#new fanfiction story unlocked lol
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So.... today's quality played me dirty BUT! I had a (lets say nice) conversation with Del and he was like "tf you want from me" but then (I think) he started to checking me out (??), like, just look at this:
this frickin' mf, goddamn, i'm too horny as for a fictional character
#if he keeps staring at me like this im gonna push him against this damn door i swear#new fanfiction story unlocked lol#I don't know why ppl say he's mean#he's so frickin' nice to me#too nice oml#he's such a babeee#a small bean#a coffee bean#like his eyes#sorry for quality again#delgado#starfield#crimson fleet#bethesda#my oc stuff#my screenshots#gay shit
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I guess Arlong's my new muse lol
Not that that's a bad thing. Ever since I was a teenager, I'd fall for characters in animes, tv shows, etc. I.e. Myotismon, Tom Hiddleston's Loki, Penguin from the DC universe, En Sabah Nur/Apocalypse from the Marvelverse. I know I'm hardly unique in having blorbos/husbandos (or waifus)/a fantasy harem. Though it wasn't the only thing about these fandoms I liked - I appreciate the universe/fandom/stories, and the characters I like specifically is just one part of that.
Over the last few years I had been struggling with depression and other mental health issues (that predated COVID) and had struggled creatively, not being able to draw anything (part of this was from burnout and other shit but I digress) and writing felt like a chore, I constantly felt like what I wrote wasn't good enough.
The last two years were also a real struggle at work because of an abusive manager and dickbag boss and shitty company, and the issues had been escalating the previous year, taking a great toll on me physically and mentally (was literally overworked and had been for a good while) Last October, I suffered from a work-related health issue and my doctor mandated I take off from work for a month. Not long before this happened, I had started watching the live action One Piece and really enjoying myself.
My month break from work gave me plenty of time to watch the live action all over as well as a big part of the anime including yes, the Arlong Park Arc. And that sharkman... oh lord I have never simped for anyone so hard.
So I started writing OP fanfiction, but not only that, my creative juices were flowing better overall. I finally finished the manuscript for my novel Moonshadows, I started some new projects, made good progress on other projects, and finished a few more projects. Those who follow me on AO3 will have noticed this, of course, but there's plenty happening behind the scenes as well because I am also working on a few fun original projects.
In the last few months, I got more writing done than I did in the last few YEARS.
All because of Arlong. It's like my Arlong simping unlocked my creativity not just for him but other things because I'm also drawing again after not drawing anything for years. it's insane really, but I am grateful to my sharkman for taking such good care of me and inspiring my creativity.
I also have a new Arlong project in the works since my current Arlong project only has a couple of chapters left. All aboard the simp train and let's see where it takes us.
I think Arlong might have also devoured my old muse but that's ok because the old muse was a lazy cunt who did nothing for me.
#writing#one piece#strawberrycatbeans#fanfiction#arlong#opla#arlong pirates#villain gets the girl#arlong the saw#creativity
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Here are my thoughts on Nightbringer. Spoilers for lessons 1-10; I haven’t unlocked everything because my strength took a nosedive around lesson 5, but I’m working on levelling up my team so I can. I also want to make sure I’m not struggling when they release the next lesson 🥲
Anyway . . .
I’m enjoying the story so far! It’s interesting to see what the brothers acted like before they integrated into Devildom society and the impact the Great Celestial War had on them. They’re still the same characters we know and love, but at a much different time in their lives. Their wounds are still fresh, they’re trying to navigate their new lives as well as the trauma of losing their sister and the fall. They’re going through so many changes, and I want to be there for them 🥺
The story doesn’t go as in depth as I’d like, but that’s to be expected since the original game lacked that detail too; that’s what fanfiction is for! However, I’m finding it more enjoyable and better written than seasons 3 and 4 of Obey Me. Of course, they had their moments, but they didn’t feel the same as the first two seasons to me, and Nightbringer does a better job of that in my opinion. It brought back memories of the first time I downloaded and played Obey Me and how excited I was to continue the story. I definitely had a difficult time putting my phone down lol.
I hope they have a solid outline for the story and its progression. I don’t want what happened to Obey Me to happen to Nightbringer. I’ll be curious to see if they tie everything together in the end and if we’ll get to see how the brothers in the present timeline feel about MC’s diasppearance. The Nightbringer aspect is interesting, and I’m assuming Barbatos is Nightbringer. I wonder what his reasons are for sending MC to the past, and if it was present Barbatos or perhaps Barbatos from the future or another timeline?
I do dislike how, even though the story takes place in the past, the timeline doesn’t add up. Obey Me has always done this (example being Levi reading manga and watching anime when it shouldn’t exist yet) so I tend to ignore it for my own sake. I’ll write these inconsistencies out of my own headcanon.
I feel so sad for the brothers and all they went through and are still going through. I know my MC would do their best to be a positive influence in their lives, supporting and comforting them through these difficult times. I also see my MC being uncertain and scared being stuck in the past and not knowing how they ended up there or if they’ll be able to return to the present, wishing they could turn to the brothers and not being able to. The demons they came to know and love don’t know or love them, and that would be hard to deal with; home but not quite. Then having to keep themselves together and pretend everything is okay, lying to those they love because they can’t risk the impact it would have on the future 😭
I like that Solomon plays a bigger role in Nightbringer. I’ve grown fonder of his character. My MC would appreciate his company and consider him their rock: I see my MC and Solomon having a sibling-esque relationship. If it weren’t for Solomon they would feel much worse and not know what to do. I love his relaxed nature and sense of humor too. It’s comforting.
And of course I have to talk about Levi!!! MY SWEETIE PIE 🥹🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡 Honestly, I was afraid of how they’d depict him in Nightbringer. I’m still a bit nervous since they haven’t mentioned him being a general in the Celestial Realm or Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy; I’ll be curious to see if they do at some point. Obey Me also showed he was not always an otaku shut-in and implied that happened after the fall, but I’m almost under the impression that’s not the case in Nightbringer? I’m not certain though. They did state in Obey Me that Levi had control over Lotan in the Celestial Realm, but in Nightbrinfer it shows that summoning and having control over Lotan is one of his newfound abilities ehhh.
Crying 🥹💕
I love his interactions with Snake/Henry 1.0 😭 They’re so sweet!!! I hope we get to see Levi becoming an avid TSL fan; it’s funny that MC introduced him to both TSL and Ruri-chan hehehe. And since Snake will become Henry 1.0 I’m really looking forward to more TSL content. PLEASE 🥺✨ I was so happy with Levi’s storyline and how they incorporated TSL.
I never thought I could love Levi even more than I do, but in this moment I fell in love with him all over again 🥰 He’s SO adorkable!!! I want to hug and kiss him and smother him with LOVE. And getting to waltz with Levi flkdsjflkds Such a sweet moment. The progression of his and MC’s relationship is much different than in Obey Me, and it’s interesting to see how a freshly fallen Levi interacts with MC compared to the Levi who’s been a demon living in the Devildom for centuries (you could say this for any/all of the characters.) I initially didn’t like his character in Obey Me because he was mean, rude, and demanding until I found out he’s actually a total cutie 😊
Ahhh and the scene where we run into Levi in the bathroom!!! I love how at first he doesn’t believe MC wants to spend time with him of their own accord, but then says how, in the shower, he thought it over and maybe MC means what they said. MY HEART 😭 When he opened up to MC I wanted to cry and wished I could hug the poor demon. Talking about how even in the Celestial Realm he was depressed, not feeling like he belonged, and thought maybe that would change in the Devildom. And in that moment I thought, “no wonder he’s my comfort character.” Poor Levi has been dealing with so much, even in the Celestial Realm, and I want to see him happy. He deserves all the anime, manga, and games in the three realms!!! Oh, and when it was obvious he was interested in cosplay but too self-conscious to give it a try. Ahhh, I relate to him too much. It all hit me hard, and I wanted to cry the entire time.
He ends up coming such a long way 😢 I LOVE HIM SO MUCH 🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡
All the characters are dear to me, but another one I wanted to talk about is Satan!!! I’ve always enjoyed his character, and he was actually a favorite of mine before I become a hardcore Leviastan. Nightbringer made me appreciate his character again, and he pushed his way into my top 3. I feel like I can relate to him. Not being able to control your emotions, having a hard time understanding yourself and those around you, wanting to fit in and not knowing how, being unable to express yourself and lashing out when you don’t mean to. I’ve felt similar throughout my life (still do in ways) but have learned to hide my “true” self behind a mask when in public and have had to figure out how to navigate and express myself in healtheir and “acceptable” ways. If that makes sense lol. I kept relating to him and feeling so sorry for him. Yes, he’s scary when his anger gets the best of him, but I still felt sympathetic, found him relatable, and wanted to comfort him. EDIT to add he also seems to get overwhelmed and overstimulated easily, which I, again, relate to; like when Belphie was upset, and Satan had to leave because he couldn’t deal with the commotion.
And I know Obey Me overused his love for cats, but the scene where he sees a cat for the first time 🥺 Cats seem to be a comfort for him, and I can understand that too. Animals are a huge comfort for me, especially bunnies, and are some of the best friends I’ve had. When no one understood me, they did, and I felt like I could be myself and they would accept me for who I am; they don’t judge and love you uncondtionally. Sorry, I’m getting personal, but I wonder if it’s the same for Satan. I want to give him a big hug.
Omg, I’ve talked long enough, but now I want to talk about game mechanics! I actually enjoy playing Ruri Tunes. The dance battles in Obey Me always bored me. I hated not being able to skip them before VIP. I didn’t mind them in the beginning, but the more I played the more they annoyed me. Ruri Tunes is entertaining and engaging! I’ve never played a rythm game before, but I’m learning and am better than when I first started a couple days ago. I love listening to the songs and hope they drop the remixes eventually. I find myself wanting to get better at Ruri Tunes so I can clear them all and get full combos; I love when Levi says FULL COMBO lol.
As for Wanderers’ Whereabouts and Fab Snap, I feel indifferent to them at the moment. They don’t add anything to the story for me, and I’m not a fan of the 3D models. I haven’t messed around with them too much, so maybe they’ll grow on me, but as of now they don’t interest me.
I think the app itself runs a lot smoother and doesn’t lag like Obey Me did. The graphics are nice, though I miss aspects of the original Obey Me app like the transition between scenes and lessons and the look and feel of Nightmare; I think they could have updated them without losing the ambience of the originals’. Does that make sense? Otherwise, I love how they updated the game!!!
I can’t wait to see how the story progresses and Nightbringer grows over time. I was afraid when I heard they wouldn’t be updating the original app because Obey Me brings me so much comfort and joy, but a lot of my doubts have subsided since playing. I’M SO HAPPY AND IT REALLY CHEERED ME UP 😭✨
Ahhh if anyone has read this far I thank you fldjfldfdksjflsd So much nonsense 💀 Though now I really want to write more. I feel like I have that inspiration and motivation I had when I wrote my first headcanon set 🥺 And I’m interested to know what everyone else thinks of Nightbringer 😊
#sorry for my word vomit fkljdslkfds#i'm not normal about this game#forgive me#noelle plays nightbringer
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❤️Masterpost❤️
Baulder's Gate 3 AU Halsin's Daughter: Circle of Decay
Description: All Faeryl wanted was her freedom – Her home was life was messy, abusive, and shrouded in secrecy. Being the bastard daughter of noble drow princess and an unknown father has caused the hierarchy in her house to become out of order. Because of this, she is treated like a house servant behind closed doors. However, in the public eye , she is one of the best escorts and spies of her Noble House. She runs from home to the surface world and makes her way towards Baulder's Gate where she meets Mol and Arabella. Two tieflings who work for “The Guild" doing their mercenary and heist jobs. The two take Faeryl under their wings and show her the ropes; they soon become and unstoppable team and are given a new mission: Kill the Eldest Son of House Vandree, Alistair Vandree, Faeryl's half brother.
All Content Page -> ( Link )
Written Scenes/ Fanfiction:
"I'll Be Gentle" 18+ Dammon x Faeryl
Stardew Valley: The Dark of the Valley
Description: Donnie and Tanner were expecting a relaxing summer in the valley, doing odd jobs and helping out on the farm. However, things take an unexpected turn when they meet Sam, Abigail, and Sebastian. A trio starved for adventure and to be rid of their mundane lives in the valley. Together, the five of them explore the mines only to unlock an ancient evil, a vampire queen, and start another supernatural war.
All Content Page -> ( Link )
Wattpad -> ( Link )
Chapters:
Chapter 1: Donavan meets Sebastain
My Doodles and Art 💙
I only recently started my digital art journey but if you wanna see some doodles of my OCs/Tavs/RP Server Shenanighans Click here -> (Link)
I will eventually go through and explain some of their stories lol
#bg3#baulders gate 3#halsin#bg3 halsin#sdv#sdv community#sdv fanfic#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 fanfic idea#bg3 au#bg3 tav#bg3 oc#stardew valley#my art#my artwrok#my art stuff#doodle#sketches#my artwork
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About Me 14 | When Fanfic Dating Comes to Life (or, I Met AMOMK Yoongi... for Real)
(TW: some discussion of a death in my family)
Where the hell have I been??
I don’t know! I don’t know where I am! But... I kinda like it here.
I actually really like it here.
It’s light, and happy, and rewarding, and fulfilling. And still very full of BTS.
For one thing, I put up all my BTS posters that I was saving for when I finally have my own home office. But I figured... why wait?
(you can buy these at ichoism.com! and it’s where my pfp comes from!)
I feel like that unlocked a lot of things for me.
Why wait?
And I think, to take a bit of a somber turn, that’s what hit me the most after my grandmother passed away about a month ago.
I’ve written about this in my fics quite a bit, and I think a lot of Millennials (certainly all of my Millennial friends) have been continuously grappling with unlearning of the toxic parts of the hustle, achiever mentality that defines us. The constant comparisons. The feeling like we’re not “doing enough”. The brass ring that we keep reaching for. The disheartening realization that there was never a brass ring to begin with.
I kept delaying any sort of non-career gratification until I reached some arbitrary level of success. I kept telling myself that I’d get to family, and friends, and dating once I established my 401k. Eventually, it got to the point where I told myself I didn’t want any family, friends, or partners at all. And some of that is still true. I still don’t want kids or marriage. But I do want more life experience. More time with loved ones. More moments to breathe.
My grandmother was the one person in my very “success”-oriented, driven family who sort of disapproved of me going to grad school. She would, in her way, tell me that there were other things in life. To make room for them. To enjoy them.
One of the last things she told me was that she hoped that she’d live long enough to see me get married. Very Bongseon of her lol. Even with all of the confidence that I have in my life and independence, part of me feels like I failed her in some way by not getting married before she died. Part of me also feels like I’m failing my parents by choosing not to give them grandchildren.
And part of me is questioning all of that after having met AMOMK Yoongi in real life.
Let me stress that this is all brand new. Like, one week new. I am not in love. I am not in a relationship. But I am dating again. I’m exploring what it is to share time and space with possibilities.
This exploration is not the only thing that’s taken some time away from this blog. I recently got a promotion at work, and I am now the youngest person on the senior management team. And my team of direct reports has grown by four people in the past month alone, with more growth coming in the rest of the year. Along with that has come more responsibility and latitude, which has allowed me to start making moves that I’ve been dreaming of making since I first started this job five years ago.
But, as with all things, it balances out. It comes with costs. I’ve been having more meetings. Lots more show-and-tell at work. I’ve definitely been writing, but I haven’t been posting. And I’ve missed you.
Have I said that yet? I’ve missed you.
Yes, You.
You, with your beautiful brain and gorgeous smile and melodious laugh. I’ve missed reading your stories, seeing your art, reblogging your posts, and joining you in the comments. I’ve missed the inside jokes. I’ve missed the memes. I can’t imagine what brilliant things await me when things settle back down a bit.
And I keep thinking of what I was processing when BTS announced their hiatus. Specifically, what Yoongi and Namjoon said about regarding living more life in order to have something to say. And though I already had a lot to say, and was smack-dab in the middle of saying it, a dear friend told me last night, “If you spend a lot of time reading and writing about sex, it might be nice to have more opportunities to actually have it irl?”
It’s funny how this fanfiction thing has opened up my world. In addition to falling even deeper for our boys, I’ve gotten to meet You. All these wonderful people in our community. I’ve jumped into cars and onto planes to see you. To share ideas with you. To laugh with you. To learn and change with you. To be inspired by you. Hopefully you’ve had some fun, too.
But now, I’m changing in a different way. I’ve always written a lot, but I don’t say much. I’ve been told that I can be a lot (read: Kittenfishing, Hideaway, pretty much any one of my Y/Ns lol). But now, I’m talking more. Sharing more of myself.
Not through Y/N. But as me.
I’m pleasantly surprised that people actually want to hear what I have to say... not just on the page, but nestled in the soft walla of forks scraping against plates and wine being poured and regulars seething about where the hell all these new people came from.
And I’m breaking out of that achiever cycle. That delayed gratification loop. There is an addictive thrill to staying up until 4 AM because I was on a writer’s high -- and PLEASE believe I will absolutely still do that lol. But I’m balancing that out with not waiting until I finish my next chapter before checking in with my friends or hanging with my family.
So a week after my grandmother passed away, two things happened.
I got a promotion.
And I got on Hinge.
We all know the steps. I’m admittedly a master at the first part. The resume-building part. Achiever Me has it down to a science. Literally. If you’ve read my fic Matchmaker, then you know, lol.
I know my style. And I know the typical rules. I posted the necessary pics. Selfie, so you see my face. Wide shot, so you see my body. One cute. One flirty. Casual. Formal. With my family and friends, so you know my values. With emoji, so I protect their privacy. Blah blah blah.
I know the type of people who will gravitate toward me. Years of 20% wanted and 80% of unwanted advances have taught me a lot.
But I had fun with it, too.
Dearest Roomie / @mochilatae gave me 3 sets of numbers, and those determined what prompts I’d answer. When I got the prompt to do my best celebrity impression, I did one of Popeye.
Apart from all the fuckbois who liked my pics, only 3 responded to my impression in the first few days.
The Dad.
The Grad Student.
And The Teacher.
The Dad
The Dad was the first to reach out. In our BTS shorthand, he’s bboy Yoongi. Sneakers. Backwards fitted. Maybe a bit of Jungkook, what with his tattoos and a camera in hand. I shouldn’t have engaged, seeing that he has a kid. But he responded to my Popeye clip with, “ 🤔 Hmm, needs work. Jk.”
I’m an Asian, Millennial woman. I’m used to negging. And I love enemies to lovers tropes. So maybe I kinda like it, if done a certain way. The Dad is actually a sweet guy. So I Matched.
We’ve talked about a lot since then. Life’s funny turns. How tired we’re starting to feel at the end of the day. The best places to get Chinese food.
Had it not been for this conversation, I would’ve deleted the app altogether.
The Grad Student
The Grad Student was the next to reach out. He isn’t actually a grad student, but he’s a carbon copy of an old labmate. Same cloth, mere threads apart. It’s very, very odd. Even his voice is the same as my labmate’s. I could hear it when he responded to my Popeye clip with, “My God that was perfect! Can you do Olive Oil as well? 😊”
He asked me out first, and he very interestingly suggested one of my usual hangouts from -- you guessed it -- when I was in grad school. It all seemed comfortable, and familiar. But almost too familiar. I told friends that it felt like I’d done all this before. I’m fluent in his language. I could tell his interests just by looking at him. I was feeling very Celeste in Celeste + Jesse Forever. But I also felt the cultural gulf that I sometimes feel in this situation -- most concerning, the fear of being fetishized as an Asian, Millenninal woman.
There’s an episode of the podcast Reply All called The Fever, which shares some stories about a creepy white dude who essentially socially collected Asian women. (Incidentally, this podcast episode was shown to me a few years ago by a white dude, but he did not collect me or any other Asian women.) Tbh, after listening to this episode, I kinda shut down the idea of dating at all.
Needless to say, being presented with The Grad Student made me a little nervous.
We got drinks last Thursday, and... it turned out to be a good time. He’s so... nice? But not braggadociously so. He’s not suave, like the dude from The Fever, or West Elm Caleb. He bumbles, which is funny, given that we’re on Hinge. The night started with him sincerely apologizing for getting a beer before I had arrived, and it ended with him texting me a sincere apology for not walking me to my car in the middle of the night in the middle of the city. Not that those things ultimately mattered to me though. I guess it’s a good sign that he thought of those things at all.
I’m not letting my guard down, but it’s starting to counter that fear of being fetishized. His genuineness has a charm. And we connected on a lot, most importantly the desire to lead a nontraditional kind of life. He doesn’t want kids either. He values his independence. And he’s tired of the expectations (and then mocking of those expectations) that have been foisted upon our generation. I left feeling confused... but optimistic that maybe I wasn’t too late to the scene... that I had something to offer... and that maybe I wouldn’t get fake-collected and real-murdered while out here trying to connect with people.
That maybe people had something to offer me back.
He asked me out again for dinner on Wednesday.
That was last night.
The Teacher
After things went well with the Grad Student, I wondered if I should set something up with the other two guys who had reached out. I was already hanging out with my brother and his girlfriend Saturday night and Sunday morning, so I decided I’d jam-pack the rest of that weekend with social activity. Like my 4am writer’s highs, I figured I’d just get it all done in one go. Ride the bit of extroverted energy that was propelling me forward.
Why wait?
I asked The Dad, with whom I had been talking the longest, if he wanted to get coffee on Saturday afternoon. He said yes, and we picked a place.
I then asked The Teacher if he wanted to hang on Sunday. we had been talking a lot, ever since he said of my Popeye impression, “Pretty good lol”. He also said yes, and we picked a place.
On Saturday, I posted up at one of my favorite coffee shops and wrote for a little bit.
20 mins before we were set to meet, I got a message from The Dad. He wasn’t going to be able to make it. Family stuff. Understandable.
When I got home from hanging out with my brother and his girlfriend, I checked in with The Teacher. He said he was definitely down to hang.
The Teacher scares me a little bit.
He’s 100% AMOMK Yoongi. Not just in personality, look, or style (and, trust me, eerily so, especially to Soundcheck Yoongi). But because of the connection that we seem to have regarding the core details from my life that I’ve injected into AMOMK.
See, the Teacher really is a teacher. Specifically, he’s a middle school teacher. And he teaches at the middle school that I went to here in town. The middle school that is the basis for the school that AMOMK Namjoon and Yoongi teach at. Drive past it, and you’ll see the baseball diamond bleachers that AMOMK Jin gets ogled at in the beginning of Chapter 01, and the parking lot leading to the entrance to the band hall in the beginning of Chapter 03. You know what’s really scary? You might even see a red sedan. Like the one that AMOMK Yoongi and Namjoon share donuts on the hood of... and the one that The Teacher just happens to drive.
Have you seen the movie Ruby Sparks? (Another appearance of Chris Messina. Hmm. Interesting.) I certainly don’t advocate for the toxic aspects of control and will, but that awed feeling of seeming manifestation... I was starting to feel that awe when we were texting about these hometown details. And it was starting to solidify into a genuine feeling of bewilderment when we realized we also lived within 15 minutes of each other when we were younger, and that we went to the same high school at around same time.
The Teacher showed up.
He showed up early, actually.
We originally planned for 4, but he said that he’d gotten done with his errands and would now be free at 3:30.
We met for sushi, and I had one of the best conversations I’ve ever had in my entire life.
The content. Music, books, life, family, being Asian, being an immigrant, being first gen, being oldest siblings, being first gen oldest siblings, dating, movies, music, fashion, TV shows, comedy, writing, music, work, oh, and music. He said he listens to everything. I said I listen to everything. We both highly doubted that the other listened to everything. We both learned that we both listen to everything.
The little moments. Me accidentally dropping my phone, and then my chopsticks, and saying sorry or looking worried, and him just smiling and tilting his head and saying, “For what?” Or us talking about the disdain for how short songs are now to encourage streaming, Harry Styles’ use of a melody reminiscent of A-ha’s “Take on Me”, and the bright smile we’d flash each other as we stopped talking each one of the seven times the song played on the speakers during our-- 4-hour conversation?
When did 4 hours pass??
Did I want to go somewhere to get drinks?
Yes.
And the big moments. Us sitting down at another one of my old hangouts from grad school, which just happened to be 5 mins away, and us talking about our motivations. Passions. PDA.
The Teacher: I’m not really one for PDA.
