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literaryavenger · 5 months

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Captain America: Civil War

Summary: When on a mission in Lagos things don't go as you expected, Secretary Ross offers the team a solution.

Pairing: Platonic!Avengers x F!Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of violence. Language. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 3K

A/N: It's only half of January and I've already been sick, great! Anyway, basically all the other parts of this story were queued and ready to go, so I got some time to rest but now I'm here writing with a fever! So, if anything doesn't make sense or I missed some mistakes, that's why. Enjoy!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

After months of tracking down Rumlow, you finally have a chance to get him once and for all.

You’re in Lagos, sitting at a cafe.

“All right, what do you see?” Steve’s voice comes in your ear. You know he’s talking to Wanda, she’s still learning how to be an Avenger.

“Standard beat cops,” she looks around her. “Small station. Quiet street. It’s a good target.”

“There’s an ATM in the south corner, which means…” he trails off letting Wanda finish his sentence.

“Cameras.” she promptly says.

“Both cross streets are one way.” Steve keeps going.

“So compromised escape routes.” Wanda reasons.

“Means our guy doesn't care about being seen, he isn't afraid to make a mess on the way out.” Steve says, “You see that Range Rover halfway up the block?”

“Yeah, the red one?” she asks “It’s cute.”

“It's also bulletproof,” you discreetly point out ”which means private security, which means more guns, which means more headaches for somebody. Probably us.”

“You guys know I can move things with my mind, right?” she says and you smirk.

“Looking over your shoulder needs to become second nature.” Natasha answers from a few tables away.

“Anybody ever tell you you're a little paranoid?” you hear Sam ask and try hard to contain your laughter.

“Not to my face. Why? Did you hear something?” Natasha says and you can see her smirking.

“Eyes on target, folks. This is the best lead we've had on Rumlow in six months. I don't want to lose him.” Steve says in our comms.

“If he sees us coming that won't be a problem.” Sam says.

“Yeah, he kind of hates us.” you add.

There’s a minute of silence as you all keep an eye on your surroundings, then you hear Steve’s voice again. “Sam, see that garbage truck? Tag it.”

You turn around just in time to see Redwing flying under it to scan the truck.

“Give me X-ray.” Sam orders the drone. “That truck’s loaded for max weight. And the driver’s armed.”

“It’s a battering ram.” Natasha says and your eyes widen a little.

“Go now!” Steve says and before the words are even out of his mouth you’re moving.

“What?” Wanda asks confused.

“He’s not hitting the police.” you say and then you’re all running in the truck’s direction.

Steve and his supersoldier ass get there first, then Sam and Wanda who can fly, while you and Nat are stuck driving your motorcycles as fast as you can, but can still hear the conversation through the comms.

“Body armor, AR-15's.” Steve says “I make seven hostiles.”

You hear some gun fire and then Sam “I make five.”

“Sam.”- Wanda says and, after a few seconds, Sam again “Four.”

“Rumlow’s on the third floor.” Sam says, then Steve says in his Captain voice “Wanda, just like we practiced.”

“What about the gas?”-you hear her ask.

“Get it out.” he orders. You can see the green and red whirlpool from the street.

“Rumlow has a biological weapon.” Steve after a few minutes, just as you and Natasha get there.

“We’re on it.” she says and basically jumps off her motorcycle and it skids into an agent.

You make a sharp turn and come to a sudden stop in front of an agent on your right side, so you push your left leg off the bike and, twisting your body, you kick the guy hard on the stomach while also dismounting the motorcycle.

When you turn around Nat cocks her eyebrow at you and you shrug. “What? I’m not throwing my bike at these assholes.” she rolls her eyes at you as you two keep taking out soldiers.

You can see Nat getting dragged by Rumlow, but you’re too busy fighting off some agents to help her. You vaguely hear him saying ‘I don't work like that no more’ and frown, you manage to take out the last one around you and, just as you turn, you see Rumlow launch a grenade into the truck and say “Fire in the hole.”

You run towards it, knowing Natasha’s probably in it, but it explodes before you can get close and do anything, the door flying and Natasha falling out of it coughing.

Once you’re sure she’s okay, you turn around but Rumlow’s already gone.

“Sam. He's in an AFV heading north.” you hear Steve say and, sharing a nod with Natasha, you get back onto your bikes and run to catch up with the truck.

“I got six, they're splitting up.” Sam says just as you and Natasha get to where they ditched the truck.

Natasha jumps onto a car and then another and you follow her. “I got the two on the left.” she says.

“I got the middle!” you say and start your pursuit.

“They ditched their gear. It's a shell game now.” you hear Steve say as you run after your two guys. “One of them has the payload.”

Just as you manage to catch up to your guys and knock one of them out, you can hear Sam saying “He doesn't have it. I’m empty.”

You quickly take down the other guy and search through them. “I struck out, too.”

Then you hear Natasha say “Payload secure.” and you allow yourself to relax.

“Thanks, Sam.” She adds.

“Don't thank me.” he answers and you frown, confused as you start making your way back.

“I’m… not thanking that thing.” is all Natasha needs to say for you to understand, and you roll your eyes.

“His name is Redwing.” Sam corrects her.

“I'm still not thanking it.” she says.

“He's cute. Go ahead, pet him.” he says and you can’t help but laugh.

Your amusement is cut short as you hear Steve’s grunts, clearly still in a fight and you try to move faster to make your way to him.

You catch up right after Wanda, just as Rumlow says “And you're coming with me.” and activates the bomb vest he’s wearing.

You don’t have time to even try and cover yourself as Wanda keeps the blast contained in a ball around Rumlow, his screams the only thing that can be heard.

She launches him in the air and the ball of energy explodes too close to the building next to it, setting a couple of floors on fire.

As you all watch in horror, you barely register Steve asking Sam for Fire and Rescue as you put your hands on Wanda’s shoulders and turn her away from the building. You let her rest her head on your shoulder as she starts crying, your own shocked attention still on the building.

This is not good.

It’s been a rough couple of days for the team after the mission in Lagos.

You’re all back at the compound now, and you’re on your way to the conference room to wait there for Tony when you pass Wanda’s room and hear her talking to Steve.

“Rumlow said ‘Bucky’ and… all of a sudden I was a 16-year-old kid again, in Brooklyn.” Steve pauses “And people died. It's on me.”

“It's on both of us.” Wanda counters.

“This job…” Steve starts “we try to save as many people as we can. Sometimes that doesn't mean everybody. But if we can't find a way to live with that, next time… maybe nobody gets saved.”

You see Vision approach and keep walking to make your way to the conference room, exchanging a knowing nod with him.

When you get there you’re a little startled to see The Secretary of State, but you sit down at the table in silence.

Once everyone gets there, Steve sits at the head of table, to his left Sam, then Vision and then Wanda, to his right you then Natasha, then Rhodey and Tony is sitting in a chair by himself to the right of the table.

Secretary Ross is on his feet in front of the table and, once everyone takes a seat, he starts talking.

“Five years ago, I had a heart attack. I dropped right in the middle of my back-swing. Turned out it was the best round of my life, because after 13 hours of surgery and a triple bypass… I found something 40 years in the Army had never taught me: Perspective. The world owes the Avengers an unpayable debt. You have fought for us, protected us, risked your lives… but while a great many people see you as heroes, there are some… who would prefer the word ‘vigilantes’”

“And what word would you use, Mr. Secretary?” Natasha asks.

“How about ‘dangerous’?” Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Definitely not the word you were expecting “What would you call a group of US-based, enhanced individuals who routinely ignore sovereign borders and inflict their will wherever they choose and who, frankly, seem unconcerned about what they leave behind?”

Ross activates a screen behind him and News footage from past Avengers and SHIELD matters flash on the screen as he speaks.

“New York.” A Chitauri leviathan. Terrified citizens. A soldier firing a gun. The Hulk smashes into a building and sends a dust cloud that engulfs the camera. Rhodey looks regretful and he glances behind him at Natasha.

“Washington DC.” The three Insight helicarriers, firing on each other. The destroyed Triskelion. A helicarrier crashing into the Potomac and throwing up a massive wave, engulfing citizens and the camera. You and Sam look at each other, then down.

“Sokovia.” Terrified citizens, running. The city rising. A building falling over. Everyone’s eyes are glued to the screen.

“Lagos.” The burning building. Paramedics moving a body. A dead girl. Wanda is particularly affected by the footage from Lagos. Steve sees this and intervenes.

“Okay. That's enough.” Steve says, looking at Wanda.

Secretary Ross nods to his aide and the images disappear, then he starts talking again.

“For the past four years, you've operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That's an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate. But I think we have a solution.” he places a thick document on the desk and passes it to Wanda. She looks at it and then slides it over to Rhodey. “The Sokovia Accords. Approved by 117 countries… it states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization. Instead, they'll operate under the supervision of a United Nations panel, only when and if that panel deems it necessary.”

“The Avengers were formed to make the world a safer place.” Steve points out. “I feel we've done that.”

“Tell me, Captain, do you know where Thor and Banner are right now?” Steve looks up and meets Ross's eyes. “If I misplaced a couple of 30 megaton nukes… you can bet there'd be consequences.”

You narrow your eyes at him. They’re people, not weapons. Before you can voice your thoughts he goes on. “Compromise. Reassurance. That's how the world works. Believe me, this is the middle ground.” He points at the Accords.

“So, there are contingencies.” Rhodey says, familiar with the politics by now.

“Three days from now, the UN meets in Vienna to ratify the Accords.” Steve glances at Tony “Talk it over.”

He starts to walk away when you speak up for the first time. “And if we come to a decision you don't like?”

Ross stops and looks back at you. “Then you retire.” he deadpans.

You simply nod, trying to stifle a grin and, when you look at Natasha, you can see she’s doing the same.

He leaves with his aide and there’s a moment of silence before you all get up and walk quietly to the common room. Some sitting, some standing and Tony laying down on a chair. And then the discussion starts.

“Secretary Ross has a Congressional Medal of Honor, which is one more than you have.” Rhodey says to sam. You’ve lost track of how long the team has been discussing.

“So let's say we agree to this thing. How long is it gonna be before they LoJack us like a bunch of common criminals?”

“117 countries want to sign this. 117, Sam,” He leans in to look at Sam since you’re currently between the two men. “and you're just like, ‘No, that's cool. We got it.’”

“Why am I always in the middle of this?” you say, a little exasperated at the two that are almost glaring at each other now, you make eye contact with Nat and she clearly feels the same way you do.

“How long are you going to play both sides?” Sam says, ignoring your comment.

“I have an equation.” Vision jumps in and everyone looks at him.

“Oh, this will clear it up.” you say sarcastically and cross your arms in front of your chest.

“In the eight years since Mr. Stark announced himself as Iron Man, the number of known enhanced persons has grown exponentially. And during the same period, the number of potentially world-ending events has risen at a commensurate rate.” Vision explains.

“Are you saying it's our fault?” Steve asks.

“I'm saying there may be a causality.” Vision clarifies, before going on “Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict… breeds catastrophe. Oversight… oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand.”

“Boom.” Rhodey says and you roll your eyes while Sam glares at him.

“Tony. You are being uncharacteristically non-hyper-verbal.” Natasha points out.

“It's because he's already made up his mind.” Steve says.

“Boy, you know me so well.” Tony says sarcastically and gets up, rubbing his head. “Actually, I'm nursing an electromagnetic headache.”

He walks to the kitchen and grabs a mug before continuing. “That's what's going on, Cap. It's just pain. It's discomfort- Who's putting coffee grounds in the disposal? Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?”

He puts his phone in a basket and taps it, the phone projects an image of a smiling young man. He looks down, then back up, and pretends to notice the picture for the first time. “Oh, that's Charles Spencer, by the way. He's a great kid. Computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA. Had a floor level gig at Intel planned for the fall. But first, he wanted to put a few miles on his soul, before he parked it behind a desk. See the world. Maybe be of service. Charlie didn't want to go to Vegas or Fort Lauderdale, which is what I would do. He didn't go to Paris or Amsterdam, which sounds fun. He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the poor. Guess where, Sokovia.” Everyone is listening to him intently as he seems to be having a little meltdown, but his words are clearly affecting the whole team.

