting me.”

At that, he glances back over at Tony.

“If the world could just stop falling to pieces for one goddamn second!”

“What is it?”

“Well, ignoring the mass panic happening down below, and the likely high number of casualties, and the possible murder bots running rampant, we currently have two mythical beings trying to rip each other’s heads off down on Fifth Avenue.”

Tony turns in his seat, hands folded in his lap as if presenting this news to Steve brought him only further frustration. Like an exhausted principal faced with his most unruly students.

Steve blinks.

“What?”

But then he sees the storm clouds looming closer and shocks of lightning lighting up across the sky and he just knows, in an instant, that what Tony is referring to is truly a worst-case scenario.

The billionaire stands with a sigh, slapping the back of Steve’s shoulder as he passes.

“Come on, Cap. We’re tapping in.”

He turns, watching as Tony summons his suit. Before the face mask can fall into place, he fixes the supersoldier with a tired look, “Too bad I used up Veronica, huh? Hey, Legolas, take the controls. Try not to shoot any smoldering buildings while you’re at it.”

Clint gives a little salute as he situates himself into the seat Tony had just vacated, appearing slightly pale himself.

He looks on at his shield, an object that seems heavier now than ever as he follows Tony off the ramp - soaring down to the city streets together.

They’re about a block off, but Tony flies past him, leaving Steve to jog after him. He has to ignore the lost-looking civilians, covered in soot and debris, crying out for help - for him to help. Because he’s already faced Ultron and a mutant today and the amount of destruction that caused the five of them was more than enough. The last thing they needed was for you and Thor to eviscerate the damn city in the aftermath.

“Whoa!”

You crash into a row of garbage cans next to him, having been thrown several yards by the shock of violent lightning. He’s bending down in an instant to help you up, but you push past him, blinders on and oblivious to everything else around you.

“Will you just listen to me!” you roar, jumping up high above both him and the lamp posts as you throw your spear at the Asgardian.

Tony takes the hit, blocking the weapon with his arm.

“Okay, time-fucking-out!”

Thor zooms past him, knocking Tony to the side as he collides with you in mid-air. His hand wraps itself into your hair and pulls back hard enough to make you scream as you knock your head right into his.

As if snapping out of a daze, Steve throws his shield up at Thor - knocking into the God’s side and making him release his hold on you. He goes careening to the street, body slamming into the debris-ridden ground multiple times before he slumps into a heap about a block away from the three of you.

You drop down just a few feet from the supersoldier. Doubled over, ragged breaths being pulled violently inward as you summon your dory back to your side.

“Stay out of this,” you warn.

Steve moves forward, tugging on your forearm, forcing you to look at him.

“This isn’t the way.”

Your expression darkens, “He’s trying to destroy the bots, even the ones assisting the injured!”

“And you’re doing what, exactly?”

Tony hovers above you, dropping down a few feet with his thrusters.

“Actively destroying the city over a pissing match? Sound familiar, right?”

God, the forest in Germany. That seemed like a lifetime ago now. And here Tony was, throwing your own words right back at you.

They seem to work, however, as shame clouds your features. Dipping your chin down, you utter, “I wasn’t even… Cronus, I wasn’t even thinking - ”

“Hey,” Steve chides, voice going soft as he draws his hand down your arm just to slip it into your left hand. “We’ve been through a lot, but we need to stop this before someone else gets hurt.”

Your eyes are nearly brimming with tears when you dare to look up at him and his heart fucking aches seeing such blatant emotion on your face. But you nod, quickly looking up to Tony.

“We need to regroup. We’re no good here right now.”

“Yup,” he immediately agrees.

Thor is sauntering closer, looking ready for another bout.

“I know a place, but we need to calm him down before anyone goes anywhere.”

You turn away from the towering blonde then, moving further down the street, toward the ruins of the smoldering tower, leaving Steve and Tony to verbally subdue the God of Thunder.

It takes several minutes, the majority of which Thor looks like he’s ready to stalk off after you, or worse yet, take his anger out on one of the nearby drones. But Steve spots a journalist over Thor’s shoulder and Tony instantly guides them toward the jet - still hovering above the city.

You’re aboard, sitting beside Natasha. Your weapons are gone and your face is ashen. And, as Steve approaches with his helmet in hand, he can only make out the fact that you’re both quietly conversing in Russian to avoid anyone else overhearing - even him.

“Okay,” Tony settles back into the pilot’s seat.

Thor stays near the back of the quinjet, purposefully avoiding the rest of the team as he paces, anger clear as day on his face.

“Where to, Double-O?”

You pause, looking up, narrowly avoiding Steve’s eyes. But they meet all the same, and god, he just wants to hug you right now. Because you’re locked in your own suffering and he’s still haunted by the visions swimming in his mind. But you gently brush past him to speak to Tony.

“Here,” you say, leaning down to set the coordinates yourself. “We’ll be out of the city, off-grid.”

“Can’t ask for much better right now, can we?” he sighs, flicking the autopilot into gear.

You remain by the controls, watching as the city zooms past.

As they escape; as they disappear. Leaving a city in ruins, Steve tries to reset his thinking, but even then, he knows they might be making a massive mistake.

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#steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x reader #marvel fan fic #series: shameless wonder #my fic

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