Me: Me either. (remembering something) Ugggghh! OK, so my brother and his girlfriend do this thing when they’re hanging out where one of them will go, "Uh-oh! My love meter is empty!” And the other one will go, “Oh no!” And they’ll scurry over to them and hug them and kinda squeeze and jostle them while going, “boop-boOP-BOOP-BOOP-BOOP!” And then they’ll go, “All full!” and smile at each other.
The Teacher: Gross.
Me: I know! Remember how you said you wanted to emulate the relationship your parents have? I’m the same way, and I think I’ve only seen my parents kiss a handful of times. I think the most recent of them was in the Philippines during New Year’s Eve 1999.
The Teacher: Hey. Y2K. They had to. They could’ve died.
Me: (laughs) What specifically about PDA makes it uncomfortable for you, do you think? Is it like what you said about how you hate when people play their music super loud when they go to the gas station or are just out and about in public?
(The Teacher is also a grumbling grandpa, btw.)
The Teacher: Yeah, and it’s like... too showy. I like the sense that it’s saved for behind closed doors. It’s just for the other person.
Me: True. And... like... if you’re doing it all the time, it doesn’t seem as special. Not to be a huge cornball, but it loses some of its... I don’t know, it loses some of its---
Together: Magic.
I swear to you. I know I write romcom fanfiction. But this happened.
Which is why The Teacher scares me.
When it was time to go, not as an afterthought, before we even got up from our seats, he said, “It’s late. I’ll walk you to your car.”
He was wearing black, pointy boots. I could see them in my periphery because I was kinda looking down as we walked. He walked to my left, and just behind me. Kind of letting me lead. But still next to me. Like a cat.
We lingered in the hug. I thought he might be interested in a kiss. I got shy. He respected it.
Me: This was really fun. Thanks for hanging out.
The Teacher: Yeah. It was a blast.
Me: Would you want to... maybe... hang out... again?
The Teacher: Absolutely not.
(When I tell you that I cannot stop thinking about this and laughing... ugh.)
The Teacher: No, seriously though. We could hang out this weekend... or we could do mid-week, even. How about...
Me: (internally) Don’t say Wednesday. Don’t say Wednesday. Don’t say---
The Teacher: ...Thursday?
(Why wait?)
Me: Yes. Thursday.
We have texted nearly nonstop everyday since.
And I’m going out with him again in about 5 hours.
Because it is Thursday.
And that’s when the AMOMK boys go on their dates.
#about me#how i write#writing#personal#y'all i am spiraling#amomk#a map of mrs. kims#i think i'm going to hurl#a map of mrs. mins#I GUESS#cheryl feels unhinged
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Untagged Fest Fics Are Up
Hey folks! Harry Potter Fanfiction Discord is about a week into their Untagged Fest reading, and I realized I hadn't screamed about them here.
The premise: authors are assigned either characters, genres, or both and need to come up with a story between ~1200-7000 words that includes at least some of them lol. Then, they're posted with no tags except for archive warnings and we readers can just frolic through the catalogue and go in blind.
New rare pairs have been unlocked. Things you haven't tried to read (or write, if I'm gonna be honest) are tried. It's fun. And, of course, once the author reveals are up everything will be properly tagged, BUT in the meantime it's a grab bag of awesome.
We have thirty-two fics this year. I highly recommend giving them a shot.
#untagged fest#fic recs#hp#hpfc#writing fest#my writing is in here somewhere.#cookie for you if you can find me#if you have specific concerns about content#let me know and i can direct you
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like i said, u didn’t do anything wrong, but here we go!
- quotev tends to have more original fiction, and a lot of fanfiction on there is reader insert/oc insert
- it’s also a quiz site, so there are a lot of great quizzes on there (i’d say it’s the highlight of the site)
- a lot of people have copypastas in their bios (for example “99% of people would ignore this, repost if you’re against bullying”), and i don’t participate in any of those because i KNOW im against bullying i don’t need to put a pretentious copypaste thing in my bio for it
- commenting is pretty much the same as ao3, like you can comment on every chapter of a story and the author may or may not reply
- continuing the above point, there’s an additional feature where you can like comments, so you can acknowledge them without replying
but in the end, it’s just another site where you can really do whatever you want, so have fun <3
Ooooh, new site unlocked!!!! I am going to have some fun there (idk, that sounded so ominous to me and im about to go through the dark forest with 22% of my battery life left, so that might just be me lol)
Thank you much, though, that genuinely means a lot <3
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To Topple A Giant || Chapter Six
Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.
Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader
Part 6 of 10 ~ Mini-Series
Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. All trigger warnings will be listed before the chapter. This is purely fanfiction.
Warnings in this Chapter: physical assault; mentions of past sexual assault (brief); abusive parental relationship; canon violence; ANGST; mentions of attempted suicide; mentions of drugs, drug smuggling, and human trafficking; bullying and harassment; SMUT (unprotected sex; hair pulling; ass smack!; ALL THAT GOOD CONSENT; talking a lot during sex lol); 18+ ONLY PLEASE!
Word Count: 21,400+
A/N: ya’ll my timeline is completely fucked (age wise)... like... anything remotely romantic happening between Steve x Female Reader happened AFTER Infinity War when the reader was already 19-20. I just realized that my years were off in a certain flashback......... so yes, everyone knew the reader while they were still in their teens but they’re literally 26-27 present day so don’t think too much of it lmao i can’t really fix it now lol
~
An Avengers Safehouse, 2023, 10:45 pm
Every door was closed and locked for the night. You had made sure of it. A distraction now would ultimately destroy any other chance you might get, and this chance was already overdue.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you jogged down the hallways to the common room you knew he was in. He had been catching up on his reading for the past two days now, a small pinch of solace during this hectic week.
Your feet were heavy, invisible anchors shackled to your ankles and dragging you lower to the depths of that personal hell you had been burning in. Glancing over your shoulder, you measured the distance between you and your room, chest beginning to feel tight as your lungs forgot the taste of air. It was like you were walking to your own personal execution, flesh and bone ready to disconnect from your essence. But you weren’t walking toward anything dangerous - you were walking to him. To speak with him. To be with him.
You knew you saw it when everyone returned from the heist. He wasn’t himself - he regretted not using the stones for himself, possibly - you truly didn’t know why. You enjoyed the reunions and getting to reconnect with everyone. Grasping and holding Wanda in your arms was outright magical, to touch one of your best friends after nearly accepting the possibility of never doing that again - you had a similar reaction when you collapsed into Peter’s arms with the weight of those five long years.
And you knew Steve was grateful as well, he had to be, but his exclusion of you hurt. You had shrugged it off the first time - perhaps he was tired, wanted more private time to catch up with Sam and Bucky, to be with his friends as you were with yours. The second time he dismissed you, it was during a dinner. The seat beside you was empty, it wasn’t even that close to you, and he decided to skip dinner altogether.
But the third time, the most wretched of times, had shown you that something was truly wrong. This wasn’t the Steve you had grown close to these five years. He was distant, cold, a completely changed person that only spoke when absolutely necessary.
It was a nightmare, one of the worst ones you ever had, and Friday had alerted the only other room near yours - Steve’s. The knocks were loud, frantic in their purpose, and Friday unlocked the door. You were shaken awake, tugged into a chest that wasn’t as firm as the one you remembered, and soft whispers of ‘you’re okay, you’re alright’ drowned out the sounds of your panicked whimpers. You reached out to stroke the person’s face, eyes snapping open when you realized it wasn’t him, it wasn’t Steve.
‘Bucky?’ you had whispered, hands still stroking his face as he held you.
‘It’s me. You’re okay, you’re alright.’
‘Where’s Steve? Is he okay?’
Bucky immediately tensed, expression turning somber as he tried to give an acceptable explanation.
‘He’s… he’s not coming, doll.’
‘What do you mean he’s not coming? He always comes, he-”
‘Doll, hey,’ he shook his head, biting his bottom lip. ‘He’s not coming.’
The broken question of ‘why?’ had tumbled from your lips until Bucky’s rocking had calmed you enough to fall back into a deep sleep. And the next morning, Steve announced he was moving from the safehouse and back to his apartment permanently.
And it made no sense considering you two were on wonderful terms just a few weeks ago babysitting Morgan. It was like he flipped a switch and erased you from his memory.
You deserve an explanation. You deserve to have your questions answered, to see the look in his eyes as he tried to explain himself, to witness his fumbling as you caught him off guard. You deserved to know.
“Why are you avoiding me?”
The common area was illuminated by a soft, yellow light from the lamp in the corner of the room, the moonlight only shining over the kitchen. Steve sat on the lone couch near the soft light, book in his lap and already half-way read.
No one really snuck up on him - no one had the chance to with his enhanced hearing - but you succeeded. The book nearly fell from his lap, a hitch in his breath alerting you that he really wasn’t expecting anyone. He set the book down on the nearby table and slowly stood up. “I’m not avoiding you.”
You will not cry right now.
You scoffed, “So, leaving a room when I walk in is just a common occurrence now? What about avoiding me completely? You don’t say good morning, you don’t tell me hello, you don’t even sit near me anymore-”
“It’s late, and these briefings have really taken a toll on me, agent.” Steve sighed and avoided your eyes as he walked right past you and into the kitchen.
He hadn’t actually done it, but that certainly was a slap in the face. The invisible shackles wrapped around your ankles were pulling harder, drowning you in your grief.
You mindlessly whipped your head at him, watching as he grabbed the milk carton and proceeded to do absolutely nothing with it. You clenched your teeth, “Agent?”
He did not immediately correct himself. The room was now deathly silent, minus the quick breaths under your nose. “Are you fucking serious?”
“Don’t make this into something it’s not.”
Your forehead strained from the pained expression you held, tears brimmed and burning as they threatened to fall. You walked towards him and tried to keep a steady demeanor, anger drowning your veins the quickest it ever has. “What is it then? ‘Cause you’ve been calling me by my real name for the last five years! You’re my friend!”
Everytime your name slipped from his mouth it made you like him more. His presence was no longer uncomfortable or forced, but rather calming and needed. This friendship was built high and mighty these five years, walls seemingly strong. You worried there was true vulnerability in those foundations.
Speaking to Rhodey or Bruce just wasn’t the same as speaking to Steve. Helping him take out the trash, buying coffee for one another, asking the other what they wanted to watch on television. But now your name was absent from his voice, restrained and gutted from existence as if to purposely hurt your now healing mind.
Steve ignored the desperate portion of your argument, “It’s time to focus on the new threats this world faces-”
“What are you talking about? Why are you shutting me out like I’m not important to you?”
His jaw tensed, eyes still distant. “I’m not shutting you out. I’m saying we need to focus on the fights we thought we left behind-”
“You mean my dad? Because I’m pretty fucking sure he’s looking to only kill me.”
“Don’t joke about that-”
You had no physical control now. The anger was at its boiling point, seeping through the corners of your eyelids and corners of your mouth. “Joke about what? Why are you not letting me in?”
Steve gripped the counter, head hanging low but voice powerful enough to shake through you. “Stop interrupting me!”
A solitary tear hit the floor beneath you, voice now wobbly and unsure of its chosen words. “What happened to you?”
Steve remained silent for only a moment, hands still gripping the expensive granite. “Nothing happened.”
He ran his right hand down his face to relieve some of the tense muscles. He continued to speak.
“Now that everyone’s back and the same threats are picking up where they left off, I’ve got bigger problems on my hands.”
You scoffed again, “Oh, so now Scott’s time heist has another negative consequence?”
In a matter of a millisecond, Steve turned suddenly and was now towering over you. Your back instantly straightened. “Don’t be smart with me. You know what this means.”
You just looked up at him, eyes slightly fogging up but the rest of your face still determined. You spoke low, searching his face for any indication that he would swing. No, he wouldn’t. Ever. “Spell it out for me then. I’m still seething from not hearing my first name yet.”
Steve ignored your quip, “Now that your father’s back, we need to finish what we started.”
You stared at him in disbelief, “You don’t think he’s actually going to pick up where he left off, right? Not now!”
“He already has. Fury notified me through a secure channel,” Steve declared, stepping away from you as his mind finally rewired.
You instinctively wrapped your arms around your torso, “No…”
“Business as usual.”
Your voice raised an octave, desperation now dousing your plea of ignorance, “No, you’re lying. You’re a goddamn liar!”
“Calm down, agent. This isn’t the time-”
It was your turn to crowd Steve, stepping toward him and pushing him backwards. Your mind told you to not touch him, that he never touched you, and that it was horribly wrong. But his blank face prompted another push, your body acting on its own will.
“Agent? Agent! Steve, what the fuck is going on?”
His voice was deeper, “If you yell one more time-”
“You’ll what?”
Neither of you spoke. In that moment, you wondered if anyone had heard this fight as you and Steve weren’t exactly being quiet. You knew your voice traveled down several hallways and his strong one practically shook the floors. So you pushed that thought to the back of your cramped brain, head held high and eyes boring into Steve’s.
“Now that you got your old friends back, I’m useless. Is that right?”
His eyes widened, “Where in the hell is that coming from?”
“I’m right, right? You don’t want to be my friend anymore, I was a rebound all these years?”
Steve started shaking his head, eyes closed as he tried to calculate the best possible response. He could feel his lungs burn, almost like they did before the serum, and he realized he was throwing himself into a panic attack. It tickled its way up his throat, clenching the sides and dragging its nails across the sensitive surface.
You were still speaking.
“You know, you’re still pissed that the first name I spit out to Fury when I went undercover was yours. You never wanted to help me with it.”
“Don’t start-”
You knew you shouldn’t have continued, this argument proved childish since he first called you by an old, nameless nickname. But it seemed he had no intention of apologizing or providing you with an explanation for his sudden absence.
“You’re still fuming about it. You’re still fuming about your image being ruined. Good ol’ Captain America as a secret, undercover drug dealer!”
Steve finally showed proof of cracking, hands gripping his hair harshly. “Y/N, I said don’t start! I’m finished!”
But you persisted, now screaming and countless, frustrated tears tainting your red cheeks. “You can’t fucking stand me because I tarnished that fucking star on your chest! I made you look bad to a bunch of fucking criminals!”
Steve grabbed the nearest object, the coffee maker Tony had bought for their six year formation anniversary, and flung it across the room. It shattered into the wall, leftover cold coffee staining the peach paint, the glass littered over the floor. “That’s enough!”
The sound of its impact made your stomach churn. You were frozen in place, almost certain that Steve would throw you next, and your legs were suddenly cold. “Who are you?”
“I don’t know anymore,” Steve choked out, tears forming in his eyes as well. His chest rapidly raised and lowered, his breathing becoming erratic. Even he wondered why no one had come to check up on you two.
For the sake of Steve’s sanity, you whispered your next reply.
“You hate me that much-”
“Y/N-”
And you were suddenly overpowered by a sense of calm acceptance. “You hate me so much that you can’t even stand to look at me.”
“Please...”
“I’m finished, too. From now on… you’re my Captain. I’m just an agent. I’ll answer your call to help fight. That’s it.”
You had thought he would drop to his knees and apologize. This Steve wasn’t your Steve - not that Steve or any part of him was ever yours - but it was almost impossible to comprehend such a blank set of emotions from the same man who helped you with laundry, remembered the captions of your photo posts and teased you about them later, or casually sketched your outline in his sketchbook. He began to disregard your kindness, your presence, your voice the moment Wanda held Vision’s face as he whispered his goodbye, as she got her closure, as she had to say goodbye for the thousandth time.
But nothing could prepare you for his quick acceptance of your offer.
“I think that’s for the best.”
You nodded slowly, arms falling to your sides. It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did - hell, you didn’t love the guy - but he was so much more than just a colleague now. You had literally saved the world together. He was your shoulder to cry on and you were his. Did you love him?
“Just so you know, I wasn’t faking any of it.”
Steve looked as if he was going to say something but closed his mouth. You swore you could see his bottom lip trembling, but he remained still. He stared anywhere but your face.
You turned to leave, body ready to give away and tumble into the mound of pillows calling your name. But you held yourself up at the doorway, turning back to Steve and meeting his eyes - he was already watching you walk away.
You swallowed hard, “And I’ll be the honest one here, tonight - you were the only thing stopping me from putting a bullet in my head for five years.”
Present Day, 2025, 7:02am
You awoke startled, your gasp a little raspy as it sounded off in the quiet room. Your internal clock was already stressing you out, letting you know that you seriously had to get up now, even before your alarm rang.
Dread swam in the pit of your stomach, swirling the pound of breadsticks you had last night. Yesterday had been your last ‘in between’ day, the last day to truly map out your next steps before you actually had to execute them. You would see everyone today, tomorrow, and the next - the next the final, the endgame.
You rolled over and glanced at Steve. His bed was empty, sheets folded and pillows fluffed, and the bathroom was open and empty.
With a pinch of your eyebrows, you groaned as you flipped your legs over the side of your bed. You stilled, but there was no other sound.
Steve really wasn’t here.
For a second, you were angry. You couldn’t believe he literally left you alone, after basically defiling you and you himself, on a day that would for sure strike a major nerve in your crippling anxiety. It was low, like you were left to pick up your heels and proceed with the walk of shame down the hotel hallways.
But then the next second, you were relieved. You could take this moment to relive last night, to hatch out every single detail, to somehow make sense of just what the hell happened. It had been so fucking hot, so fucking overdue, and god, did you want to do it again. Steve’s absence allowed you to squeal in both delight and disbelief.
You had fondled… had sex with?... humped?... your literal Captain. Sure, you had crossed a boundary in this ten-year friendship and rivalry, a boundary that was now completely exed out and erased really, but it wasn’t literal sex. Right?
It was certainly something if you had learned one thing from Sex Ed 101. Intimacy was intimacy. Yeah, you and Steve shared… intimacy.
It took all your willpower to shrug off the rest of the blankets and start getting ready. There wasn’t much to do except hope that your guns didn’t jam or Seda didn’t ambush you. Quickly shooting off a text to Wanda, you waited for her much needed call.
‘Hey, what’s up?’
You let out a long hum, face lifted toward the ceiling as you thought about how you would phrase last night’s events to her. “So, like, I’m gonna kill myself.”
‘Back up. Explain?’
“Ahhhhh, Wanda! I fucked up. We fucked up.”
Wanda’s voice sounded frantic, ‘Did the mission go wrong? Where’s Scott? Steve? Torres?’
You groaned, stomping your foot like the literal child you were. “Wanda, me and Steve did something last night.”
Wanda was silent for a few moments, her quick breaths evening out as she collected her thoughts. ‘Are you trying to tell me, that while trying to tell me you had sex with Steve last night, you made it sound like we would have had to all suit up to save your asses all the way across the country?’
Grateful she couldn’t see you blush, you responded as if you were trying to still keep the events a secret. “Well, when you put it like that!”
‘Did you and Steve actually…?’
“No, no! But we… touched and stuff.”
‘Is this high school? Spit it out.’
It was basic instinct to inspect the room again before you admitted it. “We sort of just, got each other off. Like, handjobs and such.”
Wanda let out a sound that resembled both a groan and a chuckle. ‘High school.’
You threw yourself back into bed, rolling around and throwing pillows all over the place. “It was so hot.”
‘You don’t need to give me the specifics.’
“Who else am I supposed to talk with? Bucky?”
Wanda choked on her laugh, ‘Okay, okay. I see your point.’
“What does this mean?” you asked both her and yourself.
‘I’m gonna tell you something that you might not like to hear, okay?’
“Ugh, don’t scare me.”
Wanda chuckled before she continued, ‘This doesn’t surprise me.’
You practically strained your back from snapping up from bed so quickly. “What do you mean ‘you’re not surprised’?”
There was slight shuffling on the other line. ‘I owe Peter fifty dollars.’
You huffed loudly, “What do you mean by that, Wanda?”
Wanda sighed, ‘Look, we weren’t here during those five years. We weren’t here to see you two together. But Bruce told us how you two were during that time. Even when you were ignoring each other for months after, you didn’t hesitate to protect each other.’
You shook your head, as if she could see you. “He abandoned me for a good while.”
Wanda interrupted, ‘You saved him at the height of your fighting.’
You rolled your eyes, “He’s my Captain, of course I saved him.”
‘You didn’t have to.’
Your thoughts were flying at a hundred miles an hour, colliding with one another at top speeds. You opted to forgo that memory. It was shelved, to be revisited later.
Changing the subject to a much less dramatic topic, the phone call lasted for another fifteen minutes before you seriously had to finish getting ready.
The talk helped. But it didn’t answer any questions you had. The answers lay in the one place you really didn’t want to explore right now. Maybe after breakfast.
Scott stumbled out of the elevator with very sleepy eyes, fingers still digging into their corners as he made his way to the hotel bar. Steve was seated in the farthest chair from the entrance just casually sipping orange juice.
“What was so urgent that I had to wake up before my alarm?” Scott groaned as he slid into the seat beside him.
Steve’s eyes were glued to his drink. He was bouncing his leg wildly. “I’m sorry, I just…”
It didn’t take a genius to know that when someone was nursing an orange juice in the hotel bar, head hanging low and with a massive pout, there was something incredibly wrong. “Shit, I’m sorry. I’m just cranky when I have to get up early.”
Steve waved his hand, “No, don’t apologize. I get it. I mean it.”
Scott ordered his own glass. He spread his lips into a thin line, “Did you want to talk? I’m a great listener. I could listen to Luis go on for hours on end.”
“I need to tell someone.”
“I’m all ears.”
Steve hesitated for only a second, downing the orange juice as if it was a shot. He ordered another. “I kissed Y/N last night.”
“Are you serious?” Scott’s eyes widened and he gurgled his juice on accident. He didn’t know what to say. Congratulations?
“And we messed around a little bit.”
Now Scott tilted his head to the side and gave the super soldier an amused glare. “Messed around? What is this, the third grade?”
Steve cringed, “I hope to God no third graders are messing around.”
His juice was long forgotten now. “Then call it like it is, Captain. You ‘serviced the Venus’, you ‘made whoopee’, you -”
“That’s calling it like it is?”
“Am I wrong?”
“Very. We just… touched and stuff.”
Steve’s awkward hand gestures caused Scott’s lip to twitch itself into a weird smile. “You ‘cleaned your rifle’? You did the ‘loop-de-loop?”
“Where in the hell are you getting these things from? You think we actually talked like this back in the forties?” Steve covered his ears and lay his forehead against the counter.
“Sorry, sorry. I was just having a little fun.” Scott apologized, trying to make eye contact even as Steve’s head was lowered. “Sorry, no fun.” Still, Steve remained sheltered. “Damn, man. Did something else happen that you’re not telling me?”
Finally, Steve turned his head to look at Scott but left it resting against the counter. “I feel like we crossed a line.”
“You technically violated the mission code of ethics, but.”
Steve snapped up and covered his face with his hands, index fingers pinching the corners of his eyes. “But kissing her didn’t feel wrong. Holding her didn’t feel wrong.”
Scott was in the middle of a rom com. He had to be. There was always that scene where one of the partners freaked out because they themselves didn’t know their own feelings. They would cower in their own little world for about fifteen minutes, or at least fifteen minutes of screentime, and then gain the courage to talk it through. Scott was just that random friend who happened to ask what was wrong.
But you and Steve were his teammates. The two of you had helped him get his family back. You had been so excited to try out the time machine, shutting everyone else up as they bullied him for simply having the idea. Steve risked his life for him more times than he could count in the past two years. He always suspected something was wrong between the two of you. But no one was brave enough to openly speak about what had happened that night. He just knew what Sam had told him - ‘It’s none of our business. They’re both acting like children. But Steve, even though I love him with all my heart, royally fucked up.’
“Then why are you so worried? Steve, I wasn’t around those five years. Only you know your relationship with her.”
“I don’t deserve it,” Steve mumbled.
His ears were playing tricks. He had gone deaf. “Huh?”
Steve explained further, his face falling with each new confession he spoke verbally. He hadn’t even discussed these feelings with his therapist. Granted, he only spoke of you when you were being a pain in his ass, but romantically? “I don’t deserve to touch her, to have her, to be with her. I left her alone at her most vulnerable, and that you were here for so you know.”
Scott shook his head, “But I have no real say in that. Like I said, only you know what you feel.”
He finished his juice and leaned back in his chair. He clapped a hand on Steve’s shoulder and they both turned their attention to the tiny television mounted on the wall playing the morning news. It was hard to believe that a couple years ago, Scott had completely fangirled over being in Steve’s presence. Now he was one of his closest friends.
His next thought seemed to register slowly and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Wait, did you leave her to wake up alone?”
Steve paused and bit down on his tongue. “I, may have done that.”