“He wanted to make a difference, I suppose. I mean, we won't know because we dropped a building on him while we were kicking ass.” He pauses and takes a pill with some coffee, then faces you all. “There's no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes, I'm game. If we can't accept limitations, if we're boundary-less, we're no better than the bad guys.”

“Tony, someone dies on your watch, you don't give up.” Steve says.

“Who said we're giving up?” Tony promptly answers.

“We are if we're not taking responsibility for our actions.” Steve counters. “This document just shifts the blame.”

“I'm sorry. Steve. That- that is dangerously arrogant.” Rhodey says. “This is the United Nations we're talking about. It's not the World Security Council, it's not SHIELD, it's not HYDRA.”

“No, but it's run by people with agendas, and agendas change.” you interject, seeing Steve’s point.

“That's good. That's why I'm here.” Tony says, pointing at you. “When I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands, I shut it down and stopped manufacturing.”

“Tony, you chose to do that.” you tell him, then Steve talks, nodding at you.

“She’s right. If we sign this, we surrender our right to choose. What if this panel sends us somewhere we don't think we should go? What if there is somewhere we need to go, and they don't let us? We may not be perfect, but the safest hands are still our own.” Steve says.

“If we don't do this now, it's gonna be done to us later.” Tony reasons. “That's the fact. That won't be pretty.”

“You're saying they'll come for me.” Wanda speaks up for the first time since this discussion started.

“We would protect you.” Vision says confidently.

“Could we?” you say and everyone looks at you, so you elaborate. “If we don’t sign this we’re criminals for even trying to keep her safe. If we do sign, it’ll be our job to come for her if we get ordered to.”

There’s a moment of silence while you all think about this, before Natasha speaks up. “Maybe Tony's right.”

You all look at her, surprised. “If we have one hand on the wheel, we can still steer. If we take it off-” she gets interrupted by Sam.

“Aren't you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?”

“He’s not wrong, Tasha.” You add.

“I'm just… I'm reading the terrain.” She explains. “We have made… some very public mistakes. We need to win their trust back.”

“Focus up.” Tony says and looks at Natasha, clearly amused. “I'm sorry, did I just mishear you or did you agree with me?” you roll your eyes.

“Oh, I want to take it back now.”

“No, no, no. You can't retract it. Thank you. Unprecedented. Okay, case closed--I win.”

They all start to talk over each other, but you’re focused on Steve’s phone that you can see over his shoulder since you’re standing right behind him. He gets a text that says ‘She’s gone. In her sleep.’ and you frown, watching Steve quickly get up.

“I have to go.” is all he says while dropping the Accords on the coffee table and, when he exits the room, you exchange a worried glance with Sam.

Requested taglist: @sapphirebarnes @aki-ham

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hueningshaped · 3 years

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★ comme des garçons | y.jh

▰ genre: some angst some fluff stupid stuff

▰ word count: 4.5k *sighs*

▰ synopsis / request #2: (btw anon deserves the world)

▰ possible warnings: vulgar language and a lot of insults and use of ‘stupid’ and ‘idiot’ and some blood and also this really sucks but let’s get into it

"Late again, are we?" Jeonghan crooned with a smirk.

"Shut the fuck up." You hissed in reply.

This was a common intersection of events, and for today, it was the greeting to one of your electives, to a class that you needed simply for the credit. Nestled in between two of your pals, Joshua and Jihoon, Jeonghan had a perfect view of all who walked in, including you. How you both shared the same group of friends was beyond your comprehension.

All you knew was that you hated Jeonghan, and he hated you.

"Well, well, well, you'd think we had a pair of cats in this class because of all the fights," Wonwoo commented from beside you, without looking up from his stack of notes. "It's getting bad."

You'd shoot him a scowl that you never had the pleasure of seeing him catch, or maybe he knew this and chose not to for this reason. This was an everyday thing, most people knew this. You stuck with an eye roll and decided to resume your day.

The others have made it their mission to reiterate to you that you can't hate him forever, but considering how long you have and everyday you have to fight with him, you insisted that they were wrong.

It wasn't even your fault to begin with. This years long dispute fazed your minds so completely that if you were both to try and hash things out from the initial moment, you would misremember things and another inevitable argument would insinuate.

All that was known that when you both first encountered the other, you were having a rough day and decided to keep your chin up and not explain yourself. New to assertiveness, you took the wrong way.

The establishment is that the two of you had shown up to a class that had been canceled. That fateful encounter was a little short of a full two years.

"Did you know that you're wearing your shirt backwards?" Jeonghan asked from beside you, knocking you out from the reality of reading the mini poster on the door. You turned to him, mouth ajar. Profanities circled the entirety of your unconscious as you turned to him and mustered the classiest, friendliest, least offended smile.

His expression left little room to think he could have possibly been genuine about it. Nor did his next comment.

"Your eyes are really red, too, and you're wearing two left shoes, too." His tone was unintelligible and once you saw that smile, your rage unsettled completely.

There was perhaps some more said: passive aggressive backhanded comments.

"Do you always state the obvious?" You probably asked. It must have been rude because why else would Jeonghan victimize himself.

"Are you kidding?" Maybe he said.

"Well, do you think I don't realize?"

"Well, there's a lot going on on you. It happens. I think you can relax."

"I don't even know who you are. Don't tell me what to do."

"Alright, alright. Jeez. For all that you're wearing and talking, you sure have a lot of pride and attitude, may I add."

The muscles of your neck tightened at his audacity. If only you knew that this would offer the first of many collisions of tension from him and your own body's hyperactivity.

With the lack of elaboratation, there was no way an argument and rivalry was not going to ensue. Once the argument and backhanded insults had been ping-ponged and the day had concluded to begin a brand new one, you did feel some remorse.

The next day, when class resumed to its usual course, you had fixed your appearance and made sure to whip up a nice statement that would blow over yesterday, so you could both laugh at it and move on, like adults. Despite your hopes, Jeonghan surrounded himself with friends he seemed to make out of thin air and gave you the filthiest smirk you could see when you walked in.

With the class' conclusion, you chose that moment to try and catch him before you went separate ways, but he was waiting for you outside.

"Looking sharp, huh, Y/N?" You furrowed your eyebrows. Why would he use your name just because he knew it?

"Yes, and what about it, Jeonghan?" You retorted already feeling your heart begin to fumble in its trigonometry and physics to maintain your rate.

"Anyway," you go, but he cut you off, scoffing and crossing his arms with a satisfied grin. "Why is everyone so inferior to you, huh? Am I talking to Dr. Superiority Complex? And cutting me off, too."

"Will you shut up, you prick!" You slapped a palm over your mouth too late and his own aloof eyes widened.

Everything else melted away into the timeline of your hatred for him. A professor overheard the very events of that day, knocking your grade down a few points. Soonyoung had encouraged you to take revenge on whoever was causing you trouble, which you did. Ever since then, it all remained the same. How you both never managed to move on from was beyond the two of you.

Since then, your soul has not known peace. Granted, the entanglement with the fiend that he was put you through much turmoil and moments that one could define as nothing other than consistent low points.

Bickering and exchanging banter had nestled into your very habits and schedule, even at your big age.

Neither of your friends liked it. If you asked Seungcheol, he'd say that it made him feel uneasy enough to not hang out with the two of you. The best boy in the world refused to enter the same room as you two.

Tonight, there was an arrangement to play Super Smash Bros on Josh's Switch. Evening came and your stroll to the apartment homes became a path directly into the night. Of course, the dark goaded you on to run, looking back this way and that. Leave it to you making the worst choices and pulling facades over them. You truly should have taken Wonwoo's offer to be picked up.

Instead of running into one of your many friends on the way over, it had to be your greatest enemy driving slowly beside you, chuckling and rolling his window down.

"I'd never pegged you for a scaredy-cat, you prideful, little thing." He laughed from the vehicle. It ran gently and with a robust shape, similarly to one that a rich, teenaged girl would be gifted with. You kept your chin high and gaze forward, trudging on with a frown burning across your lips. "Turning down Wonwoo's offer which would have saved you from this —"

With little thinking, you simply resolved to peering over at him and speaking in one breath of a "please piss off," and it made him laugh all the more.

The heightened scores of muscle in your neck and shoulders noticeably melted, despite the abyss of woods and trashy alleys between the apartment homes. His sickening cherubic eyes were trained on you; he would put it in all the work of guarding you, it seemed.

Right when a bridge was nearing, his miniature jabs came to a halt and he upped the notch by honking at you.

"What?" You shouted, face slack with exasperation.

"Get in the car, I'm serious! Idiot!" Jeonghan nodded emphatically.

After back and forths of deliberation, you groaned all the way into his car, which he locked and unlocked until you threatened to puncture his tires with your pen.

The change in atmosphere followed with your own feelings. A lilac air freshener looped around his Calico Critter car decor as the low a/c filtered the air. At this angle, Jeonghan felt different. You had forgotten to shut the door behind you as you were all too engrossed with reading the pad of his music shuffle queue. His sigh whisked you away from your reading to his eyes.

"You could at least use your head to have gotten us there already. Y/N, seriously, I come out here and reach out a hand to you. Everyday you surprise me: you're so full of pride and you forget everything. I always wait for you to pick a struggle, but I guess you just love choosing every single one, huh!" He enunciated with a flat laugh and you had to frown at that.

The next song of whatever his playlist consisted of queued up some song your heart yearned to follow along to, as if your heart it thousands of times before.

"Sounds a lot like you think you know me, asshole..." you muttered under your breath and crossed your arms, keen on either forgetting about the passenger door still ajar or adamant on not doing it yourself since Jeonghan seemed to enjoy doing whatever he did, which inevitably made your life terrible.

He scoffed aloud. In one motion, he moved his arm around the head of your seat to improve his view.

"Sure, I do. Like I know you're the most insufferable person I've ever met." He tossed a few glances to the door, hoping to continue his game, but you peered over whatever possible dust particles and intrigued moths flutter over his unmoving headlights.

"God, Jeonghan," you sighed, not watching his growing leer.

"God, Y/N," he imitated you with an exaggerated tone.

"Jackass, can I speak? I just... It's been years, I know that much, since you like to preach that I know nothing, but all this time, you act like you know me. Day one, you've talked to me so informally. You always act like you have some right to speak to me and to speak to me like I'm some written character. Is that all you want? Some stupid feud with someone you clearly hate and don't want? You don't know me! You never have and you never will. So, back off."

A readied smirk, typically loaded with a bombshell of a constantly prepared retort, was expected, but to your surprise, his cherubic silhouette expressed an emotion you couldn't quite put in words. His eyes dawdled across your features, every island of flesh but your own eyes.

Wordlessly, Jeonghan then reached over you and your seat to shut the door. He was practically nose to nose to you.

Not another word was spoken, even after you were settled in playing games.

You were nestled between Chan and the arm of the grand futon, fist underneath the suppleness of your cheek.

"Hey, Y/N," Chan whispered from beside you, and you simply nodded, eyes fixed on the screen. "What happened?"

At that, you furrowed your eyebrows and peered over at him.

"Huh?"

His eyes widened in a flash and he shook his head, nudging your arm.

"I just never thought I'd see the day where you and Jeonghan hyung aren't ripping each other's hair out. I was thinking maybe he had a premonition and decided to grow up, but then Seungkwan hyung told us all that he saw you in the car with hyung."

"So, is everyone wondering the same thing?" You asked just at a whisper and Minghao from the opposite side of the sofa yelled, "Yes!"

Wonwoo turned around from in front of you and chuckled, nodding as if he had been waiting for someone to say it.

"Well?" Seungkwan practically shouted from over the couch, standing with arms crossed over his blazer clad chest. "Aren't you two going to tell us what's going on?"

Whoever turned down the volume of the television, even going so far as to pause the game, would pay, but the ice of the awkward cooled off whatever misdirected anger you held.

"Absolutely not." Goosebumps bloomed at the realization that you and Jeonghan had spoken simultaneously.

The two of you made eye contact, silently bickering over how to deal with the situation.

"You know what," Joshua piped up from another sofa, stretching an arm out in mild effort. "I don't think we should question this weird fate tonight; we should be thankful they're civil and in the same room."

The night bled away into comments like that, even as you tried your best to move on, since it seemed to you that Jeonghan was adamant in doing so. You had no business approaching him about why you didn't wish to speak to the other, and clearly neither did he. However, with the racket everyone was making over you and him not constantly doing your thing was eating you up at such a frequency that you were hardly up for continuing the game.

