#// what if you died . from cap brim <- happened to me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mercurygguk · 4 years ago

Text

winter soldier | jjk

genre; winter soldier/avengers au, angst/smut/fluff

pairing; winter soldier!jungkook x avenger!female reader

summary; the love of your life died during ww2, they honored his death. you had never imagined you’d ever see him again until you’d join him in death, but here he is and he’s trying to kill you. he’s not himself at all. you, however, insist that the man you used to know is still in there somewhere.

word count; 6,764

warnings; descriptions of war/battle/fight scenes, descriptions of scars, the rest of the avengers joins the party, reader is like Cap A but not like Cap A, you know??, jungkook looking hella hot with his long hair and steel arm, inspiration from ‘captain america: winter soldier’, swearing, SMUT; explicit sexual activities, oral (f. receiving), love making at its highest- nothing kinky, just plain ol’ sex

a/n; okay so um, i’m binge-watching the avengers movies atm and i was watching Captain America: Winter Soldier. i kid you not, throughout the entire movie i was imagining what jungkook would look like as the winter soldier- jungkook combined with superheroes is like the perfect story, amirite?? ;)) enjoy!

ps. once again, i didn’t proof read so ignore my possible mistakes lol

(for reference, this is what jungkook’s hair looks like in this fic)

War.

Terrorizing. Horrifying. Absolutely petrifying.

There are several words to use when talking about it, describing it, reliving it. Once you’ve experienced it, it will haunt you till the day you die and even beyond that. There isn’t much positive to take from it, not many positive memories come to you as you think back to the time during war. Only one positive memory returns to you from those dark times...

Him.

Him who did not fit in with the military services due to his lack of strength and speed. Him who never let anyone step upon him and evolved with the job. Him who never backed down from a challenge or an order given from the highest ranks. Him who had braveness unlike anyone, loyalty like no other, a will to fight for what’s worth it and to win. Him who made you fall for him without meaning to. Him who promised he would always come back to you, no matter what happened.

And then one day he didn’t. They had told you he went down in the fight, died for his country, for his team. He hadn’t hesitated to sacrifice himself, thrown himself towards the threat in the hopes of ending it for everyone once and for all. That he did. He killed himself in the process of saving everyone else.

A hero is what they had called him. Honored his name, saluting as they all stood facing his military photograph, serious faces and emotionless eyes all over. Tears had filled your eyes that day, but they didn't fall. You refused to let them. There was no way you would cry because of a liar. A coward, really. Anger kept you going, anger aimed at him. A rage so intense that you would convince yourself that you hated him. Some people would call you selfish, selfish for hating a man who sacrificed himself for everyone else. They were right. You were selfish. But love makes you selfish, and you loved him. So ridiculously much.

Years later, decades into the new century he remains as a positive yet heartbreaking and frustrating memory in your mind and heart. You haven’t aged a day thanks to the advanced technology and the project you offered to be the experiment of, in the end of the war. After his death and the war seeming more out of control than ever, you thought there wasn’t much more to live for, so you volunteered. A successful masterpiece, professor Kim had said as you regained consciousness on the lab table. You were his greatest, most succeeded experiment. You still are, except for the fact that Kim Namjoon is no longer walking among people on earth.

Now you’re living as the successful masterpiece he has created. Stronger, faster – young too even though your real age is something near 98. It doesn’t show. You look like any other 23-year-old but with extraordinary strength and speed. Being a part of a team as the Avengers truly has given you a meaning of life, a purpose that you didn’t feel you had before joining this outstanding team of superheroes as some would call you.

But as you stand here, in the middle of a battlefield that is scarily similar to those back in the 1940’s, you feel small. Gunshots fire around you, flying past your head and ringing in your ears. Explosions going off from the shots fired by Stark, Iron Man as he’s known as. The grounds breaking from the power of Thor’s hammer, the bad guys falling like flies in the hands of Widow. You’re watching it all unfold, breathing for a split second as robots are charging at you with red, glowing eyes.

For God’s sake, just how many of these are there?

Keeping yourself from rolling your eyes in pure annoyance, you set off running towards them with an unmatched speed, fists up and ready to take them out. One goes down after another, surrendering to your very angry, very powerful fists. Your patience is running thin as the robots keep appearing from left and right, setting their focus on you as demanded by whoever’s controlling them. A person you haven’t managed to find yet, but determined to hunt down and put a bullet through their head.

“Hey, Thor!” You call out to the nordic God flying around you, punching fists through robots and throwing his hammer at them. He glances your way, finding you surrounded by robots, too many for you to fight by yourself. “A lil hand here?”

He nods in response, immediately dropping to the ground and plunging his hammer into the asphalt on the ground, lightning seeping through the ground and into the robots, taking them down and splitting them in half. Thor throws a smug smirk at you before turning back around to fight another round of robots. You roll your eyes, about to run off when shots are being fired at you.

“Shit!” You hiss, running to hide behind a tipped-over truck while fishing out a gun from the strap around your thigh. You lean out, aiming in the direction of the shots. There is a man with long, dark hair, a black mask covering half his face and a silver arm that does not look familiar at all. The mysterious man steps onto the railing of the bridge he fired shots from, hard glare focused on you as he steps out and lets himself fall to the ground beneath the bridge. He lands on his feet, supporting himself with the silver fist into the asphalt. He stands to his height, walking straight towards you and leaving a mark in the asphalt where he had landed. Your eyes widen as he holds up a machine gun, opening fire at you as you scramble to run off while loading more shots into your gun.

Peeking around the corner of the brick building you’re hiding behind, you hold your gun up to aim at him. You fire a bullet, hitting his silver arm. He doesn’t budge, the bullet not even leaving a bump in the silver.

“What the-” you gape, firing shots again. He holds his silver hand up, the bullets bouncing off like they’re made of cotton, still walking towards you with eyes focused on you. There’s something about him that seems familiar – maybe his build? Or the way he walks? Or was it the slightly curly hair on top of his head? You can’t quite pin it as you watch him get closer, fists clenched tightly at his sides as if he’s ready to throw punches at you. You contemplate running to him, throwing the first punch at him before he gets to you. There is a slight hesitancy in your body as you can’t shake off how awfully familiar he seems the closer he gets to you. Knowing what the right thing to do is, you step out from your hiding spot, collecting all strength as you charge at him. A yell of anger and confusion rumbles from your chest as you jump on the last step, fist pulled back only for it to be forced forward and into the center of the mysterious man’s chest.

He stumbles back slightly, gaining his balance quickly before he steps closer, throwing a punch at you as well. You dodge, throwing your leg into his side in a strong kick. He grunts as he catches your leg, pulling on it to force you towards him. You ram into him, his clenched fist connecting with your jaw. You groan in pain as you fall to the ground, landing before his feet. Squinting at him, you watch as he kneels down over you, holding you down against the ground. As he stares at you, raising his hand to deliver a punch to your face again, you realize it as your eyes meet his. You gasp softly, not believing the sight in front of you. It’s a known fact that you would recognize those deep, brown eyes anywhere in any given moment.

“J-Jungkook?”

The sound of your voice, the sound of his name falling from your lips has him freezing for a split second. His eyes shift between yours as he slowly begins to sink his fist. But not even seconds later he’s raising his fist again and that’s when you can tell that he does not recognize you. He is looking at you as if you’re a complete stranger, like he didn’t spend the last year of his life telling you that he loved you more than life itself.

His gaze fills with the only feeling he feels, hatred. He moves to force his silver fist down and into your face, a face he used to call beautiful as he traced his finger tips along the edges. You barely dodge it, trying your very best to meet his eyes again as you call his name.

“Jungkook!” You fight the tears that are brimming your eyes as you continue to dodge his hits the best you can, “Hey! It’s me!”

He’s not holding off, continuing to throw punches at you and hitting the asphalt as you squirm in between his thighs. He’s impeccably strong, the asphalt cracking under the jabs of his fists. His thighs are keeping you in place as he pins you to the ground, your arms locked along your sides. You know he’ll punch you to death if you don’t get inside his head. It seems nearly impossible as his eyes are trained on you, emotionless and angry, only a small glimt of the man you used to know in them.

“____! Might wanna duck down a bit,” Tony shouts as he flies in your direction, his glowing hand aimed at Jungkook.

Your eyes widen in horror as you scramble together all the strength you have, throwing Jungkook off you and away from the deathly ray of light coming from Tony’s palm.

“No!”

The shot hits the asphalt a few meters away from you, nearly grazing Jungkook but it doesn’t, thankfully. Tony is shocked as he comes to a halt in the air, staring between Jungkook and you. You wave a hand at him. “I got him,” you assure him as you pant out breaths of air, nodding towards Widow and Thor, “go help the others.”

The man in the iron suit in front of you seems to hesitate for a second as he looks at you. He catches the pleading look on your face, glancing back at Jungkook for a moment before nodding at you once and flying in the direction of Widow and Thor, aiming his shots at the robots that are still coming from all sides. You turn your attention back to Jungkook, the body of the love of your life but not the eyes or mind of him.

“Jungkook,” you try again, slowly stepping closer as he stays still, slightly shocked that you had saved him from Iron Man’s deadly shot, “it’s me, ____.”

You’re begging, tone pleading him and hands up in surrender as you slowly step closer to him. He’s breathing hard, chest rising and falling in deep breaths. His eyes are dark, cold and distant as you get even closer. He’s frozen in his spot. He seems confused behind that hard expression, confused because you look less terrified than you did before realizing who he is. He doesn’t flinch or move away from your hand as it inches closer to his face, reaching for the black mask on his face.

“Hey,” you softly say, hesitating to touch him as you let a single tear escape and roll down your cheek. Something flashes in his eyes as he looks into your wet eyes, a small hint of recognition, familiarity too. Maybe he remembers. You hope he does. He lets you pull the black mask off completely, the strong line of his jaw appearing in front of you as well as his pink lips you used to kiss so often in that hidden place you liked to meet almost every night. “It’s me,” you whisper, “it’s ____.”

You’re afraid you’re imagining things as tears build up in the corner of his eyes, his jaw tightening. It’s too much for him. The memories returning with full force, the emotions filling his chest and warming it for the first time in 70 years. He wants to cry. He doesn’t know whether it's happiness because you’re right here in front of him, after he thought he would never get to see you again as he took his last breath back in 1944, or sadness because he’s well aware that he almost killed you if you hadn’t pushed him off you.

“____?” His voice betrays him as it cracks, your name coming out in a croaked voice. More tears escape as you hear your name falling from his lips for the first time since that morning in the military camp where he said ‘see you soon’ and then never returned. He freezes as you throw yourself at him, arms wrapped around him as you pull him closer in a tight hug. The sniffles and muffled cries you let out breaks his emotionless, cold heart and filling it with a warmth he hasn’t felt in so long. A tear escapes from the corner of his eye as he lets his own arms snake their way around your waist, hugging you just as tight as you hug him.

Relief.

That’s what he’s feeling.

Jungkook wanders around inside Stark’s office, eyes exploring things as he calmly runs his silver hand over them. You watch him from a few feet away, arms crossed over your chest. Worry is filling your entire body as his back is turned to you. He still doesn’t seem like himself. There is something about him that makes you anxious, something about him makes you wonder if he’ll turn at any moment, falling back into whatever sort of amnesia he has been experiencing for the past decades.

You jump in surprise when the door opens beside you, revealing Tony. He notices your jumbled state, giving you a small, half smile. You turn your eyes back to Jungkook who’s picking at an ancient-looking sculpture on Tony’s desk causing Tony to take a step closer.

“Hey! Buddy!” He calls out, catching Jungkook’s attention. “Don’t touch that, please. It’s antique.”

Jungkook steps away from the desk, hands up in mock surrender, emptiness in his eyes as if he couldn’t care less about Tony’s antique sculpture. No one really cared about that sculpture. It’s doomed to break at some point when it’s placed in his office, in the Avengers building.

“Tony,” you catch the attention of the older man, looking straight at him with hopeful, desperate eyes, “can you help him?”

He turns to face Jungkook, looking him over from head to toe. “Friday, give me a scan of whatever’s controlling Jungkook.”

Anticipated, you wait while biting a nail. Jungkook doesn’t move an inch as Friday scans him for anything to help Tony figure out a way to help. He’s glancing from Tony to you, his eyes meeting yours. Seconds. It takes seconds from his stare meeting yours to something flicking behind his dark brown irises, something inside of him snapping like the tips of someone’s fingers. Your eyes widen in panic as you move to stand between Tony and Jungkook.

“Tony!” You shout, moving fast as you try to get in between the two men. Tony has already activated his iron hand, catching Jungkook’s silver fist right before it hits him square in the face. You come to a halt, staring in surprise as Tony tightens his hold on Jungkook’s fist, forcing him to the ground. “Tony, please, don’t hurt him. He’s not in his right mind!”

“Oh, really?” Tony scoffs, sarcasm dripping from each word. A small yelp leaves your mouth as Tony kicks his knee up under Jungkook’s jaw, knocking him out. Jungkook falls limp to the floor, eyes closed as he’s kicked unconscious by Tony. You kneel down beside him, brushing his long strands of hair out of his face. He looks peaceful as he lays there, completely unconscious, and yet there’s a furrowed look on his face, like he’s never free from whatever that is controlling him. You sigh deeply, head dropping as you cradle Jungkook’s hand in your own. Tony’s palm rests on your shoulder. You glance up at him. He gives you a small, reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry, we’ll help him,” he tells you. You nod, knowing he spoke the truth.

“Thank you.”

The frustrated look and furrowed eyebrows are gone. He looks genuinely peaceful this time, long lashes resting on the top of his cheeks as he rests beneath the sheets on your bed. You can’t help yourself as you reach out, palm cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone in a soft caress. Hopefully you’ll have the love of your life back once he wakes up from the deep sleep Tony put him in.

You’re about to move away, retrieving your hand from his cheek just as you hear him whimper softly. Turning back to him, you watch as his lower lip begins to quiver, eyebrows furrowed tightly together. “No,” he whimpers again, head shaking in his sleep. “Please, no! Don’t!”

Worry fills you once again as you sit on the edge of the bed beside him, hands cupping his face between them. “Jungkook,” you softly call, trying your best to wake him without startling him. “Jungkook, my love, please wake up. Please!”

Startled, you gasp as his eyes shoot open, his lips parting as he gasps for air. He’s looking right into your startled, widened eyes. It takes a minute for him to realize who you are and where he is, the surroundings not seeming familiar at all, but it feels nice. The aura, the warmth and the dimmed lighting in the bedroom where he’s tucked under the sheets.

“Hey,” you breathe out as you smile, not sure what to say to him. Tony had made sure to help him, get whatever that was controlling him out of him, his head to himself now and slowly filling with memories, both good and bad ones. “How are you feeling?”

He groans as he moves to sit up. You help him straighten up, making sure he has a pillow for his back as he leans back against the head of the bed. He closes his eyes tightly together as he drops his head back, still trying to calm his erratic breathing. You sit back in the chair you had pulled to the bedside when you got here.

“I feel…” he begins, words feeling foreign on his tongue as he speaks with a croaking voice. He sighs deeply. This is a lot for his head to take in in just one day. “I feel like my head is about to explode.”

Your smile is careful as you look at him. “Makes sense,” you softly say, watching him glance at his arm only to notice the silver is still there, like he had hoped it would be gone. It’s easy to tell the arm itself is a symbol of a very dark time as he looks at it and then looks away from it. He isn’t fond of the silver arm, obviously having a love-hate relationship with it as it has given him power and strength he never had to begin with and problems he never voluntarily wanted in the first place. There’s pain in his eyes as he glances at you, shame as he cowers under your gaze.

You frown deeply. “What happened to you?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper. He closes his eyes, not really wishing to go back to those dark times where his life was saved and changed for the worse. The dark times where he became a shadow of himself and a manipulated soldier, brainwashed to take orders from others.

“I, uh, I don’t think-“ he stumbles over his words.

You place your hand over his actual hand, your thumb brushing the skin there. He glances at where you’re touching him before looking up at you. You’re hurting, it’s easy to see. It’s not your own pain though, it’s his. You’re feeling pain for him, hurting because he went through things he never should have, things where death would’ve been much less painful. You want to kiss him, kiss it all better if that was possible.

“You can tell me,” you whisper, pleading him to confide in you, to tell you what happened to him all those years ago.

He sighs deeply, turning his hand over to wrap it around yours. A rush runs through your stomach as he grips onto your hand with a hold so tight that you find yourself promising him silently that you’ll never let go again by giving his hand a small squeeze.

“They found me a few days later,” he starts, gaze focusing on the way yours and his fingers intertwine with each other like they’re meant to do it, “in the ruins of buildings. I-I wasn’t fully awake when they did, only just coming to my senses again after the explosion that was meant to kill me.”

You’re focusing on his hand in yours now, not able to look into his eyes as he tells the story of how he ended up here, 70 years later, and still looking like himself but with longer hair and impeccable strength.

“I didn’t recognize them. They wouldn’t tell me anything. They took me to this place, a bunker or something like that. There was this huge laboratory inside with equipment way ahead of its time,” he looks confused as he relives the horrifying moments, “I was placed in a chair and the next thing I know they’re sawing my arm off-“

You whimper. “Oh, god,” tears dwell in your eyes as you grip his hand tightly.

“____, I have never felt as much pain as I did that day,” he looks you straight in the eye, the pain from that day flashing over his face as he recalls it, the feeling of it. “And all I could think about while they turned me into this- this monster… was that I lied to you.”

You shake your head in denial. “No, Jungkook,” you whisper, “you couldn’t know. You couldn’t.”

He offers you a small half-smile, remorse covering his features as he reaches up with his silver hand, careful as he lets the fingertips of it brush your hair out of your face.

“I’m sorry I gave you an empty promise,” he whispers, silver fingertips brushing against the side of your face. You cover it with your own hand, letting him cup your face in the cold silver. He leans closer, hissing lightly as pain shoots up the side of his torso. “I’m sorry that I didn’t come back to you like I promised.”

“You did though,” you sigh deeply, resting your forehead against his. “You’re right here.”

He nods softly, his eyes shifting between yours.. “and I won’t leave again,” he assures you before hesitating, shrugging as he adds; “unless you want me to.”

You chuckle through the tears that had built up in your eyes. He’s smiling at you as you reach up to cup his face in your palms, brushing your thumb across his cheeks. He’s watching you, still not quite believing that you’re here with him. After so long. 70 years of wondering if you’re still alive. 70 long years of wondering where you were in the world. 70 unbearable years of longing for your touch, your soft, plump lips that made his heart stop beating for a few seconds each time they would touch his in a kiss.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” he whispers into the small gap of air space between you and him. “Each time I’d return from a mission and become myself again after being under mind-control, you were the first thing on my mind. To be honest, I don’t think you ever left it. You’ve always been there with me, in the deepest parts of my consciousness. You kept me sane during the missions, kept me from forgetting myself completely.”

Listening intently, you close your eyes as your thumbs continue to brush over the skin on his cheeks. He continues, a deep sigh falling from his lips and clashing against yours causing goosebumps to rise upon your body. You’re shocked that you have gone this far without smothering him in kisses. You don’t want to risk anything, waiting patiently for him to make the first move in the direction of more physical affection, whether it’s a touch of his hand, a hug or more.

“And when I realized it was you earlier today...” his voice cracks, “when I realized I almost killed you- I don’t think I can ever forgive myself for that.”

“You can and you will,” you softly tell him, the undertone of your voice stern, “you didn’t kill me. You wouldn’t. You were gonna recognize me sooner or later.”

He exhales shakily. “You don’t know that,” he almost snaps, eyes closed tightly as he drops his silver hand from your face. He pulls away from your touch, the warmth of him disappearing the further he moves away. He’s not looking at you. Tears are threatening to spill as you stare back at him, lips slightly parted as you want to speak up. You want to tell him he’s wrong, but you already know that he will not take your words for what they are. He, and you, know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t pushed him off when you did.

“You’re right,” you say, catching his attention again. He barely glances at you, noticing the small remnants of tears in your eyes before looking back at his silver hand, clenching and unclenching it. A tear rolls down your cheek. “You’re so right, Jungkook. I don’t know if you would or not.”

You get up from the chair you’ve been sitting in since you brought him back to your apartment. Jungkook still refuses to look at you as you move onto the bed, crawling closer to him. You don’t hesitate as you lay a hand on his shoulder and throw a leg over his to straddle his lap. He finally looks at you, eyes slightly widened at your actions. His eyes meet teary ones again, his silver arm moving out of an old habit as he reaches up to wipe your tears away.

“But I like to think you would.”

Your lips press against his before he can reply to your words. Jungkook gasps and then grunts in response as you press your mouth to his, desperately and needy. His body freezes beneath you as you kiss him, tasting his lips for the first time in an unbearably long time. It takes him a while to realize that you’re kissing him, finally kissing you back as he cradles you in his arms, pulling you closer to his chest. The silver arm keeps a tight grip around your waist, holding you in place as the other runs up your thigh.

Pulling away, you gasp for air, letting your forehead rest against his. Jungkook is breathing heavily, his breath once again clashing against yours as you both catch your breath. Your eyes meet, seconds after he’s kissing you again, your tank top riding up as the silver arm keeps you tight against him. The silver touching your skin causes goosebumps to cover your skin, a chill running up your spine as you cup his face. His tongue licks against your bottom lip, you let him in. A moan escapes your lips as his tongue touches yours.

“I’ve been holding myself back ever since you woke up,” you whisper against his lips, making him smile as his hands slide under your top, pushing it up before pulling it over your head completely. You return to his lips, catching them with your own as you reach for the hem of his t-shirt. He helps you pull it off, your mind elsewhere as you throw it onto the floor. Your hands rake down his body, over the tensing muscles of his abdomen as he moves his kisses down your cheek and further under your jaw. Your breathing is ragged as you pull away, only a few inches so you can glance down at his torso. The sight horrifies you, your fingertips brushing over scars and healed wounds.

“Oh my god,” you whisper as you glance up at Jungkook, his eyes meeting yours for a few seconds before you look back at his chest. Your eyes wander, over his both small and larger scars to his silver arm. You feel your heart tightening as you take in the way the silver arm is sewed onto his body. You hesitate to reach up, Jungkook’s eyes on you as you let your shaking fingertips brush over the burned, scarred skin that keeps the silver arm attached. “I- This…”

His human hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb caressing your skin. “I know,” he agrees without hearing the rest of the sentence. You look back at him, finding relief in his eyes as you rest your palms against his chest. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” he then says.

“They literally cut off your arm,” you point out, shaking your head in disbelief. You can’t even imagine how much pain he must’ve been in when they did this to him. “I wish I could have spared you this pain, spared you the torture you went through.”

He smiles softly. “I know, ____. But there's no way you possibly could’ve.”

You're carefully running your pointer finger along one of his scars when you look up at him, eyelashes framing your eyes so perfectly. He thinks you’re absolutely beautiful, even more so than the last time he saw you. You can’t do anything to stop the words that tumble from your lips next.

“I love you so much, Jungkook.”

His breathing stops for a second, his heart skipping a beat. He hasn’t heard those words since 1944. He didn’t even hear those words that morning you had sent him off, he hadn’t said those words when he promised to return. He should have. That way you’d never be in doubt of his love. He wonders if you’ve loved him since or if there has been anyone else in the meantime to love you the way he should’ve.

Silently, you watch him as his thoughts run one hundred miles per hour. Your palms are sliding from his chest to his shoulders and further up his neck to cup his face again. The love he feels is evident in his eyes as he focuses on you.

“I love you,” he whispers, carefully turning you over onto your back only for him to hover over you. You’re watching him, tingling in your stomach as you hear the words fall from his lips. He returns to kissing you, kissing the skin on your cheek, your neck and further down to the very top of your chest, right beneath the collarbones. He glances up at you as he kisses his way down the valley of your bra-covered chest. “I didn’t say it enough back then,” he mouths against your skin, another round of goosebumps rising beneath his lips, “I should have said it more. I’m sorry.”

You exhale deeply, arching your back into his touch as he reaches your navel and moves even further down to the waistband of your pants, your spandex pants that you so elegantly wear whenever you have a mission with the Avengers.

“Stop apologizing,” you breathe out, eyes closed as you succumb to his touch. The silver hand brushes over your stomach as it runs up to your chest, unclasping your bra on the front. It falls to the sides, revealing your perky nipples to the crisp air. You gasp softly as a silver hand brushes over both, the cold steel doing nothing but erecting them even more. “I've always hated it when you apologize.”