Scott nodded as he received the confirmation. “You know, Bucky and Wanda have a bet going on over which of you will kill the other first. I think you tipped the victory to her, man.”
Steve returned the slap to the shoulder and stood up. “Thanks, Scott.”
He followed Steve out the entrance. “I don’t feel like this conversation is over, but you gotta go back up there. I’m always here if you want to talk.”
Steve sent him a genuine smile as he walked backwards to the stairs instead of the elevator. “Don’t bring it up.”
Scott saluted him, “I may be an idiot, but I’m not stupid.”
“That didn’t make any-”
Scott clicked the button for the elevator and waved Steve off, “It’s from a show my daughter used to watch, hey, you know what, forget about it.”
Steve doesn’t quite know what propels him up the stairs instead of the elevator, but it’s probably the need to burn at least one calorie before facing the music. It was an idiotic move leaving you alone to unravel such a major change, and Steve was tired of running. The amount of times he claimed he could ‘do this all day’ and yet, he let the final battle dictate his life afterward. He was just so tired of running from things that required him to stay, and staying for things that destroyed his mental health.
Scott carried the conversation as they reentered the room, finding you already dressed and smiling bright. But that smile was directed at Scott, a brilliant smile that Steve had been the recipient of just yesterday.
God, he really fucked up, didn’t he?
“We got a plan?”
It was like clockwork, movements fluid and known. The three of you were slightly out of it, missions depleting in urgency and all. The last mission you had been on in the last two years, besides the ones your father sent you on, had been to a base in Prague where you ran a two-week surveillance on a doctor who was trying to recreate the super soldier serum. Even then there wasn’t much of a physical fight and you were mainly there to assist Sam and Bucky.
“We’ll get there by 9. You’ll have to shrink down before we even pass the gates.”
Scott drafted the specifics in his notebook, taking careful notes on what he was to look for inside your father’s office. He was instructed to hack the keyboard to list the most used formations of characters, scan for fingerprints, and work through the paper files your father hadn’t yet had time to put away. Once a password was figured out, then the hacking would commence during the rehearsal dinner.
“Y/N and I will be led through the estate by Seda, no doubt. Once you hear that we’re seated and enjoying breakfast, you can start your deep search.”
Scott added the finishing touches to his suit - upgrades from both Hank and Tony, before he passed of course.
“Anything I should know? I’m going in blind while you guys have some experience with this crowd.”
You attached the camouflage mic to the back of your neck as you responded, “His office hallway doesn’t have cameras. Neither does the inside. You, as well as Steve and I, are under strict orders to not kill anyone.”
Scott squinted his eyes, “I wasn’t planning on doing that anyway.”
You chuckled, “These are violent people, Scott. In order to win, we need to play the part. Which means unless we say the safe word ‘widow’, you can’t intervene.”
Scott searched your face for a joke, the briefing you all had before you shipped out replaying in his head. You had mentioned Seda shot you and that your father basically hated you, but to see you serious now - it was a little unnerving. Sure, he fought aliens and faced off against some of the most evil forces in the universe. But this was family, and when it was family with the evil gene, it made everything much more horrible.
“Okay.”
You all gathered your equipment and headed down to the car. Steve safely hid the shield in the trunk, foregoing any additional weapons than those already attached to his person. He couldn’t risk Ernesto’s men randomly searching the car during breakfast.
You were already waiting in the passenger seat when Scott gripped Steve’s arm as they finished loading the trunk.
“You protect her, alright?”
Steve swallowed the lump in his throat. He knew Scott wasn’t doubting his ability to do so, but his trust was being enlisted. There wasn’t even a second option.
Steve would grip the heavens by their feet and pull for the creation of even more fallen angels just for you.
“I will.”
The drive to the estate was a lot less stressful this time. Only because you knew who to expect now. You wouldn’t be catching up with your sister until tomorrow, and you already had an idea what your father was scheming up. The three of you just drove in silence, Steve at the wheel and Scott in the backseat.
You thought, maybe Steve didn’t fully regret what happened after all. Leaving in the morning was for sure a dick move, but his attitude wasn’t one of someone who would simply ‘hit it, and quit it’. You took pride in what you knew about your Captain, about Steve as a separate entity, and you always expected the best from him.
Anyone who thought or assumed otherwise was an idiot.
Scott had shrunk down and prepared his own mics as Steve drove onto the deserted dirt road. There were dozens of cars parked outside, but it looked as if their owners were all workers. Considering the wedding was only two days away and the rehearsal dinner was tomorrow, the workers multiplied and were working overtime. Leave it to your father to make the finishing touches at the last minute.
Once again, Seda stood outside to greet you and Steve. He looked extra chipper this morning, his aging face contorted into an almost painful smile. And you knew that whenever he smiled at you, he wasn’t harboring the greatest intentions.
“Good to see you again!”
You slung your arm through Steve’s, unconscious to the fact that Scott stood on your shoulder and hid behind strands of hair. You responded, “Careful, you’ll get cavities with that much sweetness.”
His smile fell slightly, and he looked away to roll his eyes. “Must be contagious considering you’re so full of sugar!”
“You’re weird when you’re nice.”
“Now, I was just about to say the same thing.” Seda held his hand out to Steve, delighted in the strength of his grip. “Captain.”
Steve smirked, a dangerous glint settling in his eyes. The longer hair and beard really did make him look like the anti-Cap. “Sir. Are you joining us for breakfast?”
Seda turned to walk through the open doors. “Of course. Ernesto’s business is as much mine as it is his.”
You let out a tiny snort, “Don’t think he would agree.”
Seda rotated on his heel so quickly the sound of the squeak echoed through the vast mansion. He held his finger out at you, that famous scowl you had grown accustomed to finally making its appearance. “Bite your tongue.”
In an instant, Steve gripped your cheeks and chin with one hand, holding you still to look at Seda. He hated this. He wanted to fight them now.
While you were held in place for him, Seda stepped closer. You could feel the heat of his breath. “I carried this empire while he was dirt.”
Steve’s hand was loose, but his wild look could easily be mistaken for anger toward you.
Seda’s eyes were cold, filled with an undeniable amount of hatred and selfishness, like he wanted to see you beg for forgiveness. No matter the countless times when any other human being would be crying for mercy, you never did. And Seda despised this skill with all his tainted soul.
“And look where that got you. Right back in second place.”
For the second time this week, Steve wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole.
Seda’s facial muscles flinched, but he kept his composure. There were too many outside workers wandering around, instructed already to keep their mouths shut about who employed them and were to be paid under the table. With his own tongue bitten, he muttered almost achingly. “Breakfast is this way.”
Letting go of you after Seda turned back around, Steve gently massaged the sides of your chin for a few seconds as you walked. Turning your head quickly left and right and passing a room with no traceable cameras, you caught his hand and pressed your lips gently to his knuckles. Before he could truly enjoy the gentle gesture, you pulled away. And he knew you had to. You had to.
Scott took his leave, jumping onto the nearby potted plant and connecting back with Torres.
Breakfast was served on the large patio near the west side of the estate. It overlooked a massive man-made lake, rocks circling the bank, and multiple lake chairs facing it. The estate was well hidden away in the forest, tall pine trees enveloping the illegal nature of all that was said and done. The clouds were creating a dark overcast that meant it was going to rain later, maybe soon, and it was going to be heavy. The crew outback had constructed a massive wooden canopy ‘tent’ that extended from one side of land to the other. So if it did rain on the day of the wedding, the only evidence of it would be the wetness reflecting off the soft violet lights they were just now hanging. The tables were set up, minus the chairs and wall decorations, and the staff were barely constructing the floor.
By instinct, you had already clocked the easiest exit routes and hiding places. The warehouse near the lake looked sturdy - two windows wide enough to shoot from. Steve would have to crouch down low though, so perhaps the wooden table could serve as a temporary shield.
There had to be a way to casually bring that shield to both the rehearsal dinner and wedding without raising red flags.
Seda paused and excused himself. While Steve entertained the questions of some of the men casually strolling through, you reached into your pocket and pulled out some new tech you had been dying to finally use. Tony had messed around with so many personalized gadgets for everyone. Peter had his flying spiders, Clint had his flying stars and arrows, and you had your flying butterflies. Little metallic wonders with life-like wing speed that recorded its surroundings and transcribed for your report later.
It flew gracefully, circling around the tables and even stopping on the window’s edge for a natural effect before flying near Seda and whoever he was talking to. It fluttered and settled, a small light emitting from its antennas. It would fly back once the subject chosen finished speaking.
While you waited, you wandered. You hadn’t really explored this estate since you were a child but from what you remembered, there was always something new to discover. As a kid, you had asked whoever was present, ‘Is this real?’, ‘Was it alive before?’, ‘How old is this?’.
Roman busts, paintings hanging and stored alike, the ivory tusks. Didn’t seem like your father was collecting much these days. Dust was settled and undisturbed and the stuffed animals needed a serious scrub. You honestly wouldn’t be surprised if your father had stashed away the damn tesseract at one point or another.
“Oh, yeeesss,” you whispered, scurrying to the trunk hidden below the pile of discarded tablecloths and curtains. No one else ventured to these rooms, and although there were priceless items stashed away here, they normally functioned as the children's playrooms. There was more money to be made selling drugs than selling ancient artifacts.
Just like many of the other rooms, this room was basically abandoned. No evidence of swiped fingers or anything. Your attention was drawn to the black trunk, scratched up on the left side and lock practically useless. If you remembered correctly, your iPod shuffle and middle school diary should be in here.
As corny as that sounded, perhaps the diary had something inside you could work with and use to help aid in the mission.
The trunk creaked and moaned as you lifted the lid open. You blew the excess of cobwebs away, scanning the corners quickly for any live spiders. Just in case.
You did, in fact, find the diary. But only the first ten pages were filled out and dated, detailing the story, and quote, ‘2011, what a stupid number! Can’t anything but violence happen?’
Yes young Y/N, you thought to yourself, 2012 was one hell of a year and infinitely worse than stupid little 2011.
The mountain of miscellaneous items was astounding, swirling up the childhood emotions you seriously missed. There was just something about random, mix-matched, old items that made you giddy.
When Shield returned Steve’s belongings that had been locked in storage or in the museum when he was pronounced KIA, you were the one bouncing up and down behind him as he opened the boxes. He’d inspect the old watch, pencil set, photographs, clothing item, whatever and then pass it over to you. And he’d pretend to act annoyed by your interest, but the fact that you wanted to learn more about Steve and his life before the war - it was humbling.
‘Hey, Y/N. You want to know how much porn I just found on Seda’s personal laptop?’
Your whole body was overcome by shivers. You nudged the mic to turn it up louder. “Scott, what the fuck?”
He tried to contain his laughter. ‘My mission is to hunt, gather, and hack. You’ll be pleased to know I got more than just their internet history.’
“Ew.”
A small, red velvet box shoved in the upper left hand corner caught your attention. It’s engraving showed none other than ‘Oxford University’ and that was enough to conclude this too was stolen. You chuckled at how ridiculous this all was.
Believe it or not, the most legal things in the estate were the stuffed exotic animals and tusks of ivory that had been collected before the nationwide bans.
This small box contained a few dozen coins from ancient Rome, all of different faces and years.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you mumbled, finger-fishing through the box. You made a mental note to instruct your team to also seize and catalog everything that was stolen here. Give Fury more of a headache.
The figurehead on one of the coins made you pause for a second. The artwork was not as professional as much larger engravings found on the other coins or artifacts, but the features were proud. It was of a man, curly hair and beard to match, with a prominent and strong nose. If you squint hard enough, the hair and beard were Steve’s, absolutely as he had it groomed right now. Last time Steve had grown his hair out this long he was on the run. Guess he really missed the rugged look.
But that nose. Strong and long and definitely punched to the brim many times before. The last person to set it had been Clint - and the reset had left it looking slightly crooked. Just like the man on the coin.
“What a beak you got on you, Rogers,” you smiled. You shut the box after pocketing the coin. Making sure everything else was in place, you exited and checked your mic for any unusual activity. You could hear Steve casually speaking and Scott humming under his breath.
Your little butterfly was spinning in a large circle until it spotted you. It reattached itself to your belt discreetly.
Seda marched back, looking more annoyed than when he had first greeted you. “Shall we?”
Similar to how he was situated back in his office, comfortable and relaxed in his element, your father sat closest to the lake around the round table, no doubt enjoying the breeze aimed in his direction. The table was full of various foods - mostly fruit and drinks - but there were sides of meats and bread hidden in the pile.
Ernesto looked like an innocent old man bathed in the colorful array. He was eighty-two (if you count those five years, then he’s only seventy-seven), and it wasn’t just the fruit that made him seem innocent - with the absence of a scowl or a gun in his unbelievably steady hand, he looked like every old man on the planet. An old man with a secret.
“It’s not everyday you get to dine with the Captain America!”
Already his voice annoyed Steve. But as eloquent as ever, he responded lightly. “It’s an honor, sir.”
Your father sipped his juice, waiting until you were both seated to continue. “So polite, I remember how it used to be.”
Steve shrugged, “The good ole’ days.”
“Exactly. You see, I’m hoping to bring those good ole’ days back.”
“Gonna run for office?” you quipped, reaching over to pop a grape into your mouth.
Keeping his eyes trained on Steve, your father retorted. “Your jokes aren’t that funny, Y/N.”
“I think I’m pretty funny,” you mumbled through a funny frown.
The sooner you get some valuable information, the sooner you could leave. At least, that’s what Steve had been reciting in his head as he bit his tongue at your attempt at being funny. “What did you have in mind?”
Ernesto stretched, motioning for the men behind him to pass him some documents from a nearby table. He passed them to Steve, completely ignoring you. “You see, I’m thinking of expanding business. Not just here in the U.S and in Mexico, but across the Atlantic.”
You resisted the urge to sneak a peek at the documents. So you opted to keep him talking. “Woah, you’re not thinking of toppling White, are you?”
Ernesto scoffed, “You think I have a death wish? No, I’m thinking of joining forces.”
You played dumb. “What?”
Seda squinted, stepping forward and gripping your wrist mid-air, evidently stopping you from popping another grape into your mouth. Steve turned his head to stare at Seda with a real and deep grimace, basically instructing him to let go of you as soon as possible. Acting like an asshole when your father was the instigator was one thing, and he hated that he had to bend over for him. But Seda wasn’t in charge, nor would he ever be again, and his hand on you didn’t have to be tolerated. Yes, he knew to keep up the asshole act, but obsessive and protective boyfriend fit the bill as well, he assumed.
Reluctantly, Seda got the message and let you go. He answered your question after a few awkward seconds, “Expanding into Europe means we dominate the world. Everyone knows that. Europe is the epicenter.”
Oblivious to the whole stare down, you resumed your questioning. “And we come in, where?”
“Your missions - they take you across the ocean, yes?” your father chimed in.
“Sometimes, sir. We’re away pretty often.” Steve answered.
“Then that’s perfect. All those opportunities to smuggle my product on your company planes.”
You scrunched your eyebrows in deep thought, almost like you were doing the math in your head. “I doubt the quinjet would pass a weight inspection, Father.”
Ernesto raised his hands in mock offense. “Your Captain here should be able to pull some strings, no?”
Hiding his discomfort, Steve shrugged like it was no big deal. “It would certainly be a difficult task but we can pull through.”
No. Steve has never handled the product, he has never seen the product being moved, he has never signed off on anything pertaining to said product. Fury did - Fury set up everything, he made sure to keep Steve out of it, he protected the shield, he protected Steve. On your word.
Ernesto knew you were the one handling it. He knew Steve wasn’t anywhere near it since you made it abundantly clear that he only green lit the passage routes.
He was doing this on purpose. Testing Steve’s loyalty in a way. Tying any Avenger’s gadgets to the smuggling, especially transportation methods that were rarely, if ever checked when entering a foreign country, was a violation. And this violation would then make every Avenger a drug smuggler - a real one - and no one, not even Torres could back you up.
Blinded by this possible reality, you countered with the best argument you had. “He’s ‘Captain America’. Which means he stays within our borders.”
Ernesto paused mid-drink, a grin forming. He stared at you in surprise, “I’m sorry, did you just give me an order?”
You backtracked, breath still steady. Steve tried to mask his worry by also drinking. “No, I’m trying to help you. What about Ramirez?”
“Curiosity killed the cat.”
It was silent for a long while. Steve knew better than to come between the uncomfortable glares you and your father were sharing. Ernesto’s answer was confirmation enough for your proposed theory.
He ventured a glance at Seda, who was already looking at him. Confusion rattled him to the bone, but before he could dissect any possible assumption as to why, your father snapped his fingers.
Seda moved too quickly. He always followed Ernesto’s orders like they were holy commandments, but he had seriously wanted this. He was the muscle after all.
Seda picked you up out of your seat with the force of one hand, fingers gripped under your chin and squishing your cheeks painfully. With his other hand, he pushed your back forward and held you down on the table. The impact of your body had shattered the plate beneath your chest. But that pain was minimal compared to the elbow digging in between your shoulder blades.
Almost as quickly as Seda had pounced, Steve was standing. The sound of every gun on the patio cocking rang in his ears, but god forbid that be louder than the sudden squeal that had left your mouth from the force of your assault.
“See? I give the orders,” Ernesto said, still sitting casually in his seat. “Now, test me again.”
“There are worse ways to go.”
Natasha was always so calm during these types of situations. A blank face that disguised the true fright she really felt, a mask in other words. But Steve knew the only reason she did that was for the benefit of those around her, regular civilian or superhero alike. She would always keep such a calm demeanor, voice steady and eyes boring into one’s soul as if to transfer whatever inner peace she could find.
When he had found out Bucky was alive, unresponsive and an empty shell of a man HYDRA had made him, he crumbled into the panic attack he had long awaited. Being thrust into the 21st century without a lick of his past was one thing. But to barely start getting used to this new world, only to be handed the most crazy plot twist of his life, well, it was enough to destroy whatever progress he thought he made.
And while he rocked himself through it, massive shoulders poking his jawline uncomfortably as he curled in on himself, Natasha had simply laid a cup of tea in front of him and retreated to the other corner of the room, no words exchanged. Good, because he didn’t want to talk about it.
“Is everyone on?”
The planes were being loaded at the fastest rate they could, the only remaining Avengers on land being him, Natasha, and Clint. From what he could see.
“I gotta go get Banner. You head on over to Clint.”
And they functioned like that for the next few minutes, grabbing civilians along the way and praying they themselves would make it to one of those planes. The sudden shower of bullets crushed the hope of that, and Steve stared down at Pietro with an immense guilt about not getting there sooner.
Losing a teammate, even if that teammate was recruited just a day ago, always hits hard. But they were the Avengers, and if any comic book or superhero movie had been right, then no one ever really died! Yeah, fat chance.
Steve counted as many heads as he could. He saw Natasha off to the side, and Clint had just stumbled on, and Y/N was-
Wait, where were you?
Steve grabbed his shield and hooked it onto his back, running off the plane and back onto the floating land, ignoring Clint’s yells of ‘get the fuck back here, Rogers!’
“Does anyone have eyes on Y/N?”
The responses were no help; Rhodey had circled the city twice over searching for you, and there was no sign. Maybe you were with Wanda, maybe you were on another plane, maybe you were with Thor and he promised to pick you up and protect you once he catapulted himself -
‘I’m gonna need you to get your ass back on that plane, Capsicle,’ Tony yelled, interrupting himself as he made painful contact with falling debris.
Steve was on autopilot, scared out of his damn mind. He never wanted this job, he never wanted to continue working for the government, it was just war after war after war. He just wanted to find Bucky, he just wanted to settle down with a fucking cat or something, he just wanted to live the life he missed out on. But he was also hell bent on saving everyone he could. A sick satisfaction of using the serum’s gifts for what he was built for, a science project and weapon of war. He hated it, he wanted to shrivel back down to his ninety-pound self and pay a goddamn penny for a movie screening again.
But he had a job to do and he was one of the few people on earth who could actually accomplish it. So, no - Steve will not quit when people need him. He’ll just have to bear it some other way; belt in between his teeth as he clenches down. Because Steve would literally destroy himself for any of his teammates until he was nothing but a pile of discarded remains.
“What the hell are you still doing on land, Captain?”
He whipped his head to the side and found you, holding a frightened looking dog in your arms, smudges of rubble covering your cheeks and bodysuit. “Oh my god.”
You stomped over to him, the dog clutched to your chest and a tiny limp in your step. “Answer me, Rogers!”
Steve only stared, blinking quickly until an invisible boot kicked him back into gear. His voice was high-pitched as he screamed at you. “You went back for the dog?”
Your face contorted, “Of course I went back for the fucking dog!”
A ridiculous thing, an utter masterpiece of work you were, a vice that gripped him by the throat and would always press down tighter until he was gasping for breath. You went back for the damn dog, and he was about to break down crying not knowing where you were. He just lost one teammate - he couldn’t lose another.
“Well, let’s go!”
Your voice seemed to shock him back into Captain America mode, and as the city leveled and the ground started to break apart, he hoisted you up and onto the plane while making the leap himself.
At this point, Steve would blindly agree to anything. If it meant pulling you out of this, he’d do it. He found himself negotiating instantly, like any other hostage situation he had dealt with. “I’m sure our planes can handle a few extra pounds.”
Made sense for Steve to agree - wasn’t like it was going to happen anyway. But the mere thought of having him take the fall for this entire mission going sideways, well, it had ignited the stupid part of your brain. You could have blown this whole mission. You could have blown it all because your father had been doing what he does best: taunting you. And you let it happen.
“I have already sent word to White that your Captain will be working with him now, too. Anything to topple Ramirez from the top three.”
You lifted your head to glare at your father. “Why didn’t I get a say? I’m as influential as you two!” You grit your teeth. “You did this without consulting us first. So, then what was this?”
Seda applied the full force of his weight, his elbow now pinching into the muscle and causing you to see black spots. You tried to restrain your scream, but it escaped. A few birds left their perch, flying away from the high-pitched noise.
Steve saw red. Bursting flames that climbed and licked up to formless heights and blurred his vision to the point he was pre-serumed, standing small and physically weak again. And pre-serum Steve would happily accept the punches he had coming if he dare intervene. But even if this red was bolstering hot and clawing at his flesh, stepping in now would mean chaos. He couldn’t do anything, he was restricted, strapped down by your own rule, and helplessly watching as your face twisted in pain.
He felt his heart tearing in two, and yet his face remained calm. Calm and collected.
“See this as a means to inform you.”
If Seda were to push down again, you figured you’d go out fighting. “A coup? Father, you shouldn’t have.”
“Do we have a deal?”
If he hooked his arm under the left side of the table and threw it at the correct angle, he would blindside your father and throw Seda off balance, allowing you to take him down. But there were men posted to both his sides and behind him, guns already cocked like they had suspected Captain America to react negatively.
Scott had to be hearing everything, the poor guy, but you had also instructed him to let you be thrown around like a ragdoll, that you were used to it. Knowing Scott, he would honor your word as scripture for the sake of the mission.
Steve couldn’t stand to look at you in pain anymore. A small part of him wanted to yell, ‘Well stop talking and he’ll get the hell off you!’, like it was ultimately your fault, but he swallowed that shallow thought and bargained instead. “I’ll be needing a copy of your word. For insurance purposes.”
If there was one thing Ernesto respected, it was a man with his own personal agenda. “I knew I liked him, Y/N. A man who knows what he wants and how to make sure it lasts.”
You reached over discreetly, finding Steve’s hand to squeeze tightly. He squeezes back.
The next few minutes were a blur, really. You passed it with pinched eyes and a few uncomfortable moans as Steve and your father wrote up a formal agreement.
Seda removed himself after Steve signed. You tried not to think too much of it; the contract can be considered void. Torres would look into it. Steve will not become truly involved.
Your father excused himself and Seda after the pen left paper, leaving the both of you alone.
Steve wanted to hold you, to shield you with his own flesh and bone, to remind you he was on your side. That he would always be on your side.
The men who escorted you were deep in their own conversations, guns still raised but minds momentarily distracted. So he reached for your hand, an involuntary chuckle escaping him as he saw Scott’s miniature self hiking up the arm he had just grabbed. Your grip was loose, like your mind was elsewhere.
You all entered the car and buckled up without alerting the men of any wrongdoings. Scott waited until you drove past the cameras and the estate grew smaller in his eyes to return to his normal size.