By eleven at night, Seokmin wanted to bake cookies, and unfortunately you had a bad taste in your mouth. Your perception of Jeonghan had snapped within a few minutes and it was crashing down before your eyes. For what reason, you felt you'd never know.

You don't quite remember rising and throwing a few goodbyes, unable to meet their eyes while heading out in a much more informal fashion as you arrived. It could have easily been one of your other friends who followed after you but in this case, it was Jeonghan.

"Hey, numbskull, don't you want a ride back? I give you one here, and you just walk out?" He called from the door, shivering enough to cross his arms into his body. You didn't meet his eyes, merely angling your neck to listen.

"I called my other friend to pick me up," his silhouette buckled into the corner of your eye. "Really wasn't expecting you to follow me out like this."

The colors of his figure shifted and the door shut with a rap behind him.

"Is that really what you want?" Jeonghan's tone dropped with his approach.

"What are you talking about?" It was then that you took the moment to look at him. Jeonghan's face typically held a leer that looked like he always knew more than you, but now, there was a knot of taut muscle where his eyebrows met.

A shimmer of headlights filtered over the anterior of the apartment complex. Your friend-chauffeur had arrived.

"Nothing." He breathed with a smile that almost broke the ice of his expression, but you glanced to the floor before nodding.

"Well, my ride's here." Jeonghan swallowed a lump down and mirrored your action. Part of reality felt like a scene out of a movie because of the loose air of the night but the tension between the two of you was so tight. You turned towards your friend, whose gaze was transfixed to their phone, and when you glanced back, he disappeared.

For the throng of the week's courses, Jeonghan changed his seating arrangement, and no longer seeking explanations to waste yours or his time, you assimilated with the change. Utilizing the pack of independently reticent students as the backdrop, you and him took turns surrounding yourselves by them.

A part of you felt much relieved of the burden of keeping your guard up to such a severe form, which he visibly did, as well. You heard well enough from Soonyoung and Mingyu. An even larger piece of you thirsted for something that you couldn't quite put your finger on.

Since Seungcheol was home this week, to commemorate his return, considering he had a habit of leaving every other week due to sports, he and the crew decided to throw one of those stupid parties where you drink and just meet people. Essentially, the remote of his and Joshua's place flipped topsy turvy when it came to these things, but they didn't mind.

Jeonghan no longer mattered to you nor was he a factor of whenever you had to make a decision. You accepted Wonwoo's and Soonyoung's offer of going and taking you to the party.

It had been six days since you last interacted with Jeonghan, as you had for the past three years.

"Isn't it too early to be drinking? We aren't even there yet." Soonyoung patted you from the backseat, tone thick with distant concern.

Wonwoo eyed you from the driver's seat, hands fastened at the wheel. All you did was shrug, turning back to halfheartedly grin at the boy, and with that done, you continued your trip to finishing the bottle of absinthe in your hand.

Drinking was no new concept to you. Using it to quell some sort of absence that you didn't comprehend was, however. It was something your friends took notice of.

Your arrival was just as rocky as it was from your residence to the party, vision fuzzy and dim.You made your way to the kitchen to rummage through possible brought snacks, even taking a few spare soju and beer bottles for sport. Opening them with a partially working mind inked painful calluses into your hands from the rigid caps of the bottles.

As Seungkwan whistled at your actions, something wet caused you to lose grip of one bottle, tripping to catch it, and before you knew it, there was a minor crowd growing at the sight of your bloody palm.

As loud as everything was, a part of you countered with how silent your world had become since you and Jeonghan wordlessly had gone separate ways.

"Does it hurt?" Minghao asked. You were now at the dining room table, a foldable one with metal legs that were surprisingly still standing despite being kicked in countless times. You shook your head and met the faces of your friends, scanning them for something you didn't know. It barely stung, but a fire lit from behind your eyes.

Soonyoung slapped your arm, recounting to you for the fourth time that you were in a guest room because you cut yourself.

The bass of the music met with the wall across from you and pictured frames of your friends trembled. A couple made out in the corner, limbs sprawled. For the most part, the room changed colors due to the LED lighting, which did nothing to help an intoxicated mind.

"Are you sure?" You asked, doubting Soonyoung's sadly sober mind — he had been ordered not to drink for the night, but Jihoon had promised him that next time, for sure.

Half your hand was bandaged and your head hurt. Pain had nothing to do with it, or the lack thereof, but you still felt like weeping.

As if you had been summoning the devil himself, Jeonghan let himself in without a word, without much of an entrance really, but you knew enough that it was him because you could read the back of his head.

"What did you do?" The timbre of his voice recused the tense knots of your shoulders without your notice. You looked into his eyes. It strangely felt as it had been years since you had done so.

"Hyung, I earned my PHD, that's what I did. I bandaged Y/N here and — "

"Soonyoung," the elder used a tone you were familiar with, one your professors would use when notifying you and him to leave the class after a fight got out of hand.

"Well, Y/N, I'll be on my way then," he announced with a laugh. "Take care of my patient, Jeonghan hyung."

Mirrored glares and giggles were shared between the two until it was just the two of you.

"I was talking to you. What did you do?" He crossed his arms at you, frowning at the slightest. It looked weird on him. His brindled hair crowned his head with few loose ends curling like some flowers towards the sun.

"Hey," Jeonghan waved his hand in front of you, expression all the same. You watched his figure get painted in fuschia with the changing colors.

"What?" You remarked harshly. He sighed loudly and reached out a palm to you.

Perhaps you took too long deciding what he wanted for his liking for him to just grasp it, his firm hand enveloping yours in a way that made you feel as if you were hanging over a pile of hot coals. Jeonghan joined you on the sofa, scanning over Soonyoung's work in the dim lighting.

"You do know I'm studying to be a pediatric nurse, right?" His voice was so silent so it was a miracle you heard it.

"No, what the fuck..." you blurted, confused he was being so informative, about as much he had to be on the first days of any class.

"Well, since you learned something new today," he started, using that familiar tone and you almost smiled. "I need to know if you did this on purpose."

Your lips parted at that.

"I what?"

"You're the only idiot I've ever known to confidently do the illogical thing. I swear, you numbskull, I've gotten so used to telling you it may as well be a catch phrase of mine." He ran his nimble fingers over the lines of the rest of your palm before glancing back up to catch your stare.

"You're crying," the words fell out of his mouth and you expressed your surprise with a bewildered expression. "I..."

Now, this was new territory.

"It's nothing, I don't know why I'm doing that," you shrugged it off and sniffled, a confirmation of your tears.

He scoffed, sitting back and crossing his arms.

"Of course, you'd say something stupid like that!" Jeonghan nudged a plastic bag of napkins towards you, which you took with a grumble to wipe your tears.

"Oh, so it's only me capable of saying stupid things! How come you only hear yourself and think it's me with the idiotic stuff?"

"You calling me an idiot?" He emphasized with a pointed finger towards you and then himself. Life returned to Jeonghan's face in full force.

"Yeah, of course, I am. You're the one who's always running their mouth as if your life depends on it!" You practically screamed.

He grinned, pearly teeth aglow in the dim room before dropping his eyebrows.

"Y/N, you always talk crap about me. Can't you go one day without my name in your mouth? You know what, you should be addicted to shutting the fuck up."

You feigned an impressed surprise but rolled your eyes, almost laughing.

"Ooh you wanna kiss me so bad you don't even know it. Makes you look so stupid."

Jeonghan paused within a heartbeat before angling his head and smirking. You were ready for something equally as dumb as his comebacks, but he reached forward for your free hand and loosely caging you in the arm of the couch. His breath circulated near yours, just like that night in his stupidly cute car.

"And what if I do?" That smile and those words were like ice and fire to your every sense. It was you who actually was unprepared.

"That, wait, you, the-the, God!" You babbled and sputtered, unable to maintain eye contact. He chuckled thickly. Jeonghan was so close.

"That should be my line!" You retorted, all thought processes going haywire and scouring the plain of your mind for something wittier to say. His wicked smile widened.

"So, you do feel the same way?" You all but gasped at the audacity you met with.

"Yes! No, wait, uh, yeah! Never!" Jeonghan failed to stifle his genuine laughter and tossed his head back. "Fine!" You then reached up, taking the collar of his jacket into your curled fist and bringing his lips down to yours.

Judging by his widened eyes, he was not expecting that, but that mattered little. You melted along with it, shutting your eyes. In the next millisecond, he brought you forward with a hand behind your head and another keeping himself upright beside your body.

As everything was, the kisses progressed to a point where you attempted to outdo the other, passionate, quick exchanges building up to shared touches.

Your other hand gripped a portion of his clothes, pulling so nebulously he all but leaned closer towards you. As the other couple had left during the minutes of your petty argument, it literally felt like the moment was offered to the two of you only, no one else.

Jeonghan cheated when he gently tugged on your hair, earning a punched out whine from your lips. He pulled away from your swollen lips to hear it, grinning once you did so.

"You jerk," you muttered hotly, red and ruddy. He smiled and moved a few strands of hair behind your ear gently.

"Y/N, what if I've been wanting to do that for a long time?" He asked, voice a bit strained. You didn't know what to do with yourself, flustered and glancing around.

"Oh," you murmured. The heat practically beat off you in waves.

"You're something else, really. I wasn't sure how long we were going to not talk to the other. I wouldn't have been able to confess and it would have been awkward." He snickered over your shoulder before regaining his proximity with you.

"Wait, so is this your confession? You suck, you're going to have do it again. C minus." He scoffed and sighed at that.

"The kiss, too?" He arched an eyebrow curiously. You slapped his shoulder at that, struggling to keep up with him.

"No, but seriously are you telling me you like me?" A much more serious tone cooled the heat of the moment, and he winced at that.

"From the moment I met you," he began and it was then you realized your facial expression was bitingly skeptical, revealing your feelings about it all. "Do you feel the same way, Y/N?"

"All that teasing and picking on me was just your stupid way of letting me know you like me?" It was Jeonghan's turn to blush from every corner of skin to the other, sighing and covering his face to cope with whatever he felt.

"It took me a while to realize it, alright?!" His tone was defensive, but you knew he meant it lightheartedly. "I just wanted you to know somehow in some way that every time I got to see you, I was grateful. Each and every time allowed me to learn more about you because you're so...you're something else. You've always complained how I don't know you or perhaps the lack of right I have to know you, I always felt I did, but I didn't want it happening for the wrong reasons. Took me a while to realize I didn't want to lose you, that I...wanted a friendship, a relationship, but the longer I sat back and continued to confuse what we had and I wanted was just going to tear us completely. So, luckily, since I'm a genius, I thought to man up about it."

You could only peer at him, letting his words simmer.

"But, if that's not what you want, or you feel uncomfortable in any way at all, just say it. Say whatever you feel." You'd never encountered this gentle tone of his. There were so many more sides to him you wanted to learn.

"I want some time..." you muttered and he nodded, visibly hanging on to your words. "For you to show me that you want me, and you know, for me to process this. I've wanted you for a while, but that voice was so quiet under all the 'I've never wanted to fight someone so bad' and the 'I'm going to implode like a star because of this guy'." You both laughed at that, and it almost felt natural to do so.

"Okay, then," Jeonghan nodded with a contented smile. There went that annoyingly hot gaze of his. So, that’s what it’s always been: hot. "Can we still make out?”

You squinted at him and opened your arms up with a sigh.

“Just kiss me already!”

#seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #ill see myself out #svt imagines #svt scenarios #jeonghan #jeonghan angst #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan fluff #seventeen x reader #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan scenarios #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #wonwoo #mingyu #Seungcheol #scoups #seventeen

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 1. Back Into The Field

Intro: Picking up a few months on from the events of Stark Spangled Man, Katie finds herself on desk bound duty following a disciplinary for ignoring Fury’s orders. But when she’s finally released, and disaster strikes on the first mission she’s run in months, she kinda wishes she’d stayed there.

Warnings: Bad language, mentions of blood, injury, angst and a minor character death.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Katie Stark

A/N: So here we go. A relaunch of SSB thanks to my other blog being flagged. For those of you who are new, welcome! I hope you enjoy. And to all you current Stark Spangled Readers, welcome back, You might spot a few subtle differences as we go through, as things I’m not happy with have been rewritten but don’t worry, nothing will impact the mine lines in the hot mess that is Stark and Rogers.