He smirks softly against your lower stomach, pressing one last kiss to the skin there before pulling the silver hand down to pull off your pants, and panties too. The pants are barely on the floor before he returns to your lower abdomen, kisses being spread across your hip bones and pubic bone. You reach down to tangle your fingers in his long hair as he runs his hands up the inside of your thighs. He spreads your legs, revealing your throbbing core to him.

“God, I missed this,” he breathed out, the air of his words hitting your wet folds. “Having you like this, all to myself.”

You whine from above him. “Jungkook,” you whimper, “please.”

It doesn’t take more for him to lean closer, tongue licking a stripe up between your folds and to your clit, his silver arm sliding across your abdomen to keep you down as he eats you out for the first time in decades. One would think he had lost his touch and knowledge of a woman’s body, but you can say that he certainly didn’t as he roots himself between your legs, tongue licking your wetness and prodding at the entrance.

“Oh god,” you moan, softly gasping for air as his human hand rests on top of your one thigh, fingers digging into the flesh there. You’re in heaven, on the ninth cloud as he slurps your arousal, licking your folds and clit as if his life depended on it. “Fuck, Jungkook!”

The sound of your name toppling from your lips as he hits a certain nerve makes his body flush with a warmth he almost forgot what feels like. You’re writhing in the tight hold of his silver arm, squirming as he licks you to your release. The orgasm is approaching fast and hard, Jungkook being the sole reason for it. No one could ever get you there as fast as him.

“I’m s-so close- oh!,” you pant, your walls clenching as Jungkook’s actual fingers slide into you. He pumps his hand in and out of you in a pace that is perfectly building up your orgasm. He takes nothing but a glance into his eyes as he leans down to softly kiss your clit that you’re toppling over, hitting the wall of your orgasm. “J-jungkook, my god!”

You jerk away as he leans forward, tongue licking up your release, tasting it on his taste buds. He hums with a small smile as he glances up at you, loving the way your eyes are almost bulging out of your head at the sight of him between your thighs. It takes nothing more than a few seconds before you shitting up, Jungkook meeting you halfway in a kiss. Tongues clash against each other, the taste of you on his tongue as he kisses you deeply, needingly.

“Please fuck me,” you mumble in between kisses, a desperate whining tone attached to your words. “Make love to me, Jungkook.”

He seals your words with a kiss, giving you a silent promise of doing just that. As if he’d lick you out and that would be it. No way.

You watch, teeth biting into your bottom lip, as he gets off the bed to remove the sweatpants you had dressed him in when you got back, getting him out of those military pants with belts and buckles all over them. His cock springs free, slaps against his abdomen as it stands proud into the air. A rush runs through your stomach at the sight, mouth slightly watering. Once the sweatpants and his boxers lie on the floor by his feet, he crawls back onto the bed. He moves closer, pushing you back onto your back as he hovers over you. You’re glancing at his silver arm for a mere split second, your hair reaching up to run along the hard edges of it. Jungkook can’t feel your touch but he’d like to imagine that he can as he watches your palm brushing over and further up to the nape of his neck. His eyes move back to lock with yours. You’re looking at him just like you did that last night of intimacy you had back in 1944, the night before he was sent off on a deathly mission. A huge wave of emotions hits him as he glances from your eyes to your lips and back again.

“I love you,” he softly says, eyebrows furrowed together as he looks at you, “so much, ____.”

You smile, pulling him down to meet you in a kiss. The kisses are soft, tender even as he reaches down to line himself up with your entrance. You gasp into his mouth as the tip of his cock prods at your folds. A hand of yours tangles back into his locks as he pushes inside, the tightness overwhelming for the both of you. He rests his forehead against yours, your breaths clashing together between you as he buries himself to the hilt.

“Shit,” he hisses, glancing down at your connecting hips. “Can i move?”

You nod your head, whispering, “yes.”

Jungkook watches the way your eyes roll to the back of your head as he pulls out and pushes back in, the sight causing him to do it again and again, wanting to see you lose yourself and succumb to the feeling of his cock brushing against your walls.

“Oh fuck!” You gasp as he gives you a particularly hard thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin as he hits that exact spot that makes you whimper out a soft, whiny moan. You’re clawing at his shoulders, his neck and chest as he sets a rhythm, keeping it steady as he grinds into you. He grabs your leg with his silver hand, helping you to wrap it around his waist. The other follows suit, locking with your other behind his back. He hits deep inside of you, his veiny cock sliding against your walls so deliciously.

It’s like that last night you had with him all over again just with more longing and more desperate kisses. Your stomach tingles with the overwhelming amount of emotions you’re feeling in this exact moment as you look up at him – his long hair slightly damp at the roots, his toned chest glistening in sweat as he works you both to a release, to a high you’re both so desperately in the need of.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans as you unawarely clench around his length, his head dropping to your shoulder. “Don’t do that or I’ll cum right now.”

“Sorry!” You squeak, chuckling as he eyes you with a small smirk. God, you wanna ride him so badly. “Oh, Jungkook,” you moan breathily as he hits your spot again. He’s watching you, eyes running over your face as it contorts in pure pleasure.

“Fuck, I’m close,” he grunts, leaning up on his hands to get a better angle. He rams his hips into you, his strength coming to show as he thrusts into you harder than ever before. The power of his thrusts have you seeing stars as your second orgasm nears you. Jungkook can feel it as you clinch repeatedly around him. He won’t last much longer if you continue to do that.

High pitched moans tumble from your parted lips as he speeds up his movements, desperately trying to get you over the edge before he topples over himself. Your nails are digging into his shoulders as you reach your high, the orgasm hitting you like a bullet.

“Oh my fucking god,” you moan, breathing ragged as he continues to fuck you to get himself to cum. His breathing is uneven, not matching his thrusts as all as he moves in and out a few more times before stilling inside of you, spilling his load and painting your walls inside.

“Fuck, I love you,” he breathes out as he drops his forehead to your collarbone. You’re smiling widely as you run your fingers from his shoulders and up into his hair. He lifts his head to look at you as you push his long, brown hair out of his face. You know him too well when he gives you a look, a small smirk on his lips. A joke is coming. You can just feel it. And you can’t help but grin at him as everything feels exactly like 1944 again. Also, you want to punch him for his next words:

“Not too bad for a 98-year-old, huh?”

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nev3rfound · 4 years ago

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someone i once knew : b.b - p.2

now that everyone has returned to the compound, bucky can confide in his oldest friend about you being here and what it could possibly mean. (2k)

(anything in bold/italics are flashbacks/memories!)

masterlist / permanent taglist

PART ONE . PART TWO . PART THREE . PART FOUR . PART FIVE . PART SIX

“Stevie? You down here?” You hesitantly walk down the dark alley, hearing squeaks from the rats in their homes. “It’s only me, I promise.” You add as you scan the area.

You pause at the sight of a bin lid rising, and Steve peers over the brim to see you smiling weakly at him. “Hey, Y/n.” Steve mutters, now standing upright, sporting a black eye for the third time this month.

“Hey,” You walk over, holding out a hand and help him out of the bin with some difficulty as the lid slams into the concrete, the rattling sound echoing upwards. “I won’t ask, don’t worry.”

Steve manages to smile at that, you never asked him about his ventures into alleyways or how he ends up with some injury each time until he was ready to talk about it. He knows that’s why you’re such a good friend, the opposite of Bucky whose route is more direct and to the point.

Walking out of the alleyway, you turn the corner only to see Bucky leaning against the wall, leg resting against it as his arms remain crossed. “And here I thought you would’ve come alone.” Steve comments to you, looking up to see your evident surprise.

“I did.” You remark, stepping forward and hit Bucky’s arm. “I told you, James, not to follow me!” You groan in frustration whilst Bucky simply smirks and winks to Steve who remains equally unimpressed.

“Well, I thought about it, and decided it’d be best just in case there was any trouble like last time.” Bucky states, pushing himself off the wall and walks after you. “You can’t be mad at me, seriously, doll?”

You quickly turn around, glaring at Bucky who steps back. “Do you remember what happened last time, huh?” You question, looking over to Steve who nods.

“You slammed a bin lid against that punks head.” Steve comments and the anger in your expression eases.

“Thank you, Steve.” You glance past Bucky to Steve. “I can fend for myself just fine, James.”

Bucky sighs and glances over to Steve with his shoulders slumped forward, but Steve simply shakes his head. “You’re on your own, pal.” Steve chuckles, watching as Bucky jogs to be by your side and wraps his arm around your waist and kisses your cheek.

Walking in behind Thor, Steve spots Bucky in the far corner of the conference room.

“So, how’d you manage then? See you didn’t burn the place down which I call a success.” Steve jokes as he pulls out the chair beside Bucky who barely reacts, his eyes focused on the files placed on the table with his name neatly written on the top. “Buck?” Steve speaks up, and Bucky slowly lifts his head up.

“It was fine.” Bucky remarks as he sits upright, his arms remaining crossed over his chest. “But it’s good to see you.” A half-smile forms on the soldier's lips and Steve curtly nods.

“Did Tony’s assistant show her face much?” Steve asks, his attention averting to the files in front of him, missing how Bucky tenses upon mentioning you.

“About that,” Bucky starts, but the door slams open and Tony walks in, making a grand entrance as always whilst you follow in quietly, closing the door softly whilst your back faces the Avengers.

“Damn,” Sam mutters, holding back a whistle as you turn to face the Avengers, trying your hardest to remain composed as all eyes are on you.

“Sam,” Tony calls him out whilst you busy yourself with some of the files and take a seat at the table beside Natasha who smiles at you. “anyway, this is my new assistant, Y/n.”

Steve suddenly snaps up to see you give everyone a small wave. “Hi, it’s lovely to finally meet you all.”

Yet, Steve’s eyes only widen as he turns to Bucky who buries his head into the files, ignoring you completely.

“So, Y/n’s new, she’s living here so please, don’t be weird.” Tony sighs before carrying on with his presentation and remains unaware of Steve looking at you closely in disbelief at how it can be.

"Like any of us would be weird, it's a pleasure, Lady Y/n." Thor comments and Steve listens as you chuckle at the God's remark.

“Seriously, James, just let him do it.” You huff as the three of you stand outside of the registering office once again.

Bucky tears his eyes from you as he removes his hat, holding it in his hands as fireworks sound behind you. It was his final night before he left, he wanted it to be perfect.

“Why’d you wanna do it so bad, huh?” Bucky asks, facing Steve who stands tall whilst Bucky looks down on him, you behind him with a supportive look in your eyes.

“I wanna serve my country, Buck, just like every other guy.” Steve states, repeating himself for the umpteenth time.

Stepping forward, you take a hold of Bucky’s hand, intertwining your fingers with his and squeeze lightly. Even without words, Bucky could understand you perfectly and sighs under his breath.

“Alright.” Bucky gives in with great difficulty and releases his hand from yours as he hugs Steve. “Just, don’t do anything stupid until I get back.”

Steve breathes out a laugh as he hugs his oldest friend, but can see tears forming in your eyes as you watch the pair.

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” Steve retorts as Bucky backs away. “Don’t win the war until I get there, okay?”

Nodding to Steve, Bucky salutes him before returning to your side, uttering promises of a final dance and a night together, knowing it could potentially be his last.

“Earth to Steve?” Sam waves his hand in front of Steve’s face, snapping him from the buried memory as you close your folders and follow behind Tony, everyone else now rising to their feet and departing. “You coming, Cap?” Sam asks, seeing everyone gone besides him and Bucky.

“I’ll follow you out in a minute.” Steve states and Sam exits without asking any questions, leaving the old friends alone with an impossible elephant in the room.

“Steve,” Bucky starts, but Steve clears his throat and rests his arm on the table.

“What is going on here, Buck?” Steve questions, still in disbelief as he witnessed you walk in with the same shy energy you once had as a child and sat quietly beside Natasha. “That, that can’t be Y/n.” Steve scoffs, but Bucky raises a brow.

“We’re here, Steve.” Bucky remarks. “Can’t say anything is impossible anymore.”

“But, but how? I, I’ve visited her grave. Bucky, Y/n died in 2005.” Steve sadly admits, having seen your name etched in stone as flowers lay beneath it.

Bucky shakes his head. “I don’t know Steve, I’ve been trying to figure it out but Y/n has had a life, a childhood that she remembers.”

After his initial interaction with you, Bucky scrolled through the internet with great difficulty (with FRIDAY’s assistance) and found records of your birth date, parents names and their death certificates. You exist in the now according to the government records, and so does a family that isn’t one Bucky knew.

“So she has no idea who we are? I, she wasn’t taken or,” Steve trails off, not wanting to think about you being another victim of HYDRA’s.

“She has these memories,” Bucky begins to explain, but he looks up to ensure no one is eavesdropping. “I, she remembers pieces of her life growing up with us, but she doesn’t know it’s us.”

“How is that even possible?” Steve leans back in his chair, struggling to comprehend it as Bucky simply shrugs his shoulders. “So what? All this is just happening by chance, huh? Tony just hired our oldest friend, your-”

“Don’t say it.” Bucky cuts Steve off, his blue eyes hardening and his jaw clenches shut.

“Look, all I’m saying is we should talk to Tony, see if we can make any sense of this.” Steve suggests and pushes his chair back. “I know this isn’t easy, Bucky.”

Bucky scoffs under his breath. “You have no idea, pal.” Bucky remarks as he follows Steve out from the conference room and toward the elevator.

“Can you hold it please!” You call out and rush down the corridor, seeing the pair waiting. As you slip inside, you smile up to Steve who nods back whilst Bucky keeps his eyes locked on his feet. “Thank you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/n.” Steve tries his hardest to remain composed as you fidget with the hem of your shirt, something you used to do with dresses instead.

As the doors open, you nod to Steve and exit, leaving the pair alone once more and Bucky exhales deeply.

“Real smooth, Buck.” Steve jokes and Bucky’s shoulders fall forward. “What happened between you two whilst we were gone, huh?”

“I, I don’t know.” Bucky mutters as the elevator rises further up the compound.

Walking through the corridor to your suite, tears form in your eyes once more. “Again?” You ask yourself as you dab your eyes, an overwhelming sense of sadness forming in your heart.

Standing proudly alongside many others, you wave as the soldiers board the trains. “Don’t cry, doll.” Bucky wipes your eyes, his hands resting on your cheeks as he takes you in, unsure if he’ll ever have the joy of seeing your bright smile ever again.

“I can’t help it, James.” You admit, sniffling as the whistle sounds. “I love you, and please, don’t do anything dumb, you idiot.” You chuckle as Bucky leans closer, capturing your lips with his, saying more than words could as tears fall from your eyes as he pulls away.

“This isn’t goodbye, Y/n.” Bucky assures you as he boards the train, blending in with the rest of the soldiers as you do with the worried lovers bidding farewell.

Forcing back the sob in your throat, you watch as he disappears out of sight, leaving you alone with the realisation; he might never come home.

“Hey, Y/n?” Natasha taps your shoulder, and you discreetly wipe your eyes before facing her.

“Hi, Natasha, can I help at all?” You ask, forcing a smile that Natasha can see right through.

She hums before motioning for you to follow her. “Listen, I know Barnes can be, well, Barnes,” You nod along, unsure where she’s going with it. “but he means well under all that. I, I just want to make sure you’re comfortable here, and if you ever need me, I’m just above.” Natasha motions to the floor above, and you nod along.

“Thanks, Natasha. Bucky’s fine, I promise. He just, he reminds me of someone I once knew.” You state, unsure of your own words as they leave your lips.

“Ah, we’ve all been there.” Natasha remarks, seeing an unease across your face. “You okay in there?” She asks, but you immediately perk up.

“Yeah, I should,” You point down to your phone. “I should go sort Tony’s meetings, I, I’ll see you later.”

Before Natasha can ask anything else, you rush off to your suite, locking the door behind you.

Leaning against your door, you can feel your heart drumming against your chest, threatening to burst through. “Hey, FRIDAY?” You ask as your eyes remain tightly closed, images of Bucky crossing your mind, but a version you’ve never met.

“Yes, Ms Y/l/n?” FRIDAY answers.

“Where is the nearest Doctor?” Your voice remains uneasy as silence follows.

“Is something wrong Ms Y/l/n? Would you like me to inform Tony?”

“Erm, no, I, I don’t want to worry him.” You state, but three knocks on your door interrupt you.

Stepping back, you unlock the door and pause as Tony stands before you with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You’ve got some explaining to do, don’t you think?” Tony asks as you breathe heavily and step aside, knowing this would be a long conversation ahead.

PART THREE

(thank you to the following for all the love in the first part! if you’d like to be tagged in this mini series do let me know) (or equally do not want to be tagged - i am just mentioning all those who left comments in part 1 :) )

@mggpleasedontlookhere @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @16boyfriends-and-me @sarge-barnes-sir @lilysgarden @sarcasticallywitty15 @buckyandsteveimagines @sassy-pelican @decaffeinated--fangirl @amywinehouseisgod @tearsinparadise @just-dreaming-marvel-2 @tcc-gizmachine @newyork47

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justmypartner · 3 years ago

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Still Breathing: Chapter 13

Summary: AU | When a case goes sideways, Hailey wakes up in the hospital with a revelation that leaves her evaluating her life. While she recovers at Med, she meets Jay, an aloof, yet intriguing patient that catches her by surprise. The two get to know one another as they take on the task of rediscovering what it’s like to truly live, and eventually learn their lives intersect in more ways than one.

Writer’s Note: Greetings! I just want to express a massive THANK YOU for the love and reactions to this story. My favorite thing about this story other than writing it is coming on here/ao3 after posting to read the comments. I love your love for this story. It truly inspires me to keep writing. I have gone back and forth about this, but I think I've finally settled on 20 chapters + an epilogue. A lot is about to happen, so plan accordingly. Anywayyyy, I’ll let you get to reading. Hugs, kisses, and I hope you enjoy!!

Read on AO3 or below

The air had a cold bite to it. The kind that stings against your skin, makes your eyes water, and leaves you longing for the summer heat. Something about the clouds allowed Hailey to predict the first snow of the season would come sometime that day. Though as a Chicago native, it wasn’t a prediction she felt particularly excited about. She looked up into the dreary gray sky with dread, knowing months of sub-zero temperatures and ice-lined streets were to come.

Standing outside the 21st and feeling the arctic-like wind against her face only made her crave to be home. To be in bed, tucked under a duvet and blankets, warm arms wrapped around her body, and mindless touches sparking a fire under her skin. The thought stirred up memories from the weekend, leading her to swallow down a grin and shake vivid images from her mind.

Jay’s truck pulling down the street was enough to yank her back down to earth, and she pushed herself from her car as he pulled in beside her. She caught his smile through the window as he looked over and killed the engine.

“Good morning,” he told her as he hopped out of the cab.

“You’re going to say that so casually as if you didn’t already tell me that today?” she teased.

“You’re right. I know for a fact that you had a good morning,” he said arrogantly, a knowing grin sending heat to her face.

His lips against her neck woke her before the sun rose earlier that day, sparking yet another slow morning.

Afterward, realizing he had been loitering around her place in two-day-old boxers, he decided it was time he went back to his apartment for a change of clothes.

“I’ll meet you at the district,” he offered with a departing peck on her lips.

“Wait, you’re telling them today?” she asked him with surprise, grasping at his wrist to halt his movement away from her.

He nodded, leaning down for one more kiss before peeling away.

Her eyes widened with his statement, and she shook off a smile as she flicked the brim of his ball cap down in feigned annoyance. He laughed lightly as he readjusted it on his head, peering down at her before shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

“You ready for this?” she questioned when the laughter died down. An earnest expression overcame each of them as they shivered against the cold wind.

She watched as he shrugged, dragging his attention over to the building behind them. She saw a familiar look in his eyes. It’s the same one she saw in St. Joseph. One she realized summed up what it was like to deal with the weight of good memories glossed over with a sad reality.

She knew the fearful thoughts that must have been racing through his mind. She knew because she had the same ones only months prior, right after the shooting. She remembered standing exactly where they were, looking up at the building, troubled by uncertainty and a bruised confidence.

She reached over with an assurance she wished she would have had upon her return, holding onto his forearm as his eyes stared down into hers.

“By your side,” she reminded.

He nodded, forcing a smile as he pulled his hand from his pocket to grasp hold of hers.

Joined hands, they made their way to the front of the building. They released the contact inside, sharing a comforting glance before climbing to the top of the stairs. Entering the lobby, Trudy walked by them, her back to them making her oblivious to their presence.

“Morning, Sarge,” Jay greeted sheepishly.

“Morning,” she replied without thought, hardly looking up from the stack of papers in her arms.

Registering his voice, she stopped abruptly, looking up and slowly turning to face the pair. Realization evident in wide eyes and parted lips, she stared at Jay as if he weren’t real. The expression of confusion and shock faded as a relieved smile took its place. She shoved the papers she carried into Hailey’s chest. Hailey grappled them with an oomph as the sergeant slowly pulled Jay into an embrace.

“Where the hell have you been? I was beginning to get worried you were tossing in dirt somewhere,” she told him, a mix of concern and relief in her voice. It was rare to see Trudy Platt so emotional and so affectionate, but Hailey knew underneath her hard exterior was a sergeant who cared deeply about her people. This was something that was made abundantly clear in that moment.

Jay forced a smile at her, his eyes looking over to Hailey before meeting Trudy’s again.

“Yeah, about that… you mind coming upstairs for a minute? I’ve got something to tell the team. I want you to be there too.”

She nodded hesitantly, dipping a brow as she silently questioned his obscurity.

“About time, Upton,” Adam called out as their footsteps filled the small stairwell. “I even beat you here, which is saying a lot because-“

His words dropped off when his eyes met the three figures at the top of the stairs, one in particular leaving him speechless. Kim and Kevin had turned their attention away from their desks at this point, watching with shock as they too found themselves without words. Hailey’s eyes darted over to Voight’s office, watching as the sergeant rose from his chair and slowly came to the doorway. Arms crossed over his chest, he watched with a stolid demeanor.

Trudy moved to join the rest of the team in the bullpen, though Hailey remained motionless beside Jay at the top of the stairs.

“Jay, where the hell have you been, brother?” Adam finally asked, not a soul in the room moving as they all seemed to piece together the puzzle before them.

Adam’s question sent Jay’s hand reaching over for Hailey’s, squeezing tight as she looked up to watch the ball of his throat bop up and down with a gulp. She squeezed his hand back in support, nodding when he looked to her for encouragement.

“I’ve got something I need to tell you guys.”

— — — —

What happened after the awkward reunion in the bullpen was one big blur every time Hailey tried to think about it. Somehow, someone had the right mind to move the party into the conference room. To sit them down for the news none of them were prepared for. If Hailey had to guess, she’d say it was Kim, though it could have easily been Trudy. She was so concerned about making sure Jay was okay, almost telepathically feeling his every emotion, reading his every thought as he broke the discomforting news to the team, that she didn’t have the capacity to process exact details.

All she knew was that everyone’s expressions read the same. Shock, confusion, sadness, tears filled everyone’s eyes as they realized the gravity behind the reason for Jay’s absence.

Hailey’s grip on his hand never faltered. Part of it was in support, part of it was because she needed to be reminded that no matter how scary his condition was, he was still there with her. Breathing.

She was glad for his sake that the reactions were neutral. There were questions about the severity of his condition, about what his treatment was, and about how long he’d be gone, but there was no pity, no if this is the last time I see you type reactions. Just unwavering love and support. Exactly what she knew he needed.

The meeting was cut short when Voight got a call about a case.

“Come see me later. We’ll go through your options to take leave. We’ll figure it out, Jay,” he insisted before stepping out of the room and answering the call.

Trudy hugged Jay’s neck, giving him an encouraging nod before marching off back to her post.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys,” Jay told their friends. They all frowned at the apology.

“Shut up, man. You did what you felt you needed to do. Don’t ever be sorry for that,” Kevin assured, everyone else nodding in agreement.

“Okay, no arguments, we’re going to Molly’s tonight. I need to catch you up on what you’ve missed, and we also need to discuss that,” Adam announced, his eyes nodding to Hailey and Jay’s joined hands resting on the table. Kim and Kevin hummed in agreement as Hailey’s eyes met Jay’s briefly, the two giving the team sheepish grins.

“You both sure do know how to keep a secret,” Kim tsked, shaking her head as she stepped out of the room. The other two officers followed suit, leaving the couple alone in the suddenly quiet space.

She heard Jay let out a long sigh like he’d been holding his breath that entire time and that was his first chance to really breathe.

“I’m proud of you,” she said, reaching her free hand over to rest over his chest.