They were both worried, eyes meeting in the mirror as if to communicate it. You were so silent, so still, simply looking out the window. Their voices were slightly distorted, far away calls for your attention and you were drowning, suffocating and forgetting that when caught in a riptide, you need to swim sideways and not directly to land-
One quick sob was all it took for Steve to check his mirrors and turn the car into the crowd of pine trees, burying the three of you in their depth and providing temporary solace from the outside world. Your throat burned and itched with the need to cry harder, but you stopped yourself.
This had happened before. You’ve been subdued and taunted before. Hell, worse has happened to you and you always seemed to hold in the tears until you were in the comfort of your own room or in Natasha’s arms.
But there was no single room for you to run off to and there was no more Natasha-
It took a moment to register that your seatbelt had been unbuckled, Steve had exited the vehicle, and Scott was already tugging you by the underarms and into the backseat. You were then squished between the two men, with Steve manually tilting your head to rest on the expanse of his chest and Scott with his arms wrapped around your waist to mimic a massive bear hug.
They let you ride out whatever broken sobs your body produced. There were few tears and your breakdown was amateur at best, but you still broke. There was no point in trying to diminish its importance. You were here, and you had both fresh and dry tear streaks, and it was important to feel.
At least that’s what Steve had been reciting for the past two minutes as he ran his fingers through your hair.
You sniffed and wiped your cheeks, rolling your eyes at yourself. “I’m sorry, this is really embarrassing.”
Scott leaned back to stare at you in pure disbelief, “You have every right to scream, to cry, to tear this world apart. You have a right to feel.”
You wanted to believe him. God, you wanted to believe him.
If Scott wasn’t here, perhaps Steve would allow himself to cry with you. His masculinity was intact, thank you very much, but Scott didn’t need to console two people at once. So he swallowed his pain, secured it back into the safe within his heart that was specifically constructed for you, and held you tighter.
Out of nowhere, Scott patted your thigh multiple times like a child begging for attention. “We need comfort food. We’ve all had a rough day and it’s not even two o’clock yet! Nothing some french fries and burgers can’t fix!”
It had slipped your mind how little you had actually gotten to eat. Just a few sips of coffee and some grapes. Wasn’t your fault there were more important things to focus on.
“Can we get, like, a massive tray of fries?” you smiled.
Scott’s eyes lit up.
Lots of things are so simple. Or, in theory. Boiling water is simple. Doing laundry. Pumping gas.
But then there are those simple things that are just not so accessible to everyone. Like, it was simple for Bruce to learn and teach theoretical physics. It was simple for Peter to catch a bus with his bare hands. It was simple for Thor to call upon thunder and lightning and for Loki to cause some mischief.
For Steve, eating his body weight in fries was simple.
For Scott, opening the ketchup packets without his thumbs sliding was simple.
For you, stealing Steve’s fries was simple.
Maybe because he didn’t stop you.
It’s crazy how just a few hours with some close friends made every problem in the world seem nonexistent. You were replenished, in a sense, ready to put any embarrassment and self-hatred behind you in preparation for the rehearsal dinner tomorrow. Everything up until now was child’s play - now, there were no restraints. You were instructed to strike on the wedding day as that was the day the shipment was moving, but if anything truly dangerous occurred tomorrow, Fury had given the green light to shoot.
It would have been a blessing to just have one more quiet night in, maybe enjoy some more special alone time with Steve. There was a conversation to be had, feelings to be discussed, an argument to start. There needed to be screaming, and crying, and eye rolling - all needed to happen.
Yes, that would have been great.
Steve launched the shield across the room the second Scott pushed open the door, the crack of bone and vibranium sounding off. Scott had already unclicked his gun safety, weapon pointed directly at the intruder - who had collapsed to the floor with a bleeding shin clutched in between his hands. You didn’t even realize your gun was also out and cocked. Instinct - skill you had acquired from Natasha and Rhodey.
Sometimes you wish you could forget how to hold a gun altogether.
Ramirez was on the floor, having only released a loud howl when the shield connected. He just panted lowly, eyes squeezed shut. He desperately tried to raise his hands.
“Please… don’t shoot.”
Steve stepped forward, shield braced and covering both you and Scott. You stayed near the door in case Ramirez had any other friends visiting.
You turned on your mic and hoped it patched through. “Widow.”
“How did you get past security? How did you know which hotel we were at?”
Ramirez looked over at you, eyes pleading for help from Steve’s questions or from the physical pain. You really couldn’t tell.
“Answer the questions, Omar.” You used his first name - that told him you were serious.
“Someone took their smoke break.” He breathed in uneven cycles. “I followed you the first day you arrived.”
Completely baffled, you looked to Scott for some answer he clearly didn’t have.
“That’s not possible. Our people swept the area, we had eyes on you and-”
Ramirez interrupted shyly, “You had eyes on me. Not my connections.”
“Your men were followed, too.”
Although he was groaning, he still responded as softly as possible. “Connections, mija. They aren’t all a part of the mob.”
Every guest who checked in and out of the hotel were screened for that week. Every employee was vetted.
“If you’re wondering who it was, I’ll save you the time and say it was simply a passerby who didn’t even enter the hotel. Just followed, then made a U-turn.”
Scott scoffed and lowered his gun, “If it really was that easy…”
Steve kneeled to be eye-level with Ramirez. “Then that means Ernesto already knows about Scott and Torres.”
As quickly as Steve declared this, Ramirez shook his head. “No! I’m not on Ernesto’s side anymore. Haven’t been for a long time!”
“Prove it.”
Ramirez stared at you, eyes pleading for trust. He didn’t look all that intimidating. Short black hair, wrinkles minimal and clothes well-pressed, slim and dark skin clear of any blemishes - he looked like every guy who you would see at the bank. He remained pleading even after Steve patted him down.
Still kneeling and leg slightly extended to relieve some of the pain, he started to explain himself. “I know when people are acting.”
“What?”
“When you pressed the gun to her chin,” he motioned his hand between you and Steve, “you held her hand.”
Lowering your gun and dropping your shoulders, you released a deep sigh. “You were behind us.”
He agreed, “I was behind you.” He inspected the room with a small smile, glancing at all three of you in amusement. Once his sight rested on Steve, he tipped his chin up and smirked. “I heard you could pick up Thor’s hammer.”
“Oh my god,” you mumbled, annoyed, and turned to check the hallway. Your mic was muffled, but you swore you could make out the voices of Torres and Sam.
“Any man who can do that is good, right?”
Scott nodded, “According to legend-”
Steve blinked at him, “Scott.”
“That little gesture of care, plus the cell phone videos I saw you in from two years ago-” Ramirez started, but was interrupted.
Steve squinted, “Saw us where?”
“The phone videos on Youtube.”
You stepped back into the room, stuttering over your words. “What phone videos? Be clearer.”
“You defended that child. The - the spider child,” he pointed at Steve, wincing as he shifted his leg. “And you got into that bar fight, busted someone's head into the floor.”
“No, PR made sure they were deleted. Hill said there was no trace of them-”
“My two youngest daughters were fifteen at the time. They knew about the video the minute it aired. They saved it.”
Scott sighed, shaking his head at the memory of having to bail both you and Sam out of jail. It was a nice turn of the tables, though. “...We didn’t factor in the possibility of teenagers screen recording?”
Ramirez chuckled, “Seems not.”
It was certainly an eventful night for PR. A complete disaster they had to cover up and twist for the media. There were four Avengers mixed up in this chaos, and since the perpetrators didn’t quite succeed in kicking your asses, PR might just finish the job for them.
On one side of town, Steve was responding to an urgent call from Happy asking if he was in the vicinity. Peter had been visiting a study group in Brooklyn, careful as ever, but still stumbled upon bullies. Steve lived close and instead of ringing the whole team, Happy put his trust in the person Tony would have also called.
It was a scene he hoped he would never have to witness again. To see such cruelty months after the final battle, a battle everyone knew the kid played a major part in, it tore Steve apart shred by miserable shred.
Peter was crouched against an alley wall, shielding his face with his arms as five boys around his age pounded away. He appeared to be clutching his phone, the line still connected with Happy, and he was begging them to stop.
Steve had never run so fast. He dodged a few cars and strollers along the way, mind fogged with desperation and anger. He now knew how Bucky felt when he saved Steve from all those alley fights back in the day.
It didn’t even register in his mind that he had pulled at least two of the boys away and threw them into the opposite wall, or that he had clutched one's throat so tight that Peter’s thumbs were now digging under his clenched palm with the plea of ‘Cap, let him go!’.
He dropped the boy, no more than seventeen, on the ground and stepped away to inspect Peter. A busted lip, what looked to be two purpling eyes, torn clothing, and bruises along his ribcage that showed through the new holes in his shirt. The five boys all stood and cowered backwards.
They shouted and name-called, spit on the floor and taunted the two superheroes. It wasn’t until Peter leaned into Steve’s chest and pushed him back that Steve realized one of the boys was recording the whole thing.
Against his better judgement, he let them go. There wasn't anything beneficial to be done besides file a police report - not that it would do much anyway.
He took Peter back to his apartment and called Happy himself. He stitched the nasty cut on the kid’s forehead. He fed him some soup and crackers. He gave him some spare clothes that had shrunk in the washer. Peter’s smile was so broken as he interrupted the silence while Steve cleaned away the dry blood, a simple explanation of ‘I obviously couldn’t fight back’.
And fuck, Steve knew the kid was right.
On the other side of town, the night had started pretty nicely. Two beers in and your conversation with Sam was littered with constant laughter and childhood stories. The bar wasn’t that crowded for a Thursday night, just a few regulars and a small office party.
Your conversation was interrupted by two men who had clearly been holding their tongue. First they harassed you for being Avengers and destroying the city every other week - which granted, was a pretty reasonable argument. You let that one slide. But then they hassled you on who you employed: an ex-con who was clearly only abusing his influence on Hank Pym, a mental woman who took an entire town hostage because she was obviously evil at heart and a witch (‘fuck her children, what about mine?!’), and a teenager who had murdered a true superhero who was only trying to warn and rid the world of him.
You and Sam remained seated, jaws clenched and hands wrapped tightly around your drinks. If you ignored them long enough, they would go away. The bartender will surely throw them out, they were becoming too rowdy. You were better than them and there was absolutely no need to freak out over words. They were just words.
“I say we head on over to Queens and pay that sweet Aunt of his a visit!”
Sam let out a quick and prepared sigh, “Shit.”
He threw the first punch, launching himself at the biggest of the two men and hitting the ground. You leaped over the bar counter and tackled the second guy before he could join Sam’s fight. He was clearly caught off guard, arms fumbling wildly as he tried and failed to keep his balance. But your sudden momentum caused his decline, and you were hammering your fist down onto his face like your life depended on it.
Sam quickly took his gun from his pocket and threw it across the room. He couldn’t risk either of the guys getting a hold of it. He rolled onto all fours before sweeping his leg to trip the guy as he attempted to stand. He shuffled and grabbed one of his arms, legs wrapping themselves over the dude’s shoulders and squeezing his neck. If there was one thing Natasha had taught her friends, it was how to subdue a man with just the thighs.
The brawl lasted maybe a good two minutes before other customers stepped in and separated you. Out of anger, you kept kicking and struggling. It wasn’t until the doors burst open and police drew their batons that you realized you royally fucked up. Everything was eerily silent and out of pure personality, you scooted away from the remnants of the fight as discreetly (but most obviously) as you could.
You were booked, charges later dropped. Sam’s mugshot showcased a thin smile, like he knew the record would be expunged within the hour. Yours displayed a cocked eyebrow and slightly pursed lips.
Yeah, PR didn’t have a nice night.
“What about the videos, Omar?”
Ramirez gave you a sincere look, “No one on Ernesto’s team risks their reputation like that. You have his rage, but he doesn’t have your morality. Save the next question, I know what you two were fighting about.”
Even if you did get caught and the videos went viral, there was no way the world could know your connections. “The world doesn’t know about my family connections. Fury made sure to never input it into Shield’s database.”
“Imagine how terrified Ernesto was when the Russian spilled all their secrets.”
“Natasha,” Steve asserted. “Her name was Natasha.”
Ramirez bowed his head, “Natasha. I’m sorry.” He turned back to you. “You were barely starting out when that happened, no?”
You were getting impatient with no backup. “Your point?”
“You’re working against him, aren’t you? You’ve always been working against him.”
You raised your gun again and stalked toward him. “Choose your next words carefully.”
Again, he raised his hands in defense. “I’m not with him. He doesn’t know I’m here, neither does White.”
There was a long pause as you all pondered over his admission. Even though you vouched for him just yesterday, there was still so much to consider before jumping to his conclusion. “I think they’re plotting to kill me.”
Steve chuckled under his breath, “We know.”
Ramirez reacted like he was just slapped in the face. “You know?”
After a long train of thought, Scott interjected with his own idea. “That plot of land you bought - it’s not for drugs, is it?”
“I mean, half of it is for drugs.”
“Omar,” you demanded.
“Yes, yes. But the other half is entirely unrelated.”
Scott motioned for him to continue, “Enlighten us.”
And the small, proud smile on his face gave you the feeling he really was telling the truth. “It’s a refugee camp.”
Steve stuttered, “Drugs and refugees?”
Ramirez pushed himself toward the nearby chair and hoisted himself up. “I know it sounds crazy. Trust me, I know.” He let out a pained hiss. “But the Mexican government has already approved it. Well, if you can call it a government. They’re one of the few who still haven’t recovered from everyone coming back.”
“So, what? Are you making the refugees work for you?” you questioned.
Ramirez widened his eyes. “What? No, no! The drugs are for income. For food, shelter, medicine, todo lo demas!”
Steve huffed, “Let me guess. The drugs aren’t real and anyone who finds out the truth will turn a blind eye.”
“Exactly.”
It was obvious why Ramirez wanted someone to know about the possible scheme. But why that someone happened to be you and your team, you honestly didn’t know. By logic, if you had been playing your father all this time, wasn’t it reasonable to assume you had or continue to play Ramirez?
“And you’re telling us for what? To save your ass?”
Ramirez countered with a question of his own, “Why are you here? After what Seda did to you, I can’t believe it.”
“Stop, just stop.” You were about done with all of this.
“You’re here to arrest us, right? I’m assuming I’m included.”
You raised your head, trying desperately to depict true regret in the stare you gave him. “I’m sorry.”
He sadly shook his head, “Don’t apologize. I know why you’re doing it.” He turned to Steve. “I’m just asking for a favor.”
“What kind of favor?”
“Protect my daughter.”
Your jaw dropped lightly as you heard his selfless favor. “Your daughter?”
“Her name is on the deed. I think Ernesto wants my land.”
“And once you’re taken out, she’s the only thing standing in his way.”
“Either he marries her-” he took a long pause to breath in deep. “Or he kills her.”
“Take her off of it?” you stated with confidence since it was more of a suggestion than a question.
A deep frown etched into his face. “She’s somewhere in Asia right now. I need her signature. And all the forgers haven’t called me back.” He sighed and reached down to grip his bloody shin again. “She won’t make it back in time for the legal route.”
Steve nodded in understanding. He surprised you by setting the shield down on the couch. “Then we won’t let anything happen.”
“Promise me.”
You started to express remorse about the situation but were immediately cut off. “We aren’t in the business of making pro-”
“We promise.”
You turned your head sharply, eyes round and mouth dropped. It was all you could muster up to show Steve your shock. He ignored your judgement, even if he did just break one of the top ten rules on the ‘what not to do as a superhero!’ list.
Finally, uniformed officers scrambled into the room with their weapons drawn. Torres led them, hair all disheveled and cheeks pink. “I’m so sorry. The connection was hacked and the cameras were delayed-”
You moved to stand near him, “It’s okay. Hey, we’re okay.”
Torres kept eye contact with you for only a second more, not really accepting that his tardiness should be casually swept under the rug like that. He immediately signaled for his officers to arrest Ramirez. “Get on your knees.”
Ramirez raised his hands and tried to stand. “With all due respect, your Captain might’ve broken my leg. I can’t kneel again or else I might cry.”
You tugged at Torres’s jacket and whispered. “Joaquin, just take him in for questioning. But you gotta release him-”
His eyes rounded. “What? We finally got him!”
“You have to release him. He has to be at the wedding.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered after a long pause and internal struggle.
Just like that, Torres and his officers hoisted Ramirez up and dragged him from the room. For him to risk coming here, with no backup (according to security cameras and his word) and trusting his gut that you weren’t dirty - he must have been telling some truth. Steve followed Torres out, leaving you and Scott to report back to Sam and Bucky.
Steve had only made it down the hallway when Ramirez stumbled into the wall. “Stop here, please.”
Steve was immediately defensive. “I’m not going to apologize for protecting my team.”
Ramirez didn’t seem to mind that he would be having trouble walking at the wedding. Granted he didn’t play a major role in the actual wedding, but he still needed to be present during the shipment transport. He inwardly thanked the fact the rehearsal dinner was only for close family. “Captain. Joaquin, is it? I know you heard everything I said. Mexico is your homeland. Your people.”
Torres allowed Ramirez to lean on the wall without his help. “I know my roots.”
“I wasn’t lying about the refugee camp. And I know you’ve done a lot in that area of work.”
“How do you-” Torres stammered, eyes flashing to Steve with worry.
“Mijo, I have connections all over the world. And because I’m not an evil son of a bitch, I tend to keep them.”
Torres looked from Steve to Ramirez debating on whether to entertain this conversation any longer. But if training taught him anything, it was that if the suspect is talking, keep him talking. He motioned for his officers to leave them.
“What are you getting at?”
“Ernesto knows about the camp. He knows the size of land. He knows my connections. He will kill me for it.”
Steve mumbled, “Ernesto doesn’t seem like he’s much into the business of helping the less fortunate.”
Ramirez takes a grand leap here, Steve thinks, because the next words out of his mouth completely blindside him. It seemed like even saying them also left a bad taste in the criminal’s mouth. “You have to swear not to tell Y/N.”
Stepping forward and looking down at the injured man, Steve had to restrain himself from yelling his response. “Excuse me?”
“We can’t let her know right now.”
Torres held the same expression as Steve.
“You expect me to keep a secret from my partner? About her own father?”
“For the sake of your mission - yes, I know you’re planning on intercepting the shipment during the wedding - you cannot tell her until the day of the wedding.”
Steve hates that his reasoning is valid.
“Can’t tell her what?”
“The shipment isn’t a ‘what’. It’s ‘who’.”
“A hostage?” Torres almost yells because this changes the landscape, the game, the whole entire mission.
“Multiple.”
“No, he’s not - he can’t be,” Torres is stuttering now, phone in his hand and about a dozen numbers he needs to call.
Still, Ramirez seems like he’s telling the truth. Or at least, that’s what his body language tells Steve. “I would not lie about this.”
Ramirez takes a deep breath before hanging his head in what looks like shame. “Ernesto is planning to kill me, marry or kill my daughter, and use the land to traffic humans.”
It immediately clicks with Steve. The reason why Ramirez was being edged out, the reason why your father wouldn’t tell you where the shipment was currently located, the reason business was going to boom in Europe.
Ramirez continued, “Drugs are big business, Captain. But the sale of human lives…”
“The shipment - where is it?” Steve asked.
“He wouldn’t tell me or White. That’s why we have to wait until the wedding. We can’t risk-”
Torres ended a phone call Steve hadn’t even known the kid had been on. He hooked Ramirez’s arm around his shoulders. “Okay. Let’s get out of here.”
Ramirez accepted the help, limping a few steps down the hallway before turning back to Steve. “Trust me when I say I know your partner, Captain. She can’t know right now. She’d kill him.”
But wasn’t that what you all wanted?
Flustered and quite overwhelmed with everything that had happened this morning and afternoon, Steve took a few minutes in the quiet hallway.
There wasn’t much for him to do. Except set up security - because if there was one thing Steve was definitely going to do, it was see this whole mission through.
The rest of the team back home would be briefed in the next few hours. And since Torres would be giving the briefing, everyone would know that this was a major secret kept from you. It would eat away at everyone, especially Steve.
Digging into his pockets for his burner phone, he dialed the one number he thought you would be satisfied by.
“Maribel, hey. It’s Steve Rogers. I need a favor.”
It wasn’t hard for Steve to conceal secrets. He was trained in code, intercepted Nazi messages during the war, and negotiated the safe return of hostages more times than he could count.
Not telling you this would perhaps bite him in the ass in the long run, and there would most certainly be a dreaded argument in his future. But when he truly thought about it and what it could possibly mean if you seriously went out of your way to end this mission quicker than it was planned - the best possible choice was to keep this secret.
Either he could tell you right now and have you do with it what you will, or he could tell you on the day of the wedding when all bets are off and the mission could be a success.
That’s all the both of you have ever wanted, this he knows for sure. Getting rid of these people, getting rid of your father with help from the Avengers and their close connections, was worth more than a petty argument with the top crime boss who would never change his ways. It was best to stick it out, and tell you when the time was right.
Because he will tell you. He promises himself that.
After discussing the day and the rest of the plan over video chat, it was concluded that Sam and Bucky would be flying out a day earlier than planned. Having Ramirez simply waltz into the hotel when someone was having their regular smoke break was much too insane to ignore, and the more backup you guys had tomorrow and the next, the better.
Scott took his leave after triple-checking if you were alright. He even offered to have a couple drinks with you down at the bar. You declined, excuse being that you would drink tomorrow at the dinner.
Shrugging off your jacket and shirt was more painful than you hoped. It felt like someone had punched you with all their strength smack-dab in the middle of your fucking spine. Which, come to think of it, kind of happened? The pressure Seda applied was meant to subdue in the most awkward and painful of ways. He was trained to do so. Still, removing your bra should have been a simple task and instead it hurt like a bitch.
The warm water from the shower relaxed the strained muscles as best as it could, and you only suffered minimally while applying your shampoo and conditioner. It was the hair drying and brushing of the hair that would prove difficult.
Giving up halfway, you opened the bathroom door and peeked through, hoping Steve decided to stay in for the night. He was simply lounging on his bed, back pressed against the headboard as he watched Finding Nemo on Disney Junior. He was already dressed for bed.
“Steve?”
He glanced at you, worry etched on his face as he took in your embarrassed expression. “What is it?”
You opened the door fully, pajamas already on and a wet towel in your hand. You blushed madly. “Could you help me dry my hair? It hurts when I raise my arms.”
Steve was out of bed the second he heard the word ‘help’. “How bad is it? We can always fly in Dr. Cho to get you checked out-”
You giggled, passing him the hotel hair dryer. “I’ll just pop some advil every few hours and annoy you for a massage before tomorrow’s dinner. That sound good?”
He didn’t want to agree. If you were actually in severe pain, it wasn’t helpful to you or the mission. He cursed himself for not relieving you of Seda’s elbow sooner.
“If you say so.”
You turned back to the mirror and gripped the counter, fingers tapping away as Steve grabbed the essentials. He used one of the hand towels to squeeze the excess water from your tips and separated your hair into sections. He blow dried your hair for a couple of minutes before deciding to alternate with the brush.
The brush was shaped like a cylinder, the bristles much softer than that of other brushes he’d seen.
“Just use it like any other brush. But once you get close to the tips, start twisting it. It’ll make my hair wavy.”
Steve nodded, doing exactly as you instructed. It was fifteen minutes of pure laughs and jokes as Steve styled your hair like some seventies movie star. He had always enjoyed the culture from that time and even if the show wasn’t actually set in the seventies, it was one of his guilty pleasures to watch That 70’s Show with Wanda.
Once finished, the two of you brushed your teeth and finished the rest of the movie in comfortable silence. He didn’t want to become distracted by something new so he shut off the television and turned to you, all snuggled up and scrolling through your phone.
It was now or never.
His voice was tinier than he hoped it would be, “Do you regret what we did?”
You were lying on your side facing Steve, phone plugged into the charger. You looked up, voice as equally tiny. “Oh, we’re talking about it now?”
Steve smiled, “You haven’t exactly brought it up either.”
“Well,” your chuckle came out as a huff. You put your phone back onto the bedside table. “No, I don’t regret it.”
“You don’t?”
“Did you want me to?” you sounded surprised, but Steve knew you well enough to know you were only teasing.
“No, I just-”
“Do you?”
“You gotta stop interrupting me,” Steve sighed. You raised your eyebrows. “I don’t regret it.”
You bit your lip and sat up straighter so your back was also leaning against the headboard. “So we both don’t regret it.”
“God, you annoy the hell out of me, you know that?” Steve admitted, kicking off his sheets and presenting what looked to be both a sad and honest grin.