As always, please leave your comments or send me messages, asks, anything. I love you all!

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

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

March 2013.

Any doctor would cry if they visited SHIELD; the caffeine and alcohol intake of pretty much every worker there would way exceed a dose construed to be healthy. Mind you, if you asked any agent whether they’d give up coffee or alcohol, they’d say alcohol in a heartbeat.

Well, most of them.

Katie couldn’t imagine surviving without an ice cold beer on a hot summer’s day, but she also didn’t function until she had her morning cup of Joe. It was a tough choice to make.

Not today though, she needed coffee. And lots of it. After ‘going rogue’ to chase the Mandarin with her brother, month’s later Fury was still pissed and as such was basically giving her the most boring thing he could think of- working through piles of mission reports to analyse and cross reference with others to pick up on common threads .To be honest, she didn’t mind it too much. After the excitement of the festive period she had welcomed a relatively quiet return to work, and didn’t particularly give a shit what Fury thought about her either.

She circling a part of the hard copy of the report she was working on with highlighter pen, before glancing back at her computer screen to cut and paste it into the Scrapbook App she used to trace trends with, letting out a groan. Who was she kidding? Desk duty sucked ass.

*****

Steve’s morning wasn’t going much better.

Whilst he wasn’t desk bound, after a particularly gruelling Ops Training session during which one of the newest kids suffered a broken nose after colliding painfully with a stray shock baton, he was almost wishing he was. Following a quick debrief, he checked his schedule on his phone and found he was free now for the rest of the day so he showered and headed up to find Katie. He found her in her office, paper in her hand as she stared at her computer screen, eyes narrowed. Steve watched her for a moment, taking in the way her nose crinkled as she read something, her bottom lip being dragged under her top teeth as she continued her work, completely unaware he was there. With a groan she dropped the notes she’d been holding to the desk and ran her hand through her dark hair.

Steve felt he was interrupting something, even though he knew he wasn’t, but he also didn’t want to appear like he’d been watching her either, which he totally had. So he gave a little cough and, as she turned round, her pretty face cracking into a smile which he returned.

“Hey! How was training?”

“Don’t ask.” He let out a snort.

“That bad huh?”

“In a fashion.” He nodded, leaning on the door frame. “You had lunch?”

“Nope.”

“Wanna come get some?”

She nodded instantly “God yes. Can we get FroYo after?”

“Yeah but don’t let me pile it with all that crap this time!” he shot her his best playfully disapproving look as he remembered his first trip the Frozen Yoghurt stall. He had loaded his with all sorts of different things and the result had been beyond foul.

Katie gave a laugh and picked up her jacket, shrugging it on. Standing up straight, he moved to allow her to step through the door and followed her to the elevator.

“Stick to chocolate chip, mint and cookie dough.” She said, stepping into it. “Trust me.”

They strode across the foyer and into the early spring sun. Katie pulled her jacket tighter around herself as they crossed the street, shivering a little in the cool breeze.

“How are you just wearing a shirt?” she looked at Steve as he fell into step besides her, making sure he was on the side nearest the road. He noticed that she’d long since given up chiding him on this old fashioned habit after he had revealed it was something he used to do for his mom too, and Bucky’s younger sister. In fact, today, he swore he saw something that looked like a soft smile flicker on her lips when he positioned himself on her left, but as quick as he noticed it, it was gone.

“It’s not too bad.” He grinned. “I’ve been through worse.” He opened the door to the Deli for her and followed her in as they took their place in the queue. After a moment or two he became aware that she was looking at him.

“What?” he asked, turning to her exasperatedly. Katie couldn’t help but grin, she enjoyed winding the usually mild mannered man up

“I’m trying to imagine how you would look with a beard. And with shorter hair.” she mused, causing the Captain to roll his eyes.

“Not gonna happen.”

“What the hair cut or the beard?”

“Neither.”

“Spoil sport.”

“Captain America doesn’t have a beard.” he shook his head.

“No but, Steve Rogers could…”

She was impossible, but Steve couldn’t help but want to laugh. This playfulness was the thing that he enjoyed the most, how she could just treat him like any other punk she knew.

“Did anyone ever tell you you’re exhausting?” he rolled his eyes, a smirk playing on his face as she stepped forward in the queue.

“Yeah, you.” she spun round to face him, grinning “Several times. But you still come back for more.”

“Well I have the distinct impression if I didn’t you’d hunt me down anyway”

They ordered and ate their lunch, Steve filling her in on the ops drill and after Fro-Yo they made arrangements to slob out that evening at his with a film. They walked back to the Triskellion where Katie headed back to her office to continue sifting through the Mount Everest of reports she had to do. As with anything, once she got the bit between her teeth, she completely zoned out. It was only when she heard a gabble of voices all bidding each other goodbye that she looked up from her work. It was dark outside, and past six.

“Shit.” she groaned as the realisation washed over her. She was supposed to be at Steve’s for half past. She clicked to save her work whilst calling him at the same time, phone sandwiched between her cheek and shoulder.

“So…I’m running late.” She apologised the instant he answered. He chuckled.

“I thought that you said the one good thing about being confined to desk duties was that you set the hours.”

“Yeah, well I got caught up in something, but I’m leaving now. Do you want me to grab pizza on the way?”

“Sounds good, not Chicago Style though. I’m hankering for a proper piece of pie.”

“God you’re such a New Yorker.” She rolled her eyes.

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.” His voice took on a mock hurt tone and she could imagine him pouting on the other end of the phone.

“Hmmm, I’m undecided. Right, I’m leaving now. See you soon.”

“Drive safe.”

“What are you my dad?” she snorted at his stern instruction.

“Old enough to be.” he shot back.

“Touche.” she sniggered, cutting the call

*******

“Boring New York style for Mr S Rogers…” she spoke into the intercom at the main door to Steve’s apartment complex and he buzzed her in. By the time she’d climbed the stairs to his floor he was waiting, leaning on the door frame.

“Bout time.” He muttered, taking the boxes off her “Was about to send a search party.”

“Mario’s was packed.” Katie said, kicking off her sneakers and heading straight through to his kitchen to grab a beer out of his fridge without waiting for him to offer, knowing he wouldn’t. He didn’t need to.

Steve headed into the living room, depositing the thee boxes on the coffee table before he sank onto the couch and reached straight in for one of the pepperoni slices. A few moments later Katie flopped down next to him, handing him a beer.

“What we ticking off the list tonight?” she asked.

“A Few Good Men.” he said, nodding at the TV where he had queued the movie up ready.

“Wait, did you manage to navigate that Android box all by yourself?” She looked at him and he sighed.

“I’m not completely useless ya know.”

“Jury’s out.” she teased, curling her legs up onto the sofa next to her.

They watched the movie. Steve got most of the references within it. He chuckled in the right places, and laughed out loud when Katie was unable to stop herself uttering the immortal line You can’t handle the truth. When the credits began to roll, Katie unfolded herself from where she had been sat and they launched into Steve’s favourite part of Movie Nights- the post film analysis.

“Who was the guy who played the colonel, Jessup?” he looked at her.

“Jack Nicholson. Amazing actor. He’s in a few on your list.”

“He was good. And I know he was supposed to be the good guy so to speak but Kaffee annoyed me a little. He was so arrogant.”

“He reminds me of Tony” Katie sniggered.

“Well, I didn’t want to say anything” Steve gave a little smirk and Katie shrugged.

“I get what you mean though. He is an ass, and it pisses me off a little the romance angle they take with him and Galloway. I mean, she’s portrayed as this strong woman, in the male dominated military woman and they still have to go there.”

“It does seem to be a tried and tested format.” Steve nodded, leaning back against the cushions on his couch “Boy meets girl, boy likes girl, boy wins girl over…even the movies I saw back in before I took a sub-zero nap were the same.”

“I suppose it appeals to the hopeless romantic in all of us.” Katie shrugged.

They continued to chat for a bit longer until Katie glanced at her watch, and seeing the time, decided to call it a night. Steve walked her down to her car, he always did without fail, another thing she had given up chiding him for and when he came back upstairs and got in the shower, he found himself straying back to the first time he had seen her, the minute she had stepped into the light in the boxing gym and he’d found himself looking into the greenest eyes he had ever seen in his life.

The more he stood there in the stream of hot water, thinking about her, the more he started to feel something…well…different. And he couldn’t put his finger on it. Was it that he found her attractive? Well of course he did. To be honest, he reckoned you’d have to be blind not to. And if he was totally honest, since he’d seen her the first time in that little boxing gym in New York he had noticed how pretty she was. She had the figure of the stars of his time. Hour glass waist, brunette hair, shapely ass and legs and quite large breasts considering she was so slim. But what did it for him were her eyes. Deep, sparkling emeralds that he could lose himself in quite happily. And that smile, that fucking smile that could make him stop in his tracks when she flashed it.

But it was more than just that, she was…well…just Katie.

It was strange, really, she reminded him so much of Peggy in some ways, but in others she was so different. Both were vivacious, smart, strong willed and beautiful. But where Peggy had been harsh, after a military upbringing, Katie had a softer edge to her. She was still ferocious at times, but she was a people person, and somehow knew exactly how to explain and understand what he was trying to say even when he struggled to himself. She made him feel at ease. With that in mind it wasn’t surprising they had grown so close. He could trust her and knew that she would do anything for him because she was a good person. And she made it so easy to be around, he didn’t feel a shred of awkwardness around her.

He hadn’t thought he’d ever find himself a friend he could be as honest and open with again, one he would happily lay his life on the line for, not just out of a sense of duty but out of a sense of love and friendship.

Who you trying to kid, Rogers?

He knew his feelings went deeper than that. All those times he’d felt irritation at other men looking at her or touching her, all those times he’d looked at her and just wanted to smile because she was just her… the fear he had felt when he had known she was off chasing the Mandarin and he wasn’t able to help…none of that was anything to do with mere friendship.

He leaned his forehead against the tiles of the shower cubicle and groaned. He was crushing on his best friend.

He was so fucked. *******

Katie’s desk arrest didn’t last much longer. Two weeks later she was catapulted back into the field, on what was supposed to be a simple op, simple by SHIELD standards, anyway. They had a request from the Cuban government – all very hush, hush, of course –to take down a drug lord who ran a cartel SHIELD had tangled with last year.

Katie, in her role as Mission Analyst, read the files and all the intel, pulled together a briefing and delivered it, answering questions that came her way from the team and then handed over to Steve when it was his turn to take the floor. He started issuing out his orders, and informed everyone that the three newest recruits would be joining them as it would be a fairly straight forward op to ease them into.

And it had been, for the most part, until one of those new recruits, Jack Adams, had frozen mid fire fight and as a consequence he’d taken three bullets to the chest. Which shouldn’t have been an issue given the armour they all wore. But when the man failed to get up, Katie knew there was something very, very wrong.

“Adams is down!” she loudly spoke into her radio as she took aim at the hostile responsible. As soon as she was sure the round she had let off had hit her target, she broke cover to get to Adams, as she was closest to him. She skidded to the floor, pressing her hand to his chest and her other reached to his face, turning it to look at her.

“I got you, Adams, look at me.” she urged gently, her hand warm, wet and slick with the young man’s blood. Steve dropped besides her and she turned to face him.

“Armour piercing rounds.” She shook her head. “Steve, I can’t stop the bleeding.” Her tone left the Captain in no doubt as to how worried she was and he looked around frantically for help.

“Medic, NOW! We need emergency evac…”

“Stay with us, Jack.” Katie reached into her belt and retrieved a tab of morphine as he young man’s hand gripped her other whilst she administered the pain relief.

“Son, you’re gonna be fine.” Steve spoke and Adams’ horrified eyes turned to Steve. The soldier swallowed, fighting to keep his face calm. He’d seen that expression so many times on the battle field, the one that told him the man who lay injured knew he was injured beyond repair, that there was nothing to be done for him. But this was now seventy years into the future, medical science had worked so many wonders since then, they had to be able to do something, right?

“RUMLOW WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT MEDIC?” Katie screamed, her tone frantic.