“Thank you for-“ the movement of his hand raising their joined hands in the air finished the sentence for him. She gave him a warm smile, leaning over to press her lips against his cheek.

“Of course,” she hummed.

“I love you,” she told him hesitantly, forgetting almost for a moment that saying those words so freely had become reality for them.

“I love you too,” he replied, his eyes blinking closed slowly. She pressed her lips to his cheek once more before pulling away from him.

“I’ll see you later then?” she asked when she reached the doorway of the room.

“Yeah,” he smiled at her. This time it wasn’t forced or fake, it was authentic, and such a simple expression filled her with a raw sense of joy. She knew he was relieved. She could see it in his eyes. She could feel it deep in the depths of her heart. He was okay, and that made her okay, and that alone was enough to get her through the rest of the day.

— — — —

A light flurry fell from the sky as Hailey left the district that evening, proving her instincts to be unerring. By the time she had pulled up outside of Molly’s, everything in sight was covered in a thin layer of white fluff. There was something so dreamy about the first snow of the season. It felt like a clean slate, an endearing beginning before everything turned to frozen gray slush.

She smiled as she hopped out of her car, recognizing the eerily uncanny timing of the universe. Somehow, the changes of the seasons had aligned with the changes in her life. Though winter in Chicago was certainly not her favorite season, she embraced the change with expectation. Her life felt whole for the first time she could remember, and she was more than eager for whatever came next.

She stared down the empty street for a moment, allowing herself to get caught up in the picturesque sight. She heard footsteps crunching through the light dusting on the ground, and she suddenly felt eyes on her. It was a feeling she’d come to know too well, and she found it strange how adept she had become at sensing his stare — no, his presence. It was as if she’d learned to know when he was around without having to know at all.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she offered, mesmerized by the steady snowfall dropping from the dark sky. His silence drew her attention over to him, who just gazed upon her with a starry eyed grin.

“Yeah,” he muttered. Though he agreed, she noticed that his eyes never left her, making her question the subject of his concord. Realization that he wasn’t referring to the snow sent a visual flush of diffidence to her cheeks.

— — — —

“I can’t believe Jay was the guy you’ve been seeing this whole time, and we had no idea,” Kim said, shaking her head as she took a swig from her beer. Crowded around a small table in the back of the congested bar, Hailey and Jay dished out the details of their story to the team.

“I don’t know I feel like I had an idea,” Adam said, scrunching his face with a look of confidence.

“Do not believe him. He’s spent the past few weeks convinced that every Ryan we encountered had to be the guy,” Kim challenged.

“This is true. I was with him just last week when he harassed a lab tech after finding out his name was Ryan,” Kevin added.

Hailey and Jay stifled laughter, watching Adam’s face contort with scorn as if he’d just been accused of a heinous crime. Kim shot him a disapproving look, and it was enough to make him cave.

“Okay, fine. I didn’t know, but I did think it was strange that you were being so secretive about him.”

“I am sorry for not telling you guys,” Hailey admitted. She looked over to Jay, grabbing his hand as he met her eyes. “But I made a promise.”

He gave her an affirming smile, raising their hands to place a kiss against her skin.

“Wow, you guys are… disgusting,” Adam joked, laughing into his bottle before taking a drink.

“Shut up,” Kim told him with a playful swat. “Don’t listen to him, you guys are great together. I’m really glad you’re both happy.”

They both spoke their gratitude, a mutual sense of relief escaping each of them with the blessing of their friends.

“Why the name Ryan by the way?” Kevin inquired.

“Well, she needed to give you a name. I told her to use my uc name, treat it as an undercover op. Get a story, know the name, treat it like it’s real,” Jay replied.

“Aw, Kelly and Ryan. It has a real nice ring to it,” Kim joked.

Kelly. It echoed in Hailey’s mind. Her smile faded instantly as such a simple name dragged her right back to that day. Right back to that dark place she thought she’d broken free from.

Of all of the triggers she had faced and dealt with, she never imagined it would be that name that sent months of progress right out the window. Maybe it was the fact that hearing it sparked memories of the man’s voice in her head. Maybe it was the fact that she could so vividly remember the way it desperately left the girl’s mouth before…

The sound of Jay’s voice pulled her back, and her eyes blinked into focus as she crawled out of the dire depths of her mind.

“Hm?” she questioned. She forced a smile in an attempt to conceal what just transpired, though she could tell it was unconvincing for Jay. He reached over and stroked the back of her head, a concerned look filling his eyes.

“I just asked, who’s Kelly?” though it wasn’t curiosity in his eyes as he looked over at her, it was fright.

She swallowed hard, meeting his eyes as she sucked in a sharp breath.

“Kelly was my undercover name… the one I used for the case that got me shot.”

#upstead #jay x hailey #hailey x jay #jay halstead #hailey upton #upstead fic #chicago pd #justmypartner fics #collection of Em’s fics

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andilovetowrite · 3 years ago

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Tough Love (Part 2)

Peter Parker x Enemy!Reader

Summary: Peter Parker and I have always had a tense relationship, but there was always a line that you wouldn’t pass. What happens when one day you do, and there are horrible repercussions? Will you and Peter make up, or will it be an endgame for you?

Warnings: A bit of angst, and fighting, but a lot of fluff in the end.

Here is the request it is based on!

Here is my Masterlist as well, in case you wanna check out my fanfics :)

Word Count: 1.7k

“Are you really going to ignore me forever?”, you asked Peter, buckling up your seatbelt. It had been a week after your flight, and you two hadn’t said a word to each other. You had tried to apologize several times, but it was hard when Peter skipped school just to avoid you, and while training, he made sure to stay out of your radius.

So you didn’t really have a wide variety of ways to say sorry to him. There were no insults thrown at each other, no teasing and definitely no normal conversations. Even now, Peter just looked away, his jaw clenched shut at the question you asked. Sighing, you turned away, focusing on the floor rather than Nat’s questioning eyes. Everyone in the compound could see something had happened. Usually, your dad had to separate you two from biting each other’s heads off, with the rest of the team cheering either one on. But this week? It had been pitch silence at the compound.

You could pretend you didn’t care, but you did. A lot. When MJ had called you up after the fight, you had been a mess. And maybe, just maybe, it was because you wanted the conversation in the closet to go well. “Well” in a way that you finally told Peter you liked him, and hopefully, he reciprocated it. But the cards were definitely not in your favour, because the day ended with him storming out, and leaving a red-faced, teary-eyed mess behind.

“Okay team, here is how it’s going to go”, Tony said from the front of the jet, looking back at the 4 of us. “Nat and Steve, you two work on getting rid of all the guards inside the place, and I will patrol the outside. Once all the threats are taken out, Y/N and Peter can get in easily and retrieve the Hydra files. It should be easy enough-”

“No”, Peter muttered, looking up, his eyes dark. “I’ll stay with Steve. Nat can go with her”, he said, jerking his head towards you. You could feel your throat close up, as you took a deep breath, opting not to say anything. The entire jet went quiet, all the eyes on you. Not knowing what to say, you just nodded, not taking your eyes off the floor.

Instantly, Peter felt bad. He knew you were trying to make amends, but to what? Just so you could go back to fighting 24/7 every day? He didn’t want that, not in a billion years. So he just shut you down or ignored you anytime you spoke to him. It was better than getting his heart broken again anyway. But now looking at you, head down, biting your lip, he almost felt like reaching out to you, but the plane lurched forward, indicating you guys had landed.

“Alright team, let’s do this”, Tony said, looking hard at you. “And remember safety first. This isn’t a hard mission, so we can be in and out in 15 minutes”

At least that’s what he thought. When Steve and Peter went out to get rid of the soldiers, they were immediately outnumbered, by a lot. Calling in Nat, the four of them kept fighting, giving you a straight passageway to the secret room.

“Y/N, you alright sweetie?”, Tony asked, grunting as he got hit again. You said yes, ducking away from a guy’s view, pushing him out of a window with your powers.

“Yeah, no one is here”, you said, pushing your way into the room, the files just lying there on the table. “But it seems too easy-”, you began, but the minute you touched the paper, the room exploded.

Bright, hot heat clouded your vision as you were thrown back, your suit feeling like it was on fire. Trying to move away, the last thing you could remember was Peter’s voice in your ear, crying out as your eyes closed, giving in to the sticky darkness that swallowed you.

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“Y/Nnnnn”, you heard Tony’s voice call out to you, “c’mon, get up”. You could feel your eyes start to flicker open as a sharp pressure was applied to your head.

“Ugh”, you groaned, trying to dull the pounding ache in your head. Pushing your hands up, you couldn’t help but wince, a burning pinch travelling up your arm.

“Woah woah woah, relax little Stark”, Steve said, pushing you softly back down, “you have heavily burnt your hands. I would refrain from even lifting them up”

“Wha-”, you asked, looking at your dad. Tony sighed, telling Steve to go outside the room, as he came to stand next to you. You looked at him, still confused about what happened.

“Yo-you went to the main circuit and apparently, they anticipated it. Well...they anticipated Peter to be there instead of you. Some type of fiery air was released around you, which, based on Bruce’s experiment, showed that it would literally burn Peter from inside his suit.”, Tony stopped for a second, looking outside the door, “Um, since you weren’t wearing a suit, it didn’t have too much of a boiling effect, but it did cause some burns and severe blackouts-”

“How long was I out?”, you asked quietly, looking down at your arms, seeing the layers and layers of bandaging on them.

“About 2 days”, he said, looking at you closer. “Peter’s been out there the entire time, waiting for you to wake up” Tony chuckled, resting his hand on your shoulder. “I don’t know how many times I’ve told him to go home, but he just wouldn’t listen to me-”

“Where is he now?”, you asked, surprised he had stayed behind to see you. After your fight, you were so sure that the chances of making up(making out) with Peter were close to zero.

“He’s outsid-”

“Mr Stark, is she awake?”, a drowsy voice called out, as a disheveled Peter came inside the room, his eyes catching onto yours. “H-hey Y/N”, he mumbled, eyes wide as they scanned your body.

“So I’ll leave it to you then”, Tony said, backing away, but not before whispering something in Peter’s ear that made his entire face go pink. “I’ll be back in an hour, alright? Gotta go pick up Morgan from school” He waved you off, but you were too busy staring at Peter. Who, by the way, looked like a mess. His hair was sticking out in all places, his eyes were bloodshot, and clothes rumpled.

Yet, he still looked like your Peter. Hesitantly, he walked over, almost as if he was too scared to even come near you, but the moment he was close enough to hear you, you blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“I’m so sorry”, you whispered. Peter’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Why are you sorry? I’m the one who acted like a total dick!”, Peter exclaimed, and it was like a dam broke inside him, “y-you could’ve died Y/N! Why did I-”

“Peter, I’m fine, okay?”, you said, wanting badly to put your hand on his shoulder, but you couldn’t even do that. “And I’m sorry for what I said to you last week- i-it wasn’t right, and I didn’t even mean it-”

Suddenly, you were cut off, because Peter’s lips were on yours, kissing you as if his life depended on it. You froze for a second, but as he began to pull away, you surged forward, kissing him back.

You could’ve stayed that way forever, in the dim light of the hospital room, kissing your enemy(crush), but you both needed oxygen to live. Pulling back slightly, you kept your forehead on Peter’s, looking into his brown eyes, as his looked into yours.

“I-I needed to do that”, Peter whispered, and you understood. “With you almost dying, I couldn’t just-”

“I know”, you said back, smiling at him slightly.

“I’m in love with you Y/N”, Peter confessed, glancing briefly at you, but blushing down in embarrassment. Not responding for a couple seconds, he took it the wrong way, as he backed up, eyes starting to brim up with tears.

You were so shocked, you didn’t even realize that he was almost out of the room. Tyring to speak as loud as possible, you piped up, “If you leave now, you aren’t gonna be here to hear my declaration of love Pete”

Peter stopped, his hand on the doornob. “What?”

You smiled, staring at the familiar mop of curls. “Yeah, and if I start speaking as you go out, then Cap might think it’s for him, and that’s an awkward conversation waiting to happen”

“Wha- declaration of what?”, Peter asked, baffled.

Grinning at the dopey smile of his, you chuckled. “I like you too Peter. Hell, I love you”

Peter walked closer, “Wait, you aren’t just saying that out of pity right?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to sit up, “When have I ever done something out of pity Parker?”

“Never”, Peter replied, a smile taking over his features. He came and sat next to you, and as suddenly as he kissed you earlier, he did so again, this time whispering so close to your mouth, and so quietly, you weren’t sure if you even heard him. “We were literally at each other’s throats a week ago, and now-”

“We’re making out”, you said, smirking, “but do you want to change that? I’m sure I can find someone as equally crazy as you to make out with”

Peter shook his head, laughing. “Not at all...plus, as tough as it is loving you”, he said, giving you a chaste peck, “it’s well worth it”

“Mhm, tough love”, you agreed, smiling at your brown haired boy.

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Wow! Loved writing this, and even though it took a long time to update, I hope you enjoyed this, and I can't wait to write my next one :)

Ps. If you have the time, check out Season 2 of Never Have I Ever, on Netflix. It's awsome!

Taglist: @idkatee @eternalscribblesforthesoul @loudbluepancake @poisondevotion @scram1326 @t-hollanderr @305weasley @starknik22 @marvelfansworld @lou-la-lou @lomlparker @marvelfansworld @wowitsel @vanteguccir @fullcheesecakeengineer @ladykxxx08 @allegras-sunflower @ifyouknewhowmiserylovedme @a–1–1–3 @hayhays

#peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker angst #peter parker headcanon #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader imagine #avengers #avenger reader #stark!reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland blurb #tom holland #peter parker x bestfriend reader #spiderman #peter parker series #peter parker drabble #peter parker blurb

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just-dreaming-marvel · 4 years ago

Text

Out Of Time ~ 112

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,900ish

Summary: Captain America: Civil War --- tread carefully.

Steve landed the quinjet as Bucky and Y/N grabbed weapons.

“You shouldn’t come in with us,” Bucky muttered, shaking his head. “It’s too dangerous.”

“Too bad,” Y/N responded, slipping guns into the holster of her suit, that was thankfully in the quinjet. “I’m coming.”

Bucky sighed before looking up at Y/N. “I’m not the same man you knew.”

“I’m not the same woman. But…” Y/N stepped forward, took Bucky’s metal hand, and held it to her chest. “You’re still my Bucky.”

Bucky studied her eyes for a second before swiftly putting his free hand on the back of her head and pulling her in to meet his lips. She was shocked, not kissing back for a few, before remembering how much she loved the feeling of his lips on hers. He was the one to end the kiss, stepping away and breaking all physical contact with her.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” Bucky apologized. “I’m not in the correct mindset.”

He quickly made his way over to the back of the quinjet, waiting for the ramp to lower. Y/N joined him before Steve left the pilot’s chair and stood in the middle of them as the ramp lowered.

“You remember that time we had to ride back from Rockaway Beach in the back of that freezer truck?” Steve asked.

“Was that the time we used our train money to buy hot dogs?” Bucky questioned.

“Yes,” Y/N answered, with a reminiscent smile.

“You blew three bucks trying to win that stuffed bear for a redhead,” Steve continued.

“What was her name again?” Bucky asked.

“Dolores,” Y/N responded. “You called her Dot.”

“She’s gotta be a hundred years old right now.”

“So are we, pal,” Steve said, clamping his hand on Bucky’s shoulders.

The three of them looked at each other before Steve slipped his helmet on and they exited the quinjet. It was cold, the wind blowing harshly as snow covered the ground. Bucky led them to the entrance, set in rock. The door was open.

“He can’t have been here more than a few hours,” Steve said as they stared at the door.

“Long enough to wake them up,” Bucky said. Both men looked over to Y/N.

“Last chance. I really wish—“

“Save it Steve. You know I’m not leaving,” Y/N retorted.

Both men sighed. “Then no powers unless it’s absolutely necessary. I don’t need you throwing up in the middle of a fight.”

Y/N gave a small nod before Steve led them in, her in the middle and Bucky tailing. They entered a small elevator. She watched as the men nodded at each other while the elevator went down. Once it rattled to a stop, the men heaved up the doors. Steve held up his shield as the other two held up their guns, walking along a corridor, keeping close to a wall.

The trio headed up a flight of stairs, Bucky leading, Y/N in the middle, and Steve at the end, when they heard a noise from behind them. They swiftly spun around, aiming down the corridor. Still keeping his gun up, Bucky gently pushed Y/N down so that she was more hidden.

“You ready?” Steve asked.

“Yeah,” Bucky responded.

The three held their positions as the creaking of the doors at the end of the corridor continued. The double doors part, forced open by Iron Man. Both Steve and Y/N stared in surprise. Tony walked towards them, retracting the suits helmet.

“You seem a little defensive,” Tony commented.

Steve got up and walked towards Tony, keeping his shield up. Tony eyed Y/N who was slowly following.

“It’s been a long day,” Steve replied.

“At ease, Soldier,” Tony said. “I’m not currently after you.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Could be your story’s not so crazy. Maybe. My girl friend also wasn’t at the place that I left her. Figured she was with you.”

“Tony—“

“Ross has no idea I’m here,” Tony cut Y/N off to continue. He lended his shoulder against a large cement post. “I’d like to keep it that way. Otherwise, I gotta arrest myself.”

“Well, that sounds like a lot of paperwork,” Steve said, lowing his shield. It’s good to see you, Tony.”

“You too, Cap. Hey, Manchurian Candidate, you're killing me. There's a truce here. You can drop.”

Steve signals Bucky to lower his weapon, in which he does. Y/N walked up to Tony, hesitantly.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Nat called and warned me. I had to come help.”

Tony stared at her, studying her carefully for a moment. He had a feeling for a few days now that something was up, something besides the Accords. He just couldn’t figure out what.

“I’m sorry too,” he said quietly, pulling her into his arms. He held a kiss to her head. Bucky tensed at the gesture, which Tony noticed. “Alright, let’s go.”

Tony put his helmet back over his face and the four of them cautiously walked further into the bunker. The three men were positioned so that Y/N was in the middle of them. Iron Man was leading the way towards an enormous chamber with capsules standing in it.

“I got heat signatures,” Tony stated.

“How many?” Steve asked.

Tony paused before answering, “Uh, one.”

As the entered the chamber, the lights turned on. A hazy, yellow mist descended within the capsules around the room. Each capsule contained a soldier. They all looked around, bewildered.

“If it’s any comfort,” Helmut Zemo’s voice came over a speaker, “they died in their sleep.”

They all walked around, staring at the soldiers that had each been shot in the head.

“Do you really think I wanted more of you?” Zemo continued.

“What the hell?” Bucky muttered.

“I'm grateful to them, though. They brought you here.”

Zemo appeared in the control room, through a small window. Tony lifted up his hand as Steve threw his shield, but it bounced back.

“Please, Captain,” Zemo taunted. “The The Soviets built this chamber to withstand the launch blast of UR-100 rockets.”

“I’m betting I could beat that,” Tony retorted. The four of them rounded the center consul so that they could be closer to Zemo.

“Oh, I'm sure you could, Mr. Stark. Given time. But then you'd never know why you came.”

“You killed innocent people in Vienna just to bring us here?” Steve questioned. Staring Zemo straight on.

“I thought about nothing else for over a year. I studied you. I followed you. But now that you're standing here, I just realized . . . there's a bit of green in the blue of your eyes. How nice to find a flaw.”

“You're Sokovian,” Y/N stated, coming closer. “Is that what this is about?”

“Sokovia was a failed state long before you blew it to hell. No. I'm here because I made a promise.”

“You lost someone?” Steve wondered.

Zemo, looking grave, clicked his tongue. "I lost everyone. And so will you.” A screen suddenly turned on, bringing everyone’s attentions to it. “An empire toppled by its enemies can rise again. But one which crumples from within? That's dead . . . forever.”

They all moved over and looked at the screen. The frozen frame of a secluded road and the date, December 16, 1991. Tony’s face helmet disappeared, his eyes briefly met Y/n’s before flickering back to the screen that began to play.

“I know that road,” Tony stated, anxiously. “What is this?”

All eyes were now on the screen. A car came into the frame, crashing into a tree. Y/N watched as someone road up on a motor cycle and got off. The Winter Soldier. Steve watched Tony’s increasing unease. The driver got out of the car, crawling on the ground.

“Howard,” Y/N gasped quietly, eyes brimming with tears.

“Help me wife,” Howard begged on the video. “Please. Help.” The Winter Soldier walked over and hoisted him up by his hair. “Sergeant Barnes?”

“Howard!” Maria called.

Tony looked up and glared at Bucky, before his eyes found their way back to the screen. Y/N was unable to take her eyes off the screen, her heart began racing. On the screen, the Winter Soldier lifted his metal fist.

“Wait!” Howard begged, hand digging into his suit coat. “You don’t want to do this, Barnes. Look.” Howard pulled out the photo of him and Y/N dancing. “We knew each other… You know her… Remember.”

Y/N heart clenched as a sob torn through her. Her hand came up to her mouth, trying to keep it quiet.

“Please don’t,” Howard continued. “Remember Y/N at least.”

After a brief glance at the photo, the Winter Soldier punched Howard over and over.

“Howard!” Maria called again.

Howard slumped over, dead. The Winter Soldier put him in the driver’s seat, face against the steering wheel. He walked around the the passenger side, where Maria was located. The Soldier reached in and gripped her throat, expressionless as he strangled Maria. The Winter Soldier then walked up and aimed a gun at the surveillance camera, ending the feed.

Y/N’s heart was beating rapidly. It was the only thing she could hear. Her breathing was becoming increasingly unsteady. Losing her balance, she backed up into the wall and slid down it. Steve kept his eyes on Tony, who lunged towards Bucky.

“Tony, Tony,” Steve said, stopping him.

Tony looked at Steve, clearly consumed with grief and tears glistening in his eyes. “Did you know?” Tony asked, trying to control his emotions.

“I didn’t know it was him.”

“Don't bullshit me, Rogers! Did you know?”

“Yes.”

Tony stepped back, chin jutting up in a twitch. Looking over at Y/N, he sees her struggling with this as well, making him realize that she didn’t know either. Tony reengaged his helmet. He punched Steve to the floor and deflected gunfire from Bucky, disarming him. Grabbing Bucky, he flew across the chamber, slamming Bucky onto the floor. Tony pinned Bucky’s arms down but was unable to fire because Steve threw his shield at him.

Steve barged Tony backwards. Tony then shouldered Steve to the floor, shackling his ankles. Bucky came back up and punched Tony, who just listed him and slammed him against a machine. Tony raised a fist, but Bucky twisted it. A rocket shot out from the Iron Man suit, a fireball exploding. Steve sliced his shackles as a towering structure of pipework collapsed.

Barely registering what was happening around her, Y/N was quickly thrown back into her senses, as pieces of metal began to fall around her, boxing her into the corner.

“Ah!” She screamed.

Bucky and Tony were thrown to the ground by the metal, not hearing her screams. Steve though, did.

“No,” he whispered. Steve and Bucky stood up, making eye contact. “Find Y/N and get out of here!”

Bucky nodded. He quickly found her, throwing the metal to the side.

“I’ve got you, Y/N/N,” Bucky said quietly. “I’m so sorry.”

Y/N shaking in his hold as Bucky rushed towards the wall with the lowest platform. He hit a control panel, opening the over head roof. Tony shot at them, thankfully missing, before Steve landed in front of him.

“It wasn’t him, Tony,” Steve stated. “HYDRA had control of his mind!”

“Move!” Tony ordered, hovering. He began to fly over Steve.

“It wasn’t him!”

Steve grabbed onto Tony’s ankle in mid air, smashing the bottom of the boot. They fought while Bucky was trying his best to make his way up the platforms with an almost unresponsive Y/N in his arms. He began to notice that the trembling was increasing and that she was sweating everywhere.

Tony unsteadily soared upwards as Bucky jumped across to another platform, Y/n still in his arms. Tony kicked Bucky down, causing him to let go of Y/n, who rolled away. Tony then took aim but Steve quickly jumped in front of Bucky, using his shield to rebound the energy back to Tony. He dropped, landing on a lowering platform.

“He’s not going to stop,” Steve stated, helping Bucky up. “Go.”

“Steve, it’s too dangerous for me to take Y/N,” Bucky worried. “Look.”

Steve looked over to see Y/N shaking, with sweat dripping down her forehead.

“I’ve got her,” Steve stated. “Go.”

Bucky ran and Steve leaped over and shot a wire around Tony’s neck, dragging him down. Tony deflected Steve’s shield, before trying to target Bucky.

“Come on, come on,” Tony muttered.

“Targeting system’s knackered, boss,” FRIDAY warned.