You laughed, kicking the sheets off as well and dangling your legs over the side. “Do I! You only remind me every damn day!”
Steve softened his voice once more, grin still present. “And yet, you never take a hint.”
You craved this playfulness and if you could continue like this for the rest of the night, for the rest of your lives, you would. But you remembered that there was a real conversation to be had. About the last seven years, the last two years, the last couple of days. Whether that conversation remained civil or evolved into an argument, it had to happen.
“I guess we both act like everything is past us when it clearly isn’t. What should we do?”
Steve hesitated, “Do you want to fight?”
You shrugged, “I think we need to. I don’t plan on not speaking to you for months after if that’s what you’re concerned about.”
He huffed an involuntary laugh, body leaning forward slightly, “I hope not.”
You shared small smiles from your sides of the room, the air growing thicker but not uncomfortable enough to leave the room altogether.
Steve decided to speak first. “I was stupid. And I made the wrong fucking choice. I was the biggest goddamn idiot on the planet to do that to a friend.”
You chewed on your bottom lip, “Yeah. All of that’s true. But you still haven’t told me why you did it. You just gave me a half-assed apology because Sam forced you to, and you wonder why we never had our nightly girl talks again.”
“When I apologized, I hardly meant it.”
You nodded sarcastically, “Good start, Steve.”
“No, I-” he laughed, getting up to sit beside you. “I realized that I was truly, actually sorry… when you gave me your blood.”
You cringed, looking away from him and at the random monitors. “It sounds horribly cryptic when you say it like that.”
He smiled big, “It wasn’t even a mission. And if I recall correctly, you told me you would only help me again if we were on a mission.”
“Oh.”
He scooted closer to take your hand in his. “No, not ‘oh’. I was in and out of it but I can clearly make out when I’m getting a blood transfusion.”
“You weren’t gonna die-” you rolled your eyes, absentmindedly drawing circles on Steve’s knuckles.
“Recovery would have been a hell of a lot harder.”
“I wasn’t the only volunteer-”
“You were the first.”
“So you’re interrupting me, now?”
Steve's smile never faltered. He leaned in and squinted playfully. “How does it feel?”
Pursing your lips, you surrendered. “Go on.”
“You won’t believe me when I say that I truly don’t know why I quit on you. I was just tired.”
“Tired of me?”
“God, no,” he responded quickly. “Tired of myself.”
“Steve…”
He stood up again. Running a hand through his hair, he took tiny steps back and forth. “We brought everyone back and they didn’t know they had been gone for years. I had to tell -”
He swallowed hard, holding back tears. “I had to tell everyone Nat sacrificed her own soul for theirs.”
“Steve, we could have done it together. I was by your side,” you stood up as well, reaching out to grip his forearm.
“And then Nick told me about your father. And how he was just picking up where he left off. Like Nat’s sacrifice meant nothing. Like it still means nothing.”
You sighed, a disappointed pout on your face. “So you took it out on me?”
His shoulders fell in defeat as he gently slapped his arms down over his hips. “I have no other excuse.”
He didn’t try to sugarcoat it. It was the truth. No matter who asked the question, no matter how much he thought about it, the answer truly was that Steve had no excuse. You were the one thing connected to the evil of the past that he so desperately wanted to leave behind. “And then the world was just… we didn’t fix it.”
“How can you say that?”
He explained further, “People moved on. Five years was a long time and we just mucked it all up again.”
“Do you feel like Nat’s sacrifice wasn’t worth it?”
“She died for us. And the world was so chaotic the first few weeks. There were no breaks, there was nothing we could do but… watch.”
You could see where he was coming from. “Pepper has donated so much money. Created foundations. Bruce is locked in his lab all day trying to help slow down the sudden CO2 emissions. Bucky joined the Avengers for a fresh start. And Wanda-”
Steve pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. “Oh, god, Wanda.”
“Steve,” you stepped in front of him and tried pulling his hands away. He let you guide his arms back to his sides. “You can’t just blame yourself for something we all did.”
A tiny puff of air left his lips before he forced a smile. “Can’t I?”
“You tell this to your therapist, right?” you teased, happy to see him break slightly as he rolled his eyes. “You blame yourself, but I’m saying you don’t have to.”
He traced his index finger down from your shoulder to your wrist. “I shouldn’t have left you alone.”
“No, you shouldn’t have.”
And you believed him. The world could explode and erase you from existence and you would still believe him.
“I feel like saying ‘sorry’ doesn’t cut it.”
“I’ll work with whatever you can give me.”
And God, Steve thinks about how beautiful you look in the muted light of his bedside lamp, hair still a little frizzy from the hair dryer and the most radiant smile. So… soft. Again, the only sound besides your easy breathing and slight whistle was that lamp, the most annoying, fuzzy sound. Everything just felt so hazy, so tranquil, so… and yes, he’ll use the word again: soft. He could stay in that moment forever, where you were his and he was yours.
“What are you thinking about?”
Steve shakes his head, wonder drowning out all other senses as he focuses on you. He steps closer, enveloping you in a tight hug, mindful of your bruised back. Before he could overthink this moment, to ruin it with the side of himself he was trying to lose, he leaned in to capture your lips in a most chaste kiss.
It had been a long time since Steve had kissed anyone. The kiss you shared yesterday was the catalyst, but this was a promise. His last kiss was before the snap while he was on the run and trying to avoid responsibility. But it wasn’t like someone before wanted to bask in the warmth of Steve Rogers - no - there was actual emotion to this kiss.
An ache swelled in the middle of your chest, hammering surely and true. Your mouth falls open the same time Steve inches his hand up your neck, allowing for the kiss to deepen and last.
His heart was breaking and repairing itself all at once. Breaking for the time he had lost, repairing for the time he had gained. He needed you, wanted you, lost himself in your touch. That same ache in your chest grew in his, pulsating and heavy. His fingers crept into your hair, curling themselves in the loose strands.
He swears you were born for this - to be willing and wanting and breathtakingly good at kissing. He’s so desperate to feel more of you, to taste more than he thinks he deserves, and he almost whines when your fingers also start to tangle in the hair near his neck.
“Steve, are you sure we should be doing this?” Your voice prompted him to kiss deeper, apply more pressure in the fear that you would change your mind - change your mind about him.
Almost immediately, red flags propped up and he had to force himself away. He didn’t know your dating history, he didn’t know if you ever emotionally recovered from your assault, he didn’t know. He cursed inwardly for last night, keeping a respectable distance as he checked.
“I won’t do anything you don’t want to do. I promise you that.”
His voice was thick like honey, smooth and true in the honest words he was saying.
You had been hesitant for a long while after what had happened to you. You couldn’t stand the simple touch of anyone besides Natasha. But she helped you through it, she shared her own experiences from the early Red Room days, and she had never officially recognized your recovery - she didn’t have to as long as you knew in your mind and body that you had.
‘The dreadful experience will be a part of you, but it will not ever control you.’ Her words were like prayer.
But Steve’s touch was natural and wanted. You never shied away from him, not ten years ago and certainly not now. He would never hurt you, you knew this, and he was double-checking to confirm it.
“I only want you.”
His face resembled a literal question mark, like he didn’t quite accept your admission. Like it was hard to believe you wanted to be with him after everything he put you through. “Do you want me?”
“Yes. Honest to God, I’m just going with what feels right.”
“That’s just a nicer way of saying you’re thinking with your dick.”
Steve couldn’t contain the burst of laughter that left his lips and hit yours. He pulled back and smiled, eyes crinkling at the sides. “I promise you it’s not that.”
You cupped his face and drew tiny circles on his flushed cheeks. “Hm, so you don’t know what you’re doin’? Thought you always had a plan.”
Steve rolled his eyes, “And apparently I’m always brave.”
“And righteous.”
“Downright patriotic.”
You grinned up at him, your toes sore from how long you had been bending them to hoist you up. “So, your plan?”
Steve kissed you once, twice, three times. “I don’t have one.”
“Pretty brave of you to admit that.”
Steve’s smile dropped slightly to showcase a more serious emotion. Still, his eyes held the most genuine quality. “I just want to be yours.”
You pressed up against him, tiptoes straining and fists clutching his shirt. The kiss was desperate now, as were the both of you. You gasped in between each long peck. “All this time? Why didn’t we say something?”
Embracing you once more, Steve led the two of you to the foot of his bed and fell forward. He landed on top of you, weight nowhere near actually crushing you. His legs were slightly parted, his knees touching the lateral sides of yours. Accepting that the both of you had played a role and delayed this portion of your relationship - Steve was a coward, he knew this, but hearing you say that you also realized your mistakes made him feel weirdly glad. Like he wasn’t alone in this.
“Tell me if you need to stop,” Steve breathed in your neck, kissing the depths of your collarbones and the points of your shoulders.
“Never,” you whispered, gasping a moment later as he sucked particularly hard. You reached below and tugged the end of his shirt upward. He took it off quickly and before resuming his conquest on your neck, he tugged yours off as well.
It functioned like this for another ten minutes, strong kisses and gasps and whines, before you were both down to your underwear and simply petting each other higher up on the bed.
Steve pulled away abruptly, a blush spreading along his neck and down his chest as he thought about the best way to phrase his next sentence. “I didn’t really pack any condoms.”
You actually snorted, pushing away loose strands of your hair as you looked up from beneath him. “Woah, how far did you think you were going to get here, Rogers?”
He was used to the sarcasm, but oh my god did it do something feral to him while in bed with you. He suddenly flipped you over, holding your hips above his as you settled yourself. It was like a case of whiplash, and before you knew it, you were placed on top of him to grind down and do all the work yourself.
“Seriously?” His voice was light but raspy, both a sweet question and a warning.
You grind your hips down on him, feeling the way his hard cock rubbed against your clothed core. Last night was different - you could feel the heat of him, the initial size not lost on you whatsoever. But here you were actually seeing the thick outline in all its glory, a small wet patch forming on his briefs near his twitching tip. “Years of sleeping in my bed only to want to fuck me now?”
He rolled his hips up, his palms beginning a slow and steady pace smoothing alongside your stomach. You relaxed right away, even though it felt like your insides were going to turn upside down, and you rested your hands over his to help guide him.
“You gonna let me?”
And fuck, if that wasn’t the hottest fucking thing in the whole world. His palms continued their tracks, reaching up to cup your breasts through your sports bra. You got the message, giggling as you lifted your arms up. He lifted it up and over your head, throwing it to the other side of the room. Steve immediately attacked, lifting himself and readjusting your hips as well. He sucked your left nipple like a goddamn professional, swirling his tongue around the tight nub and using his teeth only briefly, delighted in the sharp hitch in your breath as he did so. He moved on to the other one, repeating the same process and grinding your hips down on him to match. He trailed quick pecks along your chest and up your neck, his hand finding its way back to your hair. Just below your occipital, so very sensitive, and he tugged your head back at an awkward angle. He kissed his way up, stretching your neck out, and you adjusted to the burn as quickly as the pleasure from it came.
“Fuck,” you breathed out, mind scrambled but still coherent enough to remember you were on birth control and clean. “I have the shot.”
This had Steve reeling, balance now off as he flipped you once more, hips coming down to meet yours as you thrust upward looking for some relief. The thought of spilling into you with no barrier had to be one of the kinks he didn’t know he had.
“Safe word?”
You rolled your eyes and shoved his shoulder playfully, “Really, Steve?”
“Safe. Word.”
It wasn’t like you were about to tie each other down for your first time together, but you knew what was flying through his mind. He needed to know you felt safe during whatever the two of you did tonight, make sure you felt calm and at ease and relaxed. Steve would rather die than hurt you physically.
“Widow.” You paused, smirking up at him as he accepted your decree. “Great, now I’m thinking about Natasha and that time she entered the compound in just that little, red bikini-”
Steve thumbed your bottom lip, then carefully shoved it into your mouth and placed it over your lax tongue to get you to stop talking. Your jaw instantly relaxed and you waited a few moments before locking eyes and enclosing his thumb in your lips. You sucked and swirled your tongue around it, pushing slightly so it rested on your puckered lips. Steve rolled his hips down again, his heat meeting yours in a mash of uncoordinated thrusts. You spread your legs to allow him more room. He had to remove his thumb in fear he would come right then and there.
He inched down lower, hands reaching down to cup your ass and lift you up slightly. He kissed all along your thighs, up to your hip bones, expertly avoiding the one area he knew you wanted him. His beard scratched and poked on your delicate skin, tickling you as he moved closer to your center. This would most certainly hurt in the morning, but nothing a little lotion and vaseline couldn’t fix. You mewled embarrassingly loud, a long drawn out sound that caused Steve to involuntarily rut against the mattress. It had been so long since he had been with someone. But this someone was you. He honestly didn’t know if he could hold out for as long as he wanted. He slowly peeled off your underwear.
“Where do you want me?”
You lifted your head from the pillow to look down at him, eyebrows furrowed and cheeks incredibly red. “Games, Rogers?”
Steve growled and hoisted your open legs on his shoulders, pulling you closer so that you could feel his stuttering breath. “I’m the one playing?”
His question didn’t quite land considering his sudden manhandling had your eyes rolling to the back of your head and momentarily blinding you. After such a harsh day, the roughness of this particular situation shouldn’t have been so well received by your body. But it was consensual, it was with someone you trusted, and you were also in control. Just knowing that made you crave it.
“If you don’t get your mouth on me-” you started, trying desperately to move your hips closer to his mouth. And god, did he want to dip lower and suck your glistening heat under his waiting mouth. You were positively dripping, all shiny and welcoming. He hadn’t ordered dessert with dinner, and hey, this would do nicely.
But your quick quips ignited the Steve that would pick you last during training line-ups. He would leave you for the end, without a team, foot tapping rapidly on the floor as you glared at him with an amused smile. Then he would act like you were the last choice he just had to pick, which you were, and you’d lose the first match on purpose to ruin his scoreboard. It always worked like this, he knew, but did he ever pick you first the next time? No, your bothered attitude excited him too much.
Now, with an impatient attitude bolstering underneath his body, he found himself raising his hand a few inches up in the air. “Stop sassin’!”
The slap echoed after it connected against your bottom, the angle at which it impacted clumsy and inelegant. He smacked the side, surprised by the sharp scream you exhaled. As quickly as he acted, he pulled back. “Oh my god, I should have asked first. I’m so sorry.”
You opened your eyes, the soft light illuminating the room still too bright. You shook away the white spots from your vision. You seriously didn’t know if that was an orgasm or simply a tidal wave of intense pleasure. Still, you were sort of out of it as Steve’s voice tried to draw you back in.
You looked down at him, “Do that again.”
Steve blinked quickly, unknowing if he truly registered your words correctly. “Are you sure?”
“I didn’t think I’d enjoy that. But oh my god, do that again.”
Steve hesitated and to ease into it better, he decided to not keep you waiting any longer and attached his eager lips to your gleaming ones down below. You fluttered your eyes shut, surprised by how quickly he found your sweetest spot, and you rutted against him harder as the minutes flew by. He swirled his tongue in tight O’s and figure eights, teeth barely scratching but when they did, sent you flying upwards. But he just gripped onto your thighs and readjusted you on his shoulders, fingers digging in almost painfully. His beard burned the inside of your thighs, rubbing deliciously and uncomfortably. He shifted his soft and wriggling tongue to that special spot on the inside of your left lip, his fierce grip not allowing you to shift away as he ate. The hands that were clutching the bedsheets now flew onto his scalp, gripping his hair tightly and you pushed him in deeper. Steve groaned from the pleasant sting, cock straining in his briefs as he rutted into the air.
The pressure was too much and you wanted him off of you and on you at the same time. Moaning so loud it was deafening, you didn’t notice he lost his grip on one of your legs to connect his palm back to the side of your ass.
“God!” you yelled blissfully, one hand leaving his head to slam back into the headboard. He repeated the action, his own moans vibrating on you and sending you to a different plane of existence. Each slap grew in strength and he alternated sides, his mouth never leaving your sweet center.
He was sweating now, dying to touch himself and get you off at the same time. He circled his hips mid-air, the friction against his briefs not enough and all too much.
“Fuck, I can’t believe you like that,” he whined.
You chuckled through desperate moans, “Are you judging me right now?”
“I’m judging how fucking wrecked it makes me,” he admitted, mouth now working overtime and ready to lead you off the edge. He worked faster, tongue now assaulting your clit eagerly. Steve can feel both his pulse and your pulse gaining momentum, thrumming away inside his skull and vibrating deliciously as he brought you closer. He suspects you’ve got a few good seconds before you’re coming on his mouth.
“Steve… Steve!” you begged, hips bucking awkwardly against him. He wrapped both arms around your thighs again and headed for the finish line, humming against you and basking in the glory of your end. You broke around him, the scream you let out causing the heat in his stomach to tighten and spread to his own thighs. You wiggled fiercely, attempting to get away from him as he continued to lick you. He made sure to leave some of your release behind, even if his lips and chin told another story.
He set your legs back down on the bed with him still in the middle. He could still see how shiny you were in between. Selfishly, Steve maneuvered to get himself out of his briefs and settle back in the middle. There, he took pleasure in simply viewing himself, strained and practically purple with desire, at level with your wet mound.
“You’ve been practicing, huh?” He snapped from his dirty thoughts and looked back at your blissed out face. You also had a soft luster on your skin.
Steve chuckled, hands gripping the sides of your hips to massage them. “Not recently. But the USO girls were just as tuned up as I was at the time.”
You grinned wide, “Now that’s something I didn’t know about you. You fuck ‘em?”
Steve reached down to grip the base of his cock, the pressure building and he seriously didn’t want to blow his load before you both took the next step. He willed himself to calm down before he responded. “Yeah, but please don’t go tellin’ everyone.”
“Who knew you were such a slut?” you teased, voice dripping with such intensity that Steve shut his eyes to drown in it. You wrapped your leg around his waist and tipped him over, coming back to rest your hips atop his. Hands sprawled along the expanse of his chest and unclothed heat now rubbing along his bare cock. Steve tipped his head back, a deep groan rising from the middle of his chest as your drenched lips parted to swallow the thickness of his cock. You rocked back and forth, your sensitive clit nudging his tip every so often. You had already come once, and you reveled in the simple fact that this must be torture for Steve. “Tell me, Steve. How do you want me?”
Steve short-circuited.
“Doll, I want you in every imaginable way,” he whined, bucking his hips. He grinned when his short movement caused you to whimper. “I want you on top of me, doing nothing, as I fuck up into you.”
You let out a ragged gasp, hips moving faster. You were practically dripping along his cock. Steve continued, “I want you underneath me as I fold you in half and your ankles are dangling in the air. I want you on your stomach as I use your hips how I want.”
Your eyes were wide, the blush on your cheeks extending all the way down to your naked chest. This was so surreal. Just last week you switched his special sugar for salt and watched him literally sob and almost throw up as he sipped his morning tea.
“But I also want you to hold me down and fuck me however you see fit. I want you to steal my control, I don’t want it. I just need you.”
His voice was wrecked, choked whimpers caught in between his syllables and eyelids fluttering slowly. You shot down to kiss him hard, hands tangling in his hair and hips grinding long and slow. You were rewarded with a sticky bead of pre-come from his sensitive slit. You were already milking him and he hadn’t even entered you yet.
“Y/N, are you sure?”
You detached your lips, forehead now resting on his and your breaths intermingled. “I’m sure.”
He didn’t know what willed him to flip you over so fast, whether it was the serum or his desperate need to sink into your tight warmth, but he succeeded. His gaze was intense, like he was trying to find any hesitation he so didn’t want to find. But there was none. Your eyes were bright and happy, and he had only seen this look a few times. He felt incredibly lucky to experience it now.
“I’m sorry I lost you,” he spoke without thinking. Because he truly was sorry, he was so fucking sorry. But to have you here, so vulnerable and allowing him to see you so defenseless, he felt like he didn’t deserve it without telling you once again that he was sorry.
You gave him a toothy smile, cheeks rising and causing the skin by your eyes to crinkle. You guided his head down to plant his lips on yours again. It was innocent enough for the circumstances, just a gentle press with slow movements.
You pushed him back to meet his eyes. “I probably should have held on tighter.”
He knows the color of your eyes, but never in this lighting. He knows the sweat of your body, but not when it mixes with his. He knows your talkative mouth, but never pink and swollen in a pleasant pout. He knows your voice, but never when it calls out his name while you writhe underneath him. He knows you now, all of you, open and vulnerable for him.
Steve presses one more deep kiss on your lips before positioning himself better in between your legs. He lifts you up slightly, bending your knees and spreading your legs so your feet are planted on the mattress. Then he slowly guides himself into your tight heat.
It’s incredibly overwhelming for both parties. He hadn’t exactly prepared you with his fingers and his size is a little much. He was thicker than anything you were used to, and the sting left you wanting him to move already and pause to settle for maybe an hour. It’s like he read your mind because he moved even slower as he pushed deeper, head dropping to the curve of your neck, gasping against your skin. You tried to encourage him, rolling your hips and hooking one leg around him. The sting still overpowered any sense of pleasure, so you rolled your hips against his to try and better adjust for yourself.
He grasped onto the side of your hip tightly, “Doll, if you don’t stop doing that I’m not gonna last.”
You blushed, slightly embarrassed, “I was just trying to get comfortable quicker.”
Steve groaned and planted a few sweet kisses to your heated neck. “Do you want to stop? I can work you out one more time before we do this?”
You turned your head slightly to kiss across his cheek. “I want you now. I just need to adjust first.”
Steve nodded quickly, pressing in more and pausing to let you roll your hips. He bit his lip harshly, a cracked gasp escaping every so often as you worked yourself on him. Once he was fully seated inside of you, he closed his eyes and just held you.
He tried not to think of anything else other than you. How you felt, how you smelled, how you sounded. Who you were, who you became, who you will be. He was swallowed in you and he didn’t ever want to leave that abyss.
A rush of heat settled inside your stomach, maddening and burning with such intensity it was practically speaking to you. “Steve, you can move. I’m ready, please move.”
He’s as deep as he can go and you’re both breathing hard and he loves you, he loves you, he loves you. As far as declarations of love go, this was perhaps the most graceless, but he knew it was sincere and real. Steve felt a moment of unrelenting panic, like he had just accidentally verbally admitted it. But he hadn’t, and selfishly enough, he would keep it to himself for as long as he could until he himself could come to terms with it.
There are definitely going to be marks on your skin once you’re done here, but you couldn’t care less - not when Steve just let go of his worries and started to thrust in and out of you, deep and slow. He meets you with a long kiss, hips picking up their pace as you match his rhythm. His hands grip your hips tighter, every thrust working deep into you and prying desperate moans for him to savor.
The drag as he pulls out leaves you lightheaded. And as he pushes back in, it leaves you with a burst of satisfaction at the base of your spine. You can’t even form words as you’re reduced to a stuttering series of ‘uh-uh-uhs’, fully in the moment and fucked stupid. All you could do is push your hips forward and up to meet him halfway, match your moans to his, clench around him to draw out that choked sob from his throat that he tries and fails to contain. You tried your best to ignore the slight pain in the middle of your back, and the sting and stretch down below made sure of it.
He was stammering around every syllable of your name. Breathy moans followed.
“Steve, faster, please baby.” Steve stuttered in his movements, eyes squeezed shut as he registered your request. He followed through, however, lifting your hip in one hand and turning you at an angle that made him hit deeper and in a special spot you didn’t know you had. No one had reached it, not even when you played with yourself, and your squeal of delight alerted Steve of his accomplishment. Each pleasurable noise encouraged Steve to maintain whatever rhythm he had going. So he hit it over and over again, working at it hungrily, ignoring his shaking arms and praying the serum could be useful for more than just bullets and super speed.
“You feel so fucking perfect. So fucking great,” he panted, watching your face as it contorted into a silent scream. You were coming again, hands braced on his biceps as your voice failed to warn him. You clenched and unclenched around him, head thrown far back into the pillow as your chest ripped with the sound it was harbouring.
You had never come from penetration alone and you bet the fact it was Steve bringing you to climax was definitely a main factor, but it was so damn intense that your legs gave out and simply flopped onto the mattress. Steve stopped hammering into you for a minute, breathing heavily as he allowed you a cooldown.
“I didn’t feel that coming, I’m sorry,” you laughed, arm coming up to cover your eyes.
Steve chuckled and removed your arm, “You good?”
You were still seeing white spots and your head was slightly cloudy, but the knowledge that Steve hadn’t yet come fueled you. And the possibility of him coming inside you kickstarted another wave of desire in each of your vertebrae.