“Still got hostiles on us!” Rumlow replied over the coms. “Evans has taken four down but they’re approaching from the right! We need to cover the medics in and now you’re down there…”

Steve instantly looked round before he looked back at Katie “We’ll have to take him ourselves”

She bit her lip, looking at the young man, then up to Steve again. Everything in their training told them not to move casualties, but Steve knew if they stayed here he was going to bleed out. Katie seemed to come to the same conclusion and she nodded.

“Alright. Brock, we’re coming to you. Have the medics prep the bay on the jet.. Evans, we need top cover.”

“Roger, Cap…”

“Jack, we’re gonna move you now.” Katie looked at him, her voice calm and level as besides her, Steve moved to take the injured man into a lift over his shoulder. Once he had him positioned, he gave a small jerk of his head and Katie picked up his shield in one hand, and her pistol in the other as they broke cover, sprinting across the front of the industrial yard towards the jet. In the corner of his eye, Steve spotted two hostiles moving but before he could shout a warning, Katie had fired off two shots, the thumps and lack of returning fire meaning each bullet had hit its target. Soon they were joined by Rumlow and Rollins who flanked them up the ramp where Katie dropped Steve’s shield to the floor with a clang and offered her hand back to Adams as Steve placed him gently on the stretcher.

“It’s gonna be ok.” Katie soothed him as the medics bustled around, her eyes glancing up every so often to watch what they were doing.

“Can you tell my mom I love her and, and my dad.” Adams was mumbling now and Katie shook her head.

“You can tell them yourself.” She told him fiercely. “You’ll be fine, I promise.”

“We’re locked down outside, local authorities are handling it now.” Rumlow informed Steve who had stepped back from where Katie was knelt by the injured man. “How is he?”

Steve turned to Rumlow, shaking his head sadly. “Not good. He lost a lot of blood.”

At that point Katie suddenly drew back slightly, looking at the hand held in hers, before she glanced at the medic who was sadly shaking his head. Katie’s shoulders slumped as her eyes closed, face screwing up into a pained expression and Steve pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and middle finger as he realised that the young man had lost his final fight.

“Shit.” Rumlow muttered.

“Radio base” Steve turned to Rumlow his voice soft “Let’s get him home.”

*******

Writing mission reports wasn’t Katie’s favourite thing to do, but this one was awful. So she’d treated it like ripping off a band aid, and after a horrific night’s sleep, she’d been at the Triskelion early to get it done. As a result it was little after ten am, she was done for the day and was about to head home until she heard a familiar voice.

“Eat me…eat me…” The voice was accompanied by a bag from her favourite bakery, which was hovering in the space between the door to the office and the frame, before Clint Barton’s head poked round the side, a grin plastered on his face.

“Hey!” She beamed at her friend as he dropped a cup holder containing two coffees and the bag onto her desk before taking a seat, scooting the wheeled chair over the floor towards her.

“Heard you had a rough time of it yesterday so I brought donuts and almond croissants. And coffee.”

“Hawkeye, you are a godsend.” Katie smiled, taking a large drink and leaning back, closing her eyes.

“That the first time you’ve lost a man on a mission?” Clint asked.

“Other than Coulson.” she shrugged. “Shit, Adams was twenty-three Clint. He had his whole life ahead of him.”

Clint watched as she rubbed at her temple before reaching into the bag and pulling out an almond croissant. She couldn’t remember when she had last eaten, it must have at least been before the mission.

“How’s Cap taken it?”

“On the outside he seems okay, but I know he blames himself. Keeps saying he shouldn’t have taken him.” Katie shrugged “He’s gone with Fury to see Adams’ parents. Rather him than me.”

“This job is hard.” Clint said after a moment or two pause. “We fight to keep everyone safe, but y’know, sometimes not everyone makes it. Thing is, if we can’t find a way to deal with that, then maybe next time no one gets saved at all.”

“You mean like Collateral damage?” she snorted, shaking her head.

“No, I mean that everyone one of us that are out in the field know the risks Nova, hell last year 7 of us took on a horde of Aliens in New York. For hours we fought them, and did any of us give a second thought to our own safety? No, because that’s what we do.”

His words made sense. She knew they did, but that didn’t stop the feeling in her stomach that if she had done her research more, maybe she could have spotted something that would have told them about the armour piercing rounds.

*******

Adams’ parents already knew he was dead. Fury had the local authorities call ahead, common practice now, but still, Steve found himself sat on their couch, talking, informing them all about their son’s last moments. They hadn’t shouted, hadn’t screamed or blamed him. Instead, they’d thanked him for what he had done and for bringing him back so they could hold a proper burial.

By the time he got back to base, he was exhausted.

“Here.” Fury handed him a glass of scotch from the bottle he had pulled out of his desk. Steve took it, dropping onto one of the sofas at the side of the large office, Fury settling into the other. Steve knew the drink couldn’t get him drunk, but he liked the momentary buzz he got that lasted all of sixty seconds post sip, and the comforting burn it gave when he swallowed.

The pair of them sat in silence for a few moments before Fury sat forward, his eye fixed on Steve.

“Ever done that before, a death message?” he asked.

“Can’t say I have. Wasn’t really my job back in the day.” Steve shrugged, undoing his tie and popping the top button of his dress shirt.

“Worst part of the job. Doesn’t matter how many times you do it, never gets any easier.” Fury ran his hand over his face, and it struck Steve how tired his boss actually looked.

“Yeah, it isn’t exactly up there with my favourite thing to do.” Steve rolled his tie up and shoved it into the pocket of his old Army uniform pants.

“How’s Nova?” Fury asked.

“She’s upset.” Steve sighed “But she’s strong, she’ll be okay. I’m gonna head over and see how she is later.”

“You two spend a lot of time together outside of work.” Fury commented, innocently enough but there was something in his tone, something that was almost good natured accusation.

“Not a problem is it, Sir?” Steve asked, keeping his face straight.

“No, not at all.” Fury said “Why do you think I partnered you up in the first place? She’s a people person…”

“She’s a good friend.” Steve nodded “We get on.”

“Glad to hear it.” Fury nodded. There was another moment’s pause before he spoke again. “There’s going to be a debrief with the Secretary of Defense tomorrow.”

Steve sighed “If they’re looking to blame someone, the buck stops with me. I should never have taken the kid.”

“Bullshit.” Fury said simply “I’ve read the reports. From what they say, he just froze.”

“He wasn’t experienced enough.”

“Taking risks is part of this job. It’s a dangerous gig.” Fury held his gaze. “It was a straight forward in and out job Captain. What happened was an accident. A tragic one, but an accident none the less. From the reports, neither you nor Stark could have done any more to save his life.”

Steve shrugged, the words were kind but didn’t help him feel any better.

Three glasses of scotch later, Steve shook the director’s hand and left the office, pulling out his phone. He didn’t want to appear like he was checking up on Katie, so he pinged her a text, dressing it up like it was him who needed to see her, which wasn’t a complete lie. He did. He was craving the normality she gave him.

Can I come over? I could do with seeing a friendly face

He read it a few times, before deciding it was casual enough before he sent it. The reply was almost instantaneous.

My door is always open for you. And I made Mac and Cheese. Plenty left.

He couldn’t help but smile. One of the best things about this new life was the food, and her Mac and Cheese was frankly his favourite thing to eat on the planet.

He changed into a pair of sweats and a hoody, hastily making his way to Katie’s penthouse and the smile she gave him when he walked into her place instantly made him feel at ease.

“Hey.” she crossed the space towards him and gave him a hug which he happily melted into, a hug they both needed.

“How did it go?” she asked, pulling away.

“As well as can be expected.” He sighed as he followed her into the kitchen, dropping into the stool on the other side of the breakfast bar. “His mom broke down but they didn’t shout or yell.”

Katie flipped the lid off a beer and handed it to him. He took it, with a nod of thanks and pulled a large swig before he rest his hands on the counter, staring at the bottle.

He was brooding and blaming himself, Katie could tell, so she gently lay her hand on his, reaching over the counter.

“It wasn’t your fault Steve.” she spoke softly and he looked at her.

God, she did that all the time, knew what he was thinking. It gave him the unnerving impression that sometimes she could read his mind.

“I should have spotted that shooter.” he shook his head.

“I’m the fucking mission analyst.” she sighed. “I knew from last time those guys were packing, if I’d done more research, maybe I would have found out about the armour piercing rounds.”

“You can’t seriously blame yourself?” Steve’s frowned.

“Why not?” she shrugged sadly. She’d been over it a million times in her head that day and had come to the same conclusion every time. She should have spotted something, dug further. “I didn’t do my job.”

“Yes, you did.” he implored, his eyes locking onto hers “Your report clearly set out the layout, the learning from previous missions…Adams was just too inexperienced, I should never have taken him.”

There was a pause as the microwave pinged and Katie turned to look at it.

“You know, Clint made a good point before.” she reached in for the plate and the smell of the food made his stomach grumble again as she continued “This job, it’s hard. We fight to keep people safe but not everyone makes it back all the time…and if we can’t learn to live with that then maybe next time no one gets saved.”

“It feels like trading lives.” He took a deep breath as she placed the plate down in front of him “It’s just wrong.”

“I know.” She said, handing him some cutlery and sat down next to him.

“You eaten?” he asked, looking at her, suddenly aware she didn’t have a plate. She nodded.

“Couldn’t have waited until now, I’d have starved to death.” she said, shrugging.

“Hardly.” he replied, mouth full, instantly realising he had said the wrong thing as she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Is that a fat joke?” she asked, making him roll his eyes as he swallowed. That hadn’t been it at all, he was referring to the fact that she never actually stopped eating, despite her tiny frame she gave him a run for his money.

“No, that’s not what I meant. You’re tiny.” he said, almost choking on his food through his protests.

“So now you’re making short jokes?” She shot back. Steve looked at her, dismayed she thought he was being mean to her but then he spotted the look in her eyes and rolled his own.

“Punk.”

“Jerk” she shot back.

It was the perfect way to escape the trauma and stress of the last few days. Once they had finished eating the two of them flopped down on her large L shape sofa, Steve’s legs extended along one side of the L shape, her legs tucked underneath her as she leaned against his shoulder. He couldn’t help but notice the smell of her shampoo…apple, he thought, along with her perfume. Her proximity was making his head buzz but he wasn’t about to move her, the contact was comforting. And it clearly was for her too as about an hour or so into the film- the first in the Lord of The Rings trilogy- he felt her head growing heavy. He glanced down and saw that her eyes were closed and, as he watched, her head slipped slightly. He shifted so that he could catch her gently, and grabbed a cushion from behind him, placing it against his leg. He manoeuvred her head so that she was lay down, gently brushing her hair off her face. She stirred slightly, snuggling down further into the cushion as he absentmindedly rubbed between her shoulder blades as her breathing grew gentle and even.

Steve stayed like that, engrossed in the film right to the end, surprisingly. He had enjoyed it. Katie hadn’t woken up, and he looked down debating whether or not to wake her or simply carry her through to her bedroom. In the end he decided to do neither, instead he reached for the remote as he sifted through to find something else to watch. He didn’t want to leave just yet, he was too comfy and too at ease. Picking one of his favourites, Casablanca, he settled down, getting himself comfy as he immersed himself in the familiar world of Rick’s Café Americain. At one point he felt his eyes growing heavy and he lay his head back, deciding to rest them for just a little while…

**** Katie was jolted awake, quite violently, and as she jerked into an upright position she saw exactly why. Steve was thrashing in his sleep, his face contorted in horror, small murmurs and whimpers slipping from his plump lips. She placed both her hands on his shoulder and shook him. Softly at first, then a bit stronger, trying to rouse him.

“Steve…” she gave him a harsher shake and his eyes flew open, wide in panic and she reached up to cup his face in her hands. “Hey, it’s okay. It was just a dream.”

Her soft voice filled Steve’s senses and, as he realised where he was and whose eyes were looking at him, he took a shaky breath and lay his head back.

Damned it, he’d fallen asleep and had a nightmare. On her sofa.

“Sorry,” he said, his voice croaky, “I err…”

“Don’t apologise, it’s fine.” Katie shook her head gently “I’ll get you a glass of water.”

Whilst she was gone he leaned forward, swinging his legs off the couch so his feet touched the floor, wiping his clammy head with his hands, the memory still flashing through his dream.