“I’m eyeballing it.”

Tony’s helmet retracted and he shut one eye, taking aim at the opening hatch. He fired, hitting the giant hinge and cutting off Bucky’s escape route. Tony then flew up, blocking two swings from an iron pipe Bucky was trying to use. Tony grabbed Bucky around the neck from behind.

“Do you even remember them?” Tony asked.

“I remember all of them,” Bucky replied.

Bucky pushed them both of the walkway. Steve jumped into them to deflect their fall. Bucky landed on a platform while Tony and Steve landed on the concrete floor besides an opening in the wall where snow drifts in. Finally hearing more of the commotion, Y/N pushed herself up, looking over the side.

“No,” she panted.

The three men she loved most in the world where fighting each other and she had no strength to stop them. She winced as she felt a cramp in her lower abdomen.

“No, no, no,” she whispered frantically.

Pushing herself up, she shakily jumped down from platform to platform as the men still fought.

“This isn’t gonna change what happened,” Steve said to Tony.

“I don’t care,” Tony replied. “He killed my mom.”

The two began going at each other, with Bucky shown joining in. Y/N got down to their level as Bucky was blasted away from Tony, his metal arm blowing off. Tony zapped him again, throwing him to the side. Y/N rushed as quick as she could over to him.

“B-bucky,” she called, collapsing beside him. “Bucky, please…”

Bucky coughed up some blood. “Go,” he groaned. “You have to get out of here.”

“But you’re all killing each other.”

“And you shouldn’t have to see that… go… please…. I love you.”

“Bucky, I—“

“Go.”