“Yeah, I just have one favor,” you stated honestly, wiggling uncomfortably. “Could you flip me over? In this position, you’re really pushing down on my bruise.”
He moaned shamefully from the greedy thought of having you on your stomach. The angel on one shoulder chastised him, telling him to flip you over for the sake of your comfort. But that little devil, greedy and seeking his finish, told him to flip you over and fuck you into the mattress. He compromised.
He flipped you over and helped you place a pillow just below your hips. He watched as you threw your hair to one side and bent your arms at the elbows. Hands now placed below your head and hips wiggling in front of him, Steve parted your legs and sunk into you again.
“Yes, fuck, yes…” you mewled, hips raising ever so slightly to drag him in deeper. Steve watched the area where you were connected, wonder clouding his mind as he dipped deeper, deeper, until his hips connected with your bottom. He wasn’t used to this position and he never really thought that he would enjoy it so much. It was like he reached new depths, your pleasure could only come from the way he rolled his hips - yeah, he needed to put you in every position his mind could fathom.
His jaw went slack as he pulled out and pushed back in, hair sticking to his own forehead and mouth feeling dry and watery at the same time.
He fucked you in earnest, hoping he could draw out one more orgasm from you. You were putty beneath him, hair now mangled and sticking with the sweat on your neck and back. You were a repetition of ‘yes, yes, yes’ and ‘fuck please, fuck, please!’, sloppy in all senses. He didn’t slow down because one: he was chasing his finish, and two: you didn’t tell him to.
You were a whimpering mess, a tiny pool of drool forming beneath your mouth and on the sheets. It wasn’t like you didn’t try to swallow it - you physically couldn’t.
Steve was growing erratic now as his end neared. He fell over you, none of his weight actually on you as he wrapped one arm under your stomach and the other hand sneaking its way to your clit. His cheek was planted on your back and in that moment, he remembered your growing bruise. So he lifted his face back up and planted several wet kisses over, inbetween, and alongside your shoulder blades. The soft gesture had you tearing up from both adoration and heat. You fisted the sheets underneath you and met Steve’s ruts as best as you could.
He rubbed quick circles over your clit, relishing in the feeling of your velvet walls pulsating around him. “Come for me, doll.”
You didn’t know if he could hear himself begging, but he repeated that sentence several more times before you spoke. It was like you chose for him. “Come inside me, Steve. Please, please, please!”
That strung-out whine of yours did it. Steve pressed his mouth against your skin with a breathless groan as he spilled into you in long spurts. Simply feeling him coat your walls with what sounded like a painful cry had you coming for the third time tonight. You didn’t have enough energy to vocalize it so just pushed your head into the pillow and prayed you could still walk tomorrow.
Steve’s heartbeat is in his ears as he comes down from his high. He enjoys it for a few more seconds before finally snapping back to reality, lifting himself from you and slowly pulling out. He groaned deeply as he watched his spent drip from you and onto the pillow hoisting you up. He wrapped a hand around himself to milk whatever else he had as he watched.
You two lay beside each other for several minutes, chests heaving and blood settling to its normal speed again.
You glanced to your left and giggled as you witnessed Steve’s blissed out state, tip of his nose still pink, eyelashes creating such a lovely shadow on his cheeks, cock giving a few spent stutters as the rush of blood found another body part to supply.
He turned to you as well, a lazy smile greeting you. “We’re good at that.”
This time you laughed loudly, throwing yourself over his chest and hugging him close. He laughed with you and kissed the top of your head as he enjoyed the feeling.
After another couple minutes, you both decided it was time to clean up. He resisted the urge to laugh when you stood up, legs wobbly and chest still trying to catch full breaths. You looked drunk, eyes glossy and hair disorderly. The look suited you, really.
You thought the same about him.
Steve swore he was about to crumble when you both returned from the bathroom and you headed for your own bed. It was a betrayal for only a millisecond before you commented on how you were not sleeping in soiled sheets and that he could ‘obviously’ join you in your bed tonight. You kept talking, telling him how you weren’t necessarily a cuddler but you would sacrifice one night for him. But ‘do not be alarmed when you find me on the other side of the bed in the morning!’, and the good ache in his chest swelled once again.
Once, in 1935, when Steve was seventeen and too weak to breathe in a lick of clean air, the pneumonia eating away at his lungs and taunting his mother, who was rotating between cold and hot rags; that 1935 sickness was one of the few times he was hopeless. Sure, he pulled through because he’s Steve Rogers. But not being able to breathe really scares a person, and so he didn’t feel hopeless - he was hopeless. His own body betrayed him and made his mother, who nursed him while Bucky worked extra shifts at the dock to help her with groceries, cry like a blubbering newborn - well, Steve was forced to put his faith in God. It’s what his mother would have wanted him to do.
And when he couldn’t reach far enough to grasp Bucky’s trembling hand, when he watched him fall into that icy ravine to his supposed death in 1944, he was hopeless. Completely obliterated from the bottom of his heart, up.
In 2018, when he lost the ultimate battle and saw half the world disintegrate, and the itchiness spread itself far and wide to all the crevices in his crumbling soul, pouring into crack after crack after crack - there was no need to even label himself hopeless anymore. He hadn’t had hope in anything after he caused the destruction of one of his only true 21st century friendships; not since he dropped that shield at the feet of one friend while he walked away with another. There was no hopelessness - simply less.
But now, with you in his arms and treading lightly along his second chance, his heart was bursting with the possibility of relearning the definition of hope, craving to feel human again - to feel like Steve Rogers again. Sure, he may still believe his glass is half empty instead of half full, and he was pushing the ideals of that shield far too much down the line, but Steve swore the awe in your eyes was the hope he had lost.
He couldn’t believe you were the host of it all along.
So he settled in his new home, in his new hope, praying God would let him have it, and closed his eyes. This Steve, who was asleep for over seventy years and was robbed of the life he was supposed to live. This Steve, who wished he could erase all the lost time filled with stupid tantrums and half-assed apologies and pretend it never happened. No lies about ‘maybe it helped you two grow!’ He had poisoned his happiness years ago and god forbid he would let himself do it again.
This Steve, who only wanted to protect and be protected. Steve, with all his heart, his mind, and his soul, burning brilliant.
~
A/N: man i know this is long but i literally write the chapters in sections and i don’t realize until I paste them together omgggg xxMoni
Taglist: @dumb-ass-writer @justab-eautifulmess @supraveng @mycosmicparadise @missnighttigress
#steve rogers x reader#reader x steve rogers#reader insert#marvel fanfiction#captain america x reader#to topple#a giant#by Moni#captainsimagines#Part Six#Chapter six#avengers x reader#mob fanfic#enemies to lovers#friends to enemies to lovers#Smut#steve rogers smut#LOVE THE ANGST#love the smut
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Hold on..THIS IS YOU?!
Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader
Request: where she is a fanfic writer and Sebastian stumbles upon her blog and messaged her as well not letting her know who he was but being an open person she is as to who she was, sending pictures and all, and until one day, decides to meet with her and she is surprised that it was the one she was writing for?
Word Count: 3.6K
Warnings: fluff, sarcasm (of course) and cussing? i think that’s all
A/N: Hello my lovelies. I am sorry I haven’t been posting as much, but that’s usually how I roll..no jk I legit had no time to write because of my classes this semester, so if this sucks I’m sorry lol. I’m still trying to get back into my writing groove...Also don’t mind my minor mistakes 😅
A/N 2: Anyways I AM BACK AND this is my first request ever!! I’m so excited to write this, I am soo sorry this took forever, but hope I did your request justice and that you like it (and so do others). I feel like I wrote this kinda cheesy, but whatever.
[Y/B/N = your blog name]
As always lemme know if you wanna be tagged in my future works and feedback is very much appreciated. Enjoy! <3
Just another normal day without stress and a less anxiety filled world...no, today was actually awful. You were swamped with work and your best friend was complaining about her boyfriend. Let’s just say that the stress she was having with him was making you feel happy that you were single. Trying to relax you heated up some coffee (a/n: or tea) and sat on the couch of your small apartment. Grabbing your laptop you wanted to unwind reading. Probably some fanfics on Tumblr usually does the trick.
After reading some pretty good marvel related fics by your mutuals, you got inspired to write some fics yourself. Opening up a new tab you began writing about your favorite actor, Sebastian Stan. That man literally makes your miserable day a little better. Sadly, like all the girls and women who fantasize over him, he doesn’t know you. But, whatever right? You can always use your imagination and conjure up a make believe world where the two of you are happily engaged and have a German Shepard puppy named Stitch. Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you opened another tab on your laptop to pull up your writing playlist, you began typing away on your keyboard writing a new AU where you’re the celebrity of the world you were creating and he was a huge fan of you. After you finished your new fic, you posted that immediately without edits because you were so excited to see people read it.
*across town*
“Have you guys ever read any fanfiction about your characters or yourselves?” the interviewer asked the pair.
“You know I’ve seen a few that were quite impressive. These writers are damn creative.” Anthony replied with a smile. “I will also not lie. I’ve read a few steamy ones and y’all are dirty.” he added with a slight disgusted face shaking his head towards the camera.
“What about you Sebastian? Have you read any?” the interviewer lady asked, looking over to the man.
“Honestly. I haven’t.” Sebastian chuckled looking back at her. “Maybe, if Mackie here finds a good one about me I’ll give it a read.” shrugging towards his friend.
“Oh man, I got a few that are worth reading.” Mackie laughed, rubbing his hands together.
“Hey, might as well share them with the world. Let’s give that writer a shout out!” she exclaimed, placing her notecards on her lap.
“Well, like I’ve said I’ve only read a bit, but I do have some blogs that I’ve saved. Maybe next time I’ll name drop a few and give fans some well deserved praise.” Anthony smiled looking at the two.
“Alright, well you better have a huge list for me.” the lady said with a smile looking at Anthony. “Thank you both again for your time. For everyone watching Falcon and the Winter Soldier comes out in March 2021.” She finished off the interview smiling and waving at the camera and the two men followed her actions as well. Once the cameras and mics were turned off the lady came back to the two men.
“Thank you again guys for your time” the lady said to the pair shaking their hands (a/n: ok let's pretend there is no corona in this world so yeah. Everyone is healthy and so is the world!). The two replied with a simple you’re welcome and another thanks in return.
“Wait, have you really read fanfiction before?” Sebastian asked his co-star as the pair walked towards their manager, who was waiting for them outside the room, getting their schedule for the pair’s next interview.
“I mean yeah. I got curious on what people were writing about us and our characters.” Anthony responded with a shrug looking down at his phone.
“Aren’t most of those like fifty shades of grey?” Sebastian asked, staring at his friend as stood near their manager.
“Only if you want them to be..” Mackie stared at his friend with a blank face as they came to an abrupt stop. “Nah man, I’m just playing. Some of them are steamy, others can be sad, like crazy sad and some are like tooth rotting cute. Like I recently read one that was with Captain America and this original character that the author came up with and it made me say ‘aww’ when I finished it. Me. A grown man said ‘aww’ after reading a fanfic. A FANFIC!” he added. Their manager quickly explained their schedule and walked them over to their car to head off to the next location. The two were seated at the back, while their manager sat next to the driver.
“You know what. Send me that story you read.” Sebastian said to Anthony.
“Are you sure Seb?” Anthony asked with a chuckle.
“Yeah, why not.” he replied with a shrug. “Might as well read a good story before our next interview.”
“Alright let me send it to you right now. Honestly I think this writer is one of my favorites. I don’t know if it's her writing style or how she portrays our characters, but she’s amazing.” Mackie said with a smile getting the fic he recently read and sending it to his friend.
“So all her stories are good?” Sebastian asked, looking at the notification.
“I just said that she is my favorite writer.” Anthony looked at his friend with a ‘are you serious face.’
“Okay. Okay.” Seb said with his arms up in defense. After a few minutes of reading the fanfic Sebastian actually said ‘aww’ aloud just like Mackie after he first read the story.
“It was good wasn’t it.” Anthony asked with a toothy grin.
“Yeah this was really good. Y/B/N is a pretty good writer.” Sebastian said looking through your feed.
“You should tell her!” Anthony exclaimed.
“What, like make an account?” Seb asked.
“Well yeah, but I mean not your actual name of course. Make a fan account. Show these writers your appreciation, I know that if I were an author I would love that (a/n: wink wink). I’ve messaged a few writers complimenting their work without actually telling them who I am.” Anthony said, placing his hand on his friend’s shoulder.
“I’m gonna read more stuff from her before I message her.” Sebastian chuckled. Sebastian clicked onto your main blog page to find that you had just posted a new fic about him. “Wait, dude she just posted a new story...About me!” Sebastian exclaimed, showing his phone to Anthony.
“Nice, but we have to finish these interviews. You gotta read it during your free time man, sorry to crush your dreams.” he chuckled, unbuckling his seat belt and getting out of the car. Sebastian sighed and followed his co-stars actions getting out of the car and continuing the rest of his day filled with interviews.
*later that evening*
After the interviews Anthony and Sebastian had dinner together at a fancy restaurant. During their dinner they talked about how crazy some interviews were. Sebastian brought up the subject of how Mackie publicly announced that he had read fanfiction. With that still stuck in his mind the two finished their meal and after parting ways. Sebastian took a cab and arrived at his apartment, changed out of his fancy suit to some comfy clothes and grabbed a bottle of water from his fridge. He walked over to his couch turning on the tv, not really paying attention to what was playing, grabbing his phone he opened the tumblr app finally creating an account.
*one week later*
Sebastian has read almost all of your works and texting Anthony almost every time after he has finished a new fic giving his reactions to each. He has liked and reblogged everything he has read from you and other writers, but he favors your stuff the most.
Mackie: dude you should tell her you like her stuff and stop texting me!
Seb: Alright I will, I just don't know what to say.
Mackie: Just say you like her work. It's as simple as that.
Seb: okay okay I will
Mackie: ok good, no stop texting my its legit 2 am
Seb: fine
Sebastian opened up the messaging area of the app and began typing away his appreciation to you. He didn’t know why he felt so nervous after he pressed send. Getting out of the app completely he tried to focus on whatever was playing on the tv. Then all of a sudden he heard a notification go off and his phone light up. Looking down on it he saw that it was a notification from you. Again his nervousness took place as he unlocked his phone to read the notification. The app opened and the direct message filled his phone screen.
(a/n: this is my first time using a fake dm thingy so just imagine that Seb is following you)
Seb: Holy shit dude, she actually replied back to me!
Mackie: Well of course she did, she's not a robot. But maybe she is since she’s up so late...
Seb: shut up and why are you still up? I though you were mad at me for texting you
Mackie: well you woke me up so what am i supposed to do
Seb: whatever I’ll let you go
Mackie: alright. bye lover boy
Sebastian shook his head at the text, he went back to the app to reply back to you. “What should I say?” he said to himself. “Maybe she’s in a different time zone or lives across the world or something… Okay okay. Maybe be chill and say I hope i didn’t wake you? No that sounds weird.” he shook his head trying to come up with something to say. Eventually he fell asleep trying to think of what to say to you.
*the next morning/later that day*
Sebastian woke up with his phone gone from his hand. He quickly got out of his bed in panic to look for it. Maybe you had said something to him or he had said something dumb to you. Once he found his phone he quickly unlocked it to check and thank god he didn’t say anything stupid. But he didn’t say anything. He shook his head clearing his thoughts. “Alright I think I know what to say.”
Y/N’s POV
You woke up to the sound of cars honking, groaning you looked at your clock. “How is it already 10 am?” you said aloud to nobody in particular. You sat up on your bed and grabbed your phone scrolling through various social media apps. At the top of your screen you saw a notification from tumblr. Opening the app to the notifications section, you noticed it was a blog that had messaged you from earlier in the morning.
sebstan_fan: Nice to meet you Y/N. I’m Carter. I don’t know where you live, but I just woke up and had a dream about one of your fics. (wow I hope that didn’t sound creepy)
You smiled at the message, since you loved interacting with your followers.
y/b/n: haha its ok. I actually live near New York City and I also woke up. What was your dream about? (if i can ask)
Sebastian’s POV
Sebastian had just finished taking a shower and began preparing his late breakfast. “Holy shit she replied again!” he said to himself looking at the message.
sebstan_fan: Wait, you live near NYC! Me too! Wow such a small world. But anyways my dream was honestly just a reenactment of your fic.
y/b/n: that’s so crazy how we live near each other lol. But that's so cool how you dreamt about my work. You must have really liked it.
sebstan_fan: yeah it was really interesting how you wrote such a life like scenario.
y/b/n: thank you Carter <3
sebstan_fan: ok I now this is random, but what’s your favorite place to eat in New York?
y/b/n: ooh that’s tough. Let’s go with Lombardi’s since its the very first pizza place to open in the US
sebstan_fan: oh wow an excellent choice :)
*a couple weeks later*
You and your new tumblr friend have been talking about one another’s favorite hobbies and interests for the past few weeks. You feel like you have grown a new connection with your new friend and telling them about your shitty days at work. Today your best friend wanted to bring you with her and her boyfriend to some fancy restaurant.
y/b/n: Carter, I’m practically third wheeling with her and her boyfriend.
sebstan_fan: well that sounds awful. Where is she taking you?
y/b/n: idk to some fancy restaurant I’ve never heard of. Anyways she’s making me wear fancy clothes, but I just wanna wear my pajamas!
sebstan_fan: y/n come on. you gotta dress nice if other people are dressing nice too
y/b/n: ughh ok I think I found something nice. *sends picture of yourself in an elegant dress* what about this?
Seb’s POV
Sebastian got a glass of water and sat back down on his couch. Unlocking his phone to see the new dm from you he spit his water out of his mouth wetting the coffee table in front of him. “HOLY SHIT SHE’S GORGEOUS!” he yelled aloud staring at his phone in awe of your beauty.
sebstan_fan: Y/N, you look amazing! That dress is literally making you glow!
y/b/n: stop you’re making me blush..my friend just pulled up. I’ll dm you later once this stupid night is over.
sebstan_fan: alright have fun
y/b/n: <3
Sebastian quickly called Mackie to tell him that you sent him a photo of yourself.
“Dude, she is unbelievably gorgeous. I actually spit my water out all over my coffee table when I saw the picture. ” Sebastian said on the phone.
“Man you are so obsessed with her, it's kinda creepy.” Anthony replied through the phone.
“What? No man, we just clicked. We have a bunch in common and she’s really easy to talk to.” Sebastian gushed to his friend.
“Yeah, but she doesn’t know that you’re lying to her about your real identity. You’re like fucking Superman with a secret persona!” Anthony snickered at the man on the other line.
“Dude no, but I’ll tell her eventually that I’m me.” Seb replied back to Anthony.
“Well you better do it soon because I’m tired of hearing about you gushing over this woman.” Anthony huffed under his breath. “Anyways I gotta go so bye bitch.”
Sebastian laughed at his friend hanging up the phone and heading to his room getting ready for bed. As he laid on his bed he couldn’t take his mind off of you in that dress. You were so open with sharing your life to him, a complete stranger, yet he couldn’t do the same.
*the next day*
y/b/n: Carter! I forgot to dm you once I got home, but that dinner was terrible. I hated every minute of it.
sebstan_fan: what happened? Also good morning :)
y/b/n: good morning, sorry if I woke you. But anyways my best friend and her boyfriend brought some dude to make it a double date and the guy was a complete douche. I couldn’t stand a minute being there.
sebstan_fan: damn I’m sorry to hear that. I bet if I was there with you the night wouldn’t have been so bad haha
y/b/n: creepy..jk But I bet we would have completely ditched my friend and her boyfriend lol
sebstan_fan: wait, I got an idea! I mean since we live around the same area why don’t we meet!
y/b/n: what like in person?
sebstan_fan: no through zoom, yes in person!
y/b/n: wow the sarcasm in this one, but that sounds like a lovely idea. I feel like I already know so much about you tho...
Sebastian huffed under his breath, “not everything.”
sebstan_fan: lol yeah but it’ll be different to meet in person. Anyways where should we meet?
y/b/n: lol that’s true. Well I know this small cafe that’s so cute and I heard they have pretty good pastries. It would be awesome to meet there :D
sebstan_fan: alright how about Saturday afternoon? You don’t have work right?
y/b/n: nope I’m off! but that sounds good to me! I’m so excited and nervous at the same time. Like what if you’re some creepy stalker...
Sebstan_fan: why would you accuse me of such a thing?!
y/b/n: lol you know i’m just messing with you. But I gotta go my friend is now calling me, probably about that douche from last night...but I can’t wait to see you Carter!<3
“Yeah, me too.” Sebastian said to himself smiling.
*Saturday*
You sat at the cafe where you told your new tumblr friend to meet you. You ordered a drink and once it was finished, you grabbed it and sat near the windows saving a seat for Carter. As you waited you pulled out your laptop and began on typing away a new fic idea drawing inspiration from the small cafe and the gloomy weather outside.
“I’m sorry that seat’s taken...” you muttered to a man who pulled out the chain next to you, looking up at the figure. “Holy shit!” you exclaimed to the man who sat next to you.
“Shhhh...Please don’t say anything.” Sebastian whispered to you, sitting on the chair next to you and taking off his sunglasses.
“What? But how? You’re!? I can’t breathe.” you exclaimed erratically looking down at your drink.
“Hey, hey Y/N, just calm down and take slow deep breaths.” he said calmly placing his hand on your back.
“How the fuck do you know my name?!” you exclaimed again staring wide eyed at the actor. “Am I getting pranked or something? Where are the cameras?!” you nervously laughed looking around the empty cafe.
“No, you’re not getting pranked. It’s me Carter…” he said quietly rubbing the back of his head.
“You’re Carter?! I thought you were a girl!” you said looking into the man’s blue eyes.
“I may have lied about who I was, but I wanted to meet you.” he started as he stared down at the ground. “I didn’t want you to freak out knowing that it was actually me.” he said looking back up at you.
“Let me just gather my thoughts for a sec.” you said, putting your hand to your temples.
“Wait, why did you assume I was a girl?” he asked with a smirk.
“I don’t know! Carter is a unisex name.” you frantically said with a shrug. “And I mean most of my followers are female, so I just assumed you were one too.” you added grabbing your drink and taking a sip to calm your nerves.
“That makes sense I guess.” he said chuckling, looking out the big window of the cafe.
“This is so crazy that you are here. Sitting next to me and talking about my stupid tumblr blog.” you uttered. “Like you’re famous!”
“Yeah so what.” he looked back to you.
“I mean aren’t you busy filming and stuff?” you asked the man.
“Nope, we just wrapped up the interviews a couple of weeks ago. I’m on vacation.” he said with a toothy grin, which made you blush. “Aww look she’s blushing.” he said sweetly towards you.
“Shut up. It’s not like I get to meet my favorite actor who I’ve had a crush on since forever sitting next to me and casually conversing with.” you muttered quickly hoping he didn’t hear your profession of love for him.
“You got a crush on me?” he smiled at you.
“Fuck you. I do not!” you exclaimed looking away from him.
“Aww I think you do.” he said, nudging your shoulder.
“Whatever.” you said under your breath trying to hide your embarrassment.
“Hey, I’m in awe too.” he began, which made you look at him. “It’s not like I get to see a beautiful woman who I like.” he smirked at you.
“I think I’m dreaming. Did you just say you like me?!” you asked pinching yourself back into reality.
“I mean yeah. I really like your work as a writer and the past what month we’ve been talking I think you’re a really cool and sweet person.” he said now blushing.
“I bet you say that to all the women you meet.” scoffing at his comment.
“No I’m serious Y/N. I think you’re a really talented writer. And I think you’re also really pretty.” again blushing, but this time he looked straight at you.
“Oh, wow. Thank you so much Sebastian.” you hesitated, your cheeks heating up. “That means a lot coming from you.” you smiled.
“Of course. And also I wanted to ask you in person if after coming clear about who I actually am, if you wanted to go out sometime. I know its weird and all sudden but-”
“Yes!” you exclaimed quickly cutting him off. “I mean. I would love to.” you said more calmly. “God, I’m trying so hard to keep my inner fangirl in.” you huffed under your breath.
Sebastian laughed at your comment and then asked, “Alright then. What about tomorrow I take you out for dinner?”
“That sounds delightful.” you smiled at the man. The two of you fell silent watching the people who passed by the small cafe.
“Oh, but can I ask you one more question? Why are you wearing a hat? And shades earlier? It's legit rainy and cloudy as hell outside.” you asked, looking at the man with your head resting on your hand.