Cold air was blasting his hair back…there was a hole in the side of the train…then a flash of light and Bucky flew straight through the hole. “BUCKY…” he yelled, grabbing onto the side of the train, the bar in one hand as he stretched to reach his friend with the other.

“Steve…” The voice was louder, but not loud enough. No, he had to get to Bucky…

But he was gone, Steve was grasping at nothing but air.

Just a dream, Katie had said. It was anything but…

She appeared back in the room with a glass of water and he thanked her as she passed it to him. He took a large gulp, swallowing and was relieved when his breathing began returning to normal.

“You ok?” she asked, kindly as her hand gently knotted into his, her concern evident.

“Yeah, just a nightmare.” he nodded softly “I’ve not had one for a while.”

“Understandable with what’s happened. Wanna tell me what it was about?”

“It was Bucky.” he swallowed thickly “I was replaying the moment he fell. The moment he plummeted to his death from that Hydra train and I didn’t save him.”

Katie stayed silent for a moment before her hand curled round Steve’s shoulder and she pulled him to her, causing him to lay his head on her shoulder. “You know it wasn’t your fault.”

“I should have done more” The guilt ate Steve up every day, that he had survived. Why had he deserved that any more than Bucky?

“How?” she said again. “How could you have done anymore?”

"I should have gone after him.” he said quietly.

“What would’ve changed if you had?” Katie asked. “There’s no way he could have survived that fall.”

“He wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for me.“ He replied, "I should have gone after him, brought him home, done something.”

Katie remained quiet, her hand gently running through his hair which was nice, far too nice. He took a deep breath and sat up moving away from her touch.

"What time is it?”

“Nearly six in the morning” Katie glanced at her watch.

“You’re kidding?” Steve snorted.

“Nope. You want some coffee?” she stood up, stretching her arms above her head.

“Yeah if that’s ok.” he replied, following her to the kitchen. From her body language he could tell she was rolling her eyes, even if she wasn’t facing him.

“I don’t know if your Ma ever told you, but it’s rude to run out on a girl after you spend the night with her.”

“And as you know, I’m useless with women.” he sat down at the barstool on the breakfast bar. He watched her, but he didn’t say anything as she bustled about, throwing some bread in the toaster and then went to the fridge for the butter, marmalade and jam, sliding them onto the island. At that point Steve held his hands up.

“You don’t have to-” he started to say, but she silenced him with a glare, similar to the ones Peggy used to give him, the look that could stop him in his tracks it was that stern.

“Shut up.” she poured them both a cup of the coffee before adding milk and a spoon of sugar to each, passing one to him. The bread popped up from the toaster, and she put it on a plate before sliding it over to him and adding more bread to the machine.

His stomach rumbled and he gave in, smearing butter over his toast. He eyed the jam curiously. He’d had marmalade before but…

He looked at Katie and she nodded. “It’s good.”

So he added some, and after a bite he concluded she was right, and nodded in agreement. Once the next round of toast was done she sat next to him.

“So, when did I fall asleep.” she asked, swallowing her food.

“About an hour into the film.”

She shook her head “What an ass…”

“It wasn’t a problem.” He replied honestly as he took a bite of his breakfast. “To be honest I enjoyed it.”

“What, me drooling on your leg?”

He swallowed, his eyes wide “I meant the film.”

“I know.” she smirked.

***** Chapter 2

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #relaunch #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #katie stark #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character

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heartbreakgrill · 4 years

Note

Omg can I have a part 2 to the Walmart thing about how their relationship develops from there? Pls I need it :(

a/n: there will be a part 3 because I wanna write about you performing on stage and also paris!! Send more requests for anything else, too! 💘

The weeks on tour seemed to pass much more quickly now that you were falling in love. With each day, a new butterfly would land on your stomach, flapping its painted wings with a giddy smile arising to your lips.

Having been friends with Calum prior to being “his girl,” you knew that he was affectionate in his relationships. You’d always admired how kind he was to any girl he ever dated: He’d hold open the door for them, be it to his car or the restaurant, showed them with gifts no matter the occassion, respectfully ask to kiss them no matter how long they’d been together, hold their waist or hand in public and to his chest in private.

However, none of his relationships had ever lasted past three months, and no one knew why. You knew it wasn’t him, no, how could the kindest boy with the softest smile and sweetest words be the cause for girls to cheat, yell, scream, and curse his name? He was never at fault.

It was always them.

Because what you also always noticed in his relationships was that they were one-sided. The girls wanted fame, eyelashes and lip injections to add to the collection. There was nothing wrong with prosthetics or makeup, but they used him to the point that he had stopped being so affectionate over the years.

They’d shrug off his hand in public, get argumentative when he’d ask for, “the third time today!” to kiss them, get chided for opening the door because she, “was perfectly capable of doing it myself, thank you very much.”

You had made it your mission to hold Calum’s heart in your hands as if you were holding the world by the strings of your fingers. Calum was an airplane, and you were the goddess in the sky, dangling him across oceans sheets and towers of gifts.

It was a month into your endeavors when you really got good at being affectionate with him. No one had failed to notice your relationship boom, but you weren’t trying to hide it. So, there was a tranquil balance for everyone.

It was the morning of their last day of European press before everyone got a week off in Paris. Then, you’d be flying back to the US to finish the tour, only to end up in Los Angeles. That would three months from now.

You were curled into Calum’s blankets, having moved from your bunk to his because it was unfairly larger. Your heating blanket was plugged into his wall, his roll of fabric abandoned in his drawer beneath you. You had been discussing with him for weeks that he should figure out how to make it into a proper blanket, but he said he didn’t feel like it because he was, “only good for playing the bass.”

Your boy, and his brothers, were inside an office building with press all day. The show would be shortly after. Crystal was outside with Moose, letting him run off much needed steam. Sierra was in the living room, watching a movie. You had plans for dinner, but that was still an hour and a half away.

You drug yourself out of bed, only slightly bored because you finished the books you had bought again. You pulled fresh clothes out of your suitcase, showered, changed, and plopped down beside Sierra on the couch.

“You smell really good,” she commented, turning down the television so you could hear one another.

“It’s a mixture of my perfume and Calum’s cologne because this is his hoodie,” you giggled lightly while your fingers pulled at the strings on his jacket.

Sierra tilted her head with a sweet smile, “You guys are so cute. I’m so glad you finally got together.”

You wriggled your shoulders happily, “Yeah...”

You sat back with her, chatting about Luke’s want to get his nails done and how attractive you thought Calum was when his nails were black all those years ago.

After a while, the movie ended and you agreed to get up to go to lunch. You grabbed your purse from Calum’s drawer when you noticed his roll of fabric. You had a good idea spring into a head and whipped around, the lightbulb above your head vanishing as you jogged out into the living room of the bus.

After telling your idea to Sierra, the two of you exited the bus and met the driver assigned for the boy’s in the near-end of the parking lot. You ate lunch at a local café before locating a fabric store down the street. You walked there, parusing the store fronts, but resisting the urge to buy too much.

You entered the fabric store and immediately approached the counter. Sierra started by the back corner, browsing through buttons and string. You were somewhere in Nothern Italy, and luckily, had went over a few phrases in the language in case you needed to use them. Because it was a small store, pretty much untouched by foreigners, you expected the cashier to not know English.

“Ciao! parlo inglese e ho bisogno di aiuto per creare una coperta da un rotolo di tessuto,” your eyes were flicked back in your head as if the words were written there, but you were able to recite them from memory.

“A blanket, tu dici?” The elder leader responded, grinning through her smile lines.

“Sì!”

After a few minutes of communicating through broke English and Italian, she was able to guide you to the proper sewing needle, string, and pattern for the blanket. She taught you an easy method to make the blanket.

After thanking her with a hug and a plenty of extra money tips, you and Sierra loaded up in the car and travelled back to the tour bus. For the rest of the day, you tucked yourself into the back room of the bus, random movies and show queued up on Netflix, a few snacks indulged in your system. You even missed the boys’ press day to finish the blanket, having Sierra tell them that you just felt a little sick.

Realistically, you were completing his blanket. Some of the seams were off, there were countless bloody pricks in your fingers, and you were sweating with frustration. But it was done by the time you heard the door of the tour bus open. You quickly shot up, shoved it in your own drawer, and closed yourself in the bathroom. With shaky hands from excitement and nerves, you bandaged two fingers on your left hand and three on your right. You washed the uncovered skin and dried your hands.

You heard a few voices move past the door, even heard Calum poking around in his and your bunk for, well, you. “Where is she?” Calum mumbled to Sierra, worry evident in his exhausted voice.

You popped out of the door, which led straight into the living room, and shuffled down the hallway. Sierra pointed behind his back with a soft smile before moving to the back room where everyone else probably was.

Calum spun on his heel, a grin growing on his face. “Hi, baby.”

You opened your arms for him, and he fell into your embrace, head shoveled into your neck and hands around your waist. You brushed the curls on his head, unbothered by the sweat laced through his hair. He hummed into your embrace, alight with adoration.

“Pardon me,” Ashton slyly passed by the two of you, breaking up your hug.

You pushed Ash away playfully, pulling a chuckle from his and Calum’s chests. “How was press?” You asked him, grabbing the tips of his fingers and leading him to the living room.

You sat beside him, legs tucked under you, knees practically in his lap. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, staring down at you with tired but smiley eyes. “Pretty decent. I felt all sad without you there, though.”

“Well, I guess Italy’s just not interested in me,” You pouted slightly.

“It’s okay, because I am,” he played with your fingers before he noticed the bandaids. “What happened? You okay?”

You noticed his eyes turn worried, pupils dilating wider. You shrugged, “Oh, fine. I’m fine. I was doing come arts and crafts. Oh! Actually. I made you something.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, “Wait, really? What?”

You got up from the couch to retrieve the blanket. It was wrapped up in the Walmart bag, so you dropped it in his lap and sat back down. Calum glanced around you suspiciously, “I know you’re talented at, like, a bunch of stuff. But, if you have that many bandages, I’m slightly concerned by what’s in here.”

You smacked his shoulder, “Just open it.”

He did so, but he was not at all disappointed. The widest grin took over his face when he pulled out the blanket. He set it beside him and wrapped you up in a huge so that you were nearly straddling his lap. He pressed a firm kiss to your cheek, gushing over and over how amazing it was.

“Oh, no big deal,” you laughed, leaning back to kiss him properly. “Just thought you could actually make use of it.”

“It’s awesome. Thank you so much,” he unraveled the blanket and draped it over both of you. “It’s so warm, too.”

“You’re also sweating, so that could just be it,” you laughed.

Calum scoffed and pushed you down into the couch. “Shut up!” He exclaimed, tickling your sides.

“Never,” you pushed back with your own fingers attacking his neck.

When you calmed down from your war, you decided to go to bed, with an early flight to Paris in the morning. It was just the beginning, but Calum already knew you were better than anything he could’ve ever imagined. He couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with you, let alone the next week in the most romantic city on Earth.