With an unsteady inhale and a nod, Y/N opened a portal to the quinjet. She knew she couldn’t get much further than that. Closing it, she fell onto the ground. She had no more energy to move but her body still forced her to vomit. Y/N couldn’t focus on anything around her, black spots filling her vision. With one more heave, she blacked out.

~~~

Tony and Steve were both panting as Steve ripped the shield out of Tony’s suit and helped Bucky up. They began to walk away, leaving Tony on the ground.

“That shield doesn’t belong to you,” Tony said. “My father made that shield!”

Pausing, Steve raised his chin before dropping the shield. He walked around, with Bucky’s arm around his shoulder, leaving Tony to stare at the shield. Panting, he watched it until something suddenly hit him.

“Y/N,” he gasped. “No.” He pushed himself up. “Y/N!”

He called her name as she walked around, searching for her. Tony feared ash something terrible had happened to her or that she had gone with Steve and Bucky. He eventually, after almost an hour, gave up the search and headed out of the bunker. Tony was thankful to still see a quinjet here. As he entered the jet, he saw a body laying in the middle of it.

“Y/N… Baby?”

Tony slowly limped over to her. As he drew closer, he noticed the blood seeping from somewhere in between her legs. He rushed to kneel next to her.

“Honey,” he tried to be gentle but firm as he turned her over from the vomit she was in and patted her cheek. “Y/N, please.”

But nothing. He quickly moved to find where the blood was coming from. There was no gash, no wound. As he ran through all the possible things, Tony’s mind came to one solution.

“No,” he whispered. “No, no, no.”

He hurried and got the quinjet into the air and set for the compound before getting out of his battle torn suit. Tony then took Y/N into his arms, rocking her as he begged for her to wake.

“I can’t lose more than I already have… I’m so sorry…”

Dr. Cho was already there waiting for the quinjet when they landed back at the compound. Her and her people rushed Y/N away from Tony. He watched helplessly, falling onto his knees as tears trailed down his cheeks. And he did the one thing he’d never done before in his life. Tony Stark prayed.

“Please God… don’t take them from me… I’ll be better, work harder… I’ll do anything. I’ll give anything. Including my own life… Just don’t take them from me. I’m begging you… I-I-I didn’t even know… I didn’t even know…”

next chapter >

I’ll see you guys after Disney World! I’ll still be responding to asks and comments!

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

#the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #tony stark x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #iron man x reader #captain america civil war #civil war #captain america x reader #the winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x reader #marvel imagine #avengers imagine #tony stark imagine #steve rogers imagine #bucky barnes imagine

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jaceyneedsabetterusername · 4 years ago

Text

Broken Down (p.2)

Pairings: Arvin Russell x F!Reader (I just realized that though there’s a few little flirty parts or thoughts, it’s actually pretty platonic and open ended)

Summary: (Part 2 of Broken Down) After escaping from Carl and Sandy, you and Arvin find yourselves in Knockemstiff. Little did either of you know, there was somebody else following you there.

Warnings: Murder, Mention of Suicide, Canonical gore and violence, Reference to sexual assault but no depictions

Word Count: 6.6k

Find Part 1 here!

_________

Meade was the last big town until you hit Knockemstiff and you had decided to pull off at a gas station to fuel up to avoid accidentally running out of gas in the middle of nowhere. When the car’s tires rolled to a crunching halt, Arvin jumped out to pump the gas for you. You stepped out of the car and stood beside him while the tank filled with fuel. “What do you wanna do when we get to Knockemstiff? It seems like why ever you’re here is pretty personal so I understand if you wanna do this alone.”

“Where ‘re you gonna go?” He dodged the question, the pump clicking to a stop in the background. He moved to shake the last few drops from the nozzle before replacing it at the pump.

You and Arvin had talked a bit on your long overnight trip about your lives and your plans. He had told you that he was from Coal Creek and admitted to murdering a preacher named Preston Teagarden that impregnated his adopted sister, Lenora, which led her to committing suicide. He had told you all about this monster of a human and why he felt he had to do what he did and, though it felt twisted to genuinely support the murder of somebody, you couldn’t help but support Arvin’s actions. When you asked what was so special about Knockemstiff, he confessed that it was where he used to live, where his parents had died.

Arvin had never found himself the overly talkative or trusting type. Coal Creek residents only seemed to judge him and his family, from bullies to the richer folk who looked down on his family simply for not having much money. There was something special about you though, and perhaps it was some unspoken bond that came about from nearly being murdered and then murdering said murderers, but it made him feel like he could open up to you more than he’d ever felt with anyone.

You told him about your life and family thus far. You told him about your hometown of Barren Springs, not that there was really much to tell. It was just some small town full of cows and churchgoers. When he asked you what you were gonna do after today, you really weren’t sure. Hell, you were barely sure what you were doing now.

You looked around at the surprisingly clean gas station before picking at your nails, “I don’t really know. Figured I’ll drive around for a few days. Maybe head back to Meade after I drop you off and stay here for a few until the story comes out in the newspaper. Just gotta make sure they don’t have any leads, y’know?”

Arvin adjusted his baseball cap, “You ain’t gotta just disappear. I mean, you been mighty kind givin’ me a ride all the way out here but I don’t wanna just use you for a ride ‘n send you on your way. Not after everythin’.” He paused to think for a moment. His story wasn’t a pleasant one and his entire point in coming all the way out here was to try and find some peace with all ghosts in his closet. It was a personal journey, one that he didn’t really want anyone else to join in on, but he really did feel terrible just using you for a ride so far away and leaving you alone. “‘M gonna go visit my old home from back when I was a boy. There’s some things I gotta do there. It’s, uh, it’s somethin’ I gotta do alone. You’re more than welcome to leave me here if you wanna go somewhere else but I don’t want to make you feel like I just used you for a ride.”

You chewed your lip to hide the small way the corner of your mouth turned upwards at his ever-courteous manner. “Well what’re you gonna do after all this? You gonna be able to make it wherever you need to go?”

“I ain’t got anywhere to go but I’ll figure it out. Don’t you worry ‘bout me,” he admitted, leaning against the car beside you.

You looked up at him with your arms crossed, “How ‘bout I wait in town till you’re done doin’ what you need to do and then you can come stay with me in Barren Springs until you get a plan. It’s better for you to know where you wanna go and what you wanna do before running off.”

Arvin’s eyes narrowed skeptically, “You sure you’re alright with that? I don’t wanna put you out anymore than you’ve already done for me.” He was never one for charity and didn’t want to take anything he felt like he couldn’t reciprocate.

You nodded, pressing yourself off the side of the car and swinging towards the driver's side of the car, “It’s no problem, really. Now how much further to Knockemstiff?”

The drive to Knockemstiff wasn’t long at all and within the hour you and Arvin found yourselves driving along the road that he found hauntingly familiar. Even so, everything looked so different. Arvin couldn’t imagine the town changing much over the last eight or so years so he figured that the place just must have felt darker and grimmer with the ghosts of the tragedies that took place there.

“Where’s your house?” You leaned forward over the steering wheel to peer further ahead up the road, trying to see through the thin layer of condensation that had built up on the inside of your window from the contrast of the heated interior with the dreary drizzly outside.

Arvin gestured up the road you were headed down, “Should be just up there but it’s been a while.” You could see the way the road split off into a fork just up ahead and you could tell by Arvin’s face that he wasn’t quite sure which road was the right one.

“Should we ask someone?” You pointed towards a small building up ahead, pulling over when Arvin nodded.

The pair of you got out of the car to see an older man sitting in a rocking chair on the porch. “Howdy,” he greeted with a thick accent, “You pair look like you been travellin’. Where you headed?”

Arvin shoved his hands in his pockets as he answered, hiding beneath the brim of his hat from the rain. You shielded your face with your hand from the mist, tiny droplets accumulating on your eyelashes. “There used to be a house and a barn up on that hill over there. Some lawyer owned it. You know it?”

“Sure I do. Up in the Mitchell Flats.” The man answered sure as could be.

“Still there?”

The man leaned back, eyeing Arvin, “Well, I’ll be damned. You’re that Russell boy ain’t you?”

You felt the way Arvin tensed up a little beside you, clearly not comfortable with the legacy he seemed to have in this town, but stepped forward nonetheless. You followed him under the shelter of the porch awning, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I just thought, seeing as I was this way, I’d stop by and see the old place again.”

The man sighed heavily and stood, “Son, I hate to tell you this but that place burned some years ago. They think some kids did it. Wasn’t nobody livin’ there since you and your folks.”

“Well, heck, we came all this way. May as well walk up there anyways.” Arvin insisted.

The man’s eyes flicked over to you and back to Arvin, “Sure, just cut across Clarence’s pasture. Don’t know if you remember but there’s some pretty flowers growin’ up there this time of year for your girl there, too. He won’t mind if you take a few.” He glanced at you with implying eyes and you tensed up.

“Oh, uh, we’re not- it ain’t like that.” You stammered over your words, hands waving slightly with a flustered chuckle.

The man put his hands up, “My bad, ma’am. Just figured since you two were…” he paused and cleared his throat, “well, anyways. It’s nice to know you’re doing alright, son.”

Arvin nodded in a brief farewell before turning to head back to the car and you followed, only stopping when he turned back to the man on the porch, “I never did thank you for the night my dad died. You were awful kind to me and I just want you to know that I ain’t never forgot it.”

Even though you didn’t know the extent to which Arvin had suffered that night, the fact that he was thanking this old man that barely recognized him for the good deeds of nearly a decade ago spoke miles in your opinion. You stood back silently, knowing that this was his path to healing and resolution and that, at least for now, you were merely a spectator.

“You had that pie smeared all across your face,” the man reminisced almost as if it were a happy memory, “Damn Bodecker thought it was blood. Remember that?”

You looked at the ground with a silent chuckle at the thought of Arvin as a young boy with pie smeared across his face but that faded when you heard the way he said, “Yeah, I remember everything about that night,” with such heaviness.

“He ain’t the lawman that I expected,” he continued, “Shame about his sister though.”

“Why? What happened?”

“His sister and her husband were found dead. Not far from Meade.”

Your heart stopped beating and you glanced over at Arvin to find him already casting a nearly imperceptible but highly aware glance at you. “That’s awful. They know what happened?” You questioned, trying to force as much sincerity into your tone as possible. There was no telling with certainty that Bodecker’s sister and her husband were Sandy and Carl but that would be a huge coincidence for two different couples to wind up dead not far from Meade on the same day.

The man nodded, “Last I heard, they don’t know for sure. I got a friend who’s son works in the sheriff’s department, though. Said they thought it was a murder-suicide at first but found bullets from a gun that they couldn’t find at the crime scene so they ain’t so sure no more. Looks like they’re investigating it as a murder.”

Your mouth fell open, trying to find the words that would secure your innocence, as if this man had any reason to believe you were guilty anyways, but it took a moment for you to find your voice, “That’s terrible. I hope they figure out what happened,” you lied, less convincingly than you hoped but this man had no reason to not believe you.

He nodded in agreement, “Yeah, real unfortunate to hear. But, uh, I won’t keep you any longer. You two stay safe out there.” He waved the pair of you off and you and Arvin returned to the car.

The second both doors were securely shut, you let out a breath of air you weren’t aware you’d been holding, “We’re fucked, ain’t we?”

“They ain’t got no reason to suspect us.” Arvin tried to reassure but the way he gripped onto his thighs tightly made you nervous.

“He said they found bullets that didn’t match the guns at the scene. Did you pick up the bullets at the church? Can they trace the gun back to you?” Your questions flew frantically, pulling out onto the road and following the fork that the man had pointed down earlier.

Arvin nodded, fingers rolling over the lumps in his pocket where the empty cases had been residing since yesterday. “Yeah, I picked ‘em up. ‘M pretty sure I got ‘em all.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling sick to your stomach, “Good,” You lied, feeling anything but, “good.”

***

You sat at the tiny diner in town at a booth all to yourself, sipping at a soda and picking at a basket of fries. At first, you had thought that you could possibly read the book you’d packed into your bag for the trip but it sat on the table beside the napkin dispenser, untouched since you set it down after giving up at trying to read after your third time rereading the same paragraph and retaining no information.

How could you read at a time like this? No matter how much you thought you had processed what had happened over the last twenty-four hours, it felt like the reality never truly weighed in. They knew that there was an additional gun so they knew someone else was involved. Carl and Sandy were murdered and the police knew it.

And of course Sandy would turn out to be the fucking sheriff’s sister! Just your luck, right? Carl probably could have disappeared and nobody would have noticed but the sheriff’s sister was going to be a hard one to hide from, especially now knowing that they suspected foul play. There’s no reason for anyone to suspect us, you breathed deeply, trying to calm yourself.

The picked at basket of fries hadn’t been nearly as much comfort as you had hoped and your soda was none too great a therapist either. You didn’t realize you’d actually miss Arvin, the man you’d only known less than twenty-four hours, when you’d only dropped him off at the site of his old home thirty minutes ago but there was a loneliness now that made you uneasy. When Arvin was around, the last day’s events felt bearable but now that you were alone, the paranoia gnawed at you.

Reaching for the ice cold Coca-Cola brand glass full of soda, you dragged it towards you, the sparkling liquid fizzing against your tongue as you took a long sip. Focus on the bubbles. Focus on the bubbles. Arvin will be done soon and you can get the hell out of Knockemstiff and as far from the crime scene as possible.

There was a light chime from the small bell that hung over the door that drew your attention and you watched a tall dark haired man walk in, looking around like he owned the place. One of the waitresses walked right up to him with a warm smile, “Heya Sheriff! What can I get you?”

Your blood ran cold at the realization of who this was and your fears were only confirmed when he turned and you could see the heavy expression in his eyes, “‘M not here for food, Sally. You seen a boy and girl come through here? They’re both young and pretty good looking. He’s kinda average height, brown hair?,” he went on to describe you briefly as well before continuing, “Might have been hitchhiking.”

As casually as you could, you picked up the book and buried your face in it, letting your hair drape over the sides of your face to conceal yourself as much as possible. Sally thought for a moment, “Hm, we get the usual hitchhikers through here. The boy got a name?”

“Arvin Russell.” Bodecker’s voice was flat and serious and the waitress could tell that he was in no mood for stretching this out.

She shook her head apologetically, “‘M sorry, Bodecker. I ain’t seen nobody come through here with that name or a new couple at all. I saw Henry talkin’ to a pair who might’ve matched that description though. Saw ‘em on my way into work. Couldn’t see ‘em too well but sounds like they might have had the same hair color. I don’t know… they didn’t look familiar though. Maybe check with him?”

It was amazing how your breath could reverberate so loudly off the thick walls of paper that shrouded your face from view. Your heart pounded in your chest as you continued to eavesdrop in silence. “Yeah, I’ll go do that. Thanks, Sal.”

You peeked over your book to see her nod and perch up on her toes while she gestured to the kitchen, “Can I get you somethin’ for the road? Coffee maybe? You know it’s on the house.”

Bodecker just shook his head, a solemn look on his face, the look of a man on a mission, “Nah, I better just head out.” With that he walked out the door and you watched him carefully as he climbed into his police car and drove off down towards the old man’s house that you and Arvin had been at not more than an hour ago.

This was bad.

As quickly as you could, you paid for your meal and hustled out to your car, practically throwing yourself into the driver’s seat and speeding down the road after the officer. If he was stopping at the old man’s - Henry, as you just learned - house, that could possibly give you enough time to find Arvin at his house and drive off before Bodecker could even find the pair of you.

Your knuckles turned white on the steering wheel as you sped down the road, grateful that the roads were mostly empty at this time of day. The only sound was the wheels spinning against the asphalt and you talking aloud to yourself, trying to devise a plan. “Just get there before Bodecker, pick up Arvin, get the hell outta dodge.” You repeated it over and over again as if it were that simple.

Soon, you passed Henry’s humble abode and, sure enough, the sheriff’s car was parked just outside and you saw his large figure questioning the old man. Neither of them paid your passing car any mind, which you were grateful for as you peeled off down the left fork of the road, the one that led up to the Mitchell Flats.

You pulled up to the flat area that only had remnants of a house’s foundation now. Slabs of cement were the only signs that a house ever was here, mostly broken from years of abuse from the elements and teenagers. When you pulled up, you noticed that Arvin was nowhere to be seen. “Shit!” You hissed, jumping out of the car and jogging down towards his backyard, the direction he had headed when you dropped him off earlier. He couldn’t have made it far.

“Arvin!” You called out, arms reaching out in a desperate attempt to keep your balance as your feet skidded every few steps along the leaves and moss that slicked the hill you hustled down. “Arvin!”

“I really need you to fucking respond…” You groaned the words meant for Arvin aloud to yourself as you nearly tripped over logs on your trek through the woods. The trees all looked the same and you kept glancing behind you to ensure that you weren’t going in circles, often choosing little landmarks, like that one log that had mushrooms growing on it, to make sure you could find your way back.

Finally, you saw Arvin’s form kneeling before an eerie wooden cross, his white t-shirt dirty from several days of less than ideal situations. You ran towards Arvin, tripping slightly over a few rocks here and there along the way. He turned, ears perked up at the sound of your footsteps. “Arvin! Thank God I found you. We gotta go. Bodecker’s onto us. He came into the diner looking for us and is at Henry’s now.”

Arvin stood up hastily, “Where’s the car?”

“Up by where your house used to be.” You pointed over your shoulder in the direction you came from, “C’mon! If we leave now we might be able to get outta here before-” There was the distinct rustle of footsteps coming from uphill that made you freeze. Your voice lowered to nearly a whisper, “Did you hear that?”

Arvin froze as well, the only sound being your breathing, as you both waited for the sound again. Sure enough, there was a rustle of footsteps again. “Arvin Russell! I know you’re down there somewhere!” Bodecker’s voice rang through the forest clear as day, “You ‘n that girl you’re with. I know y’all are out there.”

Arvin literally tackled you to the ground and hugged your body close to his as he rolled the both of you into a small crevice between a fallen tree and a hole beneath it. He pressed you close into the tree, hiding you as far into the small space as he could while he fumbled around in his pocket for his gun.

“It’s Sheriff Bodecker, kids! I just got some questions to ask you!”

Arvin perched up on his elbows to try and peer over the log. You reached up and fisted his shirt, trying to drag him back down. “What the hell are you-”

A gunshot blasted through the empty forest and both you and Arvin flinched aggressively. His body dropped against yours and you held his chest tightly, burying yourself in his body and pulling him as close to you as possible, concealed in the shelter of the log. You let out a tiny shriek of surprise that you muffled by biting your thumb. His arms wrapped around your body in both an attempt to shield you but also as a knee jerk reaction looking for safety himself in you.

“Sorry ‘bout that! Goddamn bird scared me!” Bodecker breathed heavily somewhere to the west of where you were, his footsteps getting closer and closer. “I ain’t here to hurt you! And I know that y’all don’t wanna hurt me. Come on out so we can have us a talk!”

While Bodecker spoke his lies, Arvin laid back on his back and fumbled around with his gun yet again, this time gripping it and loading the clip with shaky clumsy hands. Finally, he got the clip loaded and he cocked the gun, holding it with both hands like an inexperienced marksman.

You looked around frantically for something to use as a weapon, anything to not feel helpless. Rocks and sticks seemed to be your best choices but you knew damn well that wouldn’t do jack shit against a gun. Arvin glanced over at you with fear in his eyes, the fact that you both found yourselves facing death yet again for the second time in two days. Tragedy seemed to loom over Arvin like a storm cloud but, looking in your wide beautiful eyes, he’d be damned if he let you become another ghost in his past.

“I had a feeling you’d be here. Remember that night you brought me up here? That was an awful thing your daddy did.” His footsteps were terrifyingly close now and you did the only thing you could think of to help. You tossed a stone as far away as you could. According to plan, Bodecker jumped and shot at the sudden movement. “God damnit, don’t fuck with me!”

Arvin may have had the gun but if you could make Bodecker waste his ammo, that was less chances he had of shooting you and Arvin. It was the best solution you could come up with in the heat of the moment. Bodecker sounded furious now and when you peeked over the log, you saw him hiding behind a tree.

You threw another rock in his direction and he wasted yet another shot. “Fuck! I swear to God-” He cursed angrily, knowing he was wasting his shots on nothing.

“Put the gun down, Sheriff. I got one pointed right at you!” Arvin yelled back and your eyes blew wide in panic. You smacked him on the arm and the question in your eyes was clear: What the hell are you thinking?

“Can’t do that son!”

“Just set it on the ground and step away.” Arvin’s voice shook despite his attempt at sounding firm.

“What?” Bodecker asked with a notable change in his tone. Footsteps started approaching again.

Poor Arvin fell right into the trap. “Just set it on the ground and step away!” He repeated even louder. You smacked his arm again and held a finger to your lips.

“So you can kill me like you did my sister and that preacher in West Virginia?” Bodecker hollered back. “You and that girl murdered my sister, didn’t you?”

For the first time since the incident, you felt actual guilt for what you’d done. Hearing the way Bodecker’s voice cracked with grief made you realize that Sandy’s death did actually have an effect on other people, even if she wasn’t a good person. Arvin swallowed hard too, “We ain’t bad people, Sheriff. That preacher weren’t no good. He hurt my sister so bad she killed herself, Sheriff. I had no choice!”

You shook your head and waved your hands at him, desperately pleading him to stop talking. Bodecker’s footsteps were only getting closer and you knew he was getting Arvin to talk so he could locate the two of you. Arvin just had to explain himself, though, and before you could move, Bodecker was right on top of you. From your new position, awkwardly creeping up a nearby tree, using its trunk for cover, you could see Bodecker’s shotgun peek out from around a tree.

“I hate to be the one to tell you this, Sheriff, but your sister and her husband… they weren’t no good neither.” Arvin continued to explain yourselves to the sheriff. By then, your upper back was pressed up awkwardly against a standing tree but you were still lying down, hiding mostly against the fallen log still. Arvin stayed laying on his back, gun up against his chest. “I got a snapshot in my pocket of her huggin’ on some dead guy. And Y/N… you shoulda seen what they was doin’ to her,” Arvin’s eyes met yours and you could see a well of unshed tears as this poor boy was on the verge of breaking at the thought of watching you relive that horror. It was a brief moment that he wanted only you to see before he continued, “What they wanted to do to us. We had no choice! Let loose that gun and I’ll show it to you!”

Suddenly, Bodecker jumped out from behind the tree and Arvin pulled the trigger as soon as he saw him coming but not before the sheriff got a shot off right at the two of you as well. You shrieked out in pain as a few pellets from the shotgun grazed your arm, tearing holes in your jacket. They weren’t deep wounds but they tore long thin gashes across your flesh that began bleeding immediately.

“Agh!” You yelled out, clutching your bicep that was already wet with crimson liquid. Arvin rolled over next to you, having flinched away from the bullets in the opposite direction. You wanted to ask if he was alright but he rolled back over to look up at Bodecker, confirming that he was thankfully at least alive.

Your attention went to the sheriff as well who stood there looking dumbfounded at the red spot blossoming on his shirt. His jaw went slack and his knees buckled before he finally dropped to the ground. You and Arvin shot each other glances of disbelief. You both pressed yourselves off the ground and hopped over the log towards the sheriff.

Bodecker was on the ground, gasping and trying to hang onto what was left of his life. The first thing you did before even looking at him long was kneel down and take his gun from his hand. Now that you were sure he couldn’t hurt you, you looked down at him sadly. Killing Sandy and Carl had been disturbingly easy because they were genuinely terrible people who were trying to murder you. They also died quickly. Bodecker lied helpless on the ground at the mercy of two young adults, gasping and gripping desperately to this world. This time, the murder made your heart feel heavy. Yes, he had been trying to murder you and Arvin but it was for his sister’s sake. There was a twisted nobility in the action that you could empathize for.

Bodecker looked up at Arvin and then up at you. “So it was you in that picture,” he attempted to say, his voice a hoarse whisper.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “What do you mean?”

He laid his head back, too tired to continue straining himself, “In… in my pocket… Found some pictures in Carl’s camera of… of a girl crying with her shirt.. With her shirt…” Bodecker attempted to explain but his voice failed him as much as his the rest of his body was beginning to shut down.

You gasped at the mention of the photographs. In the heat of everything, you had completely forgotten that Carl had taken a few pictures of you. You patted down the sheriff’s pocket until you found a developed picture of you with your shirt torn wide open, bra out for the world to see, and tears streaming down your face despite the defiantly angry look on your face. Sandy was topless behind you, her lips pressing against your neck and her hands gripping your breasts, pressing them up and inwards to amplify their suppleness. Her direct eye contact with the camera was chilling.

You shuttered at the picture, shoving it in your own pocket instead of giving it back to Bodecker. You weren’t sure what you’d do with it but you couldn’t risk anyone else seeing it.

Arvin had caught a glimpse of the picture and noticed the way it shook in your hands. He noticed the way your eyes glazed over looking at it like you couldn’t believe it was actually you. When you shoved it in your pocket, he sighed and pulled out his own photograph to show the sheriff, the one of Sandy posing nude behind a man’s corpse.

“We had no choice.” He told Bodecker. There was such sincerity in his voice and almost an apology in his eyes for the harm that he had caused to Bodecker and his family. It was never meant to be like this for either you or him. Neither of you were supposed to have become killers. Your hands were never meant to be stained red but life or death situations called for extreme measures and it had been you or them every time. “They was gonna kill us. I swear.”

“We didn’t wanna do it but they had a gun to our heads and tried to force us to... We didn’t have a choice. They were gonna kill us.” You reiterated, voice just as shaky as Arvin’s as you had to sit and come to terms with the events of the last twenty-four hours.

“I’m so sorry.” You and Arvin apologized in uncoordinated unison, hanging your heads low to genuinely show how sorry you were for causing him pain and that it had all had to boil down to this.

Bodecker’s eyes left the pair of you and stared upwards at the trees. You glanced up to see what he was looking at and saw a beautiful clearing in the branches that framed the perfectly clear late afternoon sky. It was a beautiful view to have to be your last, you thought morbidly but truthfully.

You and Arvin sat by Bodecker’s side, listening to his ragged strained breaths until they finally stopped and you knew he was gone. It felt like the least you could do after everything, staying with him so he didn’t die alone. You hoped that maybe it counted as some shred of redemption for the sins committed over the last two days.

When Bodecker’s body finally went limp and his eyes glazed over, you reached up and brushed your hand over his face, closing his eyes. You couldn’t stand to see the empty blue orbs stare off into nothingness and know there was nobody behind those eyes anymore. Arvin stood up and walked over to where you had been hiding, not giving Bodecker’s body much attention at all after he finally slipped away.

With a heavy sigh, you pressed yourself to your feet and walked over to where Arvin stood, looking down at a hole full of animal bones that you hadn’t noticed earlier. You visibly cringed, wondering what in the hell you walked into, “What’s that?”

Sadness overtook Arvin’s features as he stared at the pile of bones, “My best friend from when I was a boy. I had to come back and give him a proper burial.” His vague answer clearly had a story attached to it but you didn’t have the heart to press him further on it right now. Arvin turned his attention to the pistol in his hand, the one he had used to shoot Teagarden, Carl, and Bodecker, and saw nothing but the bloodshed it had caused.

You wished you could know what was going on in Arvin’s brain as he twisted that Luger in his hand. His eyes were deep with remorse, grief, and heartache and you could tell that this boy had seen too many tragedies for one lifetime and somehow, they were all related to the gun he held in his hand.

After almost a minute of silence, he placed the gun gingerly on top of the bones in the makeshift grave and piled it full of dirt until it was indistinguishable from the rest of the forest floor. The only landmarks to signify its location were the three crosses that humbly stood above it. “Why’d you do that?” You asked with gentle curiosity.

He stood up but kept his eyes trained on where the hole once was, “My daddy always told me to wait for the right time to do anything.,” He nodded his head, as if agreeing with his own decision, “I think it’s the right time.” His answer was cryptic and, yet again, you could tell there was a story behind it that you would have to wait to discover.

There was a cool breeze that sent goose bumps rising across your arms and you glanced around the forest to see the leaves rustle and fall to the ground. That was when the black and white clothing of Sheriff Bodecker stood out against the gold and brown foliage and reality settled back in.

“We should probably get outta here soon, Arv.” You urged with a gentle tone, a hand coming to rest softly on Arvin’s bicep.

Arvin’s jumped slightly, eyes darting down to where your skin gently grazed his own. The softness of your touch and the sincerity in your eyes was one that he wasn’t sure he’d experienced since his mother. Even Lenora hadn’t filled that gap that he was secretly desperate for to be filled. She was kind and gentle but had a childlike naivety that you lacked. Arvin’s mother had never looked at him the way you did either. His mother had been tender and compassionate but there was a different kind of understanding in the way that you looked at him. One look into your eyes validated all of his sins over the last few days, for better or worse.

His opposite hand reached across his body and rested over yours, revelling silently in the way your hand fit against his. “Yeah… you’re right.” Arvin took one last look at the three crosses that had haunted his dreams for years and it was almost as if he could feel himself kneeling before them with his father. These weren’t memories he ever thought he’d want to hold onto but now that he was faced with the possibility of never coming back, a part of him felt reluctant to leave. “Rest easy now, Jack.” He let his hand fall from yours with his last good bye and while you weren’t entirely sure who Jack was, you were fairly certain it was the name of whoever those bones in that grave belonged to.

“‘M sorry,” Arvin said out of the blue from the driver’s seat of your car, shaking you from the silent daze that both of you had been sitting in for the last thirty minutes.

You tore your eyes from the dashboard where they had long since zoned out on, emotionally overwhelmed, to look over at him. “For what?” You asked, brows furrowed.

“If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have gotten caught up in all this.”

You shook your head, “That ain’t true, Arvin. We both ended up in Carl and Sandy’s car yesterday and we both pulled those triggers. Bodecker was shooting at us because he couldn’t settle with the fact that his sister was a monster. It’s like you said, us or them. I probably would’ve died with Sandy and Carl if it weren’t for you being there so if anything, I should be thanking you. You saved my life.”

Arvin looked over at you, his eyes red from holding back tears for so long but he still shed none. He wasn’t sure what to say to that. The way you had been sitting so quietly had him convinced that you hated him for dragging you into a life ruining situation. “Well I wouldn’t have made it this far without you either so thank you.”