“I’m going incognito. I don’t want my fans to recognize me.” he replied, taking a sip of his coffee.
“Are you embarrassed of them seeing you with me?” you hesitantly interrogated.
“No, I just don't want them to interrupt our first date.” he responded with a smirk looking at you.
“Wait, this is a date?!” you exclaimed with wide eyes.
“Only if you want it to be sweetheart.” Sebastian smirked, winking towards you.
“Fuck you.” You said with a smile.
A/N: Yay you finished! Was that good? bad? cheesy? lemme know lol Again if you wanna be tagged in future fics, have any requests or just wanna chat hit me up! Thank you guys for reading and I hope you get excited for more stuff to come.
Tags: @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @sebtheromanianprince @aquabrie @who-the-hell-is-sebastianstan @princess76179 @anbrax5553 @wintersoldierissucharide @caplanbuckybarnes @miraclesoflove @kitkatd7 @msgreenverse @saiyanprincessswanie @fandomsandxfiles @hailmary-yramliah @coffeebooksandfandom @thefallenbibliophilequote
^please lemme know if you wanna be added to future works or removed for tags^
#Sebastian Stan#sebastian stan fic#sebastian stan fanfiction#sebastian x reader#reader x sebastian#sebastian stan x reader#reader x sebastian stan#sebastian stan x you#you x sebastian#sebastian x you#you x sebastian stan#reader insert#sebastian stan fluff
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I finally figured out what pisses me off about the way the MCU is constructed.
For comics, often the universe presented is essentially a playground for the writers. They’re allowed to do pretty much anything as long as they stay roughly in character and can justify or retcon whatever batshit direction they go in. This process works with minimal communication between writers to the point where someone’s run is often considered an entirely different universe/timeline/story than another’s. And for comics with the way they were published over time and consumed, this is entirely fine. You’re not really supposed to be able to make one coherent plot line out of it all. In fact it’s almost like fanfiction itself, where side characters that get briefly introduced catch the fancy of a different writer who then goes on to make them a whole thing (see Punisher showing up in Daredevil as just one of many examples).
And again, for comics, this is fine. You’re supposed to be able to pick and choose what storylines and artists and characters you like and because there’s a very nebulous established canon you can sort of decide what you want to be canon for yourself.
Now. On the other hand. This is a shitty shitty way to write movies. Especially movies that are supposed to have one coherent, chronological timeline, with side stories that add onto the main one. If you’re doing that, you very well can have multiple writers, but they need to be on the same page about the overall plot, the end goal, and the characterization. They cannot be allowed to make these things up individually or the story begins to feel very off, as chronologically and characteristically a lot of changes don’t make sense with previous work. Characters begin to feel like entirely new people when they are supposed to be continuing from the last movie they were in.
This lack of communication, with writers treating the MCU like the comics universe and each making their own story, is what causes the MCU to be so frustrating.
Ex:
Things that can work in the comics:
Cap can be both the noble Captain America (most Cap comics) and evil Hydra Steve Rogers (Deadpool and a few others)
Matt can have lost his sight from a chemical truck crash that belonged to Stark Industries, Oscorp, or Rand Enterprises.
Clint’s dog Lucky can be multiple different dogs to different people under different names and different abilities.
Things that cannot work in the movies:
Loki calling Natasha a “mewling quim” in Avengers then Loki drinking his respect women juice all throughout his show. (Joss Whedon vs Kate Herron)
Thor experiencing the character development to lose his hammer and unlock his power as well as losing his eye but being a better king than his father. Then Thor going to a ton of trouble to get a new hammer and receiving a new bionic eye in a one-off scene. (Taika Waititi vs The Russos)
Tony Stark giving up Iron Man for Pepper then happily building suits no problem soon after. (Shane Black and Drew Pierce vs Joss Whedon)
Cap moving on with Sharon then going back in time to be with Peggy. (The Russos vs themselves lol)
Tony appearing to have little trauma at all from Afghanistan then having severe anxiety. (Mark Fergus, Hawk Ostby, Art Marcum, and Matt Holloway vs Shane Black and Drew Pierce)
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We belong together
Pairing: August Walker x f!reader
Summary: Months after your break-up, August comes to claim what’s his.
Wordcount: 1k
Warnings: NSFW, oral (f receiving), small mentions of bodily fluids, hinted stalking (I think that’s it, but do let me know, if there’s something else)
A/N: I’m so excited and anxious at the same time!!! This is my first ever published fanfiction on tumblr! I want to apologize for my English beforehand, since I’m not a native speaker. Anyway, please don’t go easy on me with the criticism and thank you so much for reading. Ps. Special thanks to @littlefreya. I admire your writing soooo much. I was binge-reading your stories and when I fell asleep, I dreamt of this story as a result. Your writing gives me wet dreams, idk how it could get better lol. Hope it’s not too weird haha, but I just wanted to thank you for inspiring me to finally pick up writing again!
Masterlist
Another day at work. As usual, you were sitting in your tiny office overwhelmed by the amount of the work that had to be done. This is going to be a long day, you sighed. Planning to boost your morale with some nice hot beverage, you stood up from the uncomfortable chair and went to the breakroom. It was empty, except for one of your co-workers, but soon he left, leaving you alone. You neared the counter and started to prepare your favourite drink to warm you up.
You badly needed this job. Not as much for the money, as for a distraction for what was going on in your personal life. Recently, you have gone through a quite messy break-up with your now ex-boyfriend. You were together for 2 years and everything was going perfectly considering, he had his red flags and you had yours. But you were determined to overcome those. You both were doing a good job with that, until a few months ago. He started to drift away. Always staying late at work, sometimes he didn’t even bother to return home at all. You could tell he was hiding something. Not to mention how alone you felt. There were weeks when he wouldn’t speak to you, nor touch you. Naturally you became suspenseful. After months of pent up frustration, anger and loneliness, you finally snapped and accused him of cheating. He was taken aback and looked almost hurt, that you were thinking so low of him. The heated argument ended up by you packing and leaving him for good. To be honest, there was constant pang of guilt and regret towards the way you acted that night. Your thoughts always wandered, was there a reasonable explanation of his actions? Whatever, you thought, we can’t change the past.
Your self-reflecting moment was interrupted. It would seem that you weren’t the only one in need of a break. You turned around to greet the co-worker, but as soon as you locked eyes with the person standing in the door frame, you wished to disappear on the spot. It was him. Your ex. August Walker.
You froze. State of complete shock overtook your body. His piercing gaze forbidding you to move. He didn’t say a word as he marched towards you. There was something frightening about how calm he was. You tried to back away, but soon hit the counter. When he didn’t stop, you panicked and jumped on the counter. Leaning against the wall you quickly pulled your legs up and hugged your knees.
He caged you between his strong arms and breathed in your scent. God, how much he missed you. It was clear for him, you two simply belonged together. If only you would have listened. But he understood where you were coming from and decided to give you some time. He didn’t think you were serious about leaving him forever. So, when you hadn’t returned, he took the matters in his own hands. Tracking you down, getting your new address and information about your new job was easy. Too easy for his liking. He wasn’t able to protect you, if you were so careless, and most importantly, if you weren’t with him. His job gave him a front row seat to the show called How fucked is this world. Nonetheless, he couldn’t let you be alone anymore. He saw you were hurting. You needed him as much as he needed you. So here you were, finally caught and he swore to never let you go again.
You don’t know how long you have been staring at each other for. Just taking the other’s presence in. How could you not realize how much you missed his face. His body. His hands on you. Slowly, the fear vanished. All that was left was your raw aching heart. And you were prepared to hand it to him, to do what he wanted with it. To stomp on it, to tear it apart and then piece it back together like only he could. Finally, his lips met yours in a longing, sorrowful kiss. The kiss, that held the unspoken words you both never got the chance to say.
After pulling away, he grabbed your ankles and forced your legs open. His actions were overwhelming, eyes never leaving yours. Anticipation started building up, once your skirt was bunched around your waist. He growled at the sight of your plain white cotton panties. Despite them being his favourite, they were mercilessly torn to pieces.
He has been patient for too long, now it was time for him to get a taste. Not wasting any more time, his tongue met your wet pussy in one long hot lick, making your back arch in pure pleasure. Moans started spilling from your mouth as his tongue did wonders on your clit. After months apart, you were getting close embarrassingly fast, squirming under him. He was having none of that as he held your hips still. Desperate moans left your mouth, letting him know how close you were. His tongue started moving faster, invading your pulsing entrance. You wanted, no, needed to cum. Grabbing his hair, you pulled him closer to where you needed him the most. Your actions earned a growl from him. Caused vibrations went straight to the tightening coil in your lower belly. You moaned loudly, not caring about the co-workers behind thin walls or unlocked doors. You were just about to cum when he pulled away, earning a whiny moan in protest.
He unzipped his pants and pulled out his pre-cum leaking cock. He lined himself with your entrance and looked you in the eyes. Ever so slowly, he pushed in, feeling you stretch around him. Grabbing his forearm for support, you felt his muscles flex. Never breaking the eye contact, he bottomed out and he claimed you with his words: “You’re mine.”
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SHADOW AND BONE FANDOM! I guess more Grishaverse fandom? who tf knows. ANYWAY I’m coming here in the tags to ask you a question: I have never felt the need to write fanfiction for a piece of media before and actually publish it. However i do have ideas for stuff within this incredible universe. Unfortunately they’re not darklina ideas though i can feel a hades/persephone au coming on that might be modern? i don’t know about that yet. here are the ideas i do have:
Sun summoners are supposed to be a myth in the time before Alina Starkov. However a girl in a tiny East Ravkan village has proven that small science can be learned through study, unlocking the ability to summon light among other things. Her findings bring the attention of Drüskelle to her village and she (and her twin sister) survive due only to the army’s intervention. With the gaze of the world on her and a distrust of anyone from beyond her village’s borders, just what will she do with her powers?
(ideas for this include: exploring what people can do with small science, a failed attempt of manipulating someone on the darkling’s part, the effects of trauma on someone’s ability to trust, sibling bonds, what does a country mean to you when they’ve consistently let you down, and the determination of one person against everyone else. I don’t foresee romance yet but -shrugs- might happen.)
Instead of the events in the Fold between Alina and the Darkling ending with her alive, Alina sacrificed herself to ensure the Darkling couldn’t use the connection between them. Years later her headpiece is found during an expedition across the fold and picked up, given to the protagonist by a friend. This piece of jewelry contains pieces of Alina’s connection to the Darkling, calling him out of hiding. The protagonist must keep the headpiece safe while trying to find a way to use it against him.
(ideas include: Protag being alina reincarnated? Maybe, Protag is definitely a sun summoner but never knew, Stalkling Darkling as I’m calling him, What happens when the mantle of a saint/martyr is put on one’s shoulders, unlikely friendships, potential romance if protag is alina reincarnated, psychological horror bits, KETTERDAM :D and general ignorance of canon to make an entirely new story.)
I’d love input on which sounds more appealing! I’ll probably end up writing both but i wanna focus on one while i wait for AO3 to invite me into their ranks lol. Also please know that the protagonist i’m creating for the headpiece story appears to be disabled in some way. I’m not sure how, i’m early on in the process.
but if that offends you in any way frankly why are you even in the fandom when one of the best characters is Kaz, a man with a limp and a motherfucking cool cane?
ALL THAT TO SAY that like i mentioned before, i’d love input. I’m not one to put my work out there at all so this is a huge leap for me. But so far everyone’s seemed super nice so i want to give back to the fandom that’s made me so happy and joyful even in the one month i’ve been in it.
#shadow and bone#grishaverse#darklina#shadow and bone fanfiction#grishaverse fanfiction#idk what else to tag this with for it to be seen lmao
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FanFiction GilArt and Gilthur progression.
Some of you know this, but I also write fanfic. (lol) And I would like to talk about their progress today.
First I would like to tell you about Dark Road Part 1: Corrpted Love. (Arturia x Gilgamesh)
The fic is published in English on Ao3
- https://archiveofourown.org/works/18010460/chapters/42551153
English and French on Wattpad
- https://www.wattpad.com/story/180591063-corrupted-love-en-dark-road-part-1
- https://www.wattpad.com/story/203539702-corrupted-love-fr-partie-1-dark-road
In French on Fanfiction.net
- https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13484298/1/Dark-Road-Corrupted-Love-Book-1
In this story, Arturia is captured by Gilgamesh during the 5th Holy Grail War in Fuyuki and she is plunged into remnants of the 4th Grail Mud. So she becomes Alter. She escapes Gilgamesh and is now looking for what to do while the 5th war is not over.
The story is a bit long and the development is long. I already know how part 1 and part 2 will end. I'm just stuck on chapters 10, 11 and 12 because they will influence later in part 1. I also liked seeing part 3 of Heaven Feels ... but it's long, so long ...
Progression:
French: 9 /?
I am waiting to unlock myself for chapter 10, 11 and 12 to finish writing them, the rest will come by itself.
English: 5 /?
Chapter 5 took 6 months to be translated. I was very annoyed so I haven't requested a new translation since. But I decided to do it myself and Chapter 6 should be out shortly.
Secret Relationship (Arthur x Gilgamesh) (/! \ Lots of mature undertones)
The fic is published in English on Ao3
- https://archiveofourown.org/works/26667121/chapters/65038378
English on Wattpad
- https://www.wattpad.com/story/242349795-secret-relationship-en-arthur-x-gilgamesh
Arthur is a student and Gilgamesh is a teacher. They have a secret love, and they are rather impatient for Arthur to finish his studies. It isn’t a story with chapters that follow directly. (Be careful, this is Bottom Arthur, Not everyone can appreciate, but as I can easily imagine the Gilart couple, seeing Gilgamesh at the Top is so easy for me.)
It wasn't a long story. I'm going to write 2 more chapters and close this funny little story ^^.
Progression:
2/4
I rewrote Chapter 3 because I spoke about a topic that I have no knowledge of at all and it was way too serious compared to the rest of the content. So chapter 3 in progress :)
Little loves (Arturia x Giglamesh)
The fic is published in English, on Ao3 (Only for registrants, for the moment.)
- https://archiveofourown.org/works/28296006/chapters/69336447
Small romantic, funny, dramatic or other stories. Moments between Arturia and Gilgamesh in different AUs. Stories do not follow each other, unless otherwise specified.
Progression:
1 /?
Chapter 2 is awaiting translation.
Two Kings, One Love (Arthur x Giglamesh)
The fic is published in English, on Ao3 (Only for registrants, for the moment.)
- https://archiveofourown.org/works/28295067/chapters/69334341
The story is full of characters, with a lot of Arthurs and Gilgameshs. Everything happens in Chaldea in FGO. The scenes show the characters interacting with each other, in different situations. In parallel, the origin of all this will be presented.
The chapters are short and straightforward.
Progression:
1 /?
Chapter 2 is awaiting translation. (I would put a link on a tumblr post in Chapter 2 to introduce all the people and their links. It will be easier for you ^^.)
Life goes on (Arthur x Gilgamesh, Arturia x Enkidu, Arturia x Gilgamesh)
In French only on Wattpad
- https://www.wattpad.com/story/252923753-life-goes-on
Sad story. I cried while writing it, made others cry. This story was first published in "Arturia's Paths", but it deserved its own book.
Arturia the orphan meets Arthur and Gilgamesh who was waiting for their friends Enkidu. Enkidu falls in love, there will be revelations, but life spares no one.
Progression:
Completed 4/4
Part 4 is exclusively Arturia x Gilgamesh, you don't need have to read it.
------
- I will now present to you two OS that were written a long time ago, whose narration is not extraordinary ... so excuse them for the content ...
OS - The mud of the 4th war (Arturia x Gilgamesh) (NSFW) Written in 2019.
In French only on Wattpad
- https://www.wattpad.com/story/202728775-the-mud-of-the-4th-war-fr-18-arturia-saber-x
OS - Double Expresso (Arthur x Gilgamesh) Written in 2019
In French only on Wattpad
- https://www.wattpad.com/story/205248151-double-expresso-fr-arthur-x-gilgamesh
-----
Then other Series of Stories that will be recycled into other things, maybe. (Secret Relationship comes from one of them ...)
Arturia's Paths (Arturia x?)
In French only on Wattpad
- https://www.wattpad.com/story/222948504-arturia%27s-paths-fr
The idea here was to create a particular profile for Arturia and each chapter made her interact with different characters from Fate. But I mostly imagined Arturia x Gilgamesh, so I prefer to recycle the contents and put them in "Little Loves".
Little Fanfics (Gilgamesh x Arturia / Arthur)
In French only on Wattpad
- https://www.wattpad.com/story/235267211-petites-fanfics-fr-gilgamesh-x-arturia-arthur
Here, I do not really advise you to read. You can try, but the stories are going to be recycle and they are very poorly written. This summer I was overbooked and to put up with it, I wrote little stories without bothering to reread or correct myself. Because I didn't have time and I was very tired.
There may be future updates in this story book, but mostly it will be rough writing that I don't know where to put.
(Some fic have covers from different artists. It's temporary, I'm counting personalized ones soon.)
(I know, there are Fics in French. But I am not English either and I managed as best I could to read the stories in English. So it's not impossible ^^)
Good reading !
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~ 30 Questions Tag ~
Got tagged by @illicitfuck thank you Rei for thinking of me <3 you made my day you have no idea how much I love tags and answering questions :D
1) name/nickname: Not sharing my real name on here and I also don’t really have a nickname but I use Persephone for writing and stuff so maybe you could say that that is my nickname. (Feel free to call me Persephone on here if you want to :D)
2) star sign: Taurus
3) height: 5′3 / 160 cm
4) birthday: May 6th
5) favorite bands: Måneskin (thanks Rei for already putting them here :P :D), The Rolling Stones, The Bee Gees, Muddy What?, Santana, Rosenstolz, Electric Light Orchestra, BAP, Smokie and a lot more that don’t come to my mind right now :D
6) time: 9:30 pm
7) favorite solo artists: Oh god let me think I don’t even listen to that many solo artists on a regular basis (like in more than just a few songs of them)... okay here is what came to my mind: Lucky Dube, Suzi Quatro, Frank Sinatra, Harpo... that’s all I could come up with sorry :D
8) song stuck in your head: Amandoti Cover by Måneskin
9) last movie you watched: Twilight
10) Dream Trip: Right now I just want to be somewhere at the ocean like Italy or Greece (but somewhere not so touristy because I don’t like people :D) and just chill there and relax. My future dream trip I hope I can do after my graduation in 2 years is going to Botswana for 2 Month.
11) Last Show: Young Royals on Netflix
12) When I Created This Blog: When I started writing fanfictions about 3 years ago.
13) What I Post: Whatever I am obsessed with which right now is Måneskin :D and random thoughts or stuff I like or find funny or important :D Idk I just post about whatever I like :D
14) Last thing I googled: “In which direction to turn your key to open the front door ” (The story behind this: I moved into a new apartment two weeks ago and it’s all new and it has super heavy doors that are so fucking hard to open and after desperately trying to unlock the stupid door for five minutes I wasn’t so sure anymore about which way is the right way to turn the key because neither way worked and I was afraid of breaking the key if I accidently turn it to hard in the wrong direction. End of story: I called my bf almost crying asking if he remembered which direction is the right one and he did and then I tried again with full force and the damn thing finally opened)
15) Other Blogs: None
16) Do I get asks? Sometimes but not many but I’d love to get more so if you wanna ask me anything or talk to me please feel free it always makes me so happy if people want to talk to me :)
17) Why I Chose My URL: Because it’s who I am, just another obsessed fangirl :D
18) Following: 167
19) Followers: Tumblr says 1212 but most of these are bots because if I post something there are usually about 10 people who interact with my posts (unless something goes viral in a tag of course) It’s very annoying because I’d actually like to know how many people are really following me and are interested in my stuff but I guess I’ll just never know...
20) Average Hours Of Sleep: I need 7-8 hours minimum and if I get less than 6 hours I feel like shit
21) Lucky Number: 13, 7, 2, 21 (just numbers I like for whatever reason when I was a teenager 13 definitely was my lucky number)
22) Instruments: None because sadly I have no musical talent :/ I tried to teach myself playing guitar when I was 16 but I failed :D But I am actually thinking of trying to learn an instrument again these days just because I find it very cool to make your own music and it’s just such a nice way to express yourself and tbh also because of Vic De Angelis and her bass :D
23) What Am I Wearing: I just took a bath and just put on some comfy clothes after so I am simply wearing sweat pants and one of my bf’s shirts I stole from him because I like oversized shirts :D
24) Dream Job: Being an actress. It simply is my passion. Right now I am studying social work though (which I like too) but I am trying to do some acting on the side because seriously when I am infront of a camera I just feel like that’s where I belong. I just did some filming in May and June and when I was on set I realized that I haven’t been that happy and didn’t feel that much like myself since years and even if it’s just a no budget movie for now it’s like one step closer to my dream. Also I could totally imagine working part time as a social worker but also doing acting jobs because it would certainly put some pressure off if I’d have a steady income and can just choose whatever projects I like without necessarily having to earn a living with it (not that I’d complain lol) :D
25) Favorite Food: Pasta & Potatoes in any form. :D Oh and Antipasti because I just love having many different dishes to choose from.
26) Tea or Coffee: I drink neither of it regularly.
27) Nationality: German.
28) Favorite Song: Right now Vent’anni by Måneskin (and basically half of their discography)
29) Last Book I Read: The midnight rose by Lucinda Riley
30) Top 3 Fictional Universes I Would Like To Live In:
1. Harry Potter Universe (because we don’t like JKR in this house but we certainly love the Potterverse especially if we can make it so queer that JKR would faint lol)
2. Maybe “Die jungen Ärzte” (= ”The young doctors”) It’s a german medical drama series maybe you could compare it to Grey’s Anatomy just less dramatic and with more happy endings :D anyway I just love that series and the actors and the characters and I’d really like to live in that universe just so I could for once have such caring and nice doctors treating me who’d magically find a solution for my chronic illness just like they always do on TV :D
3. Idk does the kind of fictional Universe where I am friends with Måneskin count? :D
I am tagging: @parva-noctua @ginny-lily @bexfangirlforlife and everyone who wants to do this, no pressure though :)
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You & Me : chapter 38
A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA
Sequel to AM CONVERSATIONS
CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11 || CHAPTER 12 || CHAPTER 13 || CHAPTER 14 || CHAPTER 15 || CHAPTER 16 || CHAPTER 17 || CHAPTER 18 || CHAPTER 19 || CHAPTER 20 || CHAPTER 21 || CHAPTER 22 || CHAPTER 23 || CHAPTER 24 || CHAPTER 25 || CHAPTER 26 || CHAPTER 27 || CHAPTER 28 || CHAPTER 29 || CHAPTER 30 || CHAPTER 31 || CHAPTER 32 || CHAPTER 33 || CHAPTER 34|| CHAPTER 35 || CHAPTER 36 || CHAPTER 37
NOTES:
-one chapter is her pov, the next is his
-4.3k - 4.9k
-im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it.
-there WILL be smut. but not only smut.
-this is a romance, comedy, smut story.
-for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.
READ AM CONVERSATIONS AGAIN ON WATTPAD HERE
- notes: nothing happened yet things happened? idk how i feel about this, i just hope you enjoy it, thank you guys for sticking up to this story ilysm!! oh and i chose this gif just because hes sweating lmao youre welcome! i hope this chapter gets more notes than the last haha
if you want to be on the list of blogs i notify when this is updated, just message me :)
requests! : i added as many as possible lol i even got one WHILE i was writing and added it lmao!
TAKE A LOOK AT THE CHARACTERS HERE
Chapter 38 : Her chapter
OLIVIA
April 17th, 2018
"You know what people say when they see a fat girl run." I just let out, raising my nose in a grimace as I tied up my shoes.
"I'm not really the type to listen to stupid people's opinion." Niall replied, making me roll my eyes and sigh before getting up. "And you shouldn't either."
He had convinced me to go run with him and I regretted my 'yes' half a second after agreeing but the way his face illuminated told me that it was too late to go back. I hated running and he knew it, and I was pretty sure he was aware of the sacrifice it was for me. I normally always quote the movie "The Faculty" when he mentions running, because i believe there's no truer words than Casey's line at the beginning of the movie when he says 'I don't think that a person should run unless he's being chased.", even if it's sort of ironic since the characters end up running away from an alien who wants to infect them the whole movie. Well, I would probably run if an alien was trying to infect me, too. And apparently, I would also run if it made Niall happy.