TAGLIST: @dinosaursandsocks @everydayimfangirling @truly-charmed @wallows-spring

#5sos fanfic #5sos fluff #calum hood #calum hood imagine #calum hood x reader #calum hood x y/n #calum hood x you #calum hood fluff #calum hood blurb

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reawakening · 5 years

Text

all the heroes fall

[] one day the sky’s going to sing your name

again he was too late. despite his promises to himself, he can’t arrive in time to keep the demons from beating down the door. he only reaches the scene once the destruction has been wrought and the bodies have been looted.

once more, he is unable to prevent the tragedy, he is incapable of avenging it.

they were in formation in a tightly controlled drift above a ketch that bore the blazon of house scar. the ketch itself was docked above the surface of luna, the earth’s moon.

he watched the topside of the eliksni vessel and monitored what their listening posts on its hull could pick up. weapons fire. kinetic weapons, the sounds of percussion pistols firing, hand cannons with their distinctive heavy leaden impact, shotguns and their scattered pellets, the plastic and brass tapping, tinkling against metal floor plating.

it was joined by a frenetic dance of heavy machine gun fire and a rain shower of casings. the telltale sizzle and pop of a fusion rifle charging and discharging. the vacuum seal of a shoulder-mounted rocket launcher being loaded. even the pull of steel against leather as a knife was unsheathed and then driven through a fail point, a join in the armor, metal penetrating fabric and skin, breaking through to tear apart muscle and strike bone.

uldren sov listened to the traveller’s lightbearers charge through the ketch on the hunt for taniks the scarred. he listened with his eyes closed while two of his crows kept watch to his starboard and aft.

the prince of the reef clenched and loosened his hands as he counted the number of bodies he heard fall to the guardians. there were three of the walking dead versus a full compliment of eliksni.

he did not envy the fallen their task.

rather, he envied the guardians theirs.

no, it was not nearly as simple as that.

it should have been his job. his and only his job all along. his job now as it should have been those years ago.

cayde-6 should have been the one to have gone on the hunt for taniks the scarred and not his mentor, andal brask. it was not a mission for the hunter vanguard. there was no call for brask to leave the tower.

it was not his kill to make.

his golden child, the favoured one, the hunter who could do not wrong in his eyes, he was spared a brutal, lonely death at the hands of a legitimate monster.

instead, andal went to face the horror alone.

uldren covered his mouth with a gloved hand to keep from shouting in anger and disgust. his death was pure folly. it was pointless. it didn’t even save lives. it was for naught, utterly, completely, for naught.

cayde-6 had hunted down taniks for the crime of murdering andal brask. he had killed the fallen savage. uldren would not have given up pursuit if he knew otherwise. he and his crows had verified the death of the scarred.

bastard. motherfucking bastard. how did he fool me?

the prince leaned forward in the cockpit, casting a scowl at the space surrounding the three galliots. he was searching the stars for a particular vessel, an arcadia-class jumpship adorned with the spades symbol, much like those found on a deck of playing cards.

no. he wasn’t watching. would he even be listening?

“the least you can do is to be here when it’s finally finished,” uldren snapped, his breathing uneven and eyes a deep smouldering orange. “couldn’t do it right the first fucking time. watch as your precious guardians clean up your mess.”

he pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes tightly. he could hear the sounds of the battle reach a crescendo. the coda was approaching. if these lightbearers were as competent as their promise hinted toward, the bastard spawn would soon be dead. truly, finally, dead.

when the moment did arrive, it was a hollow feeling. hearing the death scream of taniks the scarred did not give him the satisfaction uldren had been hoping for. the emptiness was still there. the ache was still there.

he still missed andal terribly.

“asshole,” he whispered, eyes staring at nothing.

uldren took a moment to breathe before activating his comms. “the traveller’s damned should be returning to their tower shortly,” he said to his crows. “make a rough inventory of high-value, high-priority items on that ketch for the privateers to retrieve.”

a little known part of the awoken fleet, and one of the oldest wings in the armada, were the privateers. much like the naval vessels of old, their specialty was the capture of merchant ships, though in the reef this was relegated to anyone foolhardy enough to cross into awoken space without the queen’s grace.

the life blood of taniks wasn’t enough for uldren. the bastard had cheated death once. the prince would have his pound of flesh and whatever the so-called kell of scars had in his stores, every last synth, every last mat, every last piece of glimmer.

his crows flew in for a close range scan of the ketch once the guardian fireteam departed. he blew out a long sigh and cracked his neck. perhaps a decent enough bounty returned to the reef in tribute to mara would improve his mood.

a change in readings caught his attention. he leaned forward and scanned through the logs.

someone had hacked into the listening stations they’d planted on the hull. uldren and his team weren’t the only ones who were witness to the guardians killing taniks.

he bolted upright and whipped his head around, left to right, and caught a gleam off of his port side. he squinted at it, and pulled up his short-range sensors to get a better view. it was just at the edge of his unassisted vision.

he saw an arcadia-class jumpship with spades on her engines and an exo in her cockpit.

“you son of a bitch,” uldren muttered, not without a certain degree of begrudging admiration. he saw cayde-6 give a nonchalant salute and then the exo raised a flask in a toast.

the prince smirked and reached for the hip flask he carried on his gun belt. he loosened the cap and held it up in the cockpit. “to andal,” he said, eyes fixed upon cayde’s jumpship. he took a sip of the bourbon he carried with him and let it sit in his mouth a moment before enjoying the warmth as it slid down his throat.

he tapped at his instrument panel and opened a channel direct to the hunter vanguard’s ship. he then queued up a music track, one that seemed appropriate.

uldren settled back into the pilot’s chair and set his feet onto a safe corner of the the console as an english guitarist long forgotten to the rest of the system gently plucked the opening notes to a song about camaraderie and longing. he took another sip of his bourbon and gave a nod to the exo who had manoeuvred his ship alongside the galliot.

so, so you think you can tell heaven from hell blue skies from pain can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail? a smile from a veil? do you think you can tell?

did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts? hot ashes for trees? hot air for a cool breeze? cold comfort for change? did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?

how i wish, how i wish you were here we're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl year after year running over the same old ground and how we found the same old fears wish you were here

pink floyd

wish you were here

#destiny #destiny 2 #destiny fanfic #destiny fic #drabble #andal brask #cayde-6 #cayde 6 #prince uldren sov #uldren sov #all the heroes fall #killedbytaniks #gunslingiing #prince : ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ᴍʏ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡɪsᴅᴏᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴍᴀᴅɴᴇss ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʟʟʏ #tw : violence #tw : violent themes

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mccracken46drew-blog · 5 years

Text

Watch Ben 10: Final Alien On-line Free

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imhereforbvcky · 7 years

Text

I Can’t Go Back To Yesterday Because I Was A Different Person Then - Part 2

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 3

Summary: While in the field, Steve and Bucky come across the handiwork of an old cohort of Bucky’s. He must figure out how to reconcile his past with his present.

Warnings: swearing, mission violence/assassination

Word Count: 2113

Author’s Note: 3 part mini series, last part queued for tomorrow so no series tags.

Previously…

“Why are you so keen on keeping her alive?” Natasha cut in. She eyed Bucky carefully, studying his face for any reaction, any hint at who this Queen of Hearts was to Bucky Barnes. “Who is she?”

Bucky’s jaw clenched immediately. The muscle in his cheek did that little twitch it always does when he’s stressed or anxious, when he feels like he’s being backed into a corner, when he feels caged in. Bucky Barnes had always had a terrible poker face.

“She helped me escape HYDRA once.”

Madrid, several years earlier…

Bucky moved with determined purpose through the halls of the hotel. Or more accurately, the Winter Soldier did. His orders were simple: assassinate, no witnesses. The information on the target came in a neat dossier that included several photos, basic information about the target, his schedule while in Madrid, and his hotel information.

Despite the need to blend in, the soldier had been handed his usual gear: thick black leather jacket and black cargo pants packed full of any equipment he might need for any number of unforeseen complications. He’d strapped the several holsters to his body, loading firearm after firearm, followed by a host of knives. His uniform never changed, and it didn’t matter the situation.

He’d waited at the service entrance, took down an unsuspecting member of hotel staff and slipped in the door. He moved quickly up the stairs, the determined and menacing look quickly terrified anyone he encountered until he was skulking down the hall toward the door he’d read about in his dossier.

When the door was in sight, the familiar stifled pop of a handgun with a suppressor cut through the quiet hall. It still sounded distinctly like gunfire and without the flash of the explosive gunpowder. Most would assume someone was watching some James Bond flick with the volume way too loud.

But he knew, and within seconds he’d kicked the door open and slid into the room, his own weapon raised and sweeping the room. His eyes fell first on his target, fallen backward onto his bed with a bullet hole through his skull and blood spreading in a dark stain across the mattress.

Next, he spotted the bodyguard slumped over the desk, in no better condition with two shots through the chest. Continuing his sweep with a heightened sense of urgency he finally reached her. A lithe figure, standing bold as you please, with her shoulders squared, holding her 9mm aimed firmly at him. The thick suppressor weighed the gun differently, but she held it steady, her feet positioned perfectly beneath her.

They both froze for several seconds, weapons trained on each other. Bucky knew she could have - should have - killed him the second he came through the door. He should have killed her by now, but he was frozen, confused and frustrated. He had orders: no witnesses. But she wasn’t a witness, she’d done the job. Why the hell was he still standing?

“And here I thought you were just a legend,” she purred. She didn’t move other than to tilt her head to the right and raise her eyebrow at the glimmering metal arm. “The Winter Soldier.” Her voice came out smooth and confident as she dragged out the words. It betrayed her curiosity.

He remained still, trying to piece this together. The edges of his memory had begun to connect. It’d been a while since he’d had any reprogramming and he ached for any information about himself, anything that could help him believe he’d once had some humanity. He still wasn’t sure any knowledge this woman might have would be anything but ugly, but like a festering wound, he just couldn’t leave it alone.

“Who are you?” he finally managed. The rough edge to his voice sounded dark and threatening, even to his own ears, but she seemed unfazed, amused even.

She smirked and dipped her left hand into her back pocket, keeping the other holding her gun aimed at her intruder. She dropped the deck of cards onto the bed beside her and pushed them around, until she found what she was looking for. With two fingers, she flashed the queen of hearts at him before kneeling onto the bed beside his deceased target.

“‘A blind and aimless Fury’,” she hummed, giving him one quick smirking glance. Without the slightest hesitation she reached forward pulling the man’s chin down and sliding the card between his lips.

She removed a phone from another pocket and quickly snapped a photo of her handiwork before texting it off. “Receipt,” she explained casually before removing the sim card from the phone and smashing both with the steel shaker from the mini bar.

“Now,” she finally turned back to Bucky, who had watched her, confused and entranced. “What are we gonna do about the two of us?” She gestured between them casually with her gun, the heavy suppressor making her movements exaggerated and almost relaxed.

He knew better than to believe it. “I have orders to kill any witnesses,” he informed her, voice cold and firm.

“Ah but you’re the witness here, not me,” she smiled, a teasing and smug thing that made him both furious and intrigued all at once. He could only stare at her in confused curiosity. “I’m the one who did the deed, and you walked in, that makes you the witness, technically speaking.”

“I can’t let you go and take credit for this,” he argued, staring at her feet, frustration and fear bubbling to the surface in equal measure. “I have orders.” He couldn’t go back and explain why he’d let her go, that he’d failed his mission because she completed it first.

“Well that makes this all the more interesting.”

Her smirk and relaxed demeanor didn’t fit his protocol, she wasn’t supposed to be here and she should be afraid. Fear of consequence reached the surface and he moved on her faster than she could think. He had her by the throat, pinned to the wall with his handgun pressed up against her chin.

“Okay, easy!” she commanded. She exuded confidence, but he could see the fear in the way her eyes darted back and forth between his. “It’s an interesting opportunity for you.” She clarified. “Dissension among the ranks? Think about it. I was hired by HYDRA to take this guy out, and you were sent here with the same mission? Not a chance. They wouldn’t waste the resources. What else was in your objective?”

Bucky backed off slightly, releasing his grip on her and taking half a step back, but his gun remained fixed on her. “No witnesses.”

“No witnesses,” she repeated, nodding.

“You’re my mission,” he finally realized, shifting slightly.

“Dissension from within,” she agreed. “Your guy wants to take down my guy, so he sends you to kill my guy’s enforcer - me.”

“It doesn’t change anything.”

“Sure it does,” she sounded genuinely bright and pleased with this current situation. “It means we can both walk away.” He eyed her as she pushed his gun away with two raised fingers and began picking up the disused playing cards.

“I can’t… we can’t just walk away,” he argued, incredulous.

She studied him for a moment, reading the fear in every angry crease of his brow, the curve of his frown and the blaze in his clear blue eyes. “What are you so afraid of?”

“They won’t let me go,” he sighed, finally mimicking her actions and lowering his weapon.

“Don’t give them the choice.”

She watched him move quickly to the window and pull the curtain slightly. His apprehension manifest in the way he chewed his lip and the careful glances he made to the SUV parked just outside. The one he’d come in. The one with 3 HYDRA agents - a driver, his handler, and a doctor all waiting for him to return within his timetable.

“Is it… is it those spooks in the SUV that you’re worried about?” she asked, “‘Cause I think we can take ‘em.” She grinned, nodding toward the two bodies she’d dispatched on her own already.