You nodded with a small appreciative smile but there was an exhausted sadness behind your features that Arvin shared. Silence settled back over the car aside from the faint ever present sound of the wind outside the car as you and Arvin drove on down the highway headed for Pennsylvania. Neither of you knew what your next steps were but since killing Bodecker, you’d both decided that heading back to Barren Springs was not a wise decision. The two of you needed to get as far away from this area as you could, at least until everything blew over - that was, if it ever would. If Bodecker could track Arvin, that must have meant the other police officers knew that he had killed Teagarden as well. You weren’t sure if the police knew that you and Arvin were responsible for Carl and Sandy but you could assume as much since Bodecker came after the two of you. Even if they didn’t, there were pictures of you on Carl’s camera but your body wasn’t at the crime scene. Finally, when Bodecker didn’t return, wouldn’t that just put you and Arvin at the top of the suspect list?

So with all the uncertainty in the world, you sat in the passenger seat of your own car with a stranger who you felt like you understood more than you’d ever understood anyone, driving across state lines with no clue as to what you future held. You didn’t know where you were going, when you’d get to come back home, when you could safely see anyone you cared about again, or what was going to happen to all your life goals now. Everything that had been planned and comfortable had been stolen away by a twisted couple picking up a poor girl with a broken down car.

You didn’t know what was waiting for you in Pennsylvania, or anywhere for that matter, but even with all the uncertainty, one thing felt beyond doubt. Maybe it was the exhaustion from going two days with no sleep but you just knew Arvin Russell was going to be in your life from this day forward. There was something you couldn’t explain between the two of you. A spark felt like an inappropriate way to put it under the circumstances of your relationship thus far but it was an understanding, an empathy, a trust, a sense of protection of one another. When you tore your eyes off the road ahead long enough to look over at the man sitting beside you, his hair parted messily down the middle and his face and shirt smudged with dirt, you could have sworn you saw your future. Whether it was a future in prison together, as partners in crime, friends, or lovers, you weren’t quite sure, but a content smile crept up on your face at the inexplicably comforting knowledge that Arvin Russell would be there with you for whatever ups and downs were to come.

#Arvin Russell #arvin russel imagine #tom holland imagine #tom holland #arvin russel #arvin russell x reader #arvin russel x y/n #arvin russel imagines #arvin russell x you #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tdalt #tdatt #tdatt imagine #tdatt fics #The Devil All The Time

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krappykawa · 4 years ago

Note

I read your s/o who likes to read hcs and was wondering if you could do the same request format or whatever it is you'd call it but with terishima,akaashi, iwa, Oikawa,and Daichi? Sorry if that's a lot! -anon

with a s/o that likes to read (part 2)

— iwaizumi, oikawa, terushima, daichi, and akaashi

word count. 1.4k

genre. fluff

note. i made these ones shorter than the ones in part two because anon requested a lot of characters and i didn’t wanna run out of headcanons to write,,, i hope you still like this though!

part one here

IWAIZUMI.

- will read the books that you’re reading just because he likes the feeling of being able to bond with you over something you love since you’re so supportive of him already (literally the perfect man. perfect bf. give me a kiss rn RN!!)

- maybe not all of them, but if you get him hooked on the description, then he will probably finish the book faster than you

- if he doesn’t like a book very much he’ll take ages to finish it though

- if you ask him about how he’s doing with reading it he’ll be like “oh i’m almost done” when in reality he’s only 20 pages in

- he’ll send you texts about the books you recommend but they’ll be super blunt like “this character just died” or “oh they kissed”

- you sit at your phone for 20 minutes debating on how to respond to those because HOW??

- he loves cuddles,,,, would literally die for cuddles

- so when you climb into his lap with a book in hand and bury your head in his neck as you read his heart literally malfunctions

- his cute s/o with their reading obsession that he secretly finds so endearing climbing into his lap for cuddle time,,,,,, his heart goes &2:$84!;💞💖💘💖💓💖💞/):&38,

- iwaizumi.exe has stopped working

- but he’s also not afraid to pull you into his lap if he sees you reading on the couch

- he’ll probably put on a monster movie and just hold you as you read and he watches

- probably also buried his nose in your hair and revels in your scent (also kisses your head every so often because he can’t help it and AHHHH HES SO CUTE)

- when you start sending him messages about your books, he will attempt to respond to every single text or he will just wait until you’re done and text back with “u done?” (not in a mean way though) there’s no inbetween

- he’s smiling every time you send him those texts though

- aoba johsai’s volleyball team (ESPECIALLY OIKAWA) teases him mercilessly if they ever catch him smiling at his phone in the locker room or during class or during lunch (basically u text him a lot lol)

- sometimes when you slam your book shut and scream into your pillow, he will just watch you with amused eyes and probably make an offhand comment that’s similar to “remember to breathe while you’re at it.”

- you end up throwing the pillow at him (which he catches and then proceeds to walk to where you are and swing you over his shoulder)

- get your mind out of the gutter on the “over his shoulder” part i swear he’s just teasing you for throwing a pillow at him (I CAN FEEL YOUR MIND WANDERING STOP IT)

OIKAWA.

- he makes an effort to read your books, really he does

- he’s just really busy, so most of the books he promises he will read stay only half way read through and never picked up ever again

- if you give him a sci-fi book though, this man will literally finish it at an insane pace

- literally he would be the one to text you at some ungodly hour (usually 3AM in the morning) because he just finished the book in one sitting and he’s literally brimming with reactions

- will text things like “WHAT THE FUCK HE JUST DIED”, “YN SEND HELP I THINK THEY’RE ABOUT TO DO SOMETHING STUPID”, “OH MY GODDDD I HATE THIS BITCH CAN THEY STOP TALKING” (always in all caps whenever he’s reacting to a book)

- you better pray that he doesn’t end up hating a character because he will text you every single time they show up on a page and complain about them

- “this character reminds me of ushijima why would you put me through this 🤕🤕”

- or “THEYRE TALKING AGAIN?? WHEN WILL THEY GET THE MEMO THAT I WANT THEM TO . ST F U ‼️😻”

- anyways, if it’s not sci-fi, it’s probably sitting on his nightstand and never touched again until you steal the book back

- CLAIMS he tried reading them (he got 2 pages in and then put it down)

- he is also a huge cuddler

- but you will not be able to read in his lap because he’s so fucking whiny

- “y/n-channn pay attention to meeee. you can read about that insanely hot dude in your book when you’re not already sitting in an insanely hot dude’s lap”

- big pouty face

- it works every single time and you hate him for it

- once you put your book down he will not let you go for a good ten minutes

- he also has tons of pictures of you reading on his phone because he thinks you’re so cute and feels like he has to snap a picture so he can remember how cute you looked at that very moment

- a lot like iwaizumi, oikawa will attempt to reply to every single one of your book related texts (except oikawa succeeds at replying to every single one)

- like you could literally send him fifty text messages in a row and you will get fifty replies back

TERUSHIMA.

- i am so sorry to say this but i genuinely cannot see terushima being interested in your books whatsoever

- he thinks that it’s boring and always questions how you can just sit down for hours on end and just read

- this changes when you give him one of those insane, mind-boggling, really dark, murder-mystery books

- he’ll scoff at it but after a lot of begging on your part, he’ll give it a try

- he loves it

- he told you that he never got bored and that feeling like that while reading a book is so weird to him

- that is the only book you’ll ever get him to read though (okay maybe he’ll read a few more if you beg him for it with that cute pouty face of yours that he cannot resist)

- like he’ll treat that murder mystery book as a holy grail and insist that nothing will ever top it

- i’m sorry again but he probably texts you “what u doing rn?” and if you say something about reading he’ll try to get you to do literally anything else (most likely will send a horny text to try and steal you away from your reading, let’s be honest here)

- “come over baby you can experience all that you’re reading in that book first hand 😏😏😏”

- if you send him text reactions of your book he will most likely reply with “awe babe ur so cute” but not say anything about the books in itself (IM SORRY HE’S NOT MEAN ABOUT IT THOUGH)

- cuddling with him while reading will never happen

- seriously

- he will do everything in his power to get you to put the book down

- like start peppering you with kisses or tickling you

- he just can’t stand sitting down in silence for so long lol

- he doesn’t put you down for reading though

- like yeah he might not understand it and thinks it’s boring, but he admires that you care so much about it and also admires your commitment

DAICHI.

- admires you for reading honestly

- like i feel like he’s the type to get really good grades but will not look at a book that he hasn’t been assigned to read for his life

- that being said, he probably has never read any of the books you ask him to read with you

- he’s told you he’s read one or two which is a lie (you know it’s a lie but you don’t tell him that because you know he feels bad about not reading them)

- he isn’t on his phone often so most of the time your texts don’t get answered for hours

- it’s kinda fun that way though because after a while you just start sending him long text threads and it’s like talking to yourself

- when he does respond it’s with something like “you look like you had fun there” (after that he’ll apologize for not seeing it and then ask if you had anything else about the book that you wanted to tell him about AWEHISHFNF)

- very good listener!! he’ll try and have a genuine conversation about the book even if he hasn’t read it (like if you want to talk about how you think the plot doesn’t work, he will either support you or give you valid reasons that sparks constructive conversation)

- will absolutely never see the texts you send at 1AM (until the morning) because he always passes out before 11PM

- will see them in the morning and will text back “well good morning to me”

- he has absolutely no clue what you’re talking about in the texts but tries his hardest to be supportive

- cuddling while you’re reading happens nearly every single time you’re together

- is very stressed from dealing with his volleyball children so he’ll more than happily sit on the couch and cuddle with you as you read

- sometimes he falls asleep while you cuddle and you just snuggle into him and it’s so cute

AKAASHI.

- THIS LITTLE SHIT

- man oh man he loves acting like a smart ass whenever you text him about your books

- you’ll be like “my favorite character just died!!” and he’ll be like “well tell them to not die then wtf”

- will stay up late texting you about your book though because he’s most likely reading it with you so you two can bounce ideas off of each other

- if you like a character that he hates he will not hesitate to start a debate about why you shouldn’t like that character (full one page of reasons. this man takes his opinions very seriously)

- if you’re together at his house or something and you start yelling at your book he’ll be like “y/n don’t hurt its feelings.”

- you momentarily pause your yelling to deadpan him

- he stares right back

- “just be nice.” (you’re like BWAH???)

- HE ALSO YELLS AT HIS BOOKS THOUGH

- it’s uncommon but it does happen

- if you’re both reading or you’re doing homework and he’s reading, he’ll slam the book shut and yell about how stupid this character is (and when i mean yell, i mean yell)

- and if he doesn’t like the ending of something he will rant for days and you’ll have to remind him to take a breath

- he gets so hyped up from reading books it’s so cute

- will read with you when you cuddle read (does that make sense??? like when you cuddle with him while reading)

- will mumble things under his breath while you’re both reading but you’re on his lap so you can hear everything and you just laugh

- one time he mumbled “stupid bitch just fucking die already” to this character he hated

- you had to put down the book because you were laughing so hard

#oikawa x reader #oikawa headcanons #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi headcanons #terushima x reader #terushima headcanons #daichi x reader #daichi headcanons #akaashi x reader #akaashi headcanons #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons

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kpop-stan23-writes · 3 years ago

Text

the black pirates: part i

summary: jeong yunho is tall and looks imposing, which is why your parents hire him. but there's something beneath his clean-cut facade that makes you insist he be your personal bodyguard

group: ateez member: yunho with seonghwa and hongjoong genre: dystopian word count: 1.6k warnings: none pairing: tba

tag list: @seojonneh let me know if you'd like to be added!

masterlist | previous | next

yunho doesn't like you

as a member of the black pirates, he hates everything your parents and their ilk stand for

when word spread that your parents were searching for a guard for their precious child, the black pirates decided it is the perfect opportunity to plant a spy

and when you insist on hiring him, yunho and the pirates think they hit the jackpot because wow was it easy to infiltrate the home of a very vocal supporter of the current government

yunho's cool, professional demeanor is his way to keep from sneering whenever he sees you or your parents

it's easy at first, since he's really only around you when you're outside the safety of your home

the other pirates urge him to find a way to spend more time with you, and more specifically, more time in your home, as anything about you or your parents' lives might provide an edge for their cause

yunho is against it, because does he really have to spend even more time around you?

but the two founders are adamant, and they have ultimate say in the group's actions

they decide to nudge your family into declaring you need protection at all times by slipping notes into the mailbox, insinuating a kidnapping is eminent, or that their gilded cage is only so protective, or they are the first on their list

that only seems to tighten the perimeter security, as well as severely cut down on your time outdoors, thus severely cutting down on yunho's interactions with you

finally, the leaders decide to take matters into their own hands

the other pirates are against it, because security has been heightened and what would happen to the cause if they are captured?

but they insist, and there's no changing their minds

they set out in the dead of night, dressed in dark clothes and dark caps covering their silver-blond and bright red hair

mingi and yeosang are put in charge of layout and security

san covers the comms

wooyoung provides distractions if needed while jongho is the extraction plan

yunho, they say, needs to go to the address listed as his residence in case the family decides to call for him right away

with their plan carefully laid out, seonghwa and hongjoong sneak over the wall surrounding your property

with a floorplan memorized with the help of yunho and yeosang, the leaders of the black pirates make a beeline for your room, which is located on the third floor

mingi, overseeing the security cameras, loops the feed so they can cross the expansive lawn

yeosang warns them of security patrols

san relays all of that over the comms

and wooyoung and jongho wait nervously in the unmarked van parked down the street

the exterior of your three-story home is old brick covered in trellises growing ivy and flowering vines

and just outside your bedroom window grows an old, sturdy tree

they put on their now-infamous attire of black spiked masks and wide-brimmed hats before seonghwa boosts hongjoong onto the lowest branch

once seonghwa is settled beside hongjoong, they begin their trek up the tree

despite the late hour, you're still awake, sitting at the small desk in your room

the lights are off save the small lamp beside you and beside your bed

you're reading a book of poems that have been banned but your grandmother had snuck you before she died

you take a break to stretch and rub the knots in your shoulders when you think you hear rustling outside your window

you freeze, uncertain if you're simply imagining things

but when you hear a quiet curse followed by a hissed "shush!" you realize several someones are just outside your window

before you can react, two heads pop into view

you recognize them immediately as members of the black pirates, with their signature hats and masks

which makes you pause

you make eye contact with one of them as you're halfway out of your chair

there's something familiar in the dark eyes that makes your heart clench

the second pirate raises something, you assume to smash your window

but you don't get a good look before a maid enters, presumably to remind you of the time

instead, she sees the two dark shapes in the window and screams

when you look back, they're gone

but the alarm has been sounded and now the entire household is awake

your parents rush into your room

your mother is in a panic and your father is yelling at the top of his lungs to catch those pirates goddammit!

once your mother has gotten over the shock she fawns and coos over you in a way she hasn't since you were five and scraped your knees trying to learn how to ride a bike

once your father has ordered the guards to search the grounds high and low he crouches in front of you and holds you tightly in an embrace you haven't been in since you were six and had woken up screaming from a nightmare

you appreciate their gestures, but you know they don't hold the same warmth they once had

and honestly, you don't need their comfort now

but they stay with you for the rest of the night despite your protests

they call yunho first thing in the morning and tell him to pack a bag; he's moving in

your father makes an announcement in front of your home, stating who is responsible for the near-kidnapping of his precious child

yo and your mother stand behind him, her arm around your shoulder

yunho stands just off to your side, as stoic as ever

just hours later, the black pirates respond, explaining they were serious in their threats and this wouldn't be their last attempt

yunho is now with you all day, every day, usually in your large bedroom or in the equally large study that is exclusively yours

he maintains the same distance as when he was just your guard for outdoor excursions

just sitting in the corner of the room, keeping a look out

you fall into a pattern over the next couple months

he rises early and takes all the notes he can about the details of your home, the staff members and their backgrounds, and most importantly, your father and his job

once you've been roused and dressed and made ready for the day by a maid, you step outside of your room to find yunho waiting outside

he'll escort you silently to the grand dining room, where it's just you eating because your father is off at his office and your mother is busy doing whatever socialite mothers do and yunho has already eaten

after that, you head back to your personal study, because where else can you go now that the pirates have resurfaced?

the rest of the large house is more for show than for living

so you've made your bedroom and your study the only real "lived in" rooms

sometimes you have tutors come over to teach you whatever new history the leaders have declared the true and only story of your country's creation

or the same handful of approved novels and poems are brought to you to analyze because perhaps now that you're older you'll find new meaning in the words

or you'll practice the same handful of approved piano pieces because you've mastered them years ago but practice makes perfect and what if you're asked one day to perform for guests and you don't want to be rusty now do you

today, though, your mother gives you permission to go out to the market

it's been nearly three months since the incidence with the pirates, and they have once again grown quiet

she insists though on making it a short outing, just in case they have people watching

yunho supposes she isn't as air-headed as he thought; the pirates are always watching

after almost an hour of mindlessly wandering through the stalls and simply enjoying your time outdoors, yunho suddenly stiffens

because what is seonghwa doing here? he hasn't forgotten a demonstration, has he?

you notice yunho is no longer walking beside you and turn to ask him what's wrong

he insists he's fine, nothing's wrong, but his gaze remains glued to the spot where seonghwa was just a moment before

you start to turn to see what the heck has gotten his attention but he puts his hands on your shoulders, preventing you from seeing what has spooked him

a leather-clad shoulder bumps into you suddenly, sending you stumbling forward a few steps

you stand on your tiptoes to peer over yunho's shoulder to see if you can catch the rude person who didn't even bother to apologize

through the sea of people, you see a figure that seems to be wearing the same type of leather you glimpsed out of the corner of your eye

but is that bright red hair you see peaking out from under his black cap?

bright red, clearly dyed, hair?

yunho immediately declares you've been out long enough, it's time to head home, it's not safe out in the open

you try to argue, saying you've been out for barely an hour, you're in a crowd of people, what trouble could you get into?

but yunho is adamant and refuses to let go of your shoulders as he steers you toward the car

it's not until later that night you realize there's a scrap of paper in your pant pocket

in neat scrawl are the words: trust yunho

it's signed your pirate prince

you gasp because it's been years since you've heard that phrase

you used to say it with such fondness to your next door neighbor and childhood crush: park seonghwa

it was you and him and your other best friend kim hongjoong against the world

the neighborhood parents used to watch you three with such amusement and called you the cutest trio they had ever seen

the black pirates couldn't be...that's too much of a coincidence...right?

you go to bed that night with that note clutched to your chest, your heart hammering, as you ponder what it could all possibly mean

#ateez #yunho #seonghwa #hongjoong #the black pirates au #dystopian au #ateez dystopian au

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wkemeup · 5 years ago

Text

By Any Other Name (13)

series summary: When Special Agent Bucky Barnes is tasked with infiltrating the notorious gang Hydra and gathering evidence against its leader, Brock Rumlow, Bucky finds himself drawn to the woman who doesn’t seem to belong in this world of violence, the wife of the head of Hydra… you. pairing: bucky x reader chapter word count: 4.1k warnings: smut (18+), a relief from all that angst, a bubble where nothing bad can happen (if only for a moment) 🌹series masterlist 🌹

The air was cool as you followed James into a third story apartment of an old brownstone. Faded bricks lined up the street-side wall and a couple dozen plants in desperate need of watering sat under the windows. The hinges squeaked as the door closed behind you, a few scuffs on the interior and a deadbolt near the lock. You handed him the baseball cap he insisted you wear to obstruct your face and the heavy overcoat you borrowed.

James smiled nervously at you as he started to shrug off his jacket, watching the way you stepped further into the quaint, one-bedroom apartment. The couch looked to be a few years old, well-worn with use from the dip in the cousins and the faint discoloration of sunlight draped along the backrest. There were newspapers and mail piled high on the kitchen table, an empty mug on the coffee table in the living room, a sweatshirt hung over the back of a chair by the television.

It was so domestic, so genuine; a glimpse into the place where he felt most at home. Safe.

“It’s cute,” you commented, gesturing to the open floor plan that allowed you to step from the furthest end of the kitchen to the wall of the living room in less than ten paces. You touched the exposed brick along the wall by the fireplace, the slight prickles of the cement scraping your fingertips.

“It’s a closet,” James laughed, shaking his head. The edges of his hair fell into his eyes but he quickly brushed it away. “It’s nothing compared to--”

“Maybe I like a closet,” you said, cutting him off before he could even bring up the home you’d been kept locked away in like a prisoner. It was extravagant and spoiled in riches, but it was cold and unkind. You trailed your fingers along the edge of his couch, soft under your nails, as you made your way back to him. “It’s nice to see something that’s really yours.” A pause as he nodded, smile brimming on his face though his cheeks were flushed. “This is your apartment, right? It’s not just part of the cover?”

James laughed at that. “Yeah, it’s mine. Bureau wouldn’t dare spend an extra dime to get James Karpov a nicer place.”

You stood in front of him, tips of your fingers gently dancing around his own until your hands intertwined and you felt the bare warmth of his palms heat the chill of your skin. Leaning into his chest, you cherished the oaky scent of his shampoo, letting your gaze wander around the small, Brooklyn based apartment, that held so many clues to the real identity of the man whose heart you could hear thumping inside his chest.

Baseball cards were framed, but not hung, leaning against the wall on the top bookcase. Sneakers kicked off by the front door like he’d just come back from a run and didn’t quite have the energy to get them in the closet just yet. The manila envelopes stacked on the end table by the couch with coffee rings on the top.

There were a dozen pillows floating around between the couch and the love seat, an old woven rug placed underneath and candles sitting on the fireplace mantel. Photos hung on the walls of the faces you’d been reacquainted with just hours ago; their smiles beaming, mid laugh, dressed in what looked like matching softball outfits with ‘FBI’ embroidered across the front. All so exceptionally normal.

“Y/n?” he called softly, a strain in his voice that surprised you.

“Hmm?”

“You think you might--” he paused, a heavy breath out. “You think you might ever forgive me?”

You pulled back, startled by his question, to find him chewing on his lower lip, tugging at dried skin and trembling exhales past his tongue. Careful hands reach up to the sides of his face, thumbs tracing over cheekbones and grazing the scratch of bristles along his beard line.

“For what?” you asked gently. “For working tirelessly to put a dangerous criminal behind bars where he belongs? For being so impossibly kind and patient with Peter and treating me like maybe I was worth something more than just a trophy on my husband’s arm? For being the good man I always knew you were?”

You felt the muscles of his jaw clench under your palms, eyes darting down to the floor, but he stayed silent.

“So, I don’t know your real name,” you conceded playfully, trying to pull a smile from his lips, “and maybe you weren’t entirely truthful about what you did for a living, but, James, tonight I found out that the man I love doesn’t blindly kill people for a living, doesn’t willingly work for the same vile monster who trapped me in a marriage and threatened to beat my sixteen-year-old cousin within an inch of his life. You don’t need my forgiveness, James, because what you’ve given me is just... relief.”

You were smiling, weightless almost, and it surprised you to find him frozen under your touch. Wide eyes bore into yours, blue faded to dark grey in the dim lighting of his kitchen, and he slowly unclenched his jaw.

“What did you say?” His voice tense, almost aching, a little desperate and you stitched your brows at the center.

You pursed your lips, repeating the last thing you’d said. “There’s nothing to forgive, so you don’t have to—”

“Not that.”

You narrowed your eyes, confused.

“You said,” James started, unsure as he watched for your reaction, “you said you loved me.”

Had it really slipped out that easily?

You thought about it for a moment, considered the gravity those were held; that they hadn’t been spoken since they were told to a perceived notion of a man who never once cared for you in the way you’d believed. They were an act of manipulation, of deceit, and they had held nothing but disdain.

Until James. Until the beautiful man with a name you didn’t know and the bluest eyes you’d ever seen.

“Did I?” you exhaled; throat dry suddenly.

A flash of panic quickly crossed James features, a harsh breath in and he nervously stuttered out, “you can take it back if you—”

“No!” you blurted out without much of a second thought. You didn’t need one. This was something you were absolutely certain of. You tucked a fallen hair behind your ear and confirmed, “no, I… I don’t want to take it back.”

Leaning onto his chest, you could feel the rapid pace of his heart pulsing beneath your touch. The unsteady rhythm and the deep rise and fall of his breaths, the physical manifestations of the nerves rushing through your own body, though you waited patiently.

“Good,” he said after a while, like he’d needed a moment to find his bearings.

“Is it?” you teased, chewing on the edge of your lip.

He nodded, smiling growing on his face. “Will you say it again?”

“What?” you replied, grinning wildly and feigning confusion. “’The man I love’ or ‘I love you’ or--”

Lips on yours, a laugh in his breath and a smile etched to his cheeks, the words died easily on your tongue. There wasn’t anything quite like the way he kissed you, all warmth and comfort, wet and aching; he kissed like every touch of your lips might be the last time, like he had novels worth of last words to say and all he had was the gentle tug of his teeth to your bottom lip, the sweep of his tongue over yours, to convey what he was desperate to say.

“Any of it,” he gasped, breathless between kisses along your jawline. “All of it. Say it a million times.”

“Greedy, aren't you?” Your stomach was aching with laughter, his lips kissing along your neckline, the crease of your jaw, your collarbone, and his hands roaming along your hips send goosebumps and tingles up your spine.

“Maybe. You should try it yourself sometime,” he teased, labored breath and stunning red color on his lips. Slowly, he cupped the sides of your face, and pressed a tender, chaste kiss to your lips. “I love you.”

You knew and yet your heart was threatening to burst straight out of your chest. It was in the way the plump red of his lips curved into that smile you adored, the winkles up by ocean blue eyes, dimples caved into his cheeks and the faint outline of scars he’d earned protecting the only family you had left.

“I love you,” he said again, followed by a kiss to your forehead. Lingering, gentle, and sweet.

“I love you,” and a kiss to your nose. Brief and chaste.

“I love you.” Lips on your clavicle. Warmer, open and wet.

“I love you.” He sank down to his knees, the wide surface of his palms resting ever so slightly in a feather’s touch upon your waist line, fingers pressing against skin hidden under your shirt.

You watched him, waiting under bated breaths, as he slowly slipping his hands up under the fabric, tracing along your spine. It lifted the edge of the shirt just enough for him to press a kiss to your stomach, just above your jeans.

A sigh escaped you, and you lifted your arms above your head, the tension burning in your skin as he took the hint without question, and slowly peeled the fabric from your body. Up and over your head, brushing your hair from your eyes and you quickly tried to tame it again, but he was smiling so wide you couldn’t be bothered to care for the flyaways.

“I love you.” A dozen times over and every time the words left his lips, silk and butter on his voice, it felt like the first time; it carried goosebumps prickling on your skin and shivers in your spine.

Coming back to his feet, his lips touched the hill of your breast, forcing your eyes to flutter shut. Though, when his tongue flattened, and the warmth of his mouth trailed down to your sternum, you gasped.

He grinned against your skin, knowing exactly what he was doing to you.

“James,” you tried, warning him to stop his teasing, but he hushed you.

“Shh, sweetheart, I’m not done.” His hands snaked up along the indent of your spine, over curves and edges, until his fingers touched the clasp at the back of your bra. His forehead rested on yours, a slight look to your eyes for approval, and with your nod, he swiftly released the clasps.

The material slipped down from your shoulders, straps hanging loosely down by your elbows and he slowly pulled the cushion away from your chest. It fell to the floor and the slight chill of his apartment pebbled at your nipples.

You moved to cover yourself, in the cold and the flush of embarrassment as his eyes had yet to leave your breasts, but there was something about the way he was looking at you; like you weren’t a prize to be won or a stake to claim. You were something of beauty, of astonishment, and the disbelief in his eyes, the genuine awe, allowed your arms to rest at your sides, leaving yourself open and vulnerable to him because for once, you trusted a man to keep you safe.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, fingers trailing around at your hips as he leaned forward to kiss your neck. His lips lowly peppering kisses down your collarbone, over your heartbeat, until he kissed the valley of your breasts. Hands snaked up into his hair, a slight gasp, as his tongue touched the hardened bud.

“I love you,” he whispered, heat of his breath against your breast and he wrapped his lips around the bud. Tongue swirling in gentle circles, teeth grazing ever so slightly over the sensitive peak, though never once in pain. You gasped, digging your nails to his hair and arching your back to the kitchen table.

His hands were everywhere; holding you still, caressing down your waist, anchoring you to the ground while his mouth pushed you high above the clouds.

He moved to the other breast, his right hand coming up to gently massage where his lips could not, a thumb brushing over the nipple, still wet and aching from where he’d left you.

“James,” you whined, a dull ache between your legs and you squeezed your thighs together in refuge. Your hands left his hair and he only smiled in response, sucking harder on the bud and pulling another shaky breath from your lips. Fingers gripped in tight to the edge of his shift, just above his shoulder blades, and you started to tug. “Off. Take this off.”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.” He bent down, let you tug the material up and over his head, discarding it to the floor next to your own. In the moment he tried to lean into you again, to pick up where he’d left off as if going even a moment without touching you – kissing you – was pain within itself, you spotted a faint discoloration on his his chest, one that stilled you in an instant.

“Oh God,” you gasped, a hand pressing to his shoulder to keep him where he stood. There was a heaviness in your voice as your fingers grazed over the raised, light pink edges of scars littering his chest, carving over his shoulders.

He paused, watching you nervously, the playfulness fallen from his face in favor of bated breaths and tension in his jaw.

Fingertips brushed over a particularly prominent one under his ribs, two inches wide, dark in color, like it had healed over a few times. It sat between his muscles, the dip between hardened lines of his stomach, and he shivered under the touch.

“Trafficker in New Orleans,” he said simply, voice low, a thick swallow. “I told you I’ve survived worse than a few punches.”

“You were shot,” you exhaled, hands shaking over the scars and he quickly gathered them in his own, kissing sweetly at your fingers.

“It was a long time ago, love. I’m alright.”

It looked years healed over, like maybe he’d opened the stitches a few too many times because he couldn’t simply sit still and listen to the doctor’s orders. It sounded like him to do such a foolish thing. Too impatient to care for himself when there was work to be done.

“Y/n,” he called gently. “Sweetheart, come back to me.”

Blinking a few times, you found yourself caught up in stormy blue. He smiled sweetly at you, kissing at your hands nestled gingerly within his own.

“I guess I forgot that your job is still as dangerous as it was yesterday,” you admitted, eyes darting to the ground. “But it’s worse than that, isn’t it? Being undercover where you are… it’s more dangerous than just being connected to Hydra.”

“It is,” he confirmed, slow and steady. He had no interest in lying to you anymore, that much you could tell by how easily he replied. There was no hesitation, no pause. His breath was warm over your fingers. “But we’re almost at the end of it. Just one more month. Until the shipment comes in. Then, we’re out.”

“I don’t know if I can last that long,” you confessed quietly and James quickly wrapped you tight into his arms. Chest to chest; skin to skin, and his arms enveloped you close. Hands trailing down the bare of your back, your cheek pressed to his heart.

“You can,” he said, the vibrations of his voice purring against your ear. “I’ll be there with you. You and me, love. I’ve got you.”

Tears blinked over your lashes, touching the skin of his chest. “I’m scared for you.”

“Hey,” he cooed, gingerly pulling you away just enough to see you face. He frowned at the redness in your eyes, the reflection of tears on your cheeks. A thumb brushed up over your cheekbones, carefully sweeping under your eye. “Nothing’s gonna happen to me, okay? I’m good at what I do. I’ve been on dozens of assignments like this and even when shit hits the fan, I still come out on top. I’m still the one walking topside while the bad guys are rotting in jail.”

“But Brock—”

“—doesn’t suspect a thing,” James sighed. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Just let me take care of you tonight, sweetheart; forget about all that waits for us tomorrow. Let me love you.”

There was so much on your mind; images of what Brock might do if he were to ever discover James’ identity, questions of how you were going to spend a month with the knowledge that could get him killed and lie to a master manipulator, fear that you might be the very reason it all comes crashing down.

Your heart rate started to beat a little faster, breaths come in a little quicker, but you felt a slight tug on your hand that pulled you out from under the water.

“Come with me,” James asked, gesturing to the door at the edge of the living room. He had that beautifully sweet smile on his face, one that was exceptionally light and barely even curved the edges of his lips but it lit up bright in his eyes.

You nodded, following him as he guided you through the door. It was dark inside, walls baron white and he flicked the switch to a small lamp in the far corner of the room. It cast a light orange glow over the room, almost like the glow of a dim fire on the edge of extinction. It was just enough to see him; the curves and lines of his muscles and the slight dishevel of his hair.

“It’s just you and me tonight,” he said, gently sweeping your hair away from your shoulder and as his lips touched down along your collarbone. Wet and warm, tracing the bone to your neck. “There’s nothing else. It’s just you and me.”

You nodded, lost in the feeling of his tongue trailing your skin, sucking sweetly at the crevice of your neck until a sigh left you, one that ached deep between your legs. He must have noticed or perhaps it was the way you gripped at his hair or clenched your legs, but James carefully ushered you to the bed, helping you to lay down on your back as he hovered over you. His lips didn’t leave your body for even a second.

His hand trailed down along your stomach, finger tips dancing around the waistline of your pants, and he paused. No question needed to be asked, but one he sought an answer for anyway, and you reached down to unbutton the clasp yourself, slowly wiggling the jeans down your hips and kicking them off the edge of the bed.

A hunger grew in his eyes as he began crawling down your body, peppering kissing along the way; your neck, your breast, stomach, hipbone, until the warmth of his tongue touched over the fabric of your underwear.

“We’ve waited long enough,” you whined, simply wanting him and you were certain you were aching and wet enough from the tension alone. You could feel the gathering pool between your legs, the shift of it when you moved your thighs, the dampness of the fabric.

“There’s always time for this,” he purred and he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your clothed core.

You gasped, hands quickly gathering in his hair, yanking and pulling, though it only seemed to make him laugh. He likely imagined you were just sensitive. It had been almost eight months since you allowed Brock to touch you, though even in his best efforts it was never like this. He was a selfish lover, using your body for his own desire.

The truth was, a man had never kissed you there before, over or under the material covering the most vulnerable, most sensitive parts of you, and James was one that seemed to revel in the privilege of it. He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties, a quick look up to you in wait, and with your nod, he slid them down your legs, discarding them with your jeans.

In the cool air of his bedroom, you tried to squeeze your legs closed, but strong hands curled along the insides of your thighs, holding you open and expose. Fingers dug into the soft skin of your legs and though you strained against him, there was give, enough that you could have overpowered him if you really wanted to.

“Easy, love,” James mewled, lips grazing over your inner thigh, slowly skimming up along your curves until the heat of his breath touched your core and a jolt rocked through you. He chuckled, deep and low, and the vibrations of it trembled through you.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, kissing sweetly at the very edge of your leg, right along the curve, and he moaned when your nails dug into his hair. Your eyes fluttered shut just at the sound, the way he rutted against the mattress, his arms snaking around your thighs and caging himself to you.

“I love you,” he said again, teasingly, as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the very place you’d been aching from, clenching around air in anticipation, and your free hand wrapped tight to the bedpost behind you.

“Shit, James, I—” You couldn’t find words, couldn’t string more than a few together because suddenly, his tongue licked a long stripe through your folds, lapping up the wetness and swirling it around your clit with the tip of his tongue. You gasped as he sucked the bundle of nerves between his lips, sliding two fingers easily inside of you and stroked at your walls.

You could feel his grin against you, the satisfaction of you withering and whining under him. His hips jutted along the bed with every gasp he pulled from you, with every pump of his fingers, and lick of your clit. You’d never known a man to enjoy this the way he did, to find his pleasure in your own.

It was too much. It wasn’t enough. It was heaven.

“Ja—” you bit down on your tongue, your walls clenching at his fingers and he tongue didn’t let up for a second. Your hips moved against his hand, riding him, seeking more because his fingers just weren’t enough.

The peak found you before you were ready for it and you cried out, hips chasing at his fingers as he held you down, sucking furiously at your clit, until the gaze started to subside. A warmth spread through you, limbs heavy and tired, and you’d only come once.

“Come here,” you gasped, tugging gently on his hair as he looked up at you, cheek resting on your thigh, content to stay between your legs for an eternity.

He grinned, slowly crawling back up to you, kissing cervices of your body along the way; the curves that you hid under layers of sweatshirts, the parts of your body that felt used and put on display for a man you despised, now reveled, adored, by a man you so desperately loved.

“Hi.”

You laughed, kissing him on the lips, tasting the tanginess on his tongue. “Hi.”

There was a boyish look on his face, one of a playful kind of awe. “I love you.”

“Yes, I suspect you do,” you teased, smiling up at him. Your hands trailed down his chest, down past his scars, to his jeans where you started to fumble with the clasp. “Show me some more, won’t you?”

“Show you a lot more than that, sweetheart,” James winked, leaning back onto his knees. He straddled over your waist, slowly unbuckling the waist of his jeans. He was teasing you, grinning wildly as he watched the impatience form on your features and you sat up, sliding your fingers between his jeans and his hips, and tugged.

“Need you,” you murmured, pulling down just enough, but paused to let him take the step to fully show himself to you. You looked up at him, wide eyed and eager, chest panting a little, still high from the dull ache between your legs.

“I know, love,” James said sweetly. He pushed himself off of you and quickly removed his jeans, his boxers sliding down along with them. When he stood again, adoringly beautiful kind of smile on his face, he didn’t seem to mind when your eyes lingered downward.

Thick and heavy between his legs, standing against him almost painfully hard, with a drip of precum gathering at his slit. He stepped towards you and you watched how it jolted with his movements. Slowly, James crawled back over you, nestling between your legs as his cock brushed at your slit.

“Wanted you for so long,” he whispered, pained in his voice as he tucked his nose to the crook of your neck. “Loved you for so long.”

“I’m here,” you sighed as a hand slipped up into his hair scratching at his scalp, the other running along his back, tracing over hardened scars and exit wounds, the line of his spine. You pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m yours, honey. I’m yours.”

His cock brushed along your core, sweeping over your clit and drawing a moan from you. James shivered, a tremble chasing up his spine as he kissed along your jaw, slowly finding his way back to your lips. You brushed the hair from his eyes, meeting ocean blue for a moment under parted lips, and he set his forehead to yours.

His cock edged at your entrance, tip pressing between your folds and into your cunt. You took a breath in and before your exhale, he slid deep into you in one smooth push. He stretched at your walls, a slight ache you had expected quickly melding into a burning desire.

“Move,” you gasped, barely able to get anything else out.

James slowly pulled his hips back, enough so his tip just barely left you before he sank back in. Hot breaths on your neck and he rutted his hips again. The tension of it, the pressure of his width, the touch of his pelvis to your clit; it was like fire and flames, the clearest water, it was refuge and salvation.

Arms wrapped at his shoulders, his chest flush to yours, you lifted your legs, heels pressing to the backs of his thighs to urge him forward with every thrust. All you could take from him, every inch, every touch, every gasp, you wanted it – craved it.

This man, this beautifully selfless man, who volunteered his life to live in the shadows of his own name, to spend each day behind enemy lines at the right hand of the country’s most vile criminals, who managed to help you find pieces of yourself again. He brought hope back into your life. And love.

“Ah-ah, James… I’m—I’m close,” you whimpered, nose scratching along the rough bristles of his beard.

You could hear his heavy pants, the low hums of a moan in his voice, and he snaked a hand between you. His fingers touched your clit, circling gently at first before picking up in pace and pressing down, the pressure pushing you closer to the edge.

“Let go, sweetheart,” he whispered breathily, kissing sweetly, almost innocently, to your cheek. “I’m—I’m right behind you. Let go, love.”

Losing rhythm, his hips chasing his own release as your walls clenched around him, impossibly tight, and your nails dug into his shoulders as you touched cliffs. Running to the drop off, a free fall into the open sky to only clouds and heaven below, you jumped.

Legs gripped tight around him, arms trembling as you held onto him, rocking through the high pulsing down at your core and sweeping through you. James’ breaths were labored, uneven, as he held himself up on the slight shake of his forearms caged around you.

Then, as you leaned up to kiss tenderly at his neck, he released inside of you. A few slow, drawn out thrusts before he stilled, collapsing in his haze and sinking you to the mattress. Full, wet. You gently ran your fingers through his hair as he caught his breath again.

“I’d like to be able to call out your actual name, you know,” you teased, light and airy and cheeks flushed as he slowly raised his head from your chest.

His lips were swollen red, a line of sweat on his forehead, and he chuckled. “I told you James is my name.”

“Not the name you want me to know you as,” you added, remembering well what he’d said in the warehouse.

He nodded. “Soon, sweetheart. I can wait.”

“Not sure I can,” you shrugged playfully, looking away from him out to the window of his apartment to the stars littering the sky and James started to laugh.

“Let me keep loving you like that and you might just test my patience.”

“Maybe that’s my goal.”

He laughed again and you swore it was the most beautiful sound you’d ever hear. You could have spent forever like that, held under his weight, pressed to cotton sheets that smelled of him, full between your legs of the man you so adored.

But he slipped from you, gone before you were ready, and you whined as he stood from the bed. He chuckled at your reaction, bending down to kiss your forehead before he disappeared to the bathroom. The running water of the faucet carried into the bedroom and you settled against the mattress until he returned; the remnants of his release sticky along your inner thighs.

When he returned, he held a washcloth in his hand, warm as he aired it out and steam filtered around it. He touched it to his face first, testing the temperature, before he slowly bent down and ran it along your leg, almost teasingly, until he tenderly wiped along your thighs and pressed it to your center. You sighed, eyes fluttering shut from the lingering sensitivity, and he gingerly cleaned himself from you.

When he was done, he discarded the cloth back to the bathroom with a quick throw and settled in the bed beside you. He held out an arm, giving you space to curl up against him, cheek pressed to his chest, arm draped over his stomach, fingers tracing over a faded scar along his shoulder he told you was from a bad encounter with a slumlord in Chicago.

It was a dream to hold him like this; to be so close you touched every part of him, to be free enough to say the words as they came to your mind, to not have a filter on each movement, to feel safe.

“I’ll have to take you back soon, you know,” James said reluctantly after some time. You felt a kiss press to the crown of your head.

Your heart sank, knowing he was right, that the sun would be up soon and your husband would inevitably return from the ‘business venture’ downtown he’d taken a side trip on following his meeting at the Chinese restaurant.

“Just let me hold you a little while longer, won’t you?” you asked, trying to hold back the lump in your throat, the impeding reality that would come for you soon enough.

“Anything you want, sweetheart,” James sighed, his breath warm against the bare of your skin. It left goosebumps in its wake. “Within these walls, I am completely and entirely yours.”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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brandyllyn · 4 years ago

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War makes thieves, and peace hangs them (pt2)

Told from POV of Triple Frontier characters and while it’s an OFC she is never described. Her “name” is a radio handle.

Chapter 2*: Frankie accepts an invitation to go away with the thief. The night quickly turns into the kind he thought only happened in porn. (Frankie Morales x OFC x OFC)

Other chapters... My Masterlist

Word count: 1759. Read it on AO3.

Rating: NC-17 (Explicit) fingering. oral (f receiving). light bondage play. edging. girls loving girls. light dom/sub. ballcap kink.

Frankie’s eyes dart around the small motel room. The two women were murmuring to each other behind him and he didn’t know what to do with his hands. He’d heard stories - hell, he’d watched a few of them - about these situations but he was damned if he knew what he was supposed to do.

Finally, after what felt like an interminable amount of time, he feels a hand slip into his and he turns and sees Cat smiling at him.

"Come with me," she tugs and he follows her willingly to a chair in a corner of the room. She pushes on his shoulders and he sits down with a hard thud.

"Okay, so there’s a few rules."

Frankie nods dumbly, tongue too tied up to make words.

"First, you’re here by invitation. Which means you have to do as you’re told. Agreed?"

He nods again, eyes on her face.

"Second, you keep your thoughts to yourself unless we ask you a question. Ok?"

He nods.

"And third," she leans over him until his face is practically in her breasts. He can feel the warmth of her breath on his ear. "Third, no touching. Us unless invited, and certainly not yourself."

He whines unconsciously at that but nods. Not exactly what he had hoped for but if this night turned out even half as good as it was shaping up to be he’d be jerking off to these memories until the day he died.

She moves away from him, crossing her arms under her breasts which only served to push them up. "Frankie? What are the rules?"

"No talking, no touching, do as I’m told," he repeats back to her.

Teresa was back in the room now, sliding a hand around Cat’s waist. "Such a good little boy he is," she murmurs into the other woman’s ear.

Cat smiles at him and presses a kiss to his forehead. When she leans back, she has his hat again, settling it over her hair. "We’ll see."

Behind her, Teresa is pulling at the cords of Cat’s halter top and Frankie is met with a view of two of the most beautiful breasts he’s ever seen. His view is quickly blocked by a pair of hands but he doesn’t mind because they’re playing with Cat’s nipples and he watches her lean into Teresa’s arms with a soft sigh.

"Oh, pretty girl," she moans, "you’re impatient."

Teresa responds by biting Cat’s shoulder and Cat arches her back. Teresa’s hands move down the other woman’s body, sliding into the front of the denim shorts. She meets Frankie’s eyes before slowly undoing the top button and lowering the zipper. Frankie’s mouth goes dry and he leans forward. Cat shoots him a look from under her lowered eyelashes even as Teresa pushes and her shorts fall to the floor. She’s bare underneath.

"Nuh uh Frankie," she purrs, lifting a foot to his chest and pushing him back. With her foot lifted like that he has a perfect view of her inner thighs, her lips, the slight shine of wetness already gathered there. He moans. "Stay," she orders and he does so, unable to help the warm flush when she praises him. "Good boy."

She turns then, pushing Teresa back toward the bed, nude except for his hat. The two women whisper to each other and then Cat moves to recline on the bed, propping herself up on one elbow while watching Teresa with a small smile.

Teresa starts to sway, listening to some song only she can hear, and then she strips for them. There is no other way to put it. She alternates giving him and Cat soft looks, pulling off each piece of her clothing one at a time. He wasn’t… fuck was this a thing people did? He wasn’t a virgin, he’d been around the block a few times. Hell he’d even nearly been married once. It just hadn’t occurred to him that nights like tonight actually existed in anything other than 'Letters to Penthouse’.

And then Teresa is kneeling on the bed facing him with her thighs spread and Cat is behind her and the brim of his hat is caressing Teresa’s neck and he’ll never be able to wear it again without thinking of this moment. But there are hands, hands sliding down Teresa’s body to bury themselves between her thighs and Teresa is moaning and Cat looks up and straight into his soul.

No touching, he reminds himself even as he watches Cat licking soft golden skin. No touching, he repeats even as Cat’s hand shifts and he can tell she’s pushed fingers inside of the other woman. His hands are gripping his knees so hard his knuckles are white.

For a moment Frankie is convinced he’s imagining things when he sees Cat crook a finger at him. But then he sees that both women are looking at him, Teresa’s tongue darting out to wet her lower lip, and he stumbles out of his chair towards the bed. They reach for him at the same time and he falls back against the headboard.

Cat shoots him a hard look and he freezes in the act of reaching for them. She gently taps the inside of his thigh and he spreads his legs, watching as she settles Teresa back against his chest. Her ass pressed to his aching cock.

"You’re going to hold poor little Teresa for me, okay Frankie?" Teresa lifts her arms over her head, reaching over Frankie and he follows their direction, reaching up and wrapping his hands around her wrists, his arms holding hers down. Her head is resting on his shoulder and he can see down, down the length of her body to where Cat is kneeling with her hands on Teresa’s thighs.

"You have her?" Cat asks and Frankie nods in return, lips parted. And then he watches as she lays down and then it’s just his hat moving over the woman’s thighs. He can feel Teresa’s body twist, her ass rocking against him when she squirms. Cat uses her hands to spread the other woman’s thighs wide and pushes her feet over Frankie’s calves so his legs are holding her open. Cat looks up at him, for just a moment catching his eye… and she winks. It’s all the warning Frankie gets before she dips her head lower and drags the bill of his ball cap through Teresa’s cunt.

Frankie’s whole body convulses and he feels himself throbbing - dangerously close to coming in his pants. In his arms, Teresa cries out. Cat does it again and this time Frankie can see the dark, wet spot on his cap. The thin line of wetness that stretched from the brim back to Teresa. "Fuck," the curse falls from his mouth without conscious thought and he adjusts his grip on Teresa to hold the writhing woman even tighter.

Cat laughs, mouth buried in Teresa’s cunt. From this point of view it’s not hard to imagine her mouth on him instead, that she’s got his cock so far down her throat her nose is pressed to his stomach. He groans, arching his hips which only causes him to push Teresa into Cat’s tongue. The women make their own sounds of pleasure at that and he does it again. His hat was shadowing the work Cat was doing, but his brain fills in the gaps.

Suddenly, he feels a slight pressure, a resistance to the movement of his hips, and can see that it’s Cat, holding Teresa’s hip down which in turn is forcing his hips to stop their rolling motion. "Frankie," Cat gently scolds, "what were the rules?"

Frankie curses, mind entirely blank. "No talking, no touching, do as-"

"You’re told," she finishes for him, coming up on her knees. She leans forward and licks Teresa’s neck and the woman in his arms makes a high keening noise. "I would hate for Teresa to not get what she wants because you can’t behave."

"Please Frankie," Teresa begs and Frankie grunts, adjusting his hands on her wrists. His eyes shut for a moment before he gives Cat a nod.

"Good," she purrs, running a finger where his neck and Teresa’s press together and they both shiver. Then she lifts her hands and turns his ball cap around. This time, when she fucks Teresa with her tongue he can see it, see the long licks, the way the hand she has on Teresa’s hip presses her down while Cat’s thumb flicks gently over her clit. See Cat’s other hand come up and thrust two fingers inside Teresa.

He can’t take his eyes off of it. Wouldn’t even if you paid him a million dollars. The view… the woman in his arms, her breasts heaving, nipples puckered. Her ass pressed to him. Her thighs wrapped around Cat’s head. Fuck, he’d pay a million to be able to do this.

And then Teresa comes. Her back arches off of him and he actually has to work to keep holding her arms above their heads. He wants to talk to her, wants to tell her how beautiful she is, but the rules were clear and instead he presses his cheek into her neck and just feels her come apart in his arms.

Cat moves up, straddling both him and Teresa and kissing her softly. He can feel hands on his and he lets Teresa go, sliding his hands down her arms as they lower and wrap around Cat. His own fingers twitch, aching to touch either of them, but he settles his hands on the bed instead, clenching the comforter in his fists. The two women kiss and he watches them, noting the differences between their kisses and the one’s he’s experienced. How soft it looks. How often they pause and gently lick at each other.

Soon, Teresa is leaning forward, out of his embrace and he doesn’t follow, stays still, waiting for his next instruction. Cat looks at him over Teresa’s shoulder and smiles.

"Thank you for your service soldier." She lifts the cap from her head and places it on his. "I think I can take it from here." She turns Teresa, laying her on the bed and waves a hand in his direction. He moves slowly off the bed. "I’ll see you tomorrow," she calls after him.

He looks back one final time. At the two women stretched out on the bed together, taking a mental picture of it before he opens the door and steps out into the night.

Pt3

#frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #frankie morales x ofc #writing

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my-unmanageable-mischief · 4 years ago

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Inexplicable Part 1

Draco Malfoy x Reader x Harry Potter love triangle

“Friendships in childhood are usually a matter of chance, whereas in adolescence they are most often a matter of choice.” David Elkind

Chance. Something you can give, and something you can take. Your mother had always told you to give people chances, you never know what may have happened. She taught you to take chances, that if you lived in a bubble of comfort forever you would never grow. She was a good woman. You had given Draco Malfoy many chances over the 11 years you’d known him- you’re whole life. When he’d hurt your feelings as a child, you would cry, and then you would give him another chance. You also took chances with Draco. Small ones, sneaking off your parent’s grounds to go to the park, to big ones; like leaving for Hogwarts together on a cloudy morning on the first of September.

You stood in the grand entrance to the great hall, freezing from the dramatic boat ride over. Draco stood beside you, lanky and confident. You wished you were as self-assured as him often, wishing you had the same sense of self he possessed. Then he was speaking, and it wasn’t to you but a meeker-looking boy with a messy crop of black hair and crooked glasses.

“The rumors are true then, Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts,” You looked at the boy. This was the mythical boy who killed the darkest wizard in recent history? He was just a boy, hair damp from the rain outside. You wondered if he felt as young as he looked. “I’m Draco Malfoy,” Draco extended his hand, and you watched curiously. The boy eyes the hand suspiciously and Draco continued, not faltering, “I trust you wish to be in Slytherin? The best house.” Harry’s eyes narrowed and your lips turned downwards slightly. He was being a git. The tall redheaded boy beside Harry snorted behind his hand and Draco turned to him, eyes biting. “Well, no question on who you are? Red hair, hand me down robes? Obviously a Weasley,”

“Draco,” You spoke before either of the other boys could react, his head turned to you as if remembering you were there. You held his gaze, shaking your head at him, he merely smirked.

“My friend here might have better social graces than I, but let me give you a word of advice Potter, There are some wizards worth your time, and some who are not, best associate yourself with the right sort,” Draco puffed his own chest out proudly, and you rolled your eyes at the display, chancing a glance at the Weasley boy and Potter, who both seemed as put off as you felt. Draco extended his hand again; Harry ignored it.

“I think I can tell the right sort for myself, thanks,” Draco scoffed, glaring down at the boy, and he didn’t look so meek anymore. He held Draco’s gaze with his own steady one, the boys had a silent exchange before Draco huffed and turned, taking your arm and dragging you with him.

“You didn’t need to do that.” You spoke as you allowed him to guide you away to wait in a different area- away from the boy who lived.

“Oh don’t tell me you’re cross at me now,” He rolled his eyes, and you crossed your arms, shaking your head.

“No, I’m just saying-”

“Students! Follow me!” A voice rang out clear above the chatter, and it immediately died down. The large group formed two organized lines and followed the stern professor into the great hall, the first time any of you had seen it. Magical. It felt cliché, and obvious, but that was the only word you could muster. Candles hung in the sky, twinkling and flickering like the stars that were above them. The ceiling swirled with the harsh weather outside, but in the great hall, it was warm and cozy. Four long tables were headed by another large table, all five full. Ghosts milled about the room and banners hung from the ceiling proudly. Each table donning its own crest, and the staff table displaying the Hogwarts crest.

“Wow,” You found yourself whispering, Draco silently nodding beside you. For a moment your past annoyance with him was gone, replaced solely by awe. Names began being called, no particular order, keeping the waiting students on their toes. Every time a student was sorted their new house would cheer excitedly for their addition. You watched the Weasley boy, whose first name was Ron, get sorted into Gryffindor, him grinning proudly.

“Draco Malfoy,” Finally his name was called, and he looked at you with a wide smirk on his lips, you smiled back nodding your head encouragingly. The hair barely grazed his head before it shouted Slytherin to the group, the table to the far right clapping happily. Draco met your eye and nodded once more before going to join the table. A few names passed and Harry Potter was called. There was a decent pause as the hat sat on his head, and everyone waited. Finally, it shouted Gryffindor, and you weren’t surprised. The house of the brave. Directly after Harry was called, your name rang out, making you tense. You nodded, this time to yourself, and went up, sitting on the stool. The hat came down over your eyes, and you chanted to yourself silently.

‘Slytherin, Slytherin, Slytherin,’

‘Slytherin aye? Let me see let me see, possible, but not what I would have chosen,’

‘What?’ Your eyes opened inside the hat, and you were met with darkness, it talked?

‘No no, so much potential elsewhere, I would much rather prefer Gryffindor,’

‘Gryffindor?’ You felt yourself panicking, hands clenching and unclenching, ‘No, no,’

‘No? Are you sure?’

‘I’m, no, I don’t know, my friends’ Your mother’s voice sounded in your ear nearly as clearly as the caps. Telling you to take a chance. To give it a chance. To be brave. Brave.

‘If you’re sure-’

‘Wait!’ Silence for a moment, your thoughts were whirling, finally, the hat spoke again.

‘That’s what I thought. Better be-’

“Gryffindor!” You felt sick as the hat was lifted from your head. Your vision was blurry and the sudden plunging into the light made your head spin, you looked towards the table on the far right, and saw Draco. He looked at you like he had never truly seen you before. His face was open, shocked, and then it closed, and he sneered. You got off the stool, your legs leading you to the table to the far right. It felt symbolic and ironic, and you hated it. You sat down across from a girl with bushy brown hair and smiled nervously, she smiled back. You were a Gryffindor. Merlin, what would your father think?

Negative thoughts and all your worries were pushed away when the table in front of you was suddenly brimming with food. Anything you would hope to eat appeared and everyone around you tucked in happily. Two boys who looked identical to each other and incredibly similar to Ron were entertaining the first years with wild stories of the castle, and you found yourself hanging onto every word.

“Oooooo yes, the forbidden forest-”

“How could we forget-”

“Never go there little firsties-”

“Unless you wish to perish!” You grinned, shaking your head and laughing. One of them saw and pointed towards you.

“Ah! She laughs!” You smirked, rolling your eyes good-natured.

“It’s just a forest, next to a school, how dangerous can it be?”

“I head there are centaurs there, and they’ll tie you to trees and eat you,” Ron replied eyes wide and head bobbing eagerly, you scoffed.

“Centaurs don’t eat people, Ron,” You assured, “But they might string you up,” Ron’s eyes widened even further and both twins let out a bark of laughter at your words. One reached part Ron and Harry and offered you their hand.

“I’m Fred, this is George,” He motioned to his twin.

“Y/N,” You took the hand, smiling back.

“You were with Malfoy,” Harry commented, eyeing you slightly, you felt heat rise to your face, and you nodded slightly.

“I was,”

“Are you guys mates?” Ron asked around a mouth full of food. You glanced across the room to the boy in question. He was already looking at you, and when you caught his eye he glared and looked away quickly, you frowned.

“We were.”

Back in your common room that night you found all your belongings sitting nearly at the edge of a four-poster bed. The girl from dinner, Hermione, as you learned, was directly next to you.

“It’s wonderful isn’t it?” She asked excitedly and you smiled, nodding as you searched for a pair of pajamas.

“Yes, it’s great to finally be here.” You agreed, and she bounced slightly on her bed, bubbling over with joy.

“How long have you known you were a witch?” You faltered, looking at the girl.

“I’ve always known,” She looked at you with wide eyes before grinning.

“You have to tell me everything! I have so much to catch up on, I need to find the library tomorrow and get some books, do you want to come?”

“Are you... muggle-born?” You asked, surprised. You had never met anyone before who was actually muggle-born. Not only that, but you thought you would be able to tell.

“That’s non-magic born, right? I am.” You nodded slowly, finally finding a pair of sleep pants and a t-shirt towards the bottom of your trunk. You went to your bed, one hand on your curtains, she was looking at you expectantly. You smiled.

“Sure, we can find the library after lessons tomorrow,”

“Wonderful,”

“Goodnight Hermione,”

“Goodnight, Y/N!” With that, you pulled your curtains shut tight. You changed quickly and climbed into bed before locating your journal and quill in the nightstand beside your bed. You tried to write everything you felt all day. The excitement, the fear, the disappointment, and the excitement again. When you had put down all your words you replaced the book and pulled your duvet down, sliding in. For a while you stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep. You were thinking about Draco. He couldn’t possibly stay mad at you forever, could he? You’d need to find him and talk to him sometime soon. Eventually, you drifted off, ready to start your new life at Hogwarts the following morning. Ready to take a chance.

#Harry Potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #draco malloy x reader #Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x gryffindor

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patcaps · 4 years ago

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[fic preview] In These Troubled Waters of Unavoidable Grief

Here’s a preview of my new standalone oneshot fic. It’s just a preview containing the setup/prologue, and does not delve into the themes in the note below.

[Note: This full fic will be rated M for minor character death and heavy, detailed themes of death, loss, grief, and mourning. If you’re sensitive to those themes or are not age-appropriate, don’t read the full fic when it’s posted to Ao3.]

Pairings: PatCap (established relationship) Characters: Pat, the Captain, Alison, Robin, Kitty, Humphrey, Julian, with brief appearances from Morris, Daley, Daley’s girlfriend and baby Pat Summary: It’s Pat’s death day once again, but it’s the first one since he died that Carol hasn’t turned up. It was always going to happen one day, but it doesn’t make it any more bearable. He must rely on the ghosts closest to him more than ever before as he receives the devastating news.

Listen to this fic’s mini playlist on Spotify

The day was always going to come. It’s not like Pat didn’t know that.

It was his death day, three years since the infamous one that brought with it the realisation of his wife’s affair. It was also the one that introduced his grandson, proving that being a ghost was nothing if not the constant attempt to take the good with the bad.

“He’ll be even bigger than last time. He’s growing up so fast,” Pat gushed from his spot at the window. He watched and waited for the car to arrive as he always did, eager to run out of the door the second he heard wheels on gravel so he could spend those precious few minutes with his family.

There was a chuckle from beside him, then a warm arm appeared around his waist. “Children tend to do that,” the Captain said, surveying the driveway with him. “What time are we expecting them, then?”

Pat leaned into him with a private smile. “Soon,” Pat said, nudging the Captain affectionately when he grumbled at the vague answer. “God, Cap, he’ll be starting nursery soon. Imagine that. I wonder if he’ll join the Scouts, too? Daley did.”

The Captain raised an eyebrow and idly rubbed Pat’s side with his palm, easing some of the giddy anticipation Pat felt. “Perhaps Alison could ask about that for you? Daley might very well want Pat to follow in both of your footsteps.”

“Maybe,” Pat said, voice brimming with love. “I hope so. I’d be so happy.”

“Oh! Is today the day, Pat?” Kitty asked, appearing beside them both with her hands clutched under her chin. She beamed out of the window before aiming that bright smile at them both. “Will they be bringing the baby again?”

“He’s not baby anymore,” Robin corrected from the chess table.

Alison wandered into the room then, swinging the front door keys around one of her fingers. “Yeah, he’s a toddler now, Kitty.”

Kitty’s smile didn’t falter. “That’s still a kind of baby, though, isn’t it?”

“D’you think one of you could give me a lift when they arrive? I’d love to see the baby,” Humphrey called from the floor, and Kitty wasted no time in skipping over and picking him up. “Thanking you kindly.”

Pat laughed to himself where he was still held against the Captain, his temple pressed to the soft wool of his tunic. Things were going so well between them, love found again where they never knew it could be, and Pat didn’t think could ever tire of the small touches and casual intimacy they shared. It had taken the Captain a while to reach that point, true, but Pat would hold patience in spades if it meant he got to keep him.

“You never know, Pat, he might recognise you,” Julian commented idly where he sat opposite Robin.

That caused Pat’s head to lift. His eyes were wide and hopeful as he twisted to look first at the Captain, then to the others. “Blimey, do you reckon? I mean, he hasn’t so far.”

“It’s possible; we’ve seen it before,” the Captain said, treading carefully. “Don’t set your heart on it too hard, though.”

Kitty frowned. “You don’t have to spoil it,” she said.

“No, Cap’s right, Kitty,” Pat assuaged. “Maybe some bairns just can’t see us, or maybe it happens at different stages. We don’t really know, but I don’t want to be disappointed if it never happens.” He received a gentle squeeze in response, to which Pat smiled and leant up to kiss the Captain briefly on the lips.

They missed how Kitty delighted at the display, and how Alison’s nose wrinkled up with a smile. The change to their status hadn’t at all made ripples in the group like they’d once feared it might. There was some surprise, but any raised eyebrows had been swiftly quashed by their combined hard stares. After that, they’d continued on relatively as normal - as normal as they could get for a group of ghosts stuck in a house together.

Pat liked the change; it was good, and they were happier than they’d been in decades. He especially liked how relaxed the Captain was those days. Pat loved how frequent his laughter had become, his smiles and his joy more freely given. He had less to prove and the heaviness he had carried alone was finally shared, walking the grounds and the halls with a lightness he’d never really known.

It filled Pat with such intense love and pride, so much that he let his head fall back to the Captain’s chest with a soft sigh. His eyes slipped shut. The Captain glanced down at him, and Pat didn’t need to see his subtle, pleased smile to know it was there. A moment later, he felt the Captain’s chin rest on his head.

“Oh, that’ll be them,” Alison said with a smile when the sound of the car engine came into earshot. She hurried off to unlock the door.

Pat watched as she stepped outside, waiting on the driveway as the large car pulled in to park. Alison waved them over as the family climbed out one by one: Morris, Daley, and Daley’s girlfriend with little Pat.

Everyone except Carol.

“Where’s Carol?” Pat wondered aloud with a frown. There hadn’t been a single year she’d missed a visit. A million possibilities ran through Pat’s mind as he watched Alison make conversation with Morris. Perhaps Carol was ill? Maybe she had the flu and would make another trip when she felt better. It was probably something like that, but even so, some intuitive pit of dread kept him rooted to the Captain’s side.

The Captain hummed above him. “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.”

Kitty remained where she was, Humphrey’s head still cradled in her arms, and Robin and Julian joined them at the window. They all looked on through the glass, watching and waiting as Alison’s face became more and more subdued and sympathetic as Morris and Daley alternated in speaking.

That did not bode well. Pat’s heart sank further and his foot began to tap anxiously on the floor. The Captain rubbed his side again but it did little to ease the knot that had formed in his gut.

Alison nodded, said a few more words, and then the family set off to the tree stump to pay their yearly respects.

Pat waited with bated breath as Alison made her way back inside, and when she stepped back into the room with them, she could hardly meet Pat’s eyes.

“Where’s Carol?” Pat asked again, more urgently that time. He left the Captain’s side and took a stride closer to her but then he stopped himself again. “What’s happened? Something’s happened, hasn’t it?”

The Captain reappeared at his side. “Pat, calm down a moment—”

Pat ignored him. “Will you just tell me? Why are you looking at me like that?” He asked, sounding more frantic with each word. “Why isn’t she with them? Is she poorly?”

Alison shared a tense look with the Captain before she looked back at Pat again, and after she managed to swallow the lump in her throat, she spoke slowly and gently. “I don’t… I don’t know how to tell you this, Pat. God, I’m sorry. I really am so sorry, but Carol’s gone.”

#my fic #g: fanfic #patcap #mine

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prismatales · 4 years ago

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Through our lifetimes

Word Count: 2.7K

Bingo slot: Reincarnation

Pairings: Kirishima Eijiro x Reader

Tag/Warnings: Fluff, Slight Angst, Soulmates AU.

Synopsis: According to legends, when both soulmates turn eighteen, they start remembering their past lives together. You’ve known about that story ever since you were a small child. The question is....are you ready to meet your soulmate?

Another entry for the bingo event, hosted by the @bnhabookclub ! This time with the Reincarnation prompt! This is also a birthday present for my dear friend @pixxiesdust , who’s one of the most precious friends that I’ve ever had the chance to meet! Happy birthday Zeze! We love you!

Beta readers: @todoscript & @etegomanere

Credits for the Kirishima cap goes to @eraserhead-transparents!

There’s an old myth about soulmates. One, that only a handful of people could tell you about.

An old story your grandparents have always talked about ever since you were but a small child that was just starting to learn how to speak, let alone memorizing things.

According to the stories, when both soulmates become close to turning eighteen, they start to remember their past lives together. They’ll keep seeing glimpses of these moments in the past the closer they get to this age, and when the day finally arrives they will start to remember each and every single moment of their past lives.

How was it possible that an old couple that always showed their family nothing but unconditional love and support, was able to tell you about this old myth like it had been something that they had experienced themselves?

It was pretty simple...It was because they had experienced it themselves.

Every single summer, you’d spend it visiting that small, cozy home in the fields. It almost felt like you were living inside one of those fairytale books that your parents would always read to your younger self before going to bed.

The days would go by listening to the stories about their past lives. You’d enjoy the nice breeze of summer, accompanied by an ice-cold pitch of sweet, tangy lemonade your grandfather would happily prepare for his two favorite ladies in the world.

It was a routine deeply engraved into your memories. Two tiny hands holding a glass way too big for them, filled to the brim with the sweet drink while you sat over your grandmother’s lap. Her wrinkly fingers would always caress the top of your head softly as she kept talking, and talking, and talking about the memories of her past lives with enthusiasm.

Despite being ridden to a wheelchair, your grandmother always made an effort to help her husband in their beloved fields. She would always help out by holding this huge basket over her lap, a way to help out the man standing in front of her, who was too busy choosing the best of their crops for their daily meals.

If there was something they took pride in, it was teaching you not to be a picky eater. There was something about their crops that made them so delicious, so different from the ones that your mother would always bring home from the supermarket.

It created some precious memories for everyone in the family when they saw the pictures of a small toddler, barely learning to walk, yet she already had her tiny, chubby face buried in a tomato.

As you grew up, it became a habit to come back during summer with the happiest smile on your face while helping out, carrying that huge basket filled to the brim with the delicious crops.

And many years later, once you finally started visiting them on your own, the habit of visiting the old couple every summer never died down. Some people your age would rather go to parties during the summer, or vacation to relax somewhere else.

But not you.

Each summer break would be spent visiting that same house, enjoying the nice breeze with a glass of tangy lemonade, smiling at the old couple as they kept telling you about the stories of their past lives.

Sighing deeply, you stared at the sliced tomato in your fork. Its color is pale in comparison to the ones from your grandpa’s fields, but even if their taste doesn’t even come close, food must never go to waste, so quickly, you start eating the delicious meal.

It’s just a typical lunch; a plate of pasta laid before you, carefully served in the shape of a small spiral, covered with a fine portion of tomato sauce, a sprinkle of parmesan cheese, and basil adorning the plate as the finishing touch.

The dish came accompanied by two slices of bread, toasted to perfection with a nice touch of melted, garlic butter.

Lastly, a nice portion of salad drizzled in balsamic vinegar as a side dish that, even though it was delicious, it couldn’t come even remotely close to those hand-picked crops back at those precious, grassy fields.

The taste of the salad may be bland in comparison, but it’s the company all around you that made the meal taste way better than what it was.

After all, it’s your very first get together after graduating from UA a few months ago. And the best part? It’s all happening during your birthday.

Being surrounded by your former classmates was always a nice way to pass the day. After mentioning how this would be the first summer you’d be unable to visit your grandparents, all of your friends came up with a plan to cheer up the dejected, young woman patrolling the city with a melancholic smile.

It was expected that you would feel this way after spending years visiting the old couple in that lovely house, but you knew it was bound to happen the moment you chose to become a hero.

So the morning your birthday came up, everyone had quickly dragged you out for the day, barely giving you the chance to get ready before being taken to one of the longest outings you’ve ever experienced.

From shopping sprees to a nice restaurant for lunch, and many other kinds of activities, the day literally flew by surrounded by those that could be considered a second family.

But as much as you adored the effort they put to raise your spirits, nothing could distract you from the dreams that you kept having for the past days.

Like the one where a young woman kept sneaking out of her house at night. A beautiful dress, that judging by the intricate design and the puffiness of the skirt was from the victorian era, was carefully dragged around as she walked cautiously through the dark, empty streets. She just kept walking, occasionally turning into a different direction, until a hand shot out through an alleyway, dragging her yelping self with little effort.

As terrifying as the gesture seemed, nothing but warm laughter came out of her lips when a pair of arms wrapped themselves around her, holding her body against a firm chest.

“You’re late!” A voice exclaimed from above, resting their jaw against her head lovingly, their bodies swayed together as they enjoyed the other’s presence in their little hiding spot. “Did you have a good day?”

Pulling her head back, she looked at her lover’s face with a tender smile, wrapping her own arms around the stranger’s waist. “Much better now that I am with you.” From the way she stared at this man, the love they shared was more than obvious before they shared a soft, tender kiss.

But through your eyes, it was impossible to see what this stranger looked like because every time you had one of these dreams...there was a black blur over his face.

And of course...not all of these dreams had a happy ending.

Like that one couple, that despite trying their hardest to be together, their love became impossible the day she was betrothed to someone else in order to pay off her family’s debt. Her beloved, in a fit of heartbreak, went traveling overseas...and he was never seen again.

And then there were others, where the lovers never got a chance to meet, spending their whole lives waiting for the moment they could finally meet their special someone, just to realize, that in the end, faith had taken their loved one away before they could finally find each other.

“What do these dreams mean exactly, grandma…?” You asked this to your grandmother during a sunny day, pushing her wheelchair around the fields while she carried the same, worn-out basket in her wrinkly hands that were still full of strength. In the meantime, your grandfather was too busy picking some crops.

The moment you mentioned these strange dreams to the older woman, her face lit up with the same brilliance as that of a lighthouse in the middle of the darkest night. The basket fell out of her hands from the surprise, much to her husband’s surprise.

“Oh, my goddess! Honey! She has a soulmate! Our little girl has a soulmate!” She almost hopped out of her wheelchair from the joy. Seeing her being so excited that she almost stood up despite her legs being so frail, made the news even more exhilarating for the family.

You snapped out of the little trails of thoughts by a hand waved in front of your face. Blinking in surprise, you came face to face with a pair of red eyes and a slightly concerned face.

“Everything okay?” Kirishima asked, standing by your side while everyone else was engaged in their own conversation. “You’ve been spacing out for a while now.”

Warmth began creeping up your whole face, embarrassed about spacing out on your friends. You smiled awkwardly at the red-headed guy at your right side before giggling softly as you looked up at the vast and clear orange sky, filled with some of the fluffiest clouds you’ve ever seen as they took different shapes, some of them being cuter than others. It was amazing how fast time would pass by when you were surrounded by good company; it was already starting to get dark.

“Sorry, I was thinking about my grandma. We usually sit in the garden at this time of the day while she tells me this story.”

In the middle of your little speech, you failed to notice the way Kirishima kept staring at you fondly, knowing from past conversations at high school just how much you adored the old couple.

“You really look up to them, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do.” Looking back as everyone kept walking in their own groups after today’s outing, your attention then shifted back to the guy walking alongside you.

Who just happened to be your high school crush, but after all the hardships that occurred three years ago; such as the constant fighting against groups like The League of Villains, The Shie Hassaikai, and others. Dating became the least of your worries.

Especially now that you were on your way to become official pro-heroes, starting out first as sidekicks, of course. Your love life could probably wait...and hopefully, your future soulmate would understand…

“It’s getting pretty late, let me walk the birthday girl home!” He offered with that characteristic smile of his that could light up an entire room by itself.

“You really don’t have to!”

“I insist! What kind of guy would let a girl walk alone at night?”

Sighing in amusement, you gave in to his offer. Aftersaying goodbye to everyone else, both you and Kirishima began walking together in the direction of your small apartment.

The sky had already turned dark by the time you reached a small lake near the building.

“Hey, Kiri…Do you believe in past lives?” It was his turn to look back at the sky, stretching his hands behind his neck with eyes closing deep in thought and eyebrows half furrowed as well.

“Well...It’s not something I’d lose sleep over, but it could be interesting!” He opened a single eye and looked in your direction, the small grin together with those cheerful, red eyes could easily rival the beauty of the sunset itself. “You believe in them?”

“Well, yeah! I’ve heard so many stories about people who are able to remember their past lives, I think it would be amazing to know about ours!” He hummed quietly, nodding to himself in thought.

“What kind of stories have you heard?” He was genuinely curious. That, and seeing the joyful look on your face the moment he asked about it made it all worth it because seeing his crush happy was enough to make Kirishima equally joyful.

“Oh! This is my favorite one! According to the stories, when both soulmates turn eighteen, they see their past lives together!”

You kept explaining every detail to him, unaware of just how quiet he had become the moment you mentioned that once both soulmates turned this age, the hidden faces from their dreams, belonging to their lovers from a past life could finally be seen.

“What if they had an age difference? Say, five years?” He was starting to become more interested in the idea of these soulmates.

“Then they’ll start having the dreams once the youngest of the two also turns eighteen!”

“But what if one of them...dies before meeting each other?”

“Well...they’ll never know their soulmate...not all lives have a happy ending…”

“Oh, that’s...pretty sad.”

“Yeah, it is.” You looked back at the street, muttering softly to yourself. “Hope I can find mine, though…”

“Did you say something?”

“Ah! N-nothing important!”

After some slightly awkward silence, you finally came close to the building where you lived.

“Well...Here we are!” You stood in front of the gates. A bright smile was directed to Kirishima, who stood a few feet away, but still close enough that if he lifted his hand, it could easily brush against yours. “Would you like to come in? I have some matcha cake waiting inside!”

“You sure it’s okay?”

“Of course, silly! I’m a firm believer that birthdays must always be celebrated with cake!” He couldn’t help laughing at your enthusiasm.

But you didn’t get the chance to say another word before something flashed before your eyes. A burst of images began flashing at an overwhelming pace, different memories began coming all at once at an alarming rate that made you hunch, leaning on the gate and holding your aching head, throbbing painfully from the sudden wave of memories coming at all once.

Everything came so suddenly; all those dreams from your past lives came rushing like an avalanche.

That couple embracing each other in the darkness of the alleyway. The one that got separated because of a family dispute and the one that ran away together, everything just kept coming back.

And when they finally stopped, the very first one that you remembered stayed still before your eyes. The couple from the victorian era were embracing each other tenderly before he grabbed his lover’s face by their chin to give them one of the sweetest kisses you could ever witness.

His face was no longer hidden by shadows, and it was like a burst of colors painted this seemingly dark room filled with nothing but black and white with the brightest of shades. Like the sun itself had stepped inside that room.

Because that smile, that bright smile that could easily rival the sun...it was Kirishima’s smile.

Turning your head back slowly with eyes wide open, the first thing you noticed was that your so-called friend was hunched over, holding his head painfully before slowly opening his eyes to look at you, with the same look of absolute shock in those bright red orbs that were always full of life, despite everything he had gone through.

Neither of you moved for a solid minute and just stayed in place looking at one another before a tearful smile began appearing on your face.

“It’s you…!”

Carefully, your hands pushed against the wall for impulse, at the same time that he took a single step, before breaking into a short sprint until he reached you, taking you into a heartfelt embrace that was eagerly reciprocated.

“How did I ever get so lucky?” He whispered, voice nearly breaking from everything he felt in that moment. Neither of you had the willpower to let go, not caring about anything, or anyone else.

“All this time...all this time, you were always right in front of me.” You whimpered. “We’ve been having the same dreams for a whole year and didn’t know it!”

“You’re not going to leave this time, are you?” You nuzzled closer to him, hugging him as tightly as possible and completely afraid of losing your soulmate all over again like in those past lives.

“Never, I could never do that to you!” He kissed your temple lovingly. “Nothing will tear us apart. I promise!”

@bnha-ra @bnhabookclub @gallickingun @godtieruwu @hanniejji @mysticalite @savagetrickster @shoobirino @songsforbnha @sugacookiies @unbreakableeiji @wesparklebitch @pixxiesdust @hawks-senseis @yikerb

#bnhabookclub #bnha imagine #mha imagine #bnha imagines #mha imagines #kirishima x reader

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modern-vellichor · 4 years ago

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Grief, is a Beautiful Thing

Stage Two: Anger

Warnings: Grief!! Mentions of death, suicide. Loss of a major character. Battles with depression, silent tears, heart and gut wrenching sadness, minor smut just to keep you on your toes.

Series Masterlist

Anger; a strong feeling of annoyance, displeasure, or hostility.

Eventually, after weeks of watching the front door with a longing look in your eyes, after weeks of keeping Steve's things untouched, after weeks of waiting up at night for him, you realised, maybe, he isn't coming back. You were mad.

You were angry at Steve, angry at him for lying to you, for leaving you. You were furious at him for leaving you cold and broken and empty and thinking you were strong enough to pick yourself back up again.

You were angry at Bucky for trying. He was always there for you, calming you, telling you everything was okay, and it wasn't, it really wasnt.

You and Steve never argued, never in public anyway. God, if you could see him now, you would scream and shout and make sure he knew how wrong he was, how much you hated him right now. How could he do this to you.

You had disobeyed direct orders on a mission. Steve told you to hold back, but you saw and opportunity, and you took it, it was the right decision. Sure, you got stabbed a few times, but you got what you needed, quicker too.

"I can't believe you, Y/N. I gave you a direct order and you didn't follow it. Look at you now, you could have died"

You rolled your eyes at the love of your life, sighed, and stood up, blood trickling through your fingers clutched to your side.

"With all due respect, Captain, I did what had to be done, and it worked. So don't criticize my decisions", you only called him Captain when you were raging, when you thought he didn't even deserve the acknowledgment of a name.

"You are hurt, you went against me. I could ruin your career for that stunt"

"You wouldn't dare, don't lie to yourself"

"God, you're so fucking full of yourself, Y/N"

"excuse me?", you scoffed, eyebrows raised. Steve immediately regretted his words, uttering hurried apologies. "You know what, Cap, I am full of myself. I'm such a narcissist, such a bad person, huh. Where did our little golden boy go wrong, ending up with a good for nothing gal like me, huh?"

As if right on time, the jet had landed, so you made a grand exit, waltzing off the jet with your head held high, and tears in your eyes.

You couldn't go to your own room, not where the sheets smelled of him, not where his things sat snug next to yours. So you knocked on Bucky's door, he let you in without hesitation. He walked you to his bed, he held you as you cried, cradled you until you slept. He tucked you in under blankets that smelled like coconut, gun powder, and whiskey.

So as you lay, head buried into a pillow that smelt like Steve, tears staining soft satin, you thought about doing the exact same thing.

You picked yourself up, untangling yourself from the sheets, bare feet padding to the elevator. Straight to Bucky's door.

knock knock knock. gentle and soft, barely audible.

"doll?", he was half asleep in his doorway.

"hey, buck", you muttered, smiling sadly.

"what's up?"

"I can't sleep in there, Bucky. I can't do it. I swear to god, hes everywhere", you sobbed.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his room, into his bed. For once, you welcomed the cooing and the soft touches. You appreciated the way he cradled your face in his hands as you cried, catching tears with his thumbs as he watched you fall apart. He was holding you together, his legs tangled with yours, his lips uttering sweet redemption into your hair, hands softly drawing circles on your back.

You leaned into him, wrapping your arms around him in return, you pressed your face into his neck, breathing him in, soaking him up. This was what you need right now, and you fell asleep bathed in the warmth of his bare soul.

Bucky's eyes opened to you making your way out of his room. He sighed, hands reached out to you, lazily.

"why are you up so early, doll?", he checked the clock. 05:57am.

"I gotta work"

"you really gotta take some time off, you're gonna work yourself to death, especially in your form"

You gave him a small smile, "I'll be fine, Barnes. Go back to sleep"

He happily obliged, rolling over and closing his eyes, hearing the far away click of his door closing.

You locked yourself in your office the entirety of the day, making angry phone calls to people who just wouldn't listen, pacing as you waiting on stats to come through, filing reports, organising mission after mission, without even considering a break.

Bucky knocked on your door around 6, pushing it open softly.

"Hey, Barnes. What is it?", you asked, not looking up from your computer as your fingers danced quickly across the keys.

"Its dinnertime, come eat"

"I'm not hungry, but thank you"

"Y/N", you answered his calls, not taking your eyes off the screen. "Y/N, look at me, for God's sake"

You slammed the laptop shut, eyeing him up and down dangerously. Sure, Bucky Barnes might be able to snap your neck with his little finger, but he couldn't break a man down like you could. He couldn't stare at people so hard it bore holes in their skulls, he couldn't exude power like you did, he couldn't tear into someone's soul with spiteful words and a harsh tone, not like you.

"What was that? I'm looking now, Mr. Barnes, please, embarrass yourself further, you have my full attention", you smiled at him, but it was sly and condescending.

"You haven't eaten all day, you need to eat"

"I need to do my job, and I think you've forgotten that I am, in fact, your superior, so get out of my office", with that, you opened the laptop again, and continued on with your furious typing.

Bucky didn't budge, he knew you could get irritable on a good day, and good days usually didn't involve dying, being resurrected, losing half your team, and taking over Stark Industries.

"Y/N, please, come on. You're being irrational"

"And you're forgetting your place, you always do. I care about you, Buck, but now is not the time to be sticking your nose in places it doesn't belong, go annoy Sam or something, I don't have the time for you"

You stood up and ushered him to your door, with a hand on the handle, you gazed at him with a harsh stare.

"Have a goodnight, Barnes, stay out of my office"

You swung the door closed, if slammed shut mere inches away from Bucky's nose.

You avoided him like the plague for the next few days, not meeting his gaze, not uttering his name. You spent all your time locked in your office, not saying anything to anyone, until you had to.

You called a meeting, the pathetic remains of your team gathered around you. A teenage boy, a bird man, a god of thunder and an ex assassin walked into a room, what a wild joke.

You briefed them, you flew them out to the hotel, nicer than the last one you stayed in. You could only get three rooms, Sam got one to himself, he won rock, paper, scissors.

The awkward silence had settled thick and heavy between you and Bucky, sat on your own separate beds, neon light filtering in through the curtain.

"I think it's your turn to tell me a story", that was the first thing he had said to you in days, you were shocked, a little taken aback.

"what?"

"The last time you and I were in a hotel room, you asked for a story, and I gave you one. I want a story."

"oh", you chuckled, "what about?"

He thought for a minute, shifting to face you, blue eyes bright and playful.

"a boy"

You both laughed, all remnants of anger and spite evaporating. This was exactly like Bucky, make everything better with a joke and a laugh.

"I don't really have stories about boys. I was only 18 when I started with Stark. I met Steve when I was 23-"

"How did you meet Steve?", he cut in. You realised then, no one had ever told Bucky that story.

"He never told you?", Bucky shook his head in response.

"Well-"

You met Steve before Thanos, before Bucky, before Ultron even. You were young,

You walked with purpose across the dirt and sand, General Sanchez struggling to keep up as he briefed you. You were in an old army uniform, one that had once belonged to a friend, it was a little tight but it made do.

"Ms. Y/L/N, you said you called backup?", he asked, hesitant.

"I did", on cue, the quinjet handed some feet ahead, and Tony stepped out. "and there he is"

Tony started to walk alongside you and the General, the team walking a few feet behind you.

"Stark, pleasure seeing you again"

"same goes for you, Y/N, what's happening"

"ever seen Godzilla?"

These creatures had been popping up around coasts all over the world, a couple even had gone as far as peaking tails out of the water, ridges on their backs visible deep below the surface. All you knew is that they were massive, monstrously big, and dangerous. They had been testing the waters, seeing how ready you were for an attack, and today was the day. According to radar scans, the biggest off them all had showed up off the coast of L.A, so here you were.

Steve couldn't help but stare at you, walking tall and dignified, head held high, voice strong and authoritative. Even as you were bleeding out on the floor, cheek swollen, lip cut, eyes blackened, he thought you were beautiful, angelic.

"Really?", Bucky laughed. You just nodded, saddened by the distant memory. "you guys always seemed so, settled"

"once upon a time we were running around like kids, sneaking into empty offices to make out like horny teenagers. We settled down eventually", bitterness was evident in your voice as you spoke. You missed those days, running around with Steve's hand in yours. He had really ruined hand holding for you.

"You wanna know what Steve said to me on our first date?", you asked, breath trembling and voice shaky, tears brimming in your eyes.

"sure..", he spoke hesitantly, not sure if that was the right answer or not.

"He said, "you remind me of a girl I knew back in the war", the same girl he left me for. He fell in love with me because I reminded him of a dead girl."

You and Bucky ducked behind a car, both of you officially out of ammunition. You sighed, looking around for any form of weapon as bullets came ricocheting towards you.

"If this is how we go, I'm gonna be pretty fucking pissed", he scoffed, always making a joke.

"me too, Buck"

Your eyes scanned the ground desperately, Bucky was trying to get to Sam, Thor, even Peter, but the comms had been cut. Your eyes settled on a baseball bat not far from Bucky's feet.

"Hey, Bucky?"

"yeah, pup?", for a split second that dream flashed behind your eyes. pup.

you were snapped from your thought by a bullet flying past your ear.

"I got another story for ya", you grinned. Bucky cocked an eyebrow.

"Now?"

"I used to play a lot of baseball in high school", he followed your gaze, mischievous grin playing at his lips.

"you sure?"

And with that, you emerged from behind the car, bat in hand.

"Hiya, boys", you called out to the two thugs stood in front of you, they trained they're guns on you, just not quick enough.

Before they could even process what was happening, you were on top of them, swinging, punching, kicking. Bucky snuck up behind you, joining in on the fight.

Your breathing was heavy as the two men collapsed at your feet, blood spattered across your chest and face, Bucky couldn't help the butterflies in his stomach, red always was your colour.

There was a wicked smile playing on your lips, teeth sharp and glinting, you looked psychopathic, killer, and Bucky loved it.

Maybe he could help you release some of that anger, he hadn't gotten a good beating in a while.

You went out the night you got back. You almost went to knock on Natasha's door to invite her with you, you stopped yourself with tears in your eyes when you remembered.

You didn't tell anyone where you were going, to be honest, you didn't know yet. You slipped out of the compound quietly, the kind of thing Steve would have disapproved of.

You decided on a quaint little bar, a few blocks away, small and cozy. Old jazz hummed softly through the speakers, you fit right in, blending in with the crowd, no one paid you any mind, and you reveled in it. Being normal for once, being another someone in the crowd, instead of some comic book superhero.

A few hours went by, you spent the time people watching. You paid particular attention to a girl, not much younger than you, she looked just like Natasha, she even ordered a vodka and soda, you just smiled to yourself.

You heard someone slid into the barstool next to you, it must have been at least midnight at this point. He ordered an old fashioned, Bucky's signature. You just kept your attention trained on the other patrons, that was until you felt a hand splayed across your back and warm breath fanning out across your bare shoulder, you were ready to punch a man at least twice your size. You turned around, hand balled into a fist.

"Hey, pup"

"Bucky?"

It must've been the drinks, it had to have been. Bucky's tongue was hot and heavy in your mouth, hands all over your body. He kicked your door closed behind the both of you, pushing you up against it, rough. The wind was knocked from your lungs, his lips travelled down your face, leaving a trail of wet kisses across your jaw and down your neck. He nipped at the shell of your ear before growling, low and animalistic.

"I saw you covered in that blood on the mission, and I just couldn't help myself, pup, I had to get myself a taste"

fuck. me.

@vicmc624 @dee-vn

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