"It's easy for you. You've always been popular and cute and all the girls were in love with you."
"That is a big load of bullshit." he chuckled, shaking his head. "I've been told 'no' many, many times."
"I would like to see the statistics of the number of girls telling you 'no' versus the number of girls telling you 'yes."
This time, he's the one who rolled his eyes but he still had a cute smile gracing his lips and it made mine curl, too.
My parents were spending the whole day at friends' house. It was planned before I told them I'd come and visit them and even if they told me they'd cancel, I insisted that they'd just go. I didn't want to ruin their plans, I knew it was some anniversary or something similar and I could spend one day alone with Niall. Easily. Hell, I wanted to spend way more than one day with him.
"The only statistic I care about is this one." he started, clearing his throat. "How much do you love me, on a scale of 1-10."
I let out a genuine laughter and it made his lips curl. "That scale reaches the sky and it's too far away for me to see any number but there's like, 10 digits."
He took a step closer and I moved my chin up as he bent down to press his lips against mine. It felt so good to be back into this, to have a routine together, and to be happy without stress. I wouldn't go as far as saying it was exactly how it used to be but If I took the time to really think about it, it was even better. Back then, he was a bit immature and I was extremely insecure. Those two flaws sort of clashed together and made our relationship so much harder to handle. Now, I was not as insecure, and he didn't seem immature anymore, and I really felt like it could work between us.
We walked out but started running as soon as we were down the stairs. I let out a short groan of annoyance and it made him laugh. I knew he was going slowly just for me and it made me feel a bit guilty. At the same time, I was doing this for him and because he insisted, so the least he could do was wait for me, right? I don't know how long we ran but I hated it. I hated the burning sensation and the dry feeling in my throat, i hated the sweat on my back, and i hated the pain in my legs. God, I hate running. But then I turned to look at him and something twisted in my stomach and I bit my bottom lip. I loved watching him sweat. There was something sexy in watching him like that but it was not really the time and place to jump on him, unfortunately.
"How's your asthma?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.
"Tolerable." I said, glancing at him again. "How's your grandpa knee?"
He chuckled and shook his head, making me smile more. "Could be worse."
After a while, I just stopped, feeling a cramp hurting like hell on my side, and held myself on my knees. He stopped next to me and bent down to look at me. He looked amazing, how did he fucking look so good all the damn time?
"You okay? Enough for today?"
I nodded and he smiled but I held my breath when I felt his hand on my back. I was in it so deep but I secretly hoped that I would never have to hurt again. I had new limits that I wanted to respect but I wouldn't ask him about every single girl gravitating around him, or cry myself to sleep because of a comment online. However, I would still get pissed if he let an other woman who clearly wants in his pants put her number in his phone, and I wouldn't accept him flirting with random girls at bars. The first time we dated, everything seemed to get to me but this time, It would be different. I would choose my battles and not get insecure about every little thing I see. I believed in myself more and I was convinced it helped me believe in him more, too.
We walked back home quickly and from time to time, I could feel his fingers brush against mine. It's in times like these that I really just wished we could be a normal couple. I knew he would be unhappy if he didn't do music for a living, and it would be a shame if his talent and songs weren't heard by millions of people, but selfishly, sometimes, I wished we could just walk around hand in hand without being scared of the comments, the articles and the hate.
I unlocked the door and when I took my shoes off, I grimaced and groaned low, moving my toes and quickly pulling on my socks., leaving them by the door.
"Petal, you reek." he let out before I turned around, raising my eyebrows. He chuckled and shrugged. "It's true, you smell so bad right now."
"I know!" I finally admitted in a laugh.
"But hey, you don't smell as bad as I do." he added, making me laugh more.
"That's practically impossible." I joked as he stuck his tongue out at me.
I watched him bend down and rub his knees and I bit my bottom lip as I felt a wave of intense love for him wash through me. I took a step closer and he moved his body up before looking in my eyes. I tilted my head, nibbling on my lip again and reached for the bottom of his shirt, finally pulling it up. He moved his arms up to help me as we kept staring at each other. A small smile draw itself on my lips and I just licked them, letting his shirt fall in the floor. Slowly, I let my hands run on his chest, my fingertips brushing against his nipples and moving down to his stomach. I felt my heart hit so hard against my rib cage that I thought it was going to escape. I could feel the sweat on my fingers and for some odd reason, it turned me on even more. My hands stopped at the top of his shorts and he raised his eyebrows.
"Are you gonna take them off, too?" he asked in a low tone.
"You know what I really want?" I asked in a low tone, ignoring his question as my forefingers hooked in the sides of his shorts, pulling them down slowly. He raised his eyebrows to incite me to talk and I smiled more. "Your dick in my mouth."
He didn't answer anything but his lips parted slightly and I slowly got down on my knees, bringing his shorts and boxers with me. I took his cock in my hand and when I got closer, he quickly stopped me.
"Wait!" he let out. I frowned and looked up but he just sighed. "We really need to get in the shower, first."
I stared at him for a few seconds and finally let out an amused chuckle before finally getting back up. He smirked and moved his upper body closer, his lips dangerously close to mine, before reaching for the bottom of my shirt.
"I honestly don't want you to be disgusted by my dick forever." he let out, making me chuckle again.
"Can't happen. But you're right, we should get clean first. Then fuck. And then get clean again." I proposed, making him raise his eyebrows up and down.
"And then maybe fuck again, yea?"
I smiled more at his words and nodded. "Yes."
He moved closer and kissed me, taking a few steps my way and forcing me to move back. He took my shirt off, throwing it on the floor, and I started laughing against his mouth when I accidentally stepped on something and ended hitting my back on the wall.
"Fuck, I love your clumsy ass." he whispered, slithering one of his arms around my waist as the other reached for my breasts. "And your tits, too." His hand moved down and slipped in my panties, making my eyes roll back as I leaned my head against the wall. "And your perfect little fanny, too."
He crashed his mouth against mine too as he flicked his fingertip on my clit a few times, making me whimper before he just took his hand away to pull on one side of my pants. I helped him with the other and stepped out of them. We were both just making out naked against the wall at my parents' house and I couldn't remember the last time I felt this horny. Was that adrenaline or something?
"Mm, your parents aren't coming back soon, right pet?" he asked in-between kisses as he pressed his body against mine. "Because they probably wouldn't enjoy the trail of our clothes on the floor that leads to the bathroom."
I laughed and shook my head as he pulled away. My eyes roamed on his face and It just hit me again how much I loved him.
"No, they'll be gone until very late tonight."
"Good."
He kissed me again and after a while, he pulled me to the bathroom and I tried to keep my mouth against his in a failed attempt as he bent down to start the shower. We laughed against each other's lips and ended up under the stream. I shivered as he grabbed the soap and poured some in my hands before doing the same in his. I washed myself quickly, staring at his hands moving on his body and when he reached his half-hard cock, I felt my heart jump in my chest.
"Sit on the side of the bath." he told me, making me obey immediately.
I was grateful that he didn't ask me to get on my knees because there's honestly nothing more uncomfortable for the knees than a bath. He moved closer and I smiled more when I realized his cock was at the perfect height. I felt like I hadn't had his cock in my mouth for so long and I took it as deeply as I could, making him groan low. I felt him swell on my tongue and spread my knees apart, bringing one of my hands between my legs.
"Mm, don't stop darling, do that thing you always do."
I chuckled low and pushed on the skin of his cock just to run the tip of my tongue between it and his tip, making one of his legs shake slightly. I used my fingers too, touching exactly the same spot and his head moved again to look down at me.
"That feels like I'm just cumming over and over again, fuck!"
I kept going for a while and finally ran my tongue on his length until his balls. He grabbed his cock in one of his hands and started stroking himself. I stuck my tongue out and felt his balls rub and bounce on my tongue with every jerk of his hand. I moved closer and sucked on one of until he grabbed my hair and pulled my head away gently.
"Open your mouth."
I did as asked and gently, he pushed his had cock in my mouth until I choked and pulled slightly away. I could feel him throb on my tongue and I let two of my fingers rub my clit gently as I sucking him harder.
"Stick your tongue out."
I looked up at him a bit innocently and opened my mouth, sticking my tongue out for him. He kept jerking himself hard, brushing his tip on my tongue as he did, and after about a minute, he let out a low groan.
"Fuck, I missed cumming on that tongue."
My eyes closed for a few seconds when his cum spurted on my cheeks, lips and tongue but I moved closer to suck on his tip again, my hands reaching for his balls as he kept stroking himself until he got down from his high. I never really enjoyed the taste but Niall’s orgasms were different, and I knew it probably only had to do with the love I felt for him, but it didn’t matter. He tasted good and I loved pleasing him. He panted for half a minute and finally grabbed my arms to pull me up gently.
"Even if you look really good like that..." he started, bringing me under the stream. "Let me help you."
Slowly, he ran his fingers on my cheeks before moving down to my lips, taking the vestige of his orgasm off. My heart jumped in my chest when he kissed me deeply and I moaned in his mouth as his hands ran on my breasts.
"You need an orgasm too." he pointed out as I nodded. "Sit back down."
I did what he told me to and frowned a bit when he got on one knee, knowing how much it hurts. We could both feel the water falling on us but when he moved his lips to my neck, I let my head fall back and closed my eyes. Two of his fingers slipped inside me as he nibbled on the skin of my neck and he started fucking me slowly. His mouth moved down to my breast and the way he sucked and licked my nipples made my fingers rub against the bath in a weird and annoying sound.
"You're gonna let me fuck you hard later today, won't you princess?"
I shivered, realizing I hadn't heard that nickname in a while, and finally nodded. "Mmhm, whenever you want, wherever you want, for as long as you want. You know I'm all yours."
"Fuck, say it again."
He started finger fucking me harder and I felt my breasts press against his chest as he bit my neck harder.
"I'm yours, Niall, I'm all yours." I let out in a mix of a whimper and a whisper.
"Get up."
I felt a bit too weak to do it but I still managed and when I felt his mouth crush on my pussy, I leaned my head against the cold and hard shower wall. I brought on of my legs up on the side of the bath and focused on the way his tongue skillfully sucked and licked my pussy until I felt an orgasm hit me without warning.
"Oh fuck! Niall!"
I reached for his hair and pulled on it hard, making sure his face stayed between my legs and It took me all my strength not to literally let myself fall at the bottom of the bath. When he got back up, he wrapped his arms around me and I allowed myself to get weak close to him, making him laugh.
"Good?" he asked. I nodded, brushing my nose against his wet neck and whimpered low. "Hungry?"
----
The park was not too crowded and the sun was slowly setting. We started eating the lunch we had prepared together and I surprised myself wishing every day would be like that. It was ridiculous and impossible, but a girl could dream, right?
"What do you think would have happened if we never broke up?" I asked, staring at my water bottle before looking up in his eyes.
He was staring at me, his eyebrows raised and his lips curled into a pensive expression. He looked adorable and I smiled fondly at him. He shook his head slightly and grabbed his fork, playing with his food for a few more seconds.
"I don't know. I like to think I would have matured anyway and wouldn't be a prick but you never know." he explained with a shrug.
"You think you would have cheated on me?"
His head snapped up to look at me and he shook his head harder this time. "No. I was a flirt, but I was not a cheater, I promise."
Obviously, we would never know, and from what I had seen of Niall, he normally broke up with the girl before giving in to anyone else... well, except with me. It made me realize he had cheated on two girls with me and I tried to push away the guilt invading me. After all, I had cheated on Dylan too. The fact that he knew and had decided to ignore it didn't make my action less painful, or okay. We both had cheated and there was no excuse for it.
"You cheated with me. I did too. We both cheated. On Heidi and Dylan, and that was so wrong."
"I know." he sighed. "We can't go back. I mean I wish I could say I regret it, but I don't. It lead us here."
I sent him a sad smile and nodded. I wanted so much for us and even if I still had a few doubts, I wanted us to work. I wanted us to make efforts into this, but I couldn't make them for him. All I knew was that I was going to do everything I could to make this work, and from the way he had been acting with me lately, I was pretty sure he would do the same.
"So what's gonna happen to us now, Niall?" I asked softly. "What's our future together?"
He looked down immediately and it made me frown. Did he have something to hide? I couldn't start thinking like that again, I couldn't start analyzing his every move. I breathed it and let it go, simply tilting my head.
"We'll love each other, become official whenever you're ready, maybe even start attending galas and shit together, perhaps." he proposed, shrugging a shoulder and making me laugh.
"Yea, that's not really your type of things." I pointed out.
"Well it's different with you. Everything is different with you. In a good way. In the best way."
Without thinking, I held myself on the grass between us and leaned my upper body his way to reach his lips with mine. He kissed me back and after a while, he deepened the kiss. I didn't feel nervous, or stressed, and I didn't give a fuck about who could see us.
"I love you. I want to spend my life with you." I whispered. "I know these words used to scare you... how do they make you feel, now?"
I pulled away enough to be able to look in his eyes and his lips curl into a genuine smile.
"Like the happiest man in the world."
My lips curled into a happy smile as something stirred in my stomach. "You're so full of shit, Horan."
He brought one of his hands to my cheek and I leaned against it without thinking.
"I mean it Liv. Trust me." he murmured as I felt his breath hit my chin.
I breathed in deeply and pressed my lips together before whispering too. "I do. I trust you."
---
We ended up watching tv together in the living room after the sun was set and I knew my parents could be back any minute, making me wonder if we had time to fuck or if we should just wait until they would be in bed.
"I wish you'd come with me in Germany." he let out randomly, taking me out of my thoughts.
"You... you know I have to go back in California soon." I explained, feeling my heart sink in my chest. "I mean, we can survive a few weeks away, yea?"
He turned his head my way and sighed. "Of course we can. But we shouldn't have to. And.. I don't really want to."
"I know." I said in a low tone, trying not to cry and looking down at my hands playing with the fabric of my shirt. "I mean, I don't know what else we can do. I'll try to get more weeks off but I don't know when that will be. When's your next week off?"
"Uhm, mid may, I think, but then I have to go back to the UK for that radio show thing."
"Oh." I brushed my palms on my face, suddenly tired and a bit scared, not knowing when I could be with him again. "Tell me the exact date and I'll try to fly there for a few days."
"That's in like... a month, Olivia." he let out a bit annoyed or disappointed... or both.
"I know." I whispered, swallowing hard, trying not to cry.
He sighed again and made a quick head movement. "Come here."
He didn't have to ask me twice : I threw myself against him as he wrapped his arms around me and I buried my face in his shirt, letting out a sob that I desperately tried to suppress without success.
"Hey, it'll be okay." he whispered, kissing the top of my head. "We can do this. We're stronger than ever together. Distance is alright. A month is nothing. Remember my trip to Asia?"
It's not that it was a bad example but it was a rough memory and I sniffed, shutting my eyes tighter as I tried to move closer to him. I didn't want to be a month away from him but I knew it was probably going to happen and I didn't know how to handle it. I was about to answer something when both our phones beeped and I groaned. It couldn't be a good thing and we both knew it.
"I don't want to look." I admitted low as he rubbed my back gently.
"We have to. Let's do it and then go to bed."
I sighed again and nodded as we both grabbed our phones. The problem was apparently Heidi, who had posted a bunch of song lyrics on her instagram stories, and people started speculating about who it was about. After checking, though, I knew it was about Niall. And about me a bit, too.
SHAKIRA - DONT BOTHER
She's been to private school
And she speaks perfect French
She's got the perfect friends
Oh isn't she cool?
Hey, hey
So don't bother
I won't die of deception
I promise you won't ever see me cry
Don't feel sorry
And don't bother
I'll be fine
But she's waiting
The ring you gave to her will lose its shine
So don't bother, be unkind
THE WEEKEND - CALL OUT MY NAME
We found each other
I helped you out of a broken place
You gave me comfort
But falling for you was my mistake
I put you on top, I put you on top
I claimed you so proud and openly
And when times were rough, when times were rough
I made sure I held you close to me
JUSTINE TIMBERLAKE - CRY ME A RIVER
You don't have to say, what you did
I already know, I found out from him
Now there's just no chance
With you and me
There'll never be
Don't it make you sad about it?
SAM SMITH - IM NOT THE ONLY ONE
I have loved you for many years
Maybe I am just not enough
You've made me realize my deepest fear
By lying and tearing us up
You say I'm crazy
'Cause you don't think I know what you've done
But when you call me baby
I know I'm not the only one
DRAKE - MARVINS ROOM
I'm just sayin' you could do better
Tell me, have you heard that lately?
I'm just sayin' you could do better
And I'll start hatin' only if you make me
KATY PERRY - PART OF ME
I just wanna throw my phone away
Find out who is really there for me
You ripped me off your love was cheap
Was always tearing at the seams
I fell deep, you let me down
But that was then and this is now, now look at me
LITTLE MIX - SHOUT OUT TO MY EX
This is a shout out to my ex
Heard he in love with some other chick
Yeah yeah, that hurt me, I'll admit
Forget that boy, I'm over it
I hope she gettin' better sex
Hope she ain't fakin' it like I did, babe
Took four long years to call it quits
Forget that boy, I'm over it
TAYLOR SWIFT - SHOULVE SAID NO
You should've said no, you should've gone home
You should've thought twice before you let it all go
You should've know that word, bout what you did with her
Would get back to me
And I should've been there, in the back of your mind
I shouldn't be asking myself why
You shouldn't be begging for forgiveness at my feet
You should've said no, baby and you might still have me
I can't resist, before you go, tell me this
Was it worth it
Was she worth this
SUGARLAND - BABE
What a waste
Taking down the pictures and the plans we made, yeah
And it's strange how your face doesn't look so innocent
Your secret has its consequence and that's on you, babe
Since you admitted it, I keep picturing
Her lips on your neck, I can't unsee it
I hate that because of you, I can't love you
Babe
What a shame, didn't want to be the one that got away
How could you do this, babe?
BRITNEY SPEARS - PERFUME
Do I imagine it, or do I see your stare
Is there still longing there?
Oh I hate myself, and I feel crazy
Such a classic tale
Current girl friend, ex girlfriend, I'm trying to be cool
Am I being paranoid, am I seeing things?
Am I just insecure?
I read her stories twice, three times, and I swallowed hard until I heard Niall curse under his breath next to me. It caught my attention and I sighed, licking my lips.
"She's right, you know. I don't know how she found out but, we talked about it earlier. We did cheat on them, Niall."
"Alright, but did she need to expose that on instagram?" He closed his eyes and groaned, throwing his phone on the couch and rubbing his eyes roughly. "Are you ready for the storm? You know our social medias are gonna fucking explode."
"It doesn't matter. As usual, we're just gonna stay quiet." I replied, shrugging and sighing an other time. "You should have never dated that girl."
"I know. I didn't know back then but now, I know." he confessed, shaking his head. "I didn't think she was that kind of girl."
I started laughing next to him and his eyes met mine. He raised his eyebrows an I pressed my lips together because chuckling more.
"I mean, seriously, Niall? She was always like that."
He remained quiet and moved his arm on the back of the couch before I leaned my head against it.
"I should have dated you when I was 13 and I tried to match you with Rian for no reason. I should have dated you when I was 16 and horny. I should have dated you when I joined One Direction and you messaged me all the time. I should have dated you after the Take Me Home tour, when I came back home and noticed how much you had changed. I should have dated you during our last tour, before you got attached to Harry. I should have dated you last year, when we were both miserable. I realize it's you I should have dated all those times. Whenever I dated an other girl, it should have been you."
I teared up but tried to swallow the emotions inside me but they were drowning me instead, making me dizzy and happy at the same time.
"Yea, you should have." I whispered, scared that my voice would crack. "What about now, Niall?"
"Now?" he asked gently, raising his eyebrows but his gaze never leaving mine. I felt his fingertips play with a lock of my hair and it made my heart twist in my chest. "Well now I'm here. I'm with you. And I don't intend or want to be with anyone else. Ever again."
#niall horan#niall horan smut#niall horan fluff#niall horan fanfic#niall horan fan fic#niall horan fan fiction#niall horan fanfiction#niall horan story#niall horan writing#my fanfics#yam
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What if you get really attached to a fan OC you made and want to put them in an original story? How would you deal with the legalities of that?
The “put them in an original story” part is where you negotiate that. Characters cannot (and should not) exist separate from their world. Their fictional world influences them in the same way they influence the world in turn, so if you change the world... you change the character along with it. Fans do this instinctively with AUs. If you have a Very Angry Protagonist due to their canonical war and then chuck them into a peaceful Coffee Shop AU, you need to come up with a new reason for why they’re so angry. Maybe they had a bad home life. Maybe there’s some oppressive system in place. Maybe they just pretend to be edgy because they think it’s cool. Whatever reason you choose, you theoretically want to maintain that anger as a core character trait because, as fanfiction, you want the character to be recognizable. Generally speaking, readers approach fic looking for some level of familiarity, so if the protagonist is no longer Very Angry they don’t feel like it’s that character anymore. So you adapt. For an original story though? Sky’s the limit! Not only can you make all the creative choices you’d make for an AU, you can make the character not angry anymore too. If your original novel is a coffee shop based romance you may decide that the OC you originally created doesn’t fit well into that world as they are. So you allow the world to change them, softening them, and in doing so create a new character. Few will look at Character B (original) and recognize that they were originally Character A (fanfic).
Now granted, other situations are a lot more complicated. Let’s say you create a RWBY OC with a kickass semblance and that just has to stay. Their semblance is a crucial part of who they are and you like that version of the character, not the one that exists without their semblance. So then you can consider that “semblance” really just means “power.” You can give “semblance” a new name and (theoretically) be in the legal clear. “Semblance (RWBY),” “quirk (BNHA),” “mutations (X-Men),” “nen abilities (HxH),” and “devil fruit (One Piece)” are all different names for the same basic concept: a very wide variety of superpowers. But of course, you’ll notice that there are still plenty of differences among these stories. We don’t accuse One Piece of copying X-Men because one power comes from eating a special fruit while the other is a genetic ability. Then, the component “genetic ability” changes the fictional world to a staggering degree. What happens when some people are born with powers rather than choosing to obtain them? That’s one of the questions X-Men grapples with. Similarly, RWBY has a world where people can obtain power through avenues other than semblances, so not having a semblance isn’t the end of the world. In contrast, BNHA is a world where people are still just people unless they have a quirk, making quirks a huge part of the social status. As soon as you give your power a new name you have to think about the rules behind it, and once you’ve done that you can see how those rules shape your story. This leads you further and further away from where you started: another’s work.
Now do that for every aspect of your character. If your OC is no longer living in the RWBY world, what does that world look like? If they didn’t grow up in Patch watching Atlas TV, where is their home and what did they do? If they aren’t best friends with Yang, who do they hang out with? The legal trap that fans fall into is changing the names of things and only the names. “Here’s my world of four Domains where a resource called Glitter powers almost everything. People train to become Predators, protecting the people from monsters made out of light. They can even unlock their Power. A young girl named Poppy, with incredibly rare black eyes, is set to save the world!” People are going to look at that (horrible description lol) and go, “That’s RWBY just with different terms, reversed colors, and Ruby with a new flower name.” If you put an OC into an original story, you have to make sure it is an original story, which necessitates doing that work to change the character to fit the world and the world to reflect the character. If you just try to transplant that character 100%, you’re requiring that they still exist in RWBY’s world - just with a new, deceiving coat of paint.
This is why the Fifty Shades/Twilight is so complicated because we don’t have a firm legal foundation to determine when a story is “too much” like its inspiration. On the one hand, I can walk you through both novels and point out the glaring similarities across the cast and the basic structure of the story. On the other hand... a story about a woman falling for a BDSM obsessed billionaire in the midst of modern day drama is not the story of a teenager falling in love with a vampire in the midst of werewolf drama. The book is simultaneously too similar to and nothing like Twilight, which makes determining its difference a matter of opinion, up until there’s a court case to determine that. I’d personally argue that James didn’t allow enough of those changes to carry the story forward. Meaning, she wrote a Modern AU version of Twilight, following Twilight’s beats and characters as closely as possible within the AU, then just changed everyone’s names for an “original” novel. It’s removed enough that anyone who doesn’t know the story’s origin’s won’t notice the similarities, but others have done work to demonstrate precisely how close Fifty Shades is to its fic origins, Master of the Universe... so to say it’s murky is an understatement.
The best way to avoid any legal issues is simply write an original story. Don’t try to re-create the world that your OC originally inhabited, use your OC as inspiration for something new.
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