“It’ll draw attention. I have… there’s protocol, and if I don’t follow it…” he wasn’t sure why he was spilling all this to her. Maybe knowing she was also working for HYDRA would excuse it, or maybe knowing she was on his side, not theirs, or maybe it was just the way she made escape sound so… possible. “If I don’t come back or check in on time my handler down there’ll--”

“Your handler?” she demanded, the shock written all over her face. Her eyebrows had shot halfway up her forehead, her eyes were wide with surprise before they narrowed on him. There was no mistaking that fire: anger. “Handler. Like you’re some kind of trained animal?”

It was a rhetorical question, thankfully, because Bucky didn’t feel up to answering that one.

“No. We’re leaving,” she insisted, not giving him a moment to protest. “I’ll take care of them, you just go. Keep your head down for a while. A long while.”

He stared at her in disbelief, a confused scowl drawing his features into what he hoped was a dark refusal, but came off more like a lost kid. “I… I don’t have any… resources.”

“You’re a resourceful guy in the field, I bet you can figure it out,” she smirked before slipping through the doorway.

He followed her at a quick pace, catching up. This went against every protocol, but he’d been out of cryofreeze so long that it seemed viable. It seemed like something Bucky Barnes would try. He had to try.

“I don’t have any money, or food, I don’t even have clothes,” he tugged on the thick leather jacket that covered his torso and glanced at the combat gear that covered the rest of him.

“Okay, so come with me,” she suggested, as nonchalant as he could have ever dreamed possible. Who would want to protect him? Run with him? Run from the monsters who would give chase? “When’s your next check in?”

“8 minutes.”

“Plenty of time.”

As they exited the service entrance, she took his hand and dragged him behind her to a car parked on the street. She opened the trunk and shoved a large hoodie into his hands before carefully lifting a small cube of grey dough from within a small fire safe. He eyed her with mouth agape as she connected the wired glob to another cell phone.

“Stay here,” she instructed before slipping into the dark shadows that swallowed the street.

He watched her dark form ease up to the SUV he’d crawled out of when he first arrived here. She crouched low and set the small explosive just beneath it and then jogged back to the car before grabbing a duffle bag from the trunk and taking his hand again. They jogged around the corner before pulling to a casual walk as they approached the main street.

Still holding his hand she pulled his arm over her shoulder, much to his shock. “Blending,” she explained with a wink. “Don’t look so grim.”

About three blocks later and two minutes shy of the Winter Soldier’s check-in time, she stopped abruptly. She pulled another phone from inside the bag and powered it up. The little bomb she’d planted was armed, and once she dialed the number only waiting for her to press send.

“You sure about this?” she asked him one last time, giving him a chance to change his mind, to run back or run away. He looked her square in the eye and nodded before reaching forward and pressing the send button himself.

A fraction of a second later the explosion sucked all attention to it. The billowing black smoke and bright hot flames stole the eyes and ears of everyone nearby, allowing them the cover they needed to disappear.

“But you were with HYDRA when we crossed paths in D.C.,” Steve argued.

“Yeah, well… nothing lasts forever,” Bucky looked genuinely dejected, like there was a dull ache gnawing at the center of him for leaving you.

“How long?”

Bucky shook his head and pursed his lips, both frustrated and unsure. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I can’t remember all of it. Months at least.”

Steve nodded. He understood. He knew what it meant to find a piece of your past, a lighthouse in the storm, and he understood the need to chase it.

“Alright,” he finally conceded. “You can have the first crack at bringing her in, but you’re not going alone and you’re wearing a wire.”

Bucky slid his notebook over to Steve, opened to the pages on the Queen of Hearts. They were the pages where he’d tried to lock down every memory he could: every alias, ever address, every night huddled in safe houses, every night on the street when there was nowhere else to go, every close call, every busride, every disguise.

He pushed away from the table and started to leave, fighting the heavy sense that he’d betrayed her with the knowledge that it was the only way to save her. “Let me know when you’ve found her.”

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#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky angst #bucky x reader angst #bucky barnes x reader #marvel imagine #bucky imagine #queen of hearts fic #alice in wonderland fic

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emergenciesstory · 6 years

Text

We need you

Parings: Female!reader x Female!partner (OFC Max), Steve x Bucky, Past!Reader x Bucky

Warnings: Gay-ness

Words: 1767

Summary: Reader left to settle down with her wife, but no one said getting out was permanent. When have the old team goes MIA, Reader has to break the fairytale for reality.

A/N: May make this a multipart. Let me know

Series Masterlist

“I’ll get it!” you heard your partner yell as the ringing phone stopped. You finished making the bed and started stuffing pillows back in their cases. “Hold on one second.” Walking back into the bedroom, they held the phone out to you, shrugging their shoulders. Taking the phone, you made a face at Max.

“Y/L/N.” You said, cocking an eyebrow at your partner, throwing the pillow at them playfully.

“We need you again” *click*. The world slowed as you heard the voice, chilling you to the core. Slowly lowering the phone, you knew the worry was written across your face.

“What’s wrong? Who was that?” Looking at Max, her face so innocent, you knew this would break their heart. “Babe, are you okay?”

Turning your back and heading to the closet, you spoke with words as monotone as the dial tone humming from the handset.

“I haven’t told you everything about what I did, well, do.” Slipping behind clothes in the back of the closet, you pushed the exterior wall, giving way to a secret hole in the closet. Grabbing the three duffle bags, you brought them out and set them on the bed.

“Okay so tell me.” Max sat on the upper corner of the bed, looking questioningly to the bags you placed on the foot, hands in their lap. “I’m not going anywhere. For better or worse, right?” Her smile was flawless, pure. You couldn’t look at them as you spoke.

Unzipping the first duffle, you riffled through the spandex suits and masks, mentally counting before slipping on the old watch in the bottom. Throwing a hoodie in, you zipped it back up.

“You know I worked for the Government, Top secret jobs that no one could ever know about.” Your partner nodded their head as you zipped the duffle, opening the next and pulling out a case. Opening it quickly, you handed the contents to your partner, dozens of Passport books with different names, stamps, languages, identities, but the same picture in each one, yours. “That’s not entirely true.” Minutes passed in silence, nothing but the rustling of papers.

“Which of these is real?” They asked plainly, almost a whisper. Pulling out the most worn copy from the bottom of the case, you went around and knelt beside the bed, pulling her to face you.

“My name is Y/n, Y/L/N. That is true. Everything I told you is true. About where I come from, my family, it’s all real, no cover story. But that person doesn’t exist to the world, to the government. Only to you and the people on the phone. For your protection, for our protection.” You handed her your passport and stood, diving back into the duffle, pulling the COMMS unit out and placing it securely in your ear.

“Soldat. I��m loaded.” You said, queuing into the feed for the man on the phone. Glancing at your partner, you realized it was still quiet.

“Maxi, say something, please.” you begged. They looked at you, mouth moving but nothing coming out. Grabbing the last duffle, you handed it to them. “This is yours. In case my work ever put you in danger. Please, know I hate having to run like this. I never thought I’d be called back in.” Leaning over them, you leaned in for a kiss, and when they were still stunned still, you kissed their forehead and grabbed your two bags. “I love you, that was never a lie. I’ll be back soon, if you still want me. Just, I’m sorry.”

Walking out, you held the tears from your eyes, pulling the old farm truck from the back of the garage and leaving the cabin, never looking back. You had bought the place as a safehouse, the small town making it easy to disappear and start the life you wanted. Placing your fingers under the radio, you felt the familiar warmth of the fingerprint scanner, then the prick of the blood draw. The screens flipped out and you continued the winding drive down the mountain, away from safety, away from the love of your life.

“I’m sorry we had to call on such short notice, y/n/n. We wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t an emergency.” Sam’s face was tired, looking like he hadn’t slept in weeks. The man made your heart melt, they all did. They were your family after all.

“It’s okay, Sam. I’m about twenty out from the farm. What’s going on?”

“Stark, Rogers, and Romanov have been compromised. They didn’t return at the set time and have missed the follow up call in.”

“How’s Barnes holding up? So close to the wedding and all.”

“Barton, Barnes, Parker, and myself will meet you at the drop, and head straight towards the last known location of the operatives.” Sam said, not answering your question. You knew this was hard, The save the date being for next week.

“Confirmed. See you then.” The monitor clicked off, and you pressed the gas harder. This would be the mission of a lifetime.

________________________________

Y/n had left long before Max opened the duffle infront of them. Inside was a case similar to the one you had pulled the passports out of, a black leather type jacket, and a set of clothes. Pulling out the case, a fingerprint reader lit up. Placing her thumb on it, the print reader got warm before pricking their finger.

“Ow.” Max said, bringing her finger to her lips and sucking the small drop of blood.

“Welcome, Max.” The small feminine voice rang out as the case opened. “My name is Friday, I am an AI built to help the Avengers. Y/n asked I monitor this case for when it is opened. She left you a message, would you like to hear it?”

Hesitating, Max bit her lip before responding. “Yes, please.”

“One Moment.” The silence was no more than a couple seconds, but it felt like an eternity.

“Max, I hoped you would never hear this, that one day when we are grey and old I could open this with you and we could reminisce. Unfortunately, in my line of work, that is never the case.” Max let out a small chuckle at the slight pun.

“This is your crash case. If you opened it, it means I was called away. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth about my job, I just wanted you safe. I made this after our first date, I knew I wanted to be with you forever that day. In the bottom of this case you will find three passports and ID cards, and a business card for a car service. If I am gone without contact for more than a week, Call the number and ask for Happy’s motorcycle. It’s a code phrase. The man to pick you up will be in a old Ford, and his ID will read Jack. He will ask to see your ID, use the red one. He will take you to a safe place where you will be filled in.”

Max flipped through the ID’s and passports, making a mental note.

“I know this is a lot of information, babe, but Friday is linked to the Cabin and was activated as soon as you opened the case. The watch is a tracker as well as panic button. If anything happens spin the ring three times and I will come back to you, no matter what. Emergencies only. If you have any questions, Ask Friday. You have full access to information you need.” The message went quiet for a moment.

“Max, I love you so much. No matter what happens, I’m always yours.”

The room was quiet for a moment, Max reached out and picked up the delicate watch, a simpler version of the one you put on earlier.

“Is there anything I can explain for you, Max?” Friday’s voice was now coming from inside the room, little speakers now easier to pick out around the room.

“No. Just keep her safe.” Closing the case, Max placed the duffle back into the closet.

_____________________

Your watch lit up as you pulled into the barn on the far edge of Barton’s farm, a message showing the case had been opened. Taking a deep breath, you changed quickly before pulling the bags out of the car and covering it with an old tarp. Walking out, the familiar roar of the Quinjet descending to a hover right in front of you filled your ears, as you ran to jump in the back. Swinging in, the door closed behind you.

“Just like riding a bike,” Sam smiled from beside you, taking your jump bag and securing them in the box. Giving him a hug, you looked around. Barton was flying, shooting you a wink from the captain's chair. An energetic and anxious looking kid sat strapped into the passengers bench, the one seat no one ever had to buckle up in. Bucky was slumped into a tracking station, headphones on and focused. Looking back at the kid, you gave him a smile.

“You must be new to this whole avenging thing,” you mused. “Hi, I’m Y/n.” You sauntered towards him, extending your hand.

“I know. I mean, hi, I’m Peter, Peter Parker. Local friendly neighborhood Spiderman. Or, I guess not Local. New York. I’m from New York.” He shook your hand, shaking his head like he was chastising himself.

“Well, Peter, it’s very nice to meet you. I’m excited to see your talents.” You looked back at Bucky, who hadn’t moved. Walking over to him, the rest of the Jet grew quite, Clint having a hushed conversation with Peter to give you privacy. Wrapping your arms around the Super soldier from the back, you leaned into him and spoke softly into the COMMS, knowing only he could hear.

“You know, it’s not the first time he’s gone MIA. He always comes back, you know that.” Bucky tensed slightly before dissolving into you, his fingers rubbing the spot Steve’s ring was carved out of his metal hand.

“I don’t blame you for getting out. I’m sorry you couldn’t stay that way.” He murmured, turning in your arms. You sat in his lap, so familiar like old times being partnered on missions.

“I’m glad you called, Buck. Family comes first, and you’re stuck with me.” Pulling your hair up out of your face, you gave a weak smile. “Now, let’s go save your world.